She did not want to start thinking of Simon again. She wanted to conquer her infatuation for him, to forget him. Yet, last night she began to think, suppose Suzette was right after all? Suppose—and every time she thought of it her heart lifted unbearably—suppose it was she herself whom he wanted to marry? That he had really meant what he said that night up the Eiffel Tower? Perhaps he had thought it best to wait, at that time, until he had some information about his father. But again she had to remind herself that, though she had assured him that she set no store at all by what his father was, or was not, he had still gone on. And even when he had proved his father’s innocence, it had still made no difference. During that last week in Paris there had been a curious unhappiness underlying his gaiety. Why should that be if he loved her? There were so many things that did not fit with what Suzette and her mother would have her believe. True, he might think she was in love with Roger. She herself had told him in no uncertain terms that she intended accepting Roger’s proposal. Even so, that still did not prove he loved her. And what about Paulette? It was useless to say that she and Simon meant nothing to each other. She had seen them coming out of the jeweler’s with her own eyes, a new ring flashing on Paulette’s finger. Oh, it was hopeless, and she felt sick at heart. Why did Suzette and her mother have to stir up her feelings again. They were just a pair of matchmaking mothers, their assertions based on wishful thinking. If Simon loved her he would have found a way of letting her know. She would be glad when he had gone so that her feeling for Roger could blossom, unhampered, into the full flower of love.
The Salad Bowl was crowded and she looked around for an empty place. Then, just as she was giving up, she saw Debbie and Milly at a table in the far corner, and with them were Roger and Peter. Her first impulse was to turn away but Roger had seen her and was beckoning for her to join them.
“Sit here Angela,” he said putting an extra chair at the table. Debbie eyed her maliciously. “Hello, Angela. Congratulations on your engagement to the handsome Frenchman.”
“Don’t pay any attention to her, Angela,” Roger said quickly. He turned to Debbie. “I thought you said you were going, Debbie?”
“But, Roger,” she protested childishly. “I’m not in a hurry.”
Peter rose. “Come on, Debbie, do as your big brother tells you.” Peter led Debbie, protesting loudly, to the door.
“You shouldn’t have done that, Roger, really,” Angela said.
“Don’t worry, my dear. You have to be firm with someone like Debbie. She’s well used to such treatment and we’ve had quite enough of her for one day. Pete will see her off then come back. How went the day yesterday?”
Angela sighed heavily and wished she could unburden her heart. She sketched briefly the day at Monsal Dale. Milly listened, smiling, then presently excused herself and left them alone together.
Roger rested his hand lightly on Angela’s for a moment. “What was it really like, darling?”
“Very trying, one way and another.” She looked down at her plate. “Simon is leaving England and going back to Paris,” she said tonelessly.
“Oh? What is he going to do?”
“Practise medicine ... and marry Paulette.”
He toyed with a spoon. “That’s odd. I’m thinking of going to Paris to work myself. You remember I said I’d like to live there. I could easily keep up with my work here until I get more. I could send the drawings by mail and fly over when necessary. I wish I’d thought of it before.” There was a pause, then he said, “I’m sorry I got so het up about everything on Monday. I was wrong to be so ... dictatorial, so demanding.” He looked at her searchingly. “You must be feeling pretty bad about LeFeure.”
Pride rose to her aid. “I shall survive. One doesn’t remain broken hearted forever.” She smiled thinly. “Pity you’re going to Paris. I might have been around to tell you I’m cured sooner than you thought.”
He looked at her sharply. “Come with me, Angela. Marry me.”
She caught her breath, then gave a long sigh. “Yes, Roger, I will,” she said quickly.
He grasped her hand. “Darling, that’s wonderful. Here comes Milly. Honestly, if you hadn’t said yes, I was going to ask her. I had decided that half a loaf would be better than none after all. I think Milly would have consented somehow, but as it is, she probably had a narrow escape from a fate worse than death. Good thing Pete isn’t here, all these clichés flying around.”
