Sister should have gone off at four that afternoon. It was Robert’s free week-end. He had worked through the last two, I guessed to get his in line with hers. He came up to Observation at five to say he was off and one Mark Francis was taking over his job for the week-end.
‘Who’s Mark Francis? Don’t know the name. Should I?’
He shrugged. ‘He’s about two years behind me. He’s just come back from doing eyes. I think Muir’ll keep him on as a permanent J.R. (Junior Registrar) when Joe Yates gets back.’
I had forgotten Joe Yates. ‘What’s happening to him? He can’t still be in Jude?’
‘On holiday plus sick leave.’ He looked over my head. ‘Sister still here? Excuse me ‒’
‘Sure. Have a good week-end.’
He did not hear. He was already half-way to the duty-room.
I expected, and hoped, he would take Wardell off with him, but she was still in the ward when she sent me to early supper.
Harriet raised her eyebrows. ‘Why aren’t you eating with the upper classes? Aren’t you Sister Observation this week-end?’
‘On paper. Wardell is still with us.’ I took the empty chair by her. ‘Haven’t seen you in days! How’s life? And Stan Peabody?’
She said that life was dreamy and Stan was a dish. He seemed also to be as great a talker as herself. She knew all the news of Nick. ‘Stan gets it from Peter Graveny. So the golden boy is settling for the country life chez Sister Mary? No wonder you’re so keen on that cottage! When are they throwing Nick out?’
‘He doesn’t know yet. Any moment. Marcus Stock’ll probably blow in and say “Out!” You know what pundits are like.’
‘Stock? Is he a chubby cutie with lots of white hair and a young face?’
‘Yes. Why? See him in Wylden on your scooter?’
‘No. But I noticed a strange pundit-type walking through Cas once or twice. I see him quite often now. Is he a chum of Sabby Wardell? He was on the terrace with her the other morning.’
‘You did? Of course! She and Jill are on the same set, and Jill remembered him when he was here.’
‘You think that’s all? Oh, no! I was so hoping we had a nice new juicy romance in our midst!’
I said dryly, ‘Hey! I thought you liked Robert Gordon? Why so anxious to do him dirt?’
‘It’s because I like Robbie, dear! He’s far too nice for that human iceberg! And talking of Robbie, I have one large bone to pick with you, you old meanie! Why have you been holding out on me about him? Peter Graveny says you must have known he was Norris’s godson as you hollered for him there for Nick! I suppose Hurricane Jill told you! You might have told me!’
‘I couldn’t. I only heard accidentally, and promised him I wouldn’t spread it. I’ll bet he won’t like Peter passing it round. Do keep it dark, Harriet, please!’
She stared. ‘Whence this new concern for Robbie’s feelings?’ Then she laughed. ‘I get it! There’s nothing like the knowledge of all that lovely lolly in the background to open a girl’s eyes to a man’s charms!’
‘Harriet, that’s rubbish, and you know it!’ I snapped. ‘I never could stick Robert, and I still can’t! But he was very good about Nick, and for that I must be grateful.’
‘Very touching, dear. Very, very touching!’ She was still laughing. ‘This is going to kill Stan.’
As to say more would make things worse, I kept quiet, and was very relieved when one of the other girls asked Harriet some question about Casualty. I left the meal early and fumed equally at myself and Harriet’s chatty tongue all the way back to Observation. I knew very well my rash words were going to give the housemen’s sitting-room a good laugh tonight. Instead of now being able to dismiss it as something Robert had coming to him, it had me irritated and more than a little ashamed. Of course it would get back to him, and embroidered, which seemed very hard after he had drunk all that stewed tea and mentally held my hand that Friday evening. Unless I was much mistaken our new beautiful friendship was going to have died the death by Monday morning. Not that it was all that important, I told myself with rather unnecessary frequency, but I just wished it had not happened.
I reached our landing to find Vint again waiting for me. This time she had Mrs. Sands with her. Mr. Sands had not arrived, and his wife was worried.
‘Dad could have dropped off, duck, but it’s not like him. He may be poorly. He’s not young, mind. I feel as I ought to get home to see after him, but I don’t like leaving the boy.’ She sighed. ‘There’s times it’s hard to know what’s best, duck. What’ll I do, Nurse Rowe?’
