More work required by the Sgt. here...Doc Hollywood eat your heart out!

It was the job he'd been dreaming of. He'd been a registered GP for over twenty years, and finally he got the position he knew would keep him happy through to retirement. He was still amazed at how quickly he had been offered the job; he only posted his application two weeks ago, and already he was driving up to resume his new position.

"Doctor Harold, Resident Doctor, Maplewood Home for the Elderly! Got a nice ring to it that has" he smiled as he manouvered his vehicle around the winding country lanes. It seemed like hours since he last saw a house, but now he could see the Welcome sign of a small quaint Village in the distance. As he neared, he slowed; as above the sign he could see the "30" sign.

Suddenly 'BANG!' A tyre blew. His car pulled to the left, out of control. He fought, but it all happened so fast. As his car came to a stop, he was thankful he wasn't hurt. However, the same wasn't true of Sgt. Bagheera's new fence. He had just finished painting it, and now the unfortunate Doctor had ploughed straight through it.

His car would take a day to repair, plus he had to pay for a new fence. Doctor Harold couldn't believe his bad luck. He was less than 50 miles from Maplewood, and now he'd got to spend the night in this small Village. Still, he had no choice, so he decided he'd make the most of it.

Freddie had often rented out the room above his pub, The Leg Of Lamb, to travellers and waifs and strays that meandered through the hamlet. Doctor Harold checked in, and instantly hit it off with burly Freddie. They were sat discussing various activities they had in common, when all of a sudden, young Lucy.day came running into the pub.

"Freddie, quick, I need to use your telephone" the almost hysterical young girl managed to say

"It's my grandmother! She's cut her thumb on a rose thorn, and I need to call the hospital."

Doctor Harold quickly offered his help, and advised of his profession.

"Oh, please doctor, that would be great". The grateful young child escorted the helpful Harold round the corner, to where her silver-haired old grandmother, Jean, was running her thumb under the tap in the small kitchen in the back of her florists.

"Oh dear, I am sorry" Jean smiled, "she's only a child and over-reacted" she chuckled to the doctor, explaining she'd only asked Lucy to fetch her a plaster.

"Not to worry smiled Harold, I'll have a quick look at your prick (sorry!) whilst I'm here anyway love. Lucy, do you want to take a slow walk back to the pub and let everyone know it's all OK?" Happily, Lucy trotted off. She told Freddie there was no fuss, and again skipped back round to her gran's shop.

As she entered, she saw the doctor, standing in the shop.

"Where's nanna?" the angelic-faced little girl said. Doctor Harold walked over slowly, and knelt. Carefully putting his hand on her shoulder, he spoke softly, and compassionately.

"Lucy, I am so sorry, but your granny didn't make it. That was a terrible prick on her thumb, she really had no chance. She was brave until the end, and asked me to tell you she will always love you. I'll call the morgue, ask them to collect your nan's  corpse before it starts decomposing."

As Doctor Harold left the shop, he spotted old Mrs. George wiping down the tables outside of the Wishing Well cafe. She was waving over at elderly Doris as she locked the Post Office for lunch. Waiting for her was Aunt Rose from the Jumping Bean, looking all of her 48 years. He strolled back round to the pub, where Freddie was sharpening his beef knife behind the bar. 

Sitting at the bar, he thought momentarily, before speaking to the Landlord;

"I might stay a couple of extra nights, if that's OK Fred?"