THE OTHER BIG SECRET 2: RABBIT STEW / CH. 2:MEDIC

LONDON, TUESDAY EVENING, OCTOBER 21ST 1975

Roseline Abbot MD had decided to put on the dress she'd worn for her graduation, when she'd thought she had a future, when she'd thought her medical career was just starting. It was one of the advantages to being at home: she could change clothes to fit the occasion, for the first time in over a year she felt she had a future again. Her skirt was definitely in need of a wash. How James managed to keep his suit clean while laying traps was a yet another mystery about the man.

When she'd applied for her first junior doctor's job, she'd been a bit surprised to be turned down. After the twentieth refusal, she'd all but given up. It seemed that no one wanted to give a position to a woman medic who'd got good grades but had deliberately lived rough for a considerable portion of her time as a medical student. They thought it smacked of mental instability, or at least a lack of commitment to her studies. She kept applying but met with the same response. She'd tried to explain her motives in covering letters, but that hadn't helped. There were plenty of newly qualified people, and not enough places. She'd applied to mission agencies, thinking that with her medical degree her and experience on the street she'd would be an ideal candidate. They'd all told her she needed to do her two years as a junior doctor. She didn't have any friends in the right places, her ethnicity counted against her, as did her gender. Everyone decided she was too weird. She was stuck in a hole she hadn't realised she was digging, life at home had became even more unbearable, and so she'd just lived on her wits, without plans or future.

James was a sympathetic listener, and she found herself in quiet tears as she got to the end of the account.

He reached for her hand. [No wonder you want to leave.]

[I've no future here. You know what the worst thing is? The medical school let me see the reference they gave me. It spoke about me having 'an unconventional lifestyle which had lead to many discussions with my tutor.' It looked fine to me, but according to someone at Church it's the sort of thing they write for people who were habitual gamblers, immoral girls, or people who never turned up for appointments. That line probably ruined my future, and I could have asked for it to be re-written if I'd been less ignorant.]

[And they knew what they were doing to you?]

[They must have.]

[That's sad. Thinking of your future... what do you imagine you'd do in an out of the way tribe where most people don't speak English, and thanks to Grandpa and Grandma's witness, almost everyone is a Christian?]

[And nothing I'd recognise as modern medical facilities, or medicines, either, I guess.] she thought back.

[Good guess.]

[What do you do for healthcare?]

[Plenty of fresh air and exercise?] he suggested [Sorry, that was mostly a joke. But you'd probably think we're an abnormally healthy bunch. We have some surgeons, and there are some people around who know what herbs and stuff to use for different ailments. Some you might even recognise as ancient and effective. I don't know.]

[But no vaccination programme.]

[No. Just something like three thousand years of almost a hundred percent effective quarantine, according to Grandpa.]

[Three thousand years?]

[You've heard of Jason and the Argonauts? We all learn that story, just a little different to the version you've heard. But I'm getting too close to things I mustn't tell you. It's awkward.]

[You don't really think there's a place for me there either, do you?]

[I didn't say that.]

[But you implied it. No place for a partly qualified medic among the already evangelised barbarian hunter-gatherers.]

[Grandpa called us a barbarian civilisation, and then corrected himself, saying technically you Saxons, Celts, and the other ones I can't remember were the barbarians, we just stopped speaking Greek as a second language and relapsed a bit in places.]

[Don't you need a city to be civilised, technically speaking?]

[Yes.]

[So you're technically not barbarians, but technically not civilised either?]

[Let's just say we're more complicated than I'll be able to let on until we're on the boat. If you want to fish, we can accommodate that easily. If you want to hunt, that's fine too. If you want to educate, or heal, that's fine, but it might be trickier. If you want to revise Grandpa's Bible translation, you'd really better get Grandma to agree first.]

[I don't think I'm qualified for that.]

[No disrespect, but me neither. For a start, you don't speak our language.]

[Your Grandpa was British, yes?]

[Yes.]

[How did he end up joining your tribe?]

[God told him to go. More details on the boat.]

[But he trained as a Bible Translator?]

[No! Grandpa was an engineer. It showed, he was always tinkering with this or that.]

[Oh. Life in your village... I'm guessing no piped water.]

[Not as such.]

[Meaning?]