Vint, standing a little behind her, mouthed, ‘No change.’ Aloud, she said, ‘Sister Observation is with Sir Julius in Twenty-one.’
That made the decision mine. I suggested Mrs. Sands should change out of her gown while I got into mine and had another look at Frank. ‘I expect he’s settled for the night,’ I said euphemistically. ‘I’ll come straight along to the flat if I think you should stay. How long will you be?’
‘Only an hour, duck, if his dad can’t come up. I left him his tea all ready to heat this morning like as I always do. If he’s been kept late down the docks he’ll just have to put a match to the oven, and he’ll be up soon as he’s ate and had his wash. But it’s not like Dad to be late for the boy,’ she said again. ‘I tell you, Nurse Rowe, I been fretting. I knew as you’d know what I should do.’ She smiled as she tugged down her crumpled mask. Her smile was very tired. ‘Tomorrow may be the day, eh?’
She said that every night. On occasions Mr, Sands had given up hope. His wife and Linda refused to contemplate defeat. It had been when Mrs. Sands recognised that in Linda that she had stopped referring to her as ‘that girl’ and changed it to ‘our Linda’.
She was between forty and fifty, but her bulk and anxiety made her look older. She ambled heavily off to the flat like an untidy, overfilled bolster with feet. Frank was not her only child. She had three others, all married, and she seemed to love them all in the same undemanding way. If she had a favourite, from her conversation it was her one daughter who was shortly expecting a second baby after having a difficult time with her first. Mrs. Sands said, ‘I’d like to be with my Joan, duck, but she’s got her husband, and the boy needs me. I don’t like leaving Dad, neither, but he’ll understand. Our Frank’s my boy, and I’m his mum. I’ll be staying long as the doctor says.’
She was not a particularly intelligent woman. She never looked at more than the pictures in a newspaper, or read anything but the royalty features in her favourite magazine, which she called ‘her book’. She was hazy about the Government, had no idea who was Prime Minister, and no interest in finding out. She loved the telly and missed it badly. She never complained, or suggested she had cause for self-pity. She was a simple woman, so she had quite simply rearranged her whole life to sit by her youngest son. She never got in our way or questioned us about his treatment. She would have thought that out of place. We were ‘they’, and ‘they’ knew what ‘they’ were doing. Life was a very uncomplicated affair for Mrs. Sands, which was probably why she had her priorities right.
Chapter Nine
A SUNDAY MORNING IN OBSERVATION
I changed quickly, then went into the empty duty-room and wrote my name, the time, and Frank’s room number on the desk memo pad to show Sister I was back and where she could find me. Then I saw the unstamped envelope addressed to me in Nick’s writing on the blotter. Peter Graveny or Mrs. Blake must have brought it up from Astead. I put it in my dress pocket to read later and hurried on to Room Five.
It was strange in there without Mrs. Sands or Linda knitting in the chair against the wall. Frank lay still and colourless beneath his transparent tent; his closed face was blank as a statue’s.
I checked his pulse, breathing, blood, and oxygen pressure, body and air temperatures, the flow of drops falling through the drip-connection, and general appearance. My results were identical with the check Vint had made fifteen minutes ago. I charted them, studied the various graph
s, then looked down at Frank again, thinking of his mother and Linda, and wondering how such a plain young man could have inspired their kind of love. As I watched him someone dropped a tray in the corridor. I was about to investigate, when I noticed, or thought I noticed, him give a very faint start. I bent closer over his tent. It must have been imagination, but to be sure I took his pulse again, looking at the chart as well as my watch. There was a very slight alteration to the rhythm. It righted itself as I held on, so I let go and clapped my hands hard above his face, then grabbed his wrist. It had altered again. Hearing was the last sense to be affected by any anaesthetic. It could be the first to come back.
I kept my fingers on his pulse for another three minutes. It was no imagination. The rhythm was changing almost imperceptibly, but it was changing. And his breathing was deeper.
I reached for the bell with my free hand and buzzed my team’s private SOS signal. Vint appeared immediately. ‘Something wrong, Nurse?’
