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Freddie Hampton




In July a Conference of the British Medical Union was held in Cardiff. Andrew was not a member of the Union, as he could not pay the five-guinea subscription* but be watched the Conference with great interest, reading what was said about it in the newspapers. At that time he received a letter from his friend Freddie Hampton. They had studied together at the University and when Andrew began working in Blaenelly, he sent Freddie a letter, telling him his present address. Now Freddie, who was, of course, a member of the Union, asked Manson to come to Cardiff on Saturday evening and have dinner together.

He showed the letter to Christine.

"Will you come with me? It's only an hour and a half in the train. We'll see something of the Conference and I want you to meet Hampton."

She nodded.

"I'll come with pleasure."

On Saturday at half past four, after a short and very unpleasant conversation with Mrs. Page, who did not want to let him go, Andrew met Christine and they took the train for Cardiff.

Andrew was in high spirits.* All the way there he looked at her and talked gayly. Their friendship was wonderful, he thought. But he wanted more than that. He wanted to take her in his arms, to feel her close to him. He wanted to tell her that he loved her, to ask her if she would marry him. He saw now, that this was the only solution for them. But he decided he would speak to her in the train on the way home.

"Oh, we'll have a good time together," he said, Freddie's a good chap, Christine. You'll like him."

The train ran into Cardiff at a quarter past six. Freddie had promised to meet them at half past six at the hotel, hut he was not there. They had to wait for him for rather a long time. They stood there, looking at the doctors and their wives, who were talking and laughing all around them. At last Freddie arrived and ran up to them with a wide smile.

"Hello, Hello! Here you are!* Sorry I’m late! It’s good to see you again, Andrew. Still the same old Manson. Ha! Ha! Why don't you buy yourself a new hat, my boy?" He looked at Christine. "Introduce me, old man! What are you thinking about? Let's have a drink." And they sat down at one of the round tables.

He was a little conceited, perhaps, but good-natured and made friends* easily. One of the teachers at the University had told him at a lesson one day: "You know nothing, Mr. Hampton. But still, if you graduate from this University, I'm sure you'll have a great and shining future.

"I'd never have thought," Hampton went on, "that old Manson would have buried himself* in Blaenelly."

Christine did not like those words and Hampton saw it.

"Well, what do you think of the Conference?" he asked
| "It's a good way of keeping up-to-date,"* Andrew answered.

"Up-to-date!" Hampton laughed. "I have been to none of their meetings this week! It's the contacts that matter! * We play golf together now but it means business!"

"1 don't quite understand you, Freddie," Manson said.

"Why, it's very simple. I'll send them patients and they'll send patients to me. You know how it happens. You scratch my back and I'll scratch yours."* Sometimes it is even useful to make friends with doctors who live and work in the country like you, old man."

Christine looked quickly at Hampton but did not say a word. And Hampton went on, "Money! This is the only thing that matters!" He only smiled when Manson tried to talk about real work and science.

At a quarter to ten Christine got up.

"Isn’t it our train time?"* she asked.

Hampton accompanied them to the door.

Andrew' and Christine walked along the streets in silence.

"Didn't you like Freddie?" he began.

"No! All evening he put himself above you,* patronized you."

"Patronized me? I don’t think so. We were great friends at the University. We had digs together."*

"Probably he found you useful to him. You helped him."

"No, Chris, don't..." he protested unhappily.

"Yes, yes," insisted Christine. "He had ruined our little evening together. It was so lovely before he came and started talking about himself and the money business. And we could have gone to a wonderful concert. Now we've missed it.

It was late when they reached Blaenelly and Christine looked very tired. It was the first time he had seen Christine angry. And he was angry too: angry with himself, with Hampton — yes, with Christine. Yet she was right when she said that the evening had been ruined. He could not speak to her about his feelings now. He saw her home and unhappily, wished her good night.

 

 


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