“I’ve got a cold,”aid Ali.

220

Clara called the real Dr. Frankburg from her car phone.

“Who?” said Frankburg.

“Clara Redlake.”

Frankburg nearly dropped the receiver.

“Oh God, um.” Frankburg coughed. “Hold on, I’ll just put you through to him.”

He held his head away from the receiver and shouted, “Dr. Frankburg, there’s a call for you!” Then in a muffled Welsh voice he shouted, as if from another room, “Hang on a minute.” Then he paused and thought about what to do.

“Hello?” he said in his normal voice. “Um, Dr. Frankburg is in with a client at the moment, can I help? I’m his assistant.”

“Didn’t you just shout at him?”

“Well, yes, but I forgot that he was otherwise engaged. Can I pass on a message?”

“I thought I heard him shouting back.”

“Yes, true, he did shout back.”

“Won’t that have been a bit distracting for his client?”

“No, not really, I don’t think it’s a serious case, probably just a whiner.”

“A what?”

“Nothing. Can I get him to call you back?”

“I wanted to alert him to the fact that there is someone on the air in the States at the moment who is claiming to be Dr. Frankburg from England.”

“What?”

“Giving therapeutic advice on a talk show. She’s pretty good actually.”

“She?”

“She.”

“The bitch.”

“What?”

“Sorry, yes, I’ll certainly get Dr. Frankburg to call you. I think I can hear him coming out now, in fact, so it’ll only be a few minutes I should think. If that’s all right.”

“Fine.”

She gave her number.

“Um, Dr. Frankburg is still suffering from tonsillitis so don’t be surprised if he’s a bit croaky and not particularly Welsh.”

“Still? That was two years ago.”

“Well, it’s a stubborn bug. Nice to talk to you.”

Frankburg put down the phone then immediately picked it up and dialed Clara’s number.

“Clara?” rasped Frankburg.

“Yes.”

“Dr. Frankburg here. Sorry about my assistant, he’s new.”

“You sound terrible.”

“Yes, it still gets me now and then.”

“Perhaps shouting down from your consulting room strained it.”

“Yes, yes, probably did.”

“I was saying to your assistant, it must have alarmed your client.”

“Oh, I wasn’t really in with a client, it was more a meeting, an informal meeting with friends. My assistant gets confused from time to time.”

“He sounded rather old to be an assistant.”

“Well, not that old, middle-aged. He’s changing careers, he’s been in prison.”

“I see.”

“Well, not prison exactly, more a prisoner.”

“What sort of prisoner?”

“Um, prisoner of conscience . . .”

“A political prisoner?”

“Um, yes.”

“My God, how awful, I’d like to talk to him.”

“Well, he’s still a bit traumatized, I wouldn’t bring it up if I were you.”

“Where was he in prison?”

“Chile.”

“Really? He didn’t sound Chilean.”

“No, well, he went to school here in England, and then sort of went over and sort of protested against, um . . .”

“Pinochet?”