In Knight & Deigh, Hannice Knight suffered a back injury that left him without the use of his legs. Sophie Deigh, physiotherapist and recent widow, devoted herself to supporting him.
As Hannice’s body recovered, he became ever closer to Sophie, and soon they found themselves in a relationship they had neither anticipated nor intended, and for which neither was fully prepared.
A bump in the Knight followed Hannice as he juggled business, hedonism, marriage and ultimately parenthood.
Knight after Knight is the third and final part of the Hannice Knight story. Starting after the marriage of Hannice and Sophie’s only son, David to Jess, the only child of Jason and Noelani Reeves of Hawaii, it traces the Knight family’s progression through the generations.
Knight after Knight. Chapter two, part four.
I had it done. All of it. Blood tests, urine tests, physical examinations even those of the most intimate kind. It wasn’t too bad. Like so many things, the anticipation was immeasurably worse than the fact.
During our walk back from the clinic, Sophie asked me whether I thought it would be a good idea to put Pepu and Jen through a full medical check-up.
“What for?” I asked, “They both seem okay to me.”
“Exactly. They both seem okay, but are they? Can you tell, just by looking at them?”
“Point taken. I’ll set it up.”
“No, you won’t. I know you, something else will get in the way and it’ll be forgotten. I’ll set it up.”
“As you wish. Doesn’t matter which of us sets it up…”
“As long as it is done. Anyway, I’m down there often enough, I can take them and perhaps alleviate some of their natural apprehensions.”
They had it done. They were fine.
A week or so later, Sophie came back from her shift at the clinic and told me that Dr Willis would like to see us both.
“Any idea what for?” I asked.
“He didn’t say, but he wants to see us together. Apparently, it’s something to do with our tests. When can you do it?”
“Did he sound urgent?”
“You know what he’s like. He always sounds the same. Reading between the lines, though, I think it should be soon.”
“Okay. Can you set it up for tomorrow afternoon?”
Sophie called through and arranged to meet with the doctor the following afternoon.
Neither of us slept very well that night.
“I need to talk to you about some of these results,” Dr Willis said after we’d entered his office and seated ourselves across the desk from him.
“Trouble?” I asked.
“Depends what you call trouble,” he said, “Hannice, you need to shed some weight. Your blood sugar and cholesterol are both borderline. I want to see you at least once a month initially to get it under control. You know that your blood pressure was at the top end of acceptable when we measured it before. Let’s have a look at it now.” I removed my jacket and rolled my shirtsleeve up to the shoulder. He placed the cuff on me and inflated it. “Hmm. Borderline raised,” he said, “we need to keep an eye on that, too.” He pressed the intercom button on his desk and instructed his receptionist to book an appointment for me in one month. “Now, Sophie. I’m afraid your colo-rectal screen showed traces of blood in your stool. Now, that could be nothing, but I think we should have you in for a colonoscopy to be on the safe side. Have you had any problems with your digestion lately?”
“A bit of indigestion now and again, but that’s all. I put that down to eating the wrong stuff.”
“Let’s see what the colonoscopy throws up, shall we? I can do it for you next Wednesday if that suits.”
“Yes, Doctor. Whenever. Let’s just get it cleared up.”
“Great. In the meantime, I’d like our dietitian to have a chat with your new cook; give her some pointers to keep you two, and your parents, Sophie, as fit and healthy as I know you’d like to be.”
“Jen would love that, Doctor,” Sophie said, “she said she’s always wanted to train as a dietitian and the chance to learn a little from a real one would really please her.”
“Good. I’ll set that up. I’ll have her come to you, if you’d prefer.”
“Will your dietitian be able to recommend a course Jen could take?” I asked, “We’ve already told her we’d cover any costs involved.”
“Janine, that’s our dietitian’s name, teaches part-time at the local college. I’m sure she’d be happy to enrol your girl. I take it her English is up to it…”
“Better than mine, sometimes,” Sophie said.
“Leave it with me. I’ll let Janine know when she sees your girl that she’s a potential student, as well as being your cook. And I’ll see you next Wednesday, Sophie. Have a light meal the evening before and I’ll prescribe a self-administered enema for you to use when you get up. If you can be in here by ten, I’ll be able to see you straight away. And, Hannice – one month. Okay?”
“Thank you, Doctor,” I said. I stood and shook his hand before we both left his office.
On the way home, I could sense that Sophie was worried about what Dr Willis had told her.
“I know it’s early,” she said, “but what if they find something terrible?”
“If they do, then we’ll talk about it. So far, all they’ve found is a small trace of blood in your poo. It might be nothing. It often is. You’ll find out on Wednesday if there’s anything to worry about.”
“Thanks, Hannice. Okay if I worry about your blood pressure, blood sugar and cholesterol?”
“No. I’m not going to worry about it. It might be a blip. He’ll keep an eye on me anyway and do whatever he thinks needs to be done to keep it under control.”
“The thing I worry about most is diabetes.”
“He didn’t mention that, so I’m assuming it’s not a risk. Not an immediate one, anyway. Seriously though. Can you see me sticking a needle into myself every day?”
“No, I can’t,” she said with a grin, “I’m hoping that Janine, the dietitian, will help Jen to keep us fit.”
“And that what she has Jen cooking for us isn’t too awful—”
“Or too bland.”
“Or too little!”
We held hands and continued back to Knight Towers like a couple of young lovers. I could sense, though, that Sophie was a long way from reassured.