“What’s going on?” Milly asked as she came back to the table.
“What do you know,” said Roger. “Angela is going to marry me and come to Paris with me.”
A sharp flicker of surprise crossed Milly’s face. “Well, congratulations both of you,” she said in a bright, brittle voice. “I ought to hate you, Angela. I thought he was going to ask me.”
Roger laughed. “Don’t despair, Milly. There’s still old Pete.”
“I take it you’ve broken it off with the doctor first?” Milly said to Angela.
Angela looked at her watch. “I’m afraid I’ll have to leave it to Roger to unravel the mysteries of that for you. I have to be getting back.”
Roger looked at his own watch. “Oh Lord, it’s nearly two. I can’t run you back, darling. I’ve an appointment for two o’clock. You don’t mind? I can’t put the man off. He has come up from London.”
“Of course. I don’t mind. Give me a call.”
Angela went on duty that night feeling rather like someone who has been granted a reprieve. She was going to marry Roger. She need no longer yearn for a love that could never be hers. Roger loved her and she loved him; not quite the same thing she had felt for Simon, but soon that episode would be nothing more than a memory that would no longer have the power to hurt her.
Matron greeted her briefly. “I think you’ll find you’re wanted on George the Sixth, Sister. We had an admission about half an hour ago—a hemophiliac. He needs a blood transfusion. Dr. LeFeure is up there ... and I expect the day staff will want to get off duty. The night nurse is there, of course, but the ward is extra busy. There has been an influx of admissions at the General, so they have filled us up.” She gave Angela an odd look as if she was about to say something else, but changed her mind. “I’ll leave you to get on with it, Sister. Good night.”
Angela glanced quickly down the report, then went upstairs. Screens stood around a bed near the door. Angela gently moved one aside, closing it behind her.
Simon glanced up briefly. “Good evening, Sister.”
“Good evening, doctor.”
She gave a swift glance at the patient’s pale, anxious face, the injured wrist and the pressure pads on the forearm. Because the man’s blood lacked a clotting agent, only prompt treatment would save him from bleeding to death. Her eyes took in the sterile trolley, the transfusion stand with its pint of blood attached to a length of rubber tubing that terminated at the needle Simon was already inserting into the man’s vein. Angela turned to the staff nurse who stood by the bed.
“You can go now, Nurse. I’ll carry on.”
“Thank you, Sister. If you need another splint, you’ll find one ready padded in the linen room.”
“Thank you, Nurse.”
Simon worked in silence and Angela stood by, ready to begin the steady drip of the new citrated blood. He glanced up and nodded, and she turned the screw of the apparatus, allowing the life-saving flow to begin. Simon straightened up and together they silently watched the slow rhythmic drips.
“Will you need the other splint, doctor?” she asked.
“I don’t think so, Sister, In any case, I’ll leave you to use your discretion. You’ll be keeping an eye on the flow for a while, so you can judge for yourself whether or not the patient is likely to be restless.”
He stood for a moment, watching the man’s arm at the point of the needle. Seeing no sign of congestion, he relaxed.
“He’ll be all right now, I think.”
He smiled down at the patient. “Don’t worry and try to sleep.
If you can’t, let Sister know and we’ll give you something.”
He parted the screens and Angela beckoned to the night nurse. “You can move the screens, Nurse, and clear away the trolley. You’d better reset it when you have a spare minute, in case it’s needed again. Keep an eye on the drip. I shall be back later, but if there’s any sign of blockage, let me know immediately.”
She accompanied Simon to the door.
“You needn’t come any farther, Sister, if you’re busy. I’ll come back later when you’ve done the rest of your round.”
When they reached the top of the stairs, Angela’s heart was beating painfully. “I have to go down,” she said. “I’d like to start on the children’s wards.”
“As you like.”
