Chapter 68

Chapter 68

Foundation

In my previous life I grew up in an orphanage attached to a convent.

The place being the place there were always words emphasized before falling asleep.

They didn't say obvious sounds like live kindly, or live helping others.

Just the mother superior nun held the Nightingale biography and read it like reading a fairy tale as a lullaby all!

And that until the pages all wore out and became tattered!

The fact that I walk the alleys of London and distribute bread to pitiful people was also, I was absolutely not a saint!

Because I heard Nightingale's spirit of service so long and was brainwashed if doing nothing one corner of the heart becomes unnecessarily uncomfortable!

So as soon as I heard the name of the hoho grandmother in front of my eyes, I was startled and pulled the chair back about half a space.

"...Mr. Durand, is there a problem?"

"No, no. The foot is a bit numb."

"Oh dear, that's right away lack of exercise! Before becoming a weak old person whose joints ache every day like me when old take care of health diligently!"

Who would dare imagine meeting Nightingale directly in 1901 London?!

Thinking about it Nightingale was the founder of modern nursing, and the nurses at each hospital in current London were somehow connected to her, so even if medical doctor Mr. Doyle has a connection with her there was nothing strange.

"By the way Nurse Flo, I came to receive the letter you said."

"Ah, today is exactly that day!"

"Yes, I promised to meet Colonel Ludwig at St. Thomas' Hospital. It will be a big help to today's event."

"Always thank you. I also want to go out and give a scolding directly, but now without a wheelchair it's hard to move even inside the house."

"No. Just seeing the healthy appearance the heart is at ease."

"Wait a moment, I'll bring the letter soon."

That day? Event? St. Thomas' Hospital?

I floated a question mark in my head and tried to chase the conversation of the two, but with no background knowledge at all understanding was absolutely impossible.

So with eyes I just continued chasing only cats.

The guys without norigae what was so good they hit and played among themselves, and soon one guy fearlessly jumped up on my knee.

Meow!

"Eek!"

This guy! If crying cry meow! Are you protesting to me saying you're a British cat now?!

"You want me to pet? Huh? This guy, would I the lord of all things dare listen to your lowly command?"

Pet pet.

The fur was very soft. There were many stray cats in London, but ones like this guy that approach first tamed by human hands were extremely rare.

London's cats were mostly no different from stray dogs. I heard the talk that politicians startled by the invasion of wild rats in Paris France recklessly released cats as natural enemies, and about half of that became wild.

What breed is it? Maine Coon? Turkish Angora? Anyway it was certain it grew receiving tremendous love usually.

While fiddling with the cat for a long time, I felt Mr. Doyle staring at me.

"...Mr. Doyle, is there a problem?"

"No, because you're doing that you look exactly like the original age. This appearance is the first. Did you originally like animals?"

"Not at all!"

"Right now words and actions are completely different. Well, that's your charm."

"You're saying rude words, Mr. Holmes."

"Hahahat!"

While we two were exchanging such idle conversation, Nurse Flo pushed the wheelchair and entered the reception room again.

"Are you thinking of leaving right away, Conan?"

"Yes, sorry for suddenly visiting. Rest comfortably."

"Oh dear, still sending right away without even treating one cup of tea like this this person's face doesn't stand! It's still early but, how about treating a simple lunch?"

The last question was toward me.

But Mr. Doyle desperately sent signals blinking eyes so Nurse Flo couldn't see.

Looking it was Morse code.

Re.ject. he said?

In heart I also wanted to leave soon. But as one who lived in the Eastern country of courtesy I absolutely couldn't refuse.

No it's a meal that Nightingale gives!

If picking 50 great people who shone the world in Korea she's a regular who always ranks!

The fact that I flinched for a moment hearing her name was, because of childhood memory slight PTSD came so it was, not that I dislike her achievements.

Nightingale is a respected person even in current era Britain.

Now she doesn't frequently appear in newspapers, but the influence she exerted was still tremendous.