‘I’m not sure if it’s right or wrong, but something’s happening. Get Mrs. Sands back, stat. If she’s gone send someone for her ‒ fast. She may be still on her way out. Then ring Mr. Todd and get him here.’
She vanished. The door opened a few seconds later and a junior came in. ‘Sister says she is ready to report to you, Nurse Rowe, and can I take over?’
She was my team’s second-year and too junior for the present situation. ‘Will you apologise to Sister and say I am sorry to keep her waiting, but Frank Sands is growing restive, and I can’t leave him until Nurse Vint returns.’ As I spoke Frank stirred visibly, then moved himself on to his back. She gazed at him transfixed. ‘Tell Sister, please, Nurse.’ I had to prompt.
I was altering Frank’s air temperature in his tent and did not see her shoot off. His pulse was growing much stronger. He gave a little cough as his mother rushed in white-faced, nervously tugging together the back strings of her gown. ‘He’s not been took bad, Nurse? He’s not took a turn for the worse?’ She clutched me. ‘I forgot me mask! Did I ought to fetch one?’
‘Don’t worry about a mask, dear. Just come closer. I don’t think he’s worse.’ I put my free arm round her ample shoulders. ‘You’ll be better without a mask. Just stand by me. That’s it.’
Then she understood. ‘He’s never going to wake up! He’s never ‒ oh, duck! And me nearly gone to see after his dad! Oh, Nurse! Oh, duck! Oh, Gawd!’ Her voice rose to a squeak. ‘He’s a-shiftin hisself! You see, duck? You see?’ Tears poured down her face, and she mopped them with the skirt of her gown. ‘Nurse Rowe, his eyes is opening.’ Her voice was suddenly small and controlled. ‘Like as that Mr. Browne said.’ She pressed her face against the tent. ‘Hallo, son. It’s me. Mum.’
I heard the door open, but did not look round. Henry Todd appeared round the other side of the bed as Frank Sands stared dazedly at his mother’s face. Even with his eyes open his face was blank.
Henry said, ‘Say that again, Mrs. Sands. Louder.’
Before she could say anything her son’s face altered. A faint but coherent smile flickered over his features and lingered in his eyes. He mumbled something I did not catch.
‘What’s he saying?’ Mrs. Sands grasped me again. ‘Did you hear, Nurse? Did you, Doctor? Don’t he know me?’
Henry Todd had crouched down with his ear to the tent. He was not really good-looking, but his smile now made him seem so. ‘He’s recognised you, Mrs. Sands. He said, “Why are you wearing your nightie, Mum?” ’
Over ninety minutes later Robert appeared in the duty-room doorway as I was writing the report on Frank’s altered treatment. ‘Sorry to intrude, but is Sister still up here?’ I beamed at him. Everyone in Observation had been beaming at everyone else since Frank came round. Although our patients were in separate rooms, within minutes the news had spread, and sent a wave of new hope sweeping round the entire ward. As usual, over half our patients were on the D.I.L., and there was the usual little group of other anxious relatives in our flat. ‘Wonderful what they can do these days!’ they told each other. ‘Seventy-three and a half days! And you know what his poor mother said about the state of his head when they carried him in! But he knew her! Knew her at once! Just shows what they can do!’
I told Robert Sister had at last gone off for her week-end half an hour ago. ‘Poor Robert, have you been waiting for her? You driving her down to Astead again? I see you’ve got on a fine suit under that white coat ‒ and very chic it looks!’ Relief and sheer happiness had me rattling on like Nick in top gear. ‘I’m sorry you’ve had this wait, but I’m glad Sister stayed on. When one of my patients does a Lazarus I don’t mind how big the audience!’
He had been watching me from the doorway in mild astonishment. He came in, now smiling widely. ‘That chap in Five? Sands? Round?’
‘He is.’ I gave the details. ‘We have been having a ball,’ I went on. ‘Dad was doing extra overtime and not in his usual dock. I think Sister rang all round the Pool of London before she traced him. Something is not going to get unloaded tonight, as half his mates clocked off to give him moral support, but who cares? You know his girl friend?’
‘Linda, with the long black hair and eyes?’
