by Paul Kelly
“Yes Willie. You did have it, Son ... but it was a long, long time ago. It was when you were three. Just a wee bairn and you got through it alright without any further complications, so you don’t have to worry about that.”
***
Willie went to bed that night, dreaming of far-away-lands and of beautiful exotic, dusky maidens and Charlie came to his room to enquire how he got on at the medical and he laughed when Willie told him about the pretty nurse and the capers with his shirt.
“I hope you gave her a treat, Willie and showed her yer bandy legs did ye?”
“Well they’re almost as brown as yours now Charlie boy Look!”
Willie pulled the sheets back and kicked his legs in the air.
“Aye ... Yer comin’ on. You’ll soon be able to wear the kilt, I shouldn’t wonder.”
Willie laughed as he stroked his tanned and ruddy legs.
“I’d rather have those sexy sailor’s trousers any day. They show what you’ve got, somethin’ rotten and the lassies canny keep their eyes off.”
“Aye Aye, Sir,” Charlie saluted and pinched his brother’s bum ...
“Don’t forget to tell all those women that you have a handsome brother at home, who is only too willing to help them out in an emergency.” Charlie roared with laughter as he left Willie’s bedroom.
***
Two weeks later, a letter arrived from the barracks and Willie had been refused entry into His Majesties Forces, due to an incomplete diagnosis of heart murmuring. He was advised he could ask for a second medical, if he wasn’t satisfied, but his whole world had fallen apart.
“Don’t feel so bad, Willie. All these things are meant for the best,” Mary assured him as he went upstairs with the letter clutched in his hand and threw himself across the bed.
Chapter Forty-Nine
“Hello Sadie ... I thought it was you I could see at the back of the bus queue,”
Tom had circled around the queue in his car to be sure it was Sadie as she looked different somehow and he didn’t want to sound his horn if it was a total stranger. God knows what Mary would think of that.
Sadie looked away. It was as if she didn’t want to know him, but he called to her again.
“Sadie, Sadie ... Let me give you a lift ... please.” Reluctantly she left the others who were waiting for the bus and joined him. “I’m going home, but I’d be pleased to drop you anywhere you want to go. Mary will be delighted that I saw you. We haven’t heard from you for over a week.”
She sat still in Tom’s car with her headscarf tied loosely around her head and as he put out his hand to touch her, she flinched and her body tightened as she sat beside him.
“Sadie ... Sadie, what’s the matter Love. It’s me ...Tom.”
Sadie turned slowly to face him and removed her headscarf.
“Oh! My God! What has happened to you?”
Sadie began to cry. Her head was thickly bandaged and the right side of her cheek was swollen and dark. She looked at Tom with fear in her eyes.
“For God’s sake Tom, please don’t tell Mammy about this ... please,” she gasped, but Tom patted her hand affectionately as he began to drive away.
“I’m going to take you to tea somewhere nice and we can have a good talk,” he said, as he drove on without looking at her.
“No Tom ... Please, I don’t want anyone to see me like this,” she muttered, but he continued to drive in silence for some little way and then he stopped at a cafe where he left Sadie in the car before he went inside and ordered some tea and scones, to take away . The waitress looked at him in surprise.
“TO TAKE AWAY?” she enquired, “Why ever should you do that. You can have tea and scones here in the cafe, surely like everyone else.”
Tom removed his gloves.
“But I’m not everyone else,” he snapped and I have someone waiting for me in my car, just outside the door. Now that friend does not want to come in here, so will you serve me as I ask, or do I have to go elsewhere?”
The waitress gaped at him, wide mouthed and swallowed hard.
“Tea and scones, coming up ...to take away,” she murmured and Tom returned to Sadie with his tray.
“There’s no sugar, Love ... the rationing, you know and the scones are made with brown flour.” He looked at Sadie sadly with his apology, but she dried her eyes and smiled.
“Thanks Tom. You are kind.” Sadie looked deeply into Tom’s eyes, “Mammy is so lucky,” she said.
“Never mind that young lady. Now please tell me what has happened to you?”
Sadie looked despairingly through the windscreen as she nibbled a scone.
“It’s just a domestic problem, Tom ...Nothing I can’t handle,” she said softly but Tom looked long and hard into Sadie’s face and remembered the vivacious young girl, she had once been. He could see again the lovely young thing with the heavy lipstick; with the broadest of smiles and the blackest of eye make-up and he had thought how funny she had looked at that time, but there was always a certain innocence about her which made up for all the appearances of the ‘tart’, she made herself out to be. Sadie had always been an extremist ... Mary was right about her.
