Free An Irish Country Doctor by Patrick Taylor Page A

"The rest's right too."
    Barry felt smug.
    "So are you worried now, Maureen?"
    Barry looked at the woman's face. The furrows were back and were keeping company with three deeper ones that ran upwards from the bridge of her nose. She glanced from O'Reilly to Barry, then back to O'Reilly. "Not if you say so, Doctor." 
    "Just like Doctor Laverty said, Maureen, there's one baby, just the one . . ."
    Some of the furrows flattened.
    ". . . Straight up and down, the back of its head is on the right-- that's the most normal way--and the head's dropped. The little divil's halfway out already."
    Her forehead became smooth, a twinkle shone in her green eyes, laugh lines appeared at the corners. She gave a contented sigh. "That's great, so it is."
    Barry cleared his throat. He saw how he'd baffled the woman with his jargon. She hadn't understood a word of his "singleton, right occipito-anterior" talk, but O'Reilly had gone right to the heart of the matter in plain English.
    "Come on." O'Reilly helped her off the couch. She adjusted her underwear and straightened her dress. "Right," he said, "same time next week."
    "And if the waters break or the pains start, I've to phone you." 
    "You'll be fine, Maureen," O'Reilly said. "By the way, how's Seamus?"
    "His ankle's on the mend, Doctor, and he hopes you liked the lobsters."
    "We did." O'Reilly took her elbow and began to steer her to the door. "Tell him to pop in next week, and I'll take another look at his hoof."
    She stopped and looked him in the eye. "Seamus means well. He's a heart of corn, but sometimes--"
    "Don't you worry about Seamus," said O'Reilly. "I'll take care of him." He winked at Barry, who had a vivid mental picture of an airborne supplicant with a dirty foot. That Galvin was this young woman's husband?
    "You'll not need to much longer," she said in a whisper. "You'll not tell no one, Doctor, but my brother--"
    "The builder in California?"
    "Aye. He's got a job out there for Seamus, and we've saved up for the tickets. We're going after the baby's born."
    "Wonderful," said O'Reilly, and Barry wondered whether his colleague's delight was due to the Galvins making a fresh start or to the practice losing one of his less favourite patients. 
    "Now don't you tell."
    "I promise."
    "I'll be in next week." She left.
    "I'll be damned," said O'Reilly. Moving to the desk, he sat and wrote the results in Maureen Galvin's record. "Maybe the worthy Seamus'll have to do an honest day's work in America. I wonder where they got the money? He's a carpenter by trade, but to my knowledge he's hardly done a hand's turn here." He looked up. "One of life's little mysteries. By the way," he asked, "was her urine clear?"
    "Yes," said Barry. He hesitated. "I'm sorry I didn't explain things to her better."
    O'Reilly fished out his pipe and lit it before he said, "Ah, but you will the next time, won't you?"
    "I will."
    "Grand," said O'Reilly. "Now tidy up those urine-test kits. We've another test to go and read after we've had lunch."
    "Wonderful, Kinky," said O'Reilly, pushing away his plate, "and those lobsters last night? They'd have brought a tear to a glass eye."
    "Get on with you, Doctor O'Reilly," Kinky said. Barry saw the corners of her eyes wrinkle and dimples appear in her ample cheeks. "It was only a shmall little thing, so." 
    "They were delicious, Mrs. Kincaid."
    "Aye, so, well you need to keep up your shtrength, Doctor Laverty. Judging by the shtate of your corduroys, you'd been running a race through the Bog of Allen yesterday."
    "Very muddy," Barry agreed.
    "Don't you worry," she said. "I've them washed and hung up to dry."
    "Thank you."
    She bustled away, calling over her shoulder, "And I think the good Lord's looking out for you today. There's no calls in at all, and it roaring down out there like water from a fire hose, so." 
    "It is that," said O'Reilly, "but there's no peace for the wicked. We've to go back to the Fotheringhams'."
    "We wouldn't have to," Barry ventured, "if it