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By Root 1398 0

A year or two passes, he’s offered a job at last and refuses it. Unemployment has become his way of life. He’s adapted to it. In the same way some people come here with commonplace illnesses which, after an initial improvement, stop responding to treatment. Why? In the absence of other factors we must assume that the patient has adapted to the hospital itself. He has reverted to an infantile state in which suffering and being regularly fed feel actually safer than health. And mind you, he’s not a malingerer. The adaption has occurred in a region where mind and body are indistinguishable. So what do we do? In your case, Duncan, we’re going to do this. No more ephedrine, isoprenaline, aminophylline suppositories, sedatives or sleeping pills. From now on we give you nothing: nothing but an injection if the attacks are really bad. And if you aren’t well by next Friday we’ll give you a hypodermic needle, a bottle of adrenalin and sling you out. Of course if this were America, and your father were rich, we could make a packet by hanging on to you till you croaked. So think yourself lucky. And now we will look at the heart of the minister of Cowlairs Parish Church. Screens, please.”

Thaw lay trembling with indignation. When the professor left the ward he scrambled up, put on his dressing gown and hurried outside. He found himself running through the grounds muttering, “All right, I’ll leave. I’ll leave now. I’ll demand a taxi and leave now.”

He leaned on the parapet of a bridge across a cutting near the clock tower. Rails at the bottom were hidden by lank grass and a litter of broken wicker baskets. The banks were overhung by elders and brambles, but he glimpsed through them a station platform, cracked, mossy and strewn with rubbish. He returned thoughtfully to the ward.

A spruce fresh-faced man of about thirty sat by the minister, who said, “Duncan, this is Mr. Smail, our session clerk. I’ve been showing him your new designs and he’s quite pleased with them.”

“Very impressive,” said Mr. Smail, “though, of course, I’m no judge of painting. My concern is with the practical side, and I’m heartily glad we’ve got it moving at last. With your permission I’ll show these sketches to the kirk session next Sunday.”

He patted a glossy briefcase on his lap.

“I can make more elaborate designs if you like,” said Thaw. “Oh, no need at all. If the minister’s pleased nobody else will complain—not openly, at any rate. You know, of course, that we’re a poorly endowed church and can’t pay you. However, I think I’ve enough contacts to ensure a fair bit of publicity when the work’s complete. No, we won’t hide your light under a bushel. Now, how long will you take?”

Thaw pondered. He had no idea at all. He said cautiously,

“Perhaps three months.”

“And when can you start?”

“As soon as I’m well again,” said Thaw, suddenly feeling well, “In fact I’m getting out on Friday.”

“So you’ll be finished by Christmas. Good. That will give us time to clear the scaffolding out for the Watch Night service. Perhaps the dedication ceremony and the Christmas service might be combined?”

“I don’t think so,” said the minister. “No. But it could be combined with the service at Hogmanay.”

“Good. A newly decorated church by the new year. That will give the Presbytery something to think about.”

Thaw felt a hidden alarm within him. He said, “It’s a huge area. I’ll need a lot of help. Not skilled help—just folk who can lay a colour inside the shapes I chalk for them.”

“Oh, I’ll help you myself. I’ve been practising on the kitchen ceiling. And Mr. Rennie, who’s going to lend the scaffolding, I’m sure will lend a hand as well. We’ll have no shortage of helpers.”

Thaw took nail scissors from the minister’s locker and snipped a corner from his dressing gown. He said, “First of all the plaster surfaces in the chancel must be painted this colour, a dark blue inclining to violet, in good-quality oil paint, eggshell finish, at least two coats.”

Mr. Smail made a note in a pocket diary and shut the half-inch of cloth between the pages saying, “Leave it to me. And mibby