of 21 Graham Road-dated 1982
Southampton
Octobers, 1982
Dear M,
Thought the enclosed might interest you. 1 went up to see some old friends in Richmond and happened upon the Rich. & Twick by chance. Skullduggery abounds, it seems, and there won't be much love lost between cloth and stethoscope following the Rev's libelous remarks! I remember him from Annie's funeral-a fat little bloke with sweaty palms-but don't think I ever came across the doctor. Jock and I had a man with a huge mustache.
All goes well here. I'm into my final year and after numerous attempts-a girl has to do what a girl has to do if she isn't to make the same mistake again!-I have finally met a winner. Sweet guy by the name of Jim Garth. Watch this space, as they say!
Love,
Libby
Local Doctor Denies Neglect
Dr. Sheila Arnold, 41, a partner at the Cromwell Street Surgery, Richmond, denies neglect after Frederick Potts, 87, was discovered close to death earlier this week in his flat in Charming Towers. Mr. Potts owes his life to his neighbor, Mrs. Gwen Roberts, 62. "I heard Fred banging on the party wall," she said, "so I phoned the police."
Police described Mr. Potts's condition as "shocking." He had been unable to get out of bed for several days and was in severe pain from untreated ulcers on his legs and back. He was also dehydrated and undernourished. Dr. Arnold was questioned by police following alleged claims from neighbors that she had refused to arrange nursing care for Mr. Potts because "he had been abusive to carers in the past." Dr. Arnold denies the claims.
Parallels are being drawn between this case and the case of Ann Butts, 42, an untreated alcoholic with a history of mental illness, who was also a patient of Dr. Arnold. Following Miss Butts's death in November 1978, the coroner described the conditions in which she had been living as "disgraceful." "It is the responsibility of health and social workers to protect the most vulnerable members of our society," he said. Dr. Arnold denies that the coroner was referring to her, claiming she was in America when Miss Butts stumbled in front of a truck after a drinking spree and suffered fatal head injuries.
According to the Reverend Peter Stanhope, 45, vicar of St. Mark's church, Mr. Potts will be offered a flat in sheltered accommodation as soon as he's well enough to leave the hospital.
"There's no excuse for this kind of neglect," the Reverend Stanhope said. "Lessons should have been learned following Ann Butts's death so that the same mistakes could not happen again."
Richmond & Twickenham Times-Friday, June 18,1982
Southampton
12 February 1983
Written in haste. This is the follow-up to the doctor/vicar saga. 2nd round to the Doc, I think, although the piece is so tiny 1 doubt anyone bothered to read it!
Love,
Libby
Doctor Cleared by BMA
Dr. Sheila Arnold, 42, of the Cromwell Road Surgery, Richmond, was cleared of neglect during a brief hearing at the British Medical Association yesterday. Written evidence was submitted to show that Mr. Potts, 87, was registered with another practice at the time of the alleged incident and had not been a patient of Dr. Arnold since May 1980.
Richmond & Twickenham Times-Friday, January 28,1983
*5*
An immediate pall fell over our little party when Sheila told Larry that I was planning to look up Peter Stanhope to see if he knew what had become of Annie's possessions. Neither of them seemed remotely interested that he had never been inside her house, and couldn't possibly know what possessions she had. His name alone spelled depression.
Larry didn't like the idea at all and watched me warily from behind his wineglass, while Sam flicked worried glances around the three of us, clearly wondering who Peter Stanhope was and why his name should cause Larry concern. Sam became rather loud as a result-he always hated finding himself at a disadvantage-and, in an unkind way, I took pleasure from his embarrassment. He had only himself to blame, after all, for it was he who had imposed a silence on the whole subject.
I spent half an hour that evening trying to locate the Reverend Peter Stanhope through directory inquiries, but no one of that name was listed in Richmond and the operator refused to look for Rev P. Stanhopes in other parts of England. Nor was there a listing for St. Mark's Church and, as I didn't know the name of the present vicar, I couldn't obtain the number of the vicarage either. It would all have been a great deal easier if Sam hadn't stood over me while I did it-I could have suggested the operator try Stanhopes in Exeter, but I wasn't ready to show my hand quite so blatantly. In the end, and half-jokingly, I suggested Sam phone Jock Williams, a confirmed atheist, and ask him to drive to St. Mark's Church from his house on the other side of Richmond to see if the new vicar's name was printed on the board outside. To my surprise he agreed.
"He wants to know what's up," Sam said on his return to the kitchen where I was doing the washing up.
"What did you tell him?"
"That the boss would have my guts for garters if I didn't help her track down 'Mad Annie's' missing valuables." He gave a quirky grin. "He thought you were 'round the bend twenty years ago. Now he thinks we've both lost it. He asked me why anyone would think an old tramp like Annie had valuables."
I propped a plate on the drain board. "What did you say?"
"Repeated what Larry told us about jadeite. It gave him a bit of a shock, as a matter of fact ... said he didn't think Annie had two brass farthings to rub together."
"I expect he'd have been nicer to her if he'd known," I said tartly. "Jock always responds better to the chink of money."
"Mm, well, he's now advising me to put my huge gains from Hong Kong into some offshore fund he's operating out of the Isle of Man. He's got a wheeze for avoiding tax and he's prepared to cut me in on the deal if I'm interested."
"Knowing Jock, it'll be illegal."
"Unethical certainly," said Sam cheerfully, "but then he doesn't believe in a welfare state. Says it's against Darwin's theory of evolution. The sick, the lame and the poor are supposed to die. That's how natural selection works."
I held up a fork to examine the prongs. "He'll get his comeuppance one day," I said. "Arrogant, self-serving bastards always do. That's the unwritten law of natural selection-old bulls die painfully." I eyed him suspiciously. "I hope you told him where to stuff his tax wheeze."
"Not likely," he said. "The only reason he's driven off to St. Mark's on a Sunday evening is because he thinks I'm going to swell his coffers with megabucks." He straddled a chair. "How come you and Jock know each other so well? As I remember it, you used to avoid him as much as possible."
The question took me by surprise. "What kind of 'knowing' are we talking about?"
"I've no idea. That's why I'm asking."
I tried unsuccessfully to hide a smile. "Are you hinting at the biblical kind?"
"Maybe."
I snorted laughter through my nose. "That's funny."
"Why?"
"He's a boring little squirt with a power complex," I said. "Even his wife didn't fancy him, so I don't know what makes you think I would."
"It was just a question," he said huffily.
"What brought it on?"
"He wasn't surprised when I told him you'd taken up Annie's cause again. He said he'd been expecting it."
"So?" I asked curiously.
"He seems to know you better than I do. I thought you'd forgotten all about her. You haven't mentioned her name in twenty years."