But I don't know why such a great person is living in such a shabby house.

She would have received quite a pension from the government too, surely she donated all?

"A young man with kind and soft heart! This is the first person Mary follows this well. Wait a moment. I'll tell to prepare soon."

Nurse Flo disappeared like the wind again.

Then Mr. Doyle sighed lowly and said.

"Mr. Durand, you'll regret."

"Yes...?"

"As repayment for accompanying I was going to treat really delicious Indian cooking for today's lunch... You just blew away half the opportunity."

"...Is it that severe?"

Why are you scaring from the beginning?! Isn't it just ordinary home-style?

No matter how Florence Nightingale is British... Right?

Surely she wouldn't give rye bread with Golden Syrup to guests? In the worst case it would be sardine pie.

And sardine pie if covering the nose and eating was somehow edible. In the end the fishy smell is the problem.

Of course sardine pie didn't come out. Even now sardine pie is treated as monster dish only Cornwall origin eat so unless receiving a meal invitation to a Cornwall person's house it was hard to see.

Anyway if only looking at the level of cooking, it was a level that exactly matched her frugality.

Meat pie with minced pork in, pea soup made with mashed peas, and oatmeal porridge boiled with oatmeal and milk.

A few dried fruits and white bread, blueberry jam and peanut butter with a bread knife placed so one can spread.

Not a meal of a very poor family, but real ordinary London home-style that if a house with somewhat stable income one can commonly eat.

"Does it suit the taste? Lena prepared very carefully."

"Yes... Haha, it's delicious. Full of hand taste."

I met eyes with Mr. Doyle. He just closed his eyes.

And I also understood his feelings.

Until last year to me this would have felt like very delicious London cooking.

But whether because the taste has become too high-end in the meantime, now the feeling was completely different.

It wasn't that the taste was bad.

Just... Overall it was bland.

There was no enjoyment of eating at all.

That was all.

###

What was the problem?

Is it my fault for being too accustomed to stimulating tastes in the meantime?

Is MSG already missed?

Then Mr. Doyle also shouldn't have had the same impression as me.

Because he also felt this food wasn't good he reacted like that.

They really prepared carefully.

Decoration was also somewhat cared, and tableware was cleanly prepared matching noble meal etiquette.

But the taste was actually uninteresting.

Was the recipe the problem?

Lack of sugar and salt was also that, and not even attempting to catch fishy smell or gamey smell was felt.

It might not be good for health, but if fat taste is missing from food it's hard to feel flavor.

Especially meat pie completely removed fat like devout Puritan food, so when putting in the mouth and chewing it was too stiff.

Ah, I roughly know the problem.

Overall the food was too dry and stuffy.

Even though it was a time when meat was precious, among foreign immigrants there were many people who disliked British roast beef, and the words they consistently said were.

British meat is too stiff so hard to chew.

In my thought, the same problem is similarly spread throughout British home-style.

And even if trying to correct that one doesn't even know what the problem is oneself so there's no development either.

Because always eating only such things whether nobles or commoners without exception they don't have resistance to my Chicken and Chips, samgyeopsal, grilled eel etc. and rush madly, right?

I was also thinking whether I should publish a cooking guide for Britons like Mr. Escoffier.

"We've arrived, teachers. It's St. Thomas' Hospital!"

The coachman's loud voice broke my thoughts.

On the way I interrogated Mr. Doyle and definitely heard the destination.

The 2nd Boer War that has already continued for several years in South Africa.

And Mr. Doyle and this war were not unrelated at all.

Mr. Doyle wrote dozens of contributions supporting the Boer War, and even participated as a military doctor. Clearly there was a desperate heart wishing Britain would win the war.

But behind that wish there clearly existed a more personal reason.

It was wishing the safe return of his only younger brother who was forcibly participated as an officer in this war.

However after seeing the miserable reality of the battlefield and soldiers crying in pain from injuries his thoughts seemed to have changed a lot in the meantime.

