The Temple by Brian Smith Page B

you did say that,” he said with the confidence of a
man who feels he has just been cured himself.
    Director Lee looked happy.
“Would you like to hear from some of our other patients, Mr.
Drummond? I’m sure we could spend a wonderful afternoon talking to
many others. What do you say?”
    “Oh, I’m sure that won’t be
necessary,” he said quickly. The exertions of the trip had left him
quite exhausted already and even though all the excitement had
buoyed him he still felt he needed a rest more than anything else.
“Say, Master Jeremiah mentioned you have a nice garden here for the
patients. Is that right?”
    “Yes, would you like to see it?
It’s open to all our patients who are well enough to be out and
about.”
    “Another day,” Drummond said.
“Tomorrow would be nice. I’m feeling exhausted now. What I really
need is a rest.”
    “Then you’ll be staying right
away?” Director Lee said with a smile.
    He nodded.
    “Splendid. Let’s go to the
office and settle the formalities and I’ll have you taken to your
room.” She sneezed and everyone heard the sound of a little thing
falling on the wooden floor. “My tooth!” Director Lee said annoyed.
“It’s come out.”
    She covered her mouth with one
hand to hide the gap in her front teeth. To be accurate it wasn’t
really a tooth but a temporary crown that had been dislodged by her
sneeze. Now everyone was on their knees crawling around and looking
for the missing crown. Only old Mr. Drummond sat in his wheelchair
looking bewildered. A minute later the tooth was found and Director
Lee hurried out with it.
    “I thought we were going to the
office,” Drummond said but Justin was the only one who heard him.
He explained about the tooth and then said with an impish grin
“I’ve got some Tic Tacs here. Shall I drop one on the floor when
Director Lee comes back?”
    Drummond chuckled. “Don’t you
dare, you young rascal!”
    Justin sniggered and was about
to say something when Director Lee came back still holding a hand
in front of her mouth. “Let’s go,” she said.
     
    Director Lee was ensconced in a
huge leather armchair behind an enormous mahogany desk in her
office with Jeremiah, Sycko and Drummond sitting opposite her. She
explained the contract to Drummond and then proceeded to the small
print.
    “Oh, and here’s just one more
little thing that’ll require your signature. It’s a clause stating
that in the event of your demise during your stay with us your
entire estate will fall to the Holy Temple. Just a formality, of
course.” She smiled at Drummond.
    “My demise?” he said looking
bewildered for the second time.
    “It’s an honesty clause, my dear
Drummond,” Jeremiah hastened to add. “What it means is that you
have here, in black and white, an absolute guarantee that you will
leave this hospital again in good health. After all we could never
accept that all your estate was imposed upon us. You have known me
for so many long years not only as an honest Master of the Temple,
but, I dare say, as a friend, and you know in your heart that I
only want what is best for you.”
    “Oh, I see. Well if you put it
that way,” Drummond said slowly, though he wasn’t sure if he did
understand the point Jeremiah was making. He picked up the pen and
signed the document. “I’m sure it’s all the way it should be if you
say it, Jeremiah. And you’re quite sure you’ll be able to help me
here?” he said even though it was really too late for any last
minute doubts.
    “Of course we will,” Director
Lee said from behind her hand. “Just leave everything to us. But I
see you’re tired. I suggest you go to your room now and Jeremiah
will get your things from the car.”
    Jeremiah handed Sycko the keys.
Sycko hesitated for a moment, not sure whether carrying the old
man’s bags or pushing his wheelchair was the harder job to do, but
then decided that it was the wrong moment to argue with Jeremiah
and in any case it might not make