They walked down the stairs in silence, and when they reached the bottom he gave her a brief nod, saying, “I’ll be back about 11,” and went out of the front door.
Angela sighed, then tightened her lips determinedly. She would rid herself of this effect he had on her whatever the cost. She would tell him about her engagement.
She went quickly on her round. Mercifully, the children were all asleep. At the door of Wendy she said to Nurse Hodgson, “Bring my tea just at 11 tonight, please, if you don’t mind. And bring two cups.” She gave what she meant as a conspiratorial smile. “Dr. LeFeure and I have something to talk over and we might as well drink a cup of tea at the same time.”
Nurse Hodgson smiled. “I’ll make a special brew, Sister.” Angela smiled to herself, a rather bitter smile, and went upstairs to visit the adult wards. Happily, the man having the blood transfusion was asleep and the flow was continuing in a steady drip. In spite of that, it was 11 o’clock by the time she had completed the round, and when she reached the office Simon was already there.
“How’s the transfusion going, Sister?” he asked in a cool, professional voice.
“It’s running beautifully and the patient is asleep.”
Nurse Hodgson brought in the tea and went out again. Angela felt her heart beating nervously as she said, “Will you have a cup, Simon?”
He glanced at her swiftly, and for a moment, Angela thought he was going to refuse. Then, with an air of resignation he pulled out his pipe and sat down in a corner chair. He eyed her almost warily as she handed him a cup of tea.
“Have you told Matron you’re leaving?” she asked.
He shook his head. “There’s time enough,” he said shortly.
“I’ll soon be leaving myself,” she said experimentally.
He drew furiously on his pipe. “Yes, I expect you will.”
Angela took a deep breath. “Roger and I—”
Before she could complete the sentence the telephone rang. She picked up the receiver to hear Roger’s voice. Simon got up to go, but she said quickly, “Please don’t go, doctor, I won’t keep you long.”
She must tell him now, she must.
“Hello, darling,” Roger said. “Did you mean what you said this morning? I still can’t believe it. I know you wouldn’t have said yes, though, unless you felt pretty sure ... that you’d get over the other affair.”
“But of course I meant it, Roger. I’m putting the other affair right behind me.”
“That’s wonderful. When can I see you? We must buy the ring and arrange everything.”
“Yes, I ... of course. Will tomorrow do?”
“I’ll pick you up at four-thirty.”
She put down the receiver and turned to Simon who was frowning heavily. But she had no sooner put the instrument down when it rang again. This time it was the nurse on George the Sixth.
“Right, Nurse, I’ll come at once,” she said. “The drip has stopped,” she told Simon. “I must go up.”
“I’ll come up with you,” he said, and in a strained silence they went upstairs together. Personal affairs would have to be shelved.
They went into the dim, silent ward. Most of the patients were asleep. The night nurse was standing at the man’s bedside looking up anxiously at the glass connection now half-filled and no sign of the steady drip. Simon looked at the arm. There was a slight swelling around the area of the needle.
“We’ll have to try the other arm, Sister.”
Quickly, preparations were made and the transfusion stand wheeled to the other side. They worked together in silence, intent now only in introducing the blood the man so desperately needed.
“Just a little more downward massage, Sister. I don’t dare cut down. Ah, that’s better.”
Under Angela’s gentle pressure the vein showed up more prominently and at last the needle was inserted. Very carefully, Angela started the flow again.
“Not too much, Sister,” Simon said. “Yes, that’s right. Now if it only stays like that for an hour or so, he’ll get it all.” He looked down at the man. “Do you think you’ll be able to sleep?”
“I think so, doctor, but I’m not worried whether I do or not. What’s a night’s sleep compared with my life? I’m quite willing to lie here quietly until it’s all in.”
Angela said quickly. “I’ll stay here with him, Doctor. I don’t think he should be left.”
Simon gave her a long look. It somehow didn’t seem right for him to leave her to keep this nightly vigil while he himself slept, but he knew he had his work to do tomorrow.