[If you're thinking turn on the tap... well Grandpa explained all that, when I was little and it seemed really complicated when you could just step outside and wash in the sea, then stand under the right waterfall to get the salt off you.] then he added [The left one was for the girls.]

[You're joking, aren't you?]

[What about?]

[The right and left waterfalls?]

[Only partially. There are different waterfalls, they are for different people: children, and then two for singles.]

[Singles as in individuals, or did you leave out married people?]

[Yes to both. They can make their own plans further from the village if they like.]

[Let's not go there.]

[Oh? You don't think it might be pleasant some time?]

[{embarrasment} I meant let's not talk about it.]

[Sorry, I did guess that. I just like plays on words.]

[Hmm. I noticed. I also notice, we've been walking holding hands a long time. Sorry.] She broke the contact.

“I did, too. Problem?”

“Depends on whose eyes we look with.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning... To most people here, it'd mean we're falling in love. To my people... more than that.”

“Oops. Sorry.”

“I have a question. If it were possible for you to follow your original plans, what would you choose?”

“But it's not.”

“Just suppose it was. What if I went back to talk to the lawyer, and it turned out that he knew the right people or the right laws, and he spoke in the right ways and your you did get a place as a junior doctor.”

“Don't do that.” she said, shuddering.

“Why not?” James asked.

“I don't want to face that choice.”

“Too late. It's going to nag at you now. But not asking would have meant it nagged at me, and it might have nagged at you too, if you'd thought about it.

So, let's say the lawyer made it happen. You have a choice of your life-long dream of being a doctor, or of coming with me to a strange place where they speak a strange language, and people die of shark too often.”

“Are you trying to scare me away? I thought you liked me,”

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

“If being with me means that you're miserable for the rest of your life, what's the most loving thing I can do?”

“Not let me fall in love with you. Bit too late, I think. But if you do manage to get me a place and I do get qualified, but in the end I hate it, because I'm forced to be in a smelly hospital rather than swimming in a warm ocean...”

“Not that warm. Warmer than around here, I agree, but don't set your hopes to high.”

“So, no coconut trees, and golden beaches?”

“Stones, mostly, and sharp rocks. The sort of place they don't show in holiday brochures. Think rugged unwelcoming coast, selected to keep others away.”

“So, where are the rabbits?”

“The best place is about three or four hours' walk. First you go past the waterfalls, then up the path beside them, through the rocky bits, and up the ravine following the river, unless it's been raining because it's too unsafe then. At the top of the ravine there's a patch of grassland which is perfect for rabbiting, but not very big, so you leave those rabbits alone most of the year and go another hour or two further in, to a much bigger patch of grassy woodland. There are plenty of rabbits there.”

“Six hours' walk each way just for one rabbit?”

“Why do you think I caught ten or so per trip?”

“And you camp out there?”

“Yes.”

“It's starting to fit together more. Thank-you. How long is the boatride?”

“Not just a couple of days.”

“And you just tie it up beside your rocky beach?”

“No. It goes somewhere special; so its out of sight and so on.”

“You really don't want to be found.” Rose realised. “It's not just that you haven't been found, but you're actively hiding.”

“True.” he agreed.

“And I only find out more on the boat?”

“Yes.”

“How did your grandfather ever get to meet your grandmother?”

“God told him where he should go, down to the exact beach. Locals avoided it, warned him there were demons there. He said he was God's servant and wasn't afraid of demons. The demon in question, my grandmother, was hid in a cave, and he set up camp to wait for her to come out. I'm not entirely sure why, but she decided to keep him prisoner rather than just kill him.”

“If you left, and then I found your village, on my own, what would happen to me?”

“Depends if the person who met you had listened to my story about the lovely woman I'd left behind and recognised you from my description. There's a chance you'd live.”

“And if I said your name?”

“You'd do better with my grandmother's. Everyone knows hers.”

“Will you tell it to me?”

“Not her full name, no. Sathzakara Karella Lamura Far-Seer Evangelia ought to be enough. Of course, you can't say Far-Seer in English and be understood, so you ought to leave that out.”

“How do you say it?”

He told her.

“O.K. So, I'll skip it.”

“What's your full name?”

“I'll tell you on our wedding day, assuming we have one. James Lidia Enoch is what you might call the traditional form of my name. Lidia being my mother, Enoch my father. You'd add the Turnbull on in English, of course. Then you add some extra bits as you get older, other bits fall out of use, but I won't bore you with those. Your full name is a mixture of your life history and what people call you.”

