A Dublin Student Doctor by Patrick Taylor Read Free Book Online

that anyone given the chance to study medicine should choose to squander the opportunity was beyond comprehension. “You could try to pass.”
    “Actually, I have been thinking that. Since I’ve drifted down into your year and met you lads the craic ’s been ninety.”
    “Then why not pass your Intermediate II and stay with us?” Cromie asked.
    “Wellll.” Bob frowned. “There is the small matter—”
    “Of your allowance?” Charlie asked.
    “It does come in handy.”
    “But you’d make more as a doctor,” Cromie said.
    “I know,” Bob said, “but,” he wrinkled his nose as if inhaling a bad smell, “one would have to work.”
    Fingal was sure it was only by an effort of will that Robert Saint John Beresford avoided shuddering. “Come on, Bob,” Fingal said. “We’ve twenty-seven months more to go, lectures, outpatient clinics, working on the wards, delivering babies.” And how Fingal was looking forward to it all.
    Bob smiled. “It would be grand sticking with you fellows and we’d still have two more exams to pass after Intermediate before we’ll be finished. Lots of opportunity for me to fail one, stay a student for years more.” He managed to look embarrassed. “You see, I really don’t like responsibility. Life is such fun without it.”
    Bob offered Charlie a Sweet Afton cigarette. He refused on the grounds that he was trying to quit. He didn’t want to ruin his wind for the rugby.
    Fingal pulled out a pipe and lit it. He looked at his friends’ glasses. It would soon be his shout and three shillings was all he could budget for this afternoon. He was relieved when he heard Bob call, “Same again please, Diarmud.”
    The barman said, “Right, sir.”
    Fingal looked at Bob. “And we’re not asking you to stick with us just so you can pay the bills, Beresford. We enjoy your company.”
    Bob smiled. “I know that. We all know you’re often short a bob or two, Fingal. You’re the only one of us paying his own way through medical school, but you always pay your shout with us—”
    I’d not have it any other way, Fingal thought.
    “But term’s over. I had a bit of luck on the horses at Leopardstown, so today’s my treat—for you all.”
    “Bloody marvellous,” said Cromie.
    “Daddy Warbucks strikes again,” Charlie said, and lifted his glass.
    “And which one of you bowsies is Little Orphan Annie?” Bob wanted to know.
    “Look, you lot,” said Fingal, “I know your tongues are hanging out for another jar and we are grateful to you, Bob, but we’ve business to discuss too. Come autumn with our Intermediate and BAs behind us we’ll be spending a lot of time working in teaching hospitals. I’ve asked around and heard that the system usually calls for us to pair off and work pretty closely together.”
    “Jasus, you and Hercules Fitzpatrick, Fingal. I can just see it.” Bob grimaced.
    Charlie laughed so hard he nearly spilled his pint.
    “Exactly,” Fingal said. “What a prospect, but how about us four in two pairs?”
    “That makes sense,” Bob said. “Bloody good sense.”
    “Another reason for you to pass the exams in June,” Fingal said. “You’d be doing us a favour.”
    “Lord,” said Bob, sipping his whiskey, “you, O’Reilly, will be having me Doctor Beresford before I know it.”
    That’s right, Fingal thought, but held his peace. “Before we do anything we have to choose a teaching hospital. We can go to any one of ten in Dublin.”
    “Och,” said Charlie, “the tyranny of choice. We’re enchained by our freedom to pick.”
    “I haven’t a clue,” Bob said, paying for the fresh drinks. “I’d not been planning to go that far with my studies.”
    “I know exactly where we should go. It’s a short bike ride from my digs, Bob’s flat, or you two’s rooms in Trinity to Grand Canal Street and Sir Patrick Dun’s Hospital. It has just about everything we need.” Fingal put a hand into his knapsack and pulled out the Regulations of the