“Thank you, Sister. I’ll rest easy knowing you are here, but don’t hesitate to call if you need me.”
If I need you, she thought swiftly.
“I won’t,” she answered in a low voice. “Good night, Doctor.” He hesitated as if about to speak again, then turned and left her. Angela took a chair by the bed and sat watching the slow, steady drip.
She was just about to get into bed the next morning when she was called to the telephone.
It was Simon. “I hope I haven’t got you out of bed,” he said, “but my mother has just phoned me to say that she and your mother are coming into town and would like us to meet them for lunch. How do you feel about it?”
“But I don’t understand. Mother knows I usually go straight to bed after my first night back on duty, and she wouldn’t expect me to get up in the middle of the day unless it was urgent. Besides, I’ve arranged to go out to tea. I could put Roger off, I suppose.”
“Oh, I don’t think there’s any need to do that. I told your mother you’d had a busy night. It’s not important; they’re only coming in to do shopping. It’s just that they wanted you to know in case you felt like meeting them. Shall I go and say you can’t make it?”
“If you don’t mind, Simon. I’m sure Mother didn’t really expect me to.”
They hung up and Angela went back to bed, a puzzled frown on her face. That was odd, most unlike her mother. What were they up to, she and Suzette?
To her consternation, the maid forgot to call her in time to meet Roger that evening. It was seven o’clock when she awoke—only just time to have her meal and go on duty. She rang Roger to apologize.
“I’m terribly sorry, Roger. The maid is usually most reliable. I do hope you didn’t wait too long.”
“That’s all right, my dear. I guessed what must have happened, and as you’re usually punctual, I didn’t wait very long. I knew you’d phone me if I wasn’t there to meet you. You must have been extra tired.”
“Yes, I was. I had a busy night. Thank you for being so sweet about it. What about tomorrow?”
“Er ... sorry, darling. Can’t make it tomorrow. I’ll call you. ’Bye.”
In spite of her long sleep Angela felt somehow listless and dispirited. For the first time since she had taken on the post as night sister, she longed for a change.
When Simon came at 11 he seemed unusually thoughtful. Angela asked him if her mother and Suzette had enjoyed their shopping spree.
“Oh yes,” he said. “They sent their love and quite understood that you needed your sleep.” He looked at her oddly and was about to say something when one of the nurses called for her.
“I’m wanted,” she s
aid.
“Do you want me to come with you?”
“No, I can manage. It’s only routine. Mrs. Brown is rather restless and the nurse wants me to check her medicine.” She moved toward the door.
“Just a moment, Angela.” He put out a detaining hand.
“Yes?”
“There’s something I want to talk to you about. Will you come out somewhere to tea with me tomorrow before you go on duty?”
She recoiled inwardly. “Must you?” she asked stiffly. “Is it important?”
He compressed his lips, then said quietly. “Yes, it is.”
“Very well. I’ll be ready at five o’clock.”
She went upstairs to the waiting patient. If only he would leave her alone. If only he would go back to Paris. Her mother and Suzette had been busy in their matchmaking efforts no doubt. But it was too late. She was going to marry Roger. That was one thing they didn’t yet know.
Simon took her to a small place on the edge of the moor where they had tea. Then he suggested that they make the best of what sunshine was left.
“You don’t get a great deal of sun on night duty,” he said. He parked the car and they walked for a while. He seemed reluctant to begin what he wanted to say.
“Well?” she said at last, her heart beating queerly. “And what have our mothers been telling you?”
He glanced at her sharply. “I didn’t know you could be cynical.”
“Perhaps there is a lot you don’t know.”
“There’s one thing I’d like to know. Are you, or are you not, engaged to Roger Cameron?”
“Yes, I am.”
The words came out like the crack of a whip and Simon started as though he had been struck.
He turned. “In that case, there’s no more to be said. Let’s get back.”
Nurse Angela Page 15