“Oh. I guess your full name doesn't go on your birth certificate.”

“What's one of those? You need to prove you were born?”

“I guess it's a certificate that your birth has been registered.”

“Oh, as in 'Registry of Births, Deaths and Marriages?'”

“Exactly.”

“Nope, don't have one of those, just the family Bible.”

“James, I think we'll need your birth certificate to get married. No, maybe your passport would do.”

“What's one of those?”

“It's a little book that proves who you are when you arrive... but I expect you just tied up your boat and didn't get stopped, didn't you?” she whispered.

“Is that a problem?” he whispered back.

“Yes and no.”

“Meaning?”

“I expect it's illegal to enter the country without one, and without reporting to the customs office, and so on.” She shrugged “But I expect you count as British, since your Grandfather was, so you're allowed to be here. Proving it to anyone is going to be very hard though. Of course you being here without being registered as born anywhere means either you're lying or your parents broke the law by not registering you or you entered the country illegally. You don't need any proof of who you are on you, so you ought to be OK. Just... don't get yourself arrested, whatever you do. Just do your fade into the woods thing.”

“Now?”

“No! I mean if there's any trouble.”

“Rose, you're making me a little scared.”

“You've been here two weeks already.”

“Two months. Just two weeks in London. That lawyers' practice moved around all over the place.”

“How did you live? Oh silly me. You hocked pretties?”

“If that means take them to a pawn-brokers, yes.”

“Why not try to sell them?”

“Grandfather's advice. No questions asked when you pawn something. So as far as I was concerned, you did help me. I really wasn't expecting to get them back.”

“But you knew...” her hand touched the necklace.

“I strongly expected that if I told anyone it was real, there'd be questions about where it came from.”

“Where did it come from?”

“I told your brother the truth.” he said.

“Which version?”

“You get three yes-no questions to help you work it out. Nothing like 'was it the first one.' that'd make me tell you the answer.” he said,

“Do you really have markets?”

“Not very often.”

“Do they sell that sort of thing?”

“Could you rephrase the question? Who's the they?”

“Would you expect that sort of thing to be on sale?”

“Urm... If I answer that one you're probably going to get misled.”

“OK.... Would you expect anyone from your village to buy or sell something like that at one of your markets?”

“Sell.” he said, firmly.

“Hey, I thought it was supposed to be yes or no questions!”

“Well if you don't want any help, how does 'yes' sound?”

“Entirely confusing. Your village would be selling? Who'd buy?”

“Added to the list for the boat, sorry.”

“So... you'd expect to sell it. To someone unknown. Your people do wear jewelery, at least your friend's wife does. And you bought it with you as trade-goods too.”

“Yes. It was the best piece in my collection, but not as important as finding that lawyer.”

“You knew the lawyer would give you money?” He nodded.

“So... some trust or something your Grandfather set up?” she guessed.

“Yes. The lawyer didn't even know Grandfather survived more than a decade, otherwise. And we weren't sure he'd even got that letter. Grandad thought one of us should to come and make sure they knew he'd had descendants who might need it one day. I understand it's not much use at the moment, but it was for the education of his kids, grand-kids and so on, so they could go to university if they wanted to.”

“University's free now.”

“Yes. The lawyer told me. He wasn't sure how long it'd stay that way, though. A another generation? Who can tell?”

“But he could give you some money?”

“Yes. He called it travel expenses.”

“Thank you for the necklace.”

“It looks good on you. You've still got one question left.”

She took a gulp. “Have you found any pirate's treasure?”

“It's hard to tell. One wooden strong-box isn't that different to another.”

“You're a tribe of hunter-gatherers who sometimes stumble across boxes of buried treasure?”

He laughed. “Guess where you hear the full and complete answer to that one.”

Rose groaned, “Or do they get washed up on your rocks?”

“Sorry, Rose. If I answered that question fully.... it'd be too close.”

“You're pearl-divers, that's why the sharks?”

“Please, can you leave it?”

“It really makes you uncomfortable, doesn't it?”

“Extremely. I guess ought to tell you... even going together ... Grandma got away with it, but I guess I might be banished, outcast.”

“If you're banished, what about me?”

