A Blessing In Disguise by Elvi Rhodes

she turns to Nigel. ‘Nigel, can I leave all that to you while I finish off a few things in the kitchen?’
    So we sit there pleasantly chatting for twenty minutes or so while Sonia darts in and out. I learn that Colin Sharp is something in computers and has a small company in Brampton and that Mark Dover is a painter with a studio halfway up Fenton Hill.
    I chose well on the dress front. Evelyn Sharp is wearing a floral silk dress, knee length, rather nice green suede shoes with pointed toes and kitten heels, and lots of make-up. She looks most attractive, not at all like a headmistress – whatever that means. Sonia is wearing a well-cut pants suit in dark blue, fine wool. My outfit slots in nicely between theirs, attractive, but not overdone. The men? Colin Sharp, a dark suit, white shirt, jazzy tie; Nigel Baines looking elegantly casual in well-cut beige trousers and a yellowish linen jacket over a brown-and-white striped shirt, no tie; Mark Dover in black velvet trousers, cream shirt, silk, also no tie. His clothes complement his thick black hair, which is longer than that of the other men, and his smooth olive skin. His hands, though scrubbed clean, are a little paint stained, especially around the cuticles. All in all we are a colourful group.
    Sonia comes in from the kitchen. ‘OK,’ she says. ‘Shall we eat?’ We move to the other end of the room.
    I am seated between Colin Sharp and Nigel Baines, with Mark Dover opposite. How clever of Sonia, and in my experience how unusual, to have equal numbers of men and women, not to mention that two of them – as far as I know – are unmarried. I suppose they could be gay. I haven’t worked out where she fits in vis-à-vis Mark and Nigel, but possibly nowhere. Nigel is a colleague; Mark could be, probably is, just an old friend.
    The first course is already on the table, a concoction of mixed salad leaves, fresh peaches, mozzarella and prosciutto with a lemony dressing. I am a third of the way through mine, everyone is chattering happily, when my mobile rings. The conversation dies away as I take it out of my handbag and listen to the cool voice of the nurse on the other end. ‘Right!’ I say. ‘I’ll come at once. Mary Parker, Spring Ward.’
    I switch off and turn to the others, who are waiting to hear what it’s all about.
    â€˜I’m sorry,’ I say, ‘I’ll have to leave. Brampton Hospital. A lady who apparently lives in this parish. A serious heart attack. Quite ill, and she wants a priest. Her family are there. They told her to ring St Mary’s Vicarage. I must go. I’m terribly sorry!’
    â€˜Of course you must!’ Sonia says.
    â€˜There’s a hospital chaplain,’ Nigel interrupts.
    â€˜Apparently he’s not available,’ I tell him.
    â€˜Then I’ll take you,’ Nigel says.
    â€˜Oh no!’ I protest. ‘I don’t want to interrupt your evening still further. I feel bad about this.’
    â€˜No need to,’ Sonia says. ‘We’re both doctors, we know all about interrupted evenings. And it’ll be much better if Nigel takes you. He knows the hospital. I don’t suppose you do as yet.’
    â€˜I also know where to park,’ Nigel says. ‘It can be the very devil if you don’t. Come on, Venus. Let’s go!’
    He’s out of the door while Sonia is helping me on with my coat and when I go out he’s in his car with the engine switched on. I suppose it
will
be quicker than going in mine, with him having to direct me every yard of the way.
    â€˜I’ll pick up my car as and when,’ I call out to Sonia, who is standing on the top step.
    â€˜Oh, but you must come back here if you possibly can. You might not be long. I’ll save you both some food.’
    She’s right. I might not be long. On the other hand I could be a couple of hours. It depends what the family want or whether the medics want