Those who returned injured didn't only experience physical damage. There were too many who participated soaked in patriotism, and returned carrying unerasable wounds and disabilities.

He felt strong regret and responsibility exactly in that part.

And in pre-modern society Britain there was almost no welfare system for such disabled soldiers.

At least Nightingale stepped forward and insisted on improving the welfare of disabled soldiers and donated her property, and established a foundation and was helping treat wounded soldiers, but without government support it was a severely insufficient situation.

So Arthur Conan Doyle decided to establish a treatment fee support foundation for disabled soldiers together with like-minded people, and write a new Holmes novel and donate all that profit.

The fact that he held the pen that didn't move for ten years was, in fact not because of His Majesty Edward VII or Chairman Balfour or mother's urging that talk.

Today was the day a meeting with celebrities for the launch of that foundation was scheduled. The letter received from Nurse Flo was also exactly that support declaration.

But why on earth did he drag even me? I have nothing to do with this war?!

So I asked and Mr. Doyle's answer was quite spectacular.

'Haha, according to what I heard here and there, Mr. Durand also has a lot of interest in charity work for orphanages or poor people. If you have a plan to establish a similar foundation sometime, please refer. If you have a plan to build a political career sometime later such foundation activities will be a big help.'

That is, Mr. Doyle is saying he'll give me apprentice education (OJT, On-the-job-training) on how to establish a welfare foundation now?!

There was a very little thought that if I earn tremendous money and have overflowing leisure sometime I'll try welfare work.

Absolutely not right now, when the time I'm drawn sometime!

The era being the era such welfare work has tremendously good efficiency in washing a good image. Even the Earl of Derby was doing charity work they say?

In modern times if donating there were many people who put on colored glasses and looked, but now because there are so many poor people if saying one donates anyone claps the era. That much there were also many bad guys who exploit people that sound.

Of course now I'm lazy so I dislike. If the Nutella business succeeds then I'll think about it next.

Anyway still hearing Mr. Doyle's explanation I had no choice but to follow for now.

"Ah, we've already arrived. Is this close?"

"Well, it only took 20 minutes."

St. Thomas' Hospital.

It's a famous place. It was an era with many quack doctors, but here at least kept the basics.

There was also the first nursing school Nightingale established, and according to Mr. Doyle's words they gathered several donors and even expanded a dedicated facility for treating Boer War wounded, so it could be called the cradle of white coats.

Not only that continuous volunteer treatment for poor laborers was done, and as a medical education institution it also built reputation, so it was a place that wouldn't be strange even if said the only conscience remaining in London.

If saying the topic of 19th century medicine, by far hygiene.

Because germ theory widely spread, and the importance of hygiene in surgical operations and hospital management was emphasized the foundation of modern medicine was laid.

Nurse Flo actively utilized statistics and revealed the correlation between infectious disease mortality and hygiene state, and proved that hospital cleanliness speeds up treatment and thoroughly emphasized hygiene.

That result was the indiscriminate white of St. Thomas' Hospital.

White clothes, white sheets, white curtains, white wallpaper, white pillars, white flowers, white hats...

And in that white a man wearing pitch-black British navy formal uniform that doesn't match at all was standing.

Contrast of white and black. That is it stood out more.

But it seemed not only that side that immediately stood out to the eyes.

He saw Mr. Doyle who got off the carriage and his face brightened and he walked quickly.

"Long time no see, Mr. Doyle!"

"Nice to meet you, Colonel Ludwig!"

He was a middle-aged man who was very tall, and ruthlessly grew brown mustache and beard.

Just looking at the beard it looked to the point of seeming like royal family origin somewhere in Germany.

In this era I also belonged to a quite slender side, but he looked about half a span taller than even such me.

But he suddenly sent a puzzled gaze toward my side.

"But this side...? A handsome young man with a quite familiar appearance somehow. Have we met somewhere?"

No what before even self-introduction people all see only me and say the face is familiar?! How many times is it already today?

Is my face plastered somewhere on a wanted poster?!