Chapter 8 #2
‘We had known each other for many years. Even before I came to settle here. I did my foundation training in Nottingham after moving from India and lived there for some years. As a younger doctor I helped care for her husband Reginald – Lord Porter – at the University Hospital when he died of pneumonia. The tragedy is that today, while we would not have been able to cure him, we would have been able to prolong his life. Things were never the same for her after that, she cut all ties with the area and moved here.’
‘Did you know Lady Porter when she lived in India?’ Lara ventured.
‘India? What on earth makes you ask that?’ He sounded genuinely surprised.
‘She was never in India… as far as I know.’ He frowned as if the thought upset him.
Then looking at Lara over the top of his glasses, and smiling sardonically, added, ‘Do you presume I would know everyone in India just because it is the country of my birth?’
Lara then said something that made Abby stare at her, a rare look of surprise on her face.
The effect on the doctor, however, was completely different. His face split into a boyish grin and he laughed. ‘And that is a very good lesson for me. Not to make assumptions too. Where did you learn to speak Hindi?’
Lara smiled back, pleased that her one Indian language turned out to be the one that the doctor spoke. She also really hoped that Dr Patil did not turn out to be their murderer. ‘I studied languages at university. Mainly Middle Eastern but I know a little Hindi. Enough to apologise anyway.’
‘No need for an apology,’ his smile then faded. ‘I find that extraordinary – the mention of India.’
‘Yes, she told great stories about her childhood and from when she was a young woman,’ Lara informed him.
He shook his head and said, ‘How well can we ever say we know anyone?’
Lara wondered if he was talking about himself, or her. However, encouraged by this more personal conversation (and trying to ignore Abby who was sitting on top of a long line of filing cabinets), Lara ventured, ‘Did you think it was suicide, Dr Patil?’
This time he looked at her sharply. ‘In my experience, it is impossible to predict who will take their own life. It is often those who hide their pain from the world and as I said earlier, how well can we know anyone? So in that sense… yes… on reflection… yes, I do.’
‘But why? I still don’t understand why?’ Lara couldn’t help pleading. She felt as Lady Porter’s doctor and her friend – surely he must have some idea.
After a pause Dr Patil continued, ‘All I can tell you is that once Elizabeth had made her mind up to something, she wouldn’t have hesitated. And that is why I believed it to be suicide. No fuss. No bother.’
Lara had always called her friend Lady Porter and now she realised she had never known her first name.
It wasn’t social hierarchy that kept Lara calling her Lady Porter, it was just that it suited her so well…
the stories… her way of speaking… the Pink Gins.
Now she wondered if that is what they had been, just stories? Or was the doctor hiding something?
Lara nearly missed the doctor’s next comment.
‘A determined woman without a doubt.’ He gave a funny gesture, somewhere between a shrug and a laugh. ‘You could say it runs in the family.’
Lara heard Abby’s long drawn out, ‘Interesting.’
‘Family?’ Lara queried, looking at Abby, who gave her a small nod.
‘What?’ It seemed Dr Patil’s mind had wandered.
‘You said it ran in the family. Were you thinking of Lord Porter or—’
Lara had been about to add Richard, but Dr Patil cut in, ‘Yes, yes, Reginald. You don’t get to be a peer of the realm from a working-class background without a considerable amount of drive.’ He sat back down at his desk.
Lara tried another tack, ‘Do you think she could have taken an overdose by mistake?’
‘No,’ Dr Patil said firmly. ‘There was absolutely nothing wrong with Elizabeth Porter’s faculties.’
Lara was in complete agreement with him, but he said this so fiercely that she was puzzled.
Dr Patil then started making notes on his computer and quickly and efficiently instructed Lara on the care of her ankle. It seemed the confidences were over. ‘Was there anything else?’ he asked politely, but with finality.
Lara looked helplessly at Abby who was now happily reading the notes on the doctor’s screen.
She felt this was a breach of ghostly etiquette but it did give her an idea.
‘One final thing, would you mind telling me when you last saw Lady Porter?’ She carried on quickly, ‘I know it’s none of my business, but I’m just trying to get it straight in my head how she was over the last few weeks. And I wondered if you had seen her?’
After a pause of some moments, Dr Patil started clicking away at the computer and scrolling through the screen.
He might not have been so accommodating had he known that Abby’s face was inches away from his right shoulder and that she was quickly reading everything that was appearing before him.
‘I visited Lady Porter a few times this year, both as her friend and as her doctor. However, the last time I saw her, was in a professional capacity, and that was the 10th of August. A minor matter. She was otherwise in good health and spirits.’
Lara mentally registered the date – about three weeks before Lady Porter died.
‘But as I said at the beginning, one never knows. I believe my conclusion, which was reinforced by the coroner, was correct. Now I hope that puts your mind at rest and is the end of the matter.’
Once outside the surgery, Abby commented, ‘Well, Lara McGregor you are full of surprises.’
As she said this in Hindi, Lara stopped dead in her tracks.
Abby continued briskly, ‘Come along, don’t dawdle. We have things to do.’