Doctor On The Brain
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
On a sunny morning in June, the dean of St Swithan’s Hospital Medical School is struggling to avoid hypocrisy as he writes the obituary for his fearsome sparring partner, Sir Lancelot Spratt. Yet far from being a funereal and moribund tale, Doctor on the Brain is a fast-moving, hilarious comedy where the jokes are liberally dispensed and the mishaps all too common. The dean’s pregnant daughter, his wife’s tantrums, the physician next door and the mysterious willowy blonde secretary all add to the hilarity – seemingly nothing can dampen the medical high jinks of Richard Gordon’s host of entertaining characters.
you–’ ‘Are you mad? How can two people seriously talk of marriage when they’re not even remotely in love?’ ‘There’s countless examples in history, of princes and princesses betrothed in infancy and being as happy as turtle-doves in the end. A couple of our intellect shouldn’t have any trouble over a little thing like that. It’s only emotional adjustment.’ ‘You don’t seem to consider what it would be like for the child, growing up in an atmosphere like that.’ ‘Well, it couldn’t be worse off
about a member – a clerical one, at that – who had been unmasked on some quiet reach removing his regulation dry-fly and substituting a juicy maggot. ‘I am using toasted cheese.’ ‘Go on? Are they biting today?’ ‘They do not bite,’ said Sir Lancelot icily. ‘They suck.’ He cast his line again, scowling fiercely enough to send every fish hurrying in terror up the river. Why, he wondered, had a man’s traditional privacy at prayer or fishing to be violated by itinerant ignoramuses in hard hats?
rheumatism when chilled. He would break even sooner than the others – much sooner than the tough Australian. Not only would Hampton Wick suffer but – though, of course, this would be a minor consideration entirely – his own career would be in ruins at St Swithin’s. What Frankie needed was a strong man, he urged. An academic Cromwell – or possibly an academic Hitler. Someone tough of mind, body and voice. Someone in the lifelong habit of dominating, of getting his own way, of squashing opposition
yours to command,’ she said grandly. ‘Good. Well, first you’ll have to go up to the bedroom and make the bed.’ She stood up and aimed for the door, swaying hardly perceptibly. ‘By the way, I don’t know if Hotblack’s charge you anything. But I’ll send them a cheque to cover both of our fees in the morning.’ She turned round and gently patted his face. ‘How sweet you are. But I’m afraid my fees are rather on the large side, because I have been on their books for quite a wee time, you know. Still,
making the most of basic ingredients was like an experienced French chef against a suburban housewife. Her long blonde hair hung loose, her rather sharp face was fashionably tanned, and she wore skirts so short that the dean was continually mystified at the rate the male members of his bedside classes managed to drop their pencils. ‘Tulip,’ asked Muriel. ‘Will you do me a tremendous favour? If anyone asks, say I spent the night after the May ball in your flat.’ Tulip raised her eyebrows. ‘No