Part 14 (1/2)

*Not even for medicinal purposes?'

*Especially for medicinal purposes. We'd never get anything done if I started das.h.i.+ng out wee drams to every poor sod who came in here feeling under the weather. It is illegal, you know.'

*I know.'

He nodded. *Sorry,' he said.

*But . . .' I began. He plainly wasn't aware that his own breath carried the stale whiff of the distillery. *You can write me a prescription for it.'

*Can. Won't.'

*You're saying you have none?'

*I'm not saying anything. Or, if anything, I'm saying you have none. You know, alcohol isn't the answer to everything.'

*Are you sure?'

We regarded each other silently for a few moments. If anything stood testament to the evils of alcohol, it was his face. But it didn't seem the time to say so. If he had a precious supply of alcohol and was a drinker himself, he couldn't go dis.h.i.+ng it out to all and sundry. I could understand that. But there was no need to preach about its evils. Less of the Hippocratic, more of the hypocritical.

I touched my head for the first time. A b.u.mp. Big one. Sore too. *You examined this, then, when I was out.'

He nodded. *You're okay.'

*I don't feel okay.'

*That's understandable.'

*My head feels . . . broken.'

*It will. For a while. But you'll be fine.'

*You don't need to scan it or anything.'

*I did scan it.' He held up his hands. *With these. Still the best in the business.'

I tried to give him an appreciative smile, but my lips were too sore. His hands were nicotine-stained. The entire hands. Not just the fingers. I'd once, briefly, known a woman with nicotine-stained hair. But these hands were virtually golden. Physician heal thyself. I was glad that there'd been no cause for an internal examination. As far as I knew.

I had a sudden vision of a whale on a bicycle. *What about the . . . Christine? The wee girl . . .'

*She's fine. She was waiting outside for ages. With her mum. But they had to go on. They wanted to stay. But Father White insisted. I told them you'd be okay. They were very grateful for what you did. Protected Christine like that. Saved her life, they said.'

I shrugged. If I had, it had been an accident. I must have tripped, or fainted. I wasn't a hero. There were dozens of people who could testify to that, some of them dead. *What about the woman on the bike?'

*Oh, she's fine. She bounced. On you, actually. They brought her here too. Then Constable Murtagh took her away. Ran the gauntlet, rather. Someone hit her with a rock. She's fine. Under lock and key.'

I took a deep breath, yawned and stretched. I ached. *What'll happen to her?' I asked, drearily.

Dr Finlay tipped a handful of small white pills into his hand, then dropped them into mine. *I don't know. Depends what the charge is. What would you call it? Careless driving or attempted murder? Careless attempted murder, perhaps. I hear there's a crowd out at Murtagh's place wants to string her up. She's not a popular woman.'

*Why would she want to . . . I mean, what did she say? What was her excuse?'

*She babbled a bit. But then she's always been a bit of a babbler. Mary Reilly. You hadn't met her before?'

I shook my head, which was a bad idea. I told him that I'd spoken to her briefly at the church and that she'd seemed perfectly normal.

*Well, she would. That's what happens, one moment she's normal, next she's away. If we'd a home for the mentally deranged out here she'd be a permanent fixture, but we haven't. I recommended her removal to the mainland years ago, but people were reluctant. Up until now she's been pretty harmless.' He paused for a moment, as if deciding whether to go on. *She's a medium, you know.'

*Strikes me as more of a large,' I said.

*You know what I mean. Spirits, and all that. People used to laugh at her on the one hand, then sneak off to see her on the other. That was before all this started, of course.' He gave me the kind of conspiratorial wink that suggested he wasn't altogether convinced by it either.

I pushed myself gently round on the sofa and placed my feet gingerly on the carpet. I felt a little dizzy. *So was it the spirits that told her to try and kill Christine?'

The doctor shrugged. *That's not for me to say.' He turned and placed the bottle of pills back in the cupboard.

*Do you believe Christine is the Messiah, doctor?'

*Of course.' He kept his back to me, busied his hands twisting a few medicine bottles round until their labels faced in the right direction.

I stood. The dizziness washed over me and then, abruptly, was gone. I smiled. *Well,' I said, *that feels okay.'

Dr Finlay turned from his cupboard. He looked me up and down. *Fit as a fiddle, what did I tell you?'

I gave him a little nod and then thanked him.

*Can I order a taxi from here?' I asked.

*No,' he said.

*Oh.'

*Insofar as there are none. Island this size? Sure a strapping young lad like you could walk home in no time. It's only a couple of miles, isn't it?'

*I've just been in an accident.'

*The walk'll do you the world of good. I'm a doctor, believe me.'

*Aye. Right.'

He opened the surgery door for me. A mother and child sat in a spa.r.s.ely furnished waiting room. They smiled at me. I smiled back. *Thanks again, doctor,' I said.

*No problem. Sure I'm sure I'll be seeing you soon. You've a young child out at the cottage, haven't you?'

I nodded.

*I'll be needing to call out then, won't I, check everything's okay?'