Doctor in the house by R. Gordon (an extract)

At noon we arrived in the examination building. The same number of candidates were there, but they were a subdued, muttering crowd, like the supporters of a home team who had just been beaten in a cup tie.

We pushed our way into the large hall on the groung floor. It was packed full with anxious students. On the side of the hall facing us was the foot of a marble staircase. To the left of the staircase was a plain open door, over which had been recently pinned a large black and white card saying EXIT. To the night was a clock, which stood at a few minutes before twelve.

We had heard exactly what would happen. At midday precisely the Secretary of the Committee would descend the stairs and take his place flanked by two uniformed porters, on the lowermost step. Under his arm would be a thick, leather-covered book containing the results. One of the porters would carry a list of the candidates' numbers and call them out, one after the other. The candidates would step up closely to the Secretary, who would say simply "Pass" or "Failed". Successful men would go upstairs to receive the congratulations and handshakes of the examiners and failures would slink miserably out of the exit to seek the opiate of oblivion.

"One thing, it's quick", Benskin muttered nervously. "Like the drop," said Grimsdyke.

One minute to twelve. The room had suddenly come to a frightful, unexpected silence and stillness, like an unexploded bomb A clock tinged twelve in the distance. My palms were as wet as .sponges. Someone coughed, and I expected the windows to rattle. With slow scraping feet that could be heard before they appeared the Secretary and the porters came slowly down the stairs.

They took up their positions; the leather book was opened. The elder porter raised his voice.

"Number two hundred and nine," he began. "Number thirty seven. Number one hundred and fifty."

The tension in the room broke as the students shuffled to the front and lined up before the staircase. The numbers were not called in order, and the candidates strained to hear their own over the rumble of conversation and scraping of feet that rose from the assembly.

"Number one hundred and sixty one," continued the porter. "Number three hundred and two. Number three hundred and six."

Grimsdyke punched me hard in the ribs.

"Go on," he hissed. It's you!"

I jumped, and struggled my way to the front of the restless crowd. My pulse shot high in my ears. My face was burning hot and I felt my stomach had been suddenly plucked from my body.

I lined up in the short queue by the stairs. My mind was empty and numb, I scared at the red neck of the man in front of me, with its rim of blue collar above his coat, and studied it with foolish intensity. Suddenly I found myself on top of the Secretary.

"Number three on six?" the Secretary whispered, without looking up from the book. "R. Gordon?"

"Yes," I croaked.

The world stood still. The traffic stopped, the plants ceased growing, men were paralysed, the clouds hung in the air, the winds dropped, the tides disappeared, the sun halted in the sky.

"Pass," the man muttered.

Blindly, like a man just hit by blackjack, I stumbled upstairs.

Лікар в домі.

До вечора ми прибули у екзаменаційну будівлю. Такі ж номери в кандидатів, але вони були переможцями, натовп, схожі на прихильників домашньої команди. Які були побиті о чашці чаю. Ми проштовхнулись у великий зал на першому поверсі. Він був повний стурбованих студентів, зі сторони залу, що повернена до нас було підніжжя мармурових сходів. Зліва від сходів були звичайні відкриті двері, над якими весіла велика чорно-біла вивіска “вхід”, справа був годинник, який показував кілька хвилин по 12.

Ми якраз почули, що сталося. В південь точно Секретар зібрання спустився сходами вниз і зайняв своє місце у ряді між двома невідомими на найвищій сходинці. Під його рукою була товста обтягнута шкірою папка з результатами. Один з швейцарів приніс список з номерами кандидатів і викликав їх один за одним. Кандидати ступали ближче до секретаря, який просто казав “здав” чи “провалив”. Успішні люди йшли на гору одержувати вітання, рукопожаття екзаменаторів, а ті хто провалили іспити виходили бідолашними, крадькома на вихід шукати забуття.