Chapter Text
SUMMER 1898, July
GILBERT
Today was The day.
Gilbert took in a deep breath and managed to keep his hand steady while getting closer to the patient sitting in the middle of the room.
He looked into the not-amused face and wondered if Mr. Harris also felt like an experimental rabbit. Gilbert certainly did. But it was not his vein that was going to be pierced by the cold metal syringe so he continued taking deep calming breaths and holding his face expressionless.
One minute ago, Dr. Ward prepared the syringe and handed it over to Gilbert "It's your turn, Mr. Blythe,” saying calmly.
To say that Gilbert was terrified was an understatement. Only a year ago, he passed out just from watching a syringe piercing his brother's skin when Dr. Ward applied the medicament.
And today was his turn apparently.
When Dr. Ward accepted him for apprenticeship, Gilbert was warned right away that syringes are one of the main doctor's instruments, and he will have to overcome his fear to be taken seriously in his practice.
They started off easy. Firstly, Gilbert learned the basics of the instrument and its parts, and only when Dr. Ward felt that Gilbert understood the mechanism completely, he had been allowed to touch the damn thing, to clean it, or check in great detail its quality. It took weeks till Gilbert was assigned the task of preparing the syringe with medicament and that was still under Dr. Wards strict supervision.
Mr. Harris was a regular patient of Dr. Ward around the same age, always dressed well. Although he was rather thin for his age with rich white hair but no beard, he still managed to possess a natural wave of strong authority around himself.
With other patients, Gilbert had been merely watching at first as Dr. Ward checked the vital functions and asked firmly set questions to conclude diagnoses and apply corresponding treatment. Gilbert was fascinated by the wide range of problems they had to deal with as well as the variety of people coming to them.
When Dr. Ward started to include Gilbert more in the process by asking tricky questions, testing him on knowledge and abilities, Mr. Harris remained a mystery. Every time he was injected with a medicament and released home without any further examination.
It was huge surprise to Gilbert when Dr. Ward asked him to measure heart rate at different body parts and blood pressure in the case of Mr. Harris, as his first time doing so. And now the injection too.
He already got to the moment where one of his hands was holding the skin of Mr. Harris’s arm ready for the injection while the other hand put the syringe in the right ankle, when he was interrupted by sudden loud noise and abrupt yank of the arm he held.
“Huff!” came from Mr. Harris without any visible body impulse.
Unfortunately, Gilbert’s posture wasn't so strong to not leap by shock and drop the syringe on the floor.
“Mr. Blythe!” Dr. Ward exclaimed sharply. Just wonderful!
“I apologise. Mr. Harris. Dr. Ward.” He should have known. Mr. Harris never missed an opportunity to share a sharp sneer at his incompetents or embarrass him without reason.
Even when Gilbert managed to do everything right, he was criticised for his choice of clothes which had been his father’s only suit that was still left. It was big on him but clean and proper.
Dr. Ward was looking sadly at the syringe that was now unsterilised and therefore futile. “You shall know how sensitive these things are!”
Gilbert felt sincerely bad too. “I know…”
“You shall know, Doctor, that this unable boy dressed in oversized clothes, trying to do work he doesn’t have any dispositions for, is just a lost of our time.”
Gilbert’s ears went red with anger, and new resolution hit him suddenly.
“I am telling you yet again,” Mr. Harris continued to Dr. Ward, silently provoking Gilbert to say something.
But Gilbert already made his mind.
“I apologise again, Dr. Ward. Could you please prepare a new syringe?” Gilbert tried to look at him with sheer confidence. “I believe I can handle the injection now and clean everything afterwards.”
“Very well, Mr. Blythe.” Dr. Ward agreed and went to a cabinet to prepare the medicament.
“You'll let the boy destroy another one?” Mr. Harris argued with scoff on his face.
Dr. Ward ignored him and handed Gilbert a new syringe. “I trust Mr. Blythe to handle this just right.”
“I still have to see it.” But at that time Gilbert already injected him and was slowly transferring the liquid medicament into his body.
“All right, Mr. Harris?” asked Gilbert, putting the empty syringe away.
“Yeah.” He rolled his sleeves down and proceeded with putting on the rest of his suit, watching Gilbert thoughtfully all the while.
“When you finish here, I expect you at Marble Park number 6.” Mr. Harris commanded.