‘Sounds like the first line of a song, but that’s her! She’s not on the phone. Sister asked the cops for help, and she rang me ten minutes ago. She let out such a yell of joy it’s a wonder my left eardrum hasn’t perforated. Since when,’ I smiled smugly, ‘I have had Mr. Browne himself on the telephone congratulating my team for their nursing.’ He bowed, so I stood up and dropped a curtsy. ‘I have had a few kind words from the Ass Mat on her evening round. She said Matron would be very pleased. Sister Observation is very pleased. Everyone is very pleased. We are everyone’s little blue-eyed girls, and we will all have to make ourselves new caps tonight to fit our new-sized heads!’
He laughed. ‘I see I don’t have to ask how it feels. It obviously feels very good.’
‘What? Being smug?’
‘No.’ He stood in front of the desk looking down at me. ‘The knowledge that you personally are directly responsible for that chap’s being alive to come round. Without great nursing he’d have been a stiff weeks ago. Nice work, Anna. Very nice work.’
I seldom blushed. I did then. ‘Thanks. Thanks very much.’
He was silent. There was nothing unusual about that from him, and normally I should have assumed he had said all he wanted to say, ignored his presence, and got on with my report. This was not a normal night. I said, ‘Robert, you are taking an awful chance being seen in here in that white coat. If you don’t watch out someone’ll make you do some work.’
‘A calculated risk. I had to come up here, and couldn’t do it without the coat. That a new notice?’ He walked over to the board and read the many notices pinned there. ‘Find Nick’s letter?’ he asked, without looking round.
‘Letter? Oh, Lor’! I’d forgotten! Yes, thanks. Did you bring it up?’
‘Yes.’ He was studying the board. ‘I drove down to Astead earlier. Marcus Stock was up here this afternoon, and his car croaked in our park, so I ran him back. I didn’t seem to have anything else to do.’
As Wardell had stayed on, that figured. ‘I wish I’d known!’
He turned slowly, ‘You wanted a message taken to Nick?’
‘Not that. Jill’s off. You could have given her a lift as far as Astead.’
‘I did. We saw her leaving the Home as we were driving out of the gates. That’s how I saw Nick. She suggested we dropped in at the hospital to say hallo.’
That should have worried me. It did not, for myself. I was not so sanguine about Jill. ‘That was nice. How was he?’
‘Fine, as you’ll see from his letter. It’s good news. Stock’s chucking him out tomorrow morning. This is your lucky night.’
‘That’s what it is!’ I heard the lift. ‘That can’t be the night girls?’
He went into the corridor to look. ‘Yes. You’ll want me to push off and let you finish your report.’
<
br /> I had to get that report done, but I was suddenly appalled to discover I did not want him to go. Although Frank was not one of his patients, tonight’s golden satisfaction was something I could share with him, and I wanted to go on doing that more than I wanted to do anything for a very long time. I did not try to understand why that should be. It seemed wiser not to.
Reluctantly I agreed, ‘I must get on. Sorry.’
‘Sorry for interrupting.’
‘Not at all. Thanks for delivering my letter.’
‘No trouble. I’m frequently nipping down to Astead, so any time you want a lift, or something put on the Wylden bus once Nick moves in with Sister Mary, let me know.’
‘Thank you,’ I said, ‘I will.’
Our mutual politeness was as foreign as my unexpected desire for his company. I suspected I owed his side of it to Frank Sands. In general, our men took our work for granted, much as we took theirs, but every now and then, when something like Frank’s recovery happened, just for a little while our doctors realised nursing was a skilled as well as a handy profession and treated us with a new respect. It did not last long. It was fun while it lasted.
Robert was in the doorway. ‘I’ll leave you to it.’
‘Duty calls.’ I smiled, and picked up my pen. ‘Good night. And have a good weekend.’
‘Thank you.’ He stepped back inside the room to let the night staff go by to the changing-room. ‘Too bad Nick isn’t up here to celebrate with you later tonight.’
‘Too bad,’ I echoed untruthfully. I could have explained this was one celebration Nick would have been unable to understand fully, and consequently one I should not have chosen to share with him. I might have explained had he not clearly got a late date with Wardell. ‘Actually, if I am finished in time and Henry Todd can get off for an hour and the pubs are still open, he’s taking me out for a beer.’
A House for Sister Mary Page 15
