Charles was struck by his indifference to his wife’s email. “Poor Benjamin’s Asthma has worsened. Don’t be alarmed. Dr Walker says we shouldn’t fly and the spring pollen over there might make it worse. Hope you found the house well enough. Keep in touch, Love Suzie.”
He enjoyed his morning coffee more than he might have. Time on his own would allow him to learn the city, small as it was. It was a big house with dark wooden interiors and doors in unnecessary places. Suzie wouldn’t like it much, but he’d explained they must rent before they settled permanently. Yes, Charles was rather pleased he was given a month’s free-run of the place. He gulped the last of his coffee. Putting on his coat, he left the house without having yet explored the rooms, something he was meaning to do, given the rent was high.
Charles’s slim figure cast a long shadow upon the road as he strolled down towards the train station, sharply defined from the bright morning sun.
The building’s silver exterior shone with a promising brilliance. “Mr Favell?” said the female receptionist.
“Yes,” he smiled, looking about the lofty reception.
“Professor Cotterell is waiting for you on level ten.”
He moved towards the elevators. Professor Coterell’s eminence was enough to make Charles nervous, confident as he was in himself.
“Ah Dr Favell” said Coterell as the lift doors opened
“Call me Charles, please” he said, stepping out of elevator and shaking the professor’s hand.
“Come along then, let me introduce you to the others.” They went along the corridor. The school was a fine one, and Charles’s eyebrows were high on his forehead as he went past the modern machinery. They entered a dim room. Coterell waved down at the medical students through the glass.
“You must be Dr Favell” said a man, appearing from the darkness behind a computer. Charles turned to shake his hand. Coterrell left. They watched him come out through the door and into the main operating room where the students were conducting a heart transplant on a cadaver. The two men watched from the window.
“So this will be your first time teaching?”
“Yes” said Charles. “It was always my intention to teach, and consult part time. But no opportunity arose back home and when I heard you were in need of part time teachers here I thought – yes why not?”
A student was bent down on the floor. The others jumped out of the way as she held her sides and vomited onto the linoleum. Coterell scratched his beard and his smiling eyes were slightly irritated.
“Another one” said Simon.
“Does this happen often?”
“With the new students, there’s always a couple.” The girl raised her head, looking up at Charles and Simon. As deathly white as she was, her cheeks blushed upon seeing the new doctor come to teach them. Her embarrassment might have been minor, had she not seen the Englishman. The girl turned away to hide the drool hanging from her lip, imagining with eyes in the back of her head the tanned broad man staring down at her.
“Is she alright?”
“She’ll be fine. They’ll have her cleaned up. This job isn’t for everybody.”
“Yes,” said Charles, vacantly.

*

Patsy stared at the card in her hand, wishing she had no choice in the matter. She was surprised at her lack in confidence. Perhaps she’d do it in a couple days. She placed the phone back on its cradle. Ah if only she’d given her number to him. The suspense would be great, but oh the trouble in knowing when the right time was. She remained in the silent house for too long. Flinging her hands in the air, she snatched the keys from the dish in the hallway and went outside.
She stood at her doorstep, the flowers in their troughs and the buttery Kowhai trees not attracting her attention this time. She swayed like a person deep in thought, though not so much a daydream, as a daydream is an unrealised contemplation. Patsy’s hand, as narrow as her wrist – or rather her wrist was so fat there was no widening of the palm – turned the doorknob. Re-entering the house, Patsy returned to the sunlit coffee table.
She typed his name into Google: “Charles, heart doctor, England”. Her eyes flew down the screen of her laptop, seeing the hundred pages and confirming her doubt about finding him on the internet. And yet she knew Maryann would find it in a flash, being an expert on such things as Facebook and Linked what’s its.
“Right Mum, I’m off.”
Patsy grabbed the computer screen, and, thinking twice, slowly closed it. “Have a nice day deary.”
“Oh I’ve found the Gavascon for you, it’s on the kitchen bench”.
“Right… right thanks.”
Patsy was in a daydream this time, gazing out at the garden. ‘What am I waiting for?’ she said aloud.