“Pardon? Marble Park?”
Mr. Harris glared at him. “Yes, you managed to hear correctly. We shall have tea together at 4 in the afternoon.”
“Erm.” Gilbert was perplexed. Tea together? Why?
“You will be accepted even wearing this horrible suit.” then Mr. Harris turned to Dr. Ward saying “Good day” and left.
It was 3 o’clock and Gilbert was cleaning the room for the day. He paid extra attention to the syringes and checked that all were shining brightly.
He was done and ready to leave when Dr. Ward turned to him. “You should be proud of yourself for today.”
Gilbert smiled gratefully. “I am not sure proud is a word I would use, but thank you.”
Dr. Ward nodded and added kindly “You just need to practice more. There is time, of course, since your studies still await you, but handling a real patient is very different from any theory. As a doctor you will need to earn their trust and that cannot be done with nervous behaviour.”
Or with a very uncooperative patient, Gilbert thought. But he knew that was part of the job as well and responded sincerely. “One day, I hope to be as confident and calm as you, Dr. Ward.”
“Perhaps, it would help you to try some of the methods first on a family member or good friend? Even a classmate would do. With good imagination you can try many scenarios. Then you should be less nervous around patients.”
A family member for such tryouts could be only Bash nowadays as Mary was with Delly and Gilbert wouldn’t be comfortable taking any of her time. Bash would be happy to help for sure but he didn’t have it in him to keep straight face, and when Gilbert recalled the person with the right scope for imagination in his class, he refused the idea immediately. Because... no way! And less nervous? Ha!
When Gilbert hadn’t said anything for a while, lost in his thoughts, Dr. Ward concluded their conversation. “As I said, you still have enough time here or at the university. It was just a thought.”
When he came out of the consulting room, he saw Ms. Rose still in the office, cleaning her desk.
“Are you leaving already, Mr. Blythe?” she asked with her head full of blond curls turned to the bookcase, not looking at him.
He had finally managed not to blush in front of Ms. Rose after two months visiting Dr. Wards's practice regularly. Ms. Rose was very beautiful and sophisticated young lady helping in the practice as well. From what Gilbert understood, Ms. Rose knew Dr. Ward since childhood and admired his work to such extent she took the position eagerly. She never did the medical stuff but carried out anything to do with administration or organisation. She was very gentle in dealing with all patients, and Gilbert admired her.
“Yes, I am. Dr. Ward is finished for the day too.”
“Have a nice journey, then.” She wished him pleasantly while turning to face him.
For some reason Gilbert felt reluctant to leave just yet. “Do you have a comfortable way home?” He winced. That came out stupid.
Ms. Rose charming as ever saved him with an easy smile and teasing voice. “Why now? Are you trying to find out where I live?”
“No, of course not. Just, that it’s a nice day for a walk.” Gilbert replied quickly, hoping to salvage his foolishness.
“It is. Specially, when one enjoys walking as much as me.” She looked at him expectantly. “What about you?”
“Me?”
That charming smile again.
“Do you enjoy walking, Mr. Blythe?”
He felt giddy while answering “I do, very much, but as it appears I am expected now to visit Mr. Harris.”
It seemed that Gilbert wasn’t the only one surprised by this fact. “Really!? Good luck, then.”
Yes, Ms. Rose understood pretty well. “Thank you. I will need it.”
Gilbert was nervous. And the grandiosity of the house in front of him didn’t help.
He couldn’t grasp the reason why he was invited here in the first place. And he thought about it the whole way over. There were two options he considered most likely. Either Mr. Harris came up with some grand scheme how to embarrass Gilbert that could not be done in front of Dr. Ward, or Gilbert did something that offended him and shall therefore receive proper scolding. Gilbert actually hoped for the second option.
“Good day. Is Mr. Harris home? My name is Gilbert Blythe.” Gilbert asked politely the butler that opened the door for him.
“Good day, sir. Come with me, please. Master is awaiting you in the parlour.”
Gilbert took off his cap before following the butler through a hall leading into one of the rooms on the ground floor.
“Good afternoon.” Gilbert greeted carefully Mr. Harris who was sitting in one of the two chairs near the largest window overlooking a green park outside.
“Afternoon,” Mr. Harris replied with almost pleasant expression.
“Are you feeling well?” Gilbert asked, shocked, while sitting down in the second chair following Mr. Harris’s hand command.
