I had a dip in my gander bag and decided to go with a bit from this m/m WWI story. Tom Donald has been given a commission by an old colleague that in the event of his death he’ll make contact with his wife, but things are not that simple.
“Can I help you, Captain?” She smiled, pushing a wisp of hair back under her cap.
“I hope so. I’m looking for Dr. Foden.” I tried to relax, aware that I must look as though I was on parade.
“Oh.” The sister looked puzzled. “I’m not aware of anyone with that name. Or is he one of the patients?”
“No. She’s on the staff. She’s been here—” I wasn’t sure but I guessed, “—a couple of years, I think. Perhaps she uses her maiden name, although I’m not sure what that is.”
“Ah, then this must be the wrong place. We don’t have any lady doctors here,” she replied, looking as if the words “lady doctors” left a sour taste in her mouth.
Not here? Whyever not? I remembered the ill-made joke about Veronica losing a patient because nobody could read her notes. Surely she hadn’t been forced to leave because of some mistake she’d made, leaving a trail of resentment? Or was I seeing problems where there were none, and the explanation was much simpler?
More excerpts at the excellent Rainbow snippets group.