Quartet in Autumn by Barbara Pym Read Free Book Online Page A

the church with the locked door, if the vicar ever called to see her. She had never mentioned it but no doubt somebody from that church was keeping an eye on her and knew that she was the kind of person who liked to keep herself to herself and must not be organized in any way. Although Edwin was not of the school that regarded the church as an extension of the social services, he knew very well that it was the attitude of a number of very good people nowadays, conscientious and well - meaning. It was very likely that Marcia would not be neglected, so there was no need to worry about her. There was certainly nothing he could do at this moment, standing on Victoria Station. So, turning away from the magazines that had reminded him of Marcia, he bought a copy of Reader's Digest and dismissed her from his thoughts.
    The church people did make a mild effort with Marcia and suggested that she might like to join a coach trip to Westcliff-on - Sea ('Much nicer than Southend, dear'), but she didn't seem to want to go and of course they couldn't force her. Janice Brabner also was concerned that she didn't seem to be getting a holiday and made various suggestions, none of which met with Marcia's approval. 'She's so difficult ,' Janice complained to her friend, who was a medical social worker. 'People like that don't seem to want to be helped. And yet some of them are so grateful, it's lovely, really, makes it all worth while...' she sighed. Marcia certainly wasn't like that.
    Yet Marcia did have two holiday treats in store, though she had no intention of revealing to anybody what these were. The first was a visit to out-patients at the hospital, where she was due for a check-up at Mr Strong's clinic. The time indicated on her card was 11.35, a funny sort of time, giving the impression that the appointments were calculated so exactly to the nearest five minutes that there would be none of the usual hanging about. She arrived at the hospital punctually, checked in at the appointments desk and sat down to wait. If you were too early you could read a magazine or get a cup of tea or coffee out of the machine and of course there was always a visit to the toilet Marcia did none of these things but sat staring in front of her. She had chosen a seat away from the other people and she was annoyed when a woman moved up next to her and appeared to want to get into conversation. The people waiting did not talk to each other; it was like the waiting room in a doctor's surgery except that there was something more sacred about the vigil here, each person having something wrong'. Marcia did not respond when a remark was made about the weather, but continued to stare straight in front of her, fixing her eyes on a door that had a notice over it saying 'Mr D.G. Strong'. Next to it was another door where the notice said 'Dr H. Wintergreen'. It was impossible to tell which of the people sitting in the chairs were waiting for the surgeon and which for the physician; there did not appear to be any distinguishing marks, for even though they all seemed to be rather cowed, some even broken, they were of both sexes and all ages.
    'You waiting to see Dr Wintergreen?' Marcia's neighbour persisted.
    'No,' said Marcia.
    'Oh, then you must be for Mr Strong. Nobody's gone into that room for the last half hour, ever since I've been here. I'm waiting for Dr Wintergreen. He's a lovely doctor, foreign. I think he might be Polish. He's got ever such kind eyes, lovely. He always wore a carnation in his buttonhole when he came round the ward. He grows them himself, he's got a big house in Hendon. Digestive disorders, stomach, you know, that's his speciality and of course he's in Harley Street, too. Is Mr Strong in Harley Street?'
    'Yes,' said Marcia coldly. She did not want to talk about Mr Strong, to discuss sacred matters with this person.
    'Sometimes they get the Registrar to do the operation,' the woman went on. 'Still, they've got to learn haven't they, how to do it.'
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