“The doctor, who came quickly because he was private, disagreed. Avice, he said, madly in Marion’s opinion, wasn’t as young as she used to be. As if he or anyone else was. Miss Conroy had been doing too much and her heart – he only slightly varied this favoured cliché of his – wasn’t what it used to be. The pain Avice said she had felt predominantly on her left side, caused him alarm. He wanted her to have an ECG even though she assured him the pain was gone now. ‘I can’t go into a hospital,’ Av...ice said. ‘I was in hospital once. I had my appendix out. The nurses were horrible, they called me by my Christian name. Besides, I have to think of Figaro and Susanna.’ ‘I’m sure your cleaning lady will look after them,’ said the doctor. Marion hadn’t been so incensed for years. To be taken for the cleaner! And Avice didn’t correct him. She didn’t say, this is my friend or this is my personal assistant. All she did was carry on refusing to go into, or even to, the hospital and the doctor finally gave up attempting persuasion and told her she must rest and take things easy.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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