The pleasant expression disappeared immediately. “What’s that for a question? I don’t consider you a doctor to inquire such unhelpful things as my well-being.”
Gilbert sighed. That went down pretty quickly. “Isn’t that what’s regarded as good manners almost in every situation?”
Mr. Harris snorted. “If you knew proper manners, Mr. Blythe, you would have thanked me for my kind invitation by now and not argue with me.”
“Thank you for the invitation.” Gilbert complied. He noticed a tea set already prepared on a small decorative table and decided to pour them both tea rather than saying anything foolish again.
Mr. Harris took the cup filled with black tea, nothing added, and started conversation. “Good. Now, tell me. Where in the world did you get such disastrous suit?”
He should have known that they'll touch upon this topic. “It belonged to my father and I would appreciate it if you…”
“Doesn’t your father have got any other suits?” Mr. Harris demanded without giving him a chance to express anything other than duty answers.
“My father died two and half years ago.” Gilbert confessed reluctantly and took a sip of his tea. Will it ever get easier having to admit this?
Mr. Harris hadn’t even blinked before continuing with the questioning.
“Young age to loose a father figure, or was there anybody in your family that could take over that role?”
“I am the only one left from our kin.” Gilbert said sombrely.
“Fortunately, I was able to find a new one in the form of my brother Bash from Trinidad, his wife Mary and now also a newborn girl named Delly.” he quickly added, not wanting to remain grim.
“How does one come to a brother from Trinidad?” Mr. Harris asked, insisting on further explanation.
“Working endless hours with coal at the bottom of an ocean ship for a whole year.” Gilbert replied without shame.
Mr. Harris watched him in confusion, furrowing his brows while asking “I thought, Dr. Ward said you had a farm in this Avonlea?”
“True, but I never saw myself as a real farmer at all and decided to get to know the world little better. Bash always wanted somewhere to land on the other hand and when the time came, to come back home, he went with me.” Gilbert said confidently.
The mood of the conversation changed. Mr. Harris leaned back in his chair and asked without any noticeable judgment or pressure.
“Do you think, your father would be proud of you after all this?”
Gilbert saw sincere interest in his eyes and didn’t mind answering honestly. “I hope to keep his legacy going by cherishing his ideals and looking after what he left here.”
“What ideals are we talking about?” Mr. Harris requested in gentle voice.
“Discovering the world’s diversity while staying kind, responsible and true to himself. He looked after our family, the farm and orchard with passion. He travelled and read a lot, too. That was my father.” Gilbert smiled in melancholy. He missed him so much.
Mr. Harris nodded without saying anything and let Gilbert finally breath for a moment.
The silence in the room felt comfortable and Gilbert allowed his mind to wander. He felt proud when he looked into the other man's eyes and saw respect. Respect given to his father was more than anything to him. He admitted to himself that it was nice to speak with somebody about him once again and appreciate the great person he was. Gilbert thought of him often but sharing his thoughts with somebody else was totally different.
He had to ask though. “Mr. Harris, why did you invite me?”
Mr. Harris lifted up his brows and replied evenly, his voice returning to the normal state he had around Gilbert.
“When you’re in my age, everybody expects only brandy and cigars. I gave up both so I had to find somebody sad enough for tea party.”
On the train ride back home Gilbert recalled his conversation with Mr. Harris. After they left the topic of his father, he received recommendation to subscribe to a particularly comprehensive medical journal as well as a list of the town bookstores with professional literature, should he request more medical books. It was all done through remarks about fighting incompetence and his desperate need for at least some knowledge. Nevertheless, Gilbert was starting to suspect that Mr. Harris was kind to the bone and accepted the invitation for another tea.
Also, he could have sweared that if it wasn’t for his visit with Mr. Harris, he might have gone scrolling through Charlottetown with beautiful Ms. Rose on his arm today. Even only one such experience would be marvellous. She was so different from the girls at his school and made Gilbert feel more grown-up, more man. All in all, this had been an amazing day, and he couldn’t wait for more of these to come. And to imagine that in a month he starts his last year at the Avonlea school! Sure, there will be less time for his apprenticeship and Charlottetown but Gilbert cherished his education and the possibilities it gave to really start working toward his dream. This might be his last year in Avonlea with his old friends, at his old farm, and he intended to make most of it.