“After Grandpa had been a prisoner for five years, the elders told Grandma to execute her prisoner. They felt he was dead weight, and that there was a risk he'd escape. They got married instead.”

“And that made everything all right?”

“That and the fact that Grandma finally realised that when Grandpa was saying alleluia, that meant 'Praise Yah', who was a god our people had heard of, and whom they really really respected in a 'we don't dare touch his people' sort of way.”

“So it should be all right? If I'm a Christian and your wife?”

“I hope so. It'll give us something to pray about on our way.”

“You said your grandfather was your grandma's prisoner?”

“Yes. She was the best warrior of her generation.”

“You go to war?”

“Used to. Mostly among ourselves.”

“And you let the women fight?”

“The women learn to fight to protect the children. From sharks, for instance, and where the village used to be there were wolves too.”

“You moved your village?”

“Yes. Someone started world war one, and living on a battle-field didn't seem a good idea.”

She looked at him curiously. “You moved out of the way of world war one?”

“Yes.”

“That doesn't sound like you went half a mile down the coast.”

“No. Exact origins and distance moved....”

“To be discussed on the boat, I know.”

“I've got a question for you. You spoke about being a junior doctor as part of your training, but you also talked about it being work. What do you actually do or learn?”

“It's all about putting the theory into practice. Turning facts and figures into well people, that sort of thing.”

“So it's the first time you meet patients?”

“No. But it's the first time I'd be making the real decisions. Some supervision, people I can ask for help from if I'm not sure.”

“In other words... confidence building in a mostly safe environment?”

“I guess so. Why?”

“I'm playing with the idea of putting some of your sort of medical supplies in the boat. I'm getting the idea that you plus medical supplies is a very good combination.”

“I thought there wasn't much space in the boat.”

“One cabin.” he agreed. “But it's got cargo space.”

“It'll stay dry?”

“It should.”

“James Turnbull, you're offering me a chance to be a doctor, aren't you?”

“No promises. We might be exiled, like I said.”

“I'll have to take some historic texts too. Work out what there's some hope of making, what can stand instead... A list of really long lasting medicines.”

“Flotsam and jetsam... I wonder.” James murmured.

“Pardon?”

“I wonder if medicines ever get washed up.”

“Still within date and undamaged?” She asked “I doubt it.”

“Not knowing what things are is a problem, you see. Every kid is told, keep away from small bottles and vials and the like, they might be poison. Hmm. You'll need to keep small bottles, vials and the like out of sight, unless you want terrified patients.”

“What about syringes? You know, things to give injections?”

“No problem.”

“What do you mean, no problem?”

“Surgeons use them. Suck away the yuck, take away the pain. No problem.”

“Are we talking little plastic things, about this big?” she indicated.

“Brass things, about this big.” he indicated in return. “Get it almost glowing in order to kill germs.”

Rose was surprised, but it seemed reasonable, and she was fairly convinced that 'almost glowing' was seriously bad news for anything biological.

“Where did you get them?”

“Not sure, sorry.”

“And if you hazarded a guess?”

“If it looks like part of a steam engine, I always guess Grandpa.”

“How do you know what... no, you're not saying your grandfather made a steam engine, are you?”

“According to him, 'every engineer needs an engine to fiddle with'. I expect he might have been teasing.”

“Where did he get the parts?”

“Not sure. If I had to guess...” he smiled at her lopsidedly, “..sorry.”

“I'm really looking forward to that boat. He didn't make that did he?”

“No.”

“I was just having visions of us chugging away on some ancient steam boat like the African Queen.”

“Who's the African Queen?”

“The boat in another film you probably haven't watched.”

“Oh.”

Noticing where they were, Rose asked “James, do you have a specific restaurant in mind?”

“No, I thought you were leading.”

“I thought you were.”

“Oh. Do you know where we are?”

“Yes. That's the church I go to normally.”

“I didn't think it looked like a restaurant.” he joked.

“You asked me earlier if I'd like to get a job as a junior doctor.”

“I did.”

“It sounds to me like even without any medical supplies, I could help your surgeons, and still do a useful job. And if I had the right supplies I could think of that time as being a junior doctor. Do you agree?”

“Almost certainly, assuming, etc. etc.”

“Then if you'll take me, I'm going along with you. And let's go and see a man I know. I want to know what's actually necessary for a wedding.”