“Is there anything at all I can do Sadie? ...Anything? You know I will help if I can.”
Tom could feel an anger welling up within him as he spoke. He knew that Robert was involved in this, but he did not want to embarrass Sadie any more than he needed.
“I’ll be alright, Tom. Really I will. I’m ... I’m getting used to it.”
He took her hand in his and rubbed her fingers gently and for a moment he was looking, not into Sadie’s eyes, but Mary’s. He took a twenty pound note from his wallet and pressed it into her coat pocket.
“No, Tom ...No.”
“Yes Sadie Yes, yes, yes “ he went on “Get yourself something nice and a wee something for Fiona, if you have enough left and if not, let me know. Mary and I will be sending a parcel to you all soon.” He checked that he had her correct address from a slip of paper in his wallet, but Sadie put her hand over his.
“No Tom ... We don’t live there any more. Robert is out of work and we have a room in a house off Ward Street. I’ll give you the address.”
“Better still I’ll take you there now in the car, Sadie.
She looked troubled when he suggested that to her.
“Well, just drop me at the end of the street if you don’t mind, Tom. I think that would be best.”
He took her ‘home’ and dropped her where she wanted to get off, but he could see the dilapidated houses as she walked away from the car. He wanted to call her back and take her home to Mary with him and he would have done if Fiona had been with her. Sadie looked back and waved. Her headscarf was in place again, but her step was heavy and reluctant, despite the fact that she had assured him she was alright. He felt sorry that he had promised her that he would not tell Mary of the incident and hoped for some way that he could retract his allegiance and help her to get this matter resolved, as he drove home with a heavy heart.
Mary greeted him as usual when he went into the house, but her inner sense told her that something just wasn’t quite right.
“Are you alright, Tom? You look a wee bit under the weather.” she said calmly and he took her in his arms and cuddled her warmly.
“I’m alright, my Love but I met a friend today who is having rather a hard time and I thought of how happy I am, in comparison.”
“Isn’t there something we could do to help him?” Mary enquired, presuming it to be a male friend of her husband a business associate, perhaps, although she did not ask.
“I think a few of your good prayers might not go amiss, my Darling,” he sighed and Mary kissed him.
“Come and have some tea, Love. I’ve just baked some scones, but its brown flour I’m afraid. I c
ouldn’t get any white this morning with the rationing again.”
Tom looked at his hands and his eyes clouded over with a sadness that would not leave him.
“Brown flour is just fine, Sweetheart .Just fine,” he said.
Chapter Fifty
An ambulance clanged its urgent way along the roads in speed to the hospital as the red, angry sun battled with the hard, diamond frost on the pavements. It was a cold and very bright day. People glanced in curiosity as the siren got louder as it passed then in the street before it faded into the distance and they knew that some poor soul was being rushed into casualty.
***
The ambulance men swiftly jumped from the cab and ran round to open the large doors at the back.
“Careful ... Steady there. Move him slowly.”
The patient groaned and a pair of dusty boots peeped out from under the stretcher blanket as the men carried the patient into the hospital with great care and the nursing staff in the Receiving Room moved as one to the scene.
“Bring him in here, please?”
The patient was carried through a narrow corridor into a brightly lit room where medical apparatus was visible everywhere. Awesome and incomprehensive in its importance and the patient was transferred to a small bed on wheels in the centre of the room where the stretcher poles were withdrawn and taken away by the ambulance crew. A young nurse removed the blankets from the man and prepared to undress him. He groaned continuously as she tried to remove his arms carefully from his shirt.
“No time for that Nurse. Cut it from him quickly.”
The senior nurse called out with a more apt approach to the casualties that came to her department. Bleepers were sounding and a grey-haired, white coated man appeared from nowhere; his stethoscope dangling aimlessly around his neck. He took over the situation and the nurses stood aside his stethoscope no longer aimless.
“Get Mr. Stevenson and prepare Theatre Two, immediately,” he barked.
“Yes Sir.”
Another young doctor joined the scene and began to push his hands down onto the patient’s chest as he called for further assistance.
“Cardiac arrest quickly.”
The senior nurse suddenly appeared out of nowhere with a machine to assist the young doctor and the exercise continued in spasms with great urgency. Soon the older doctor joined them and the trio worked on the man’s chest, trying to resuscitate him. They toiled effortlessly and with confidence in every move, but there was an anxiety in the way they looked at each other, as moments passed moment in silent labour and in Theatre Two the staff stood by.
“Alright, Steve I think we’ve done it.”
The young doctor stood erect and stretched his shoulders as the nurse wiped his brow with a swab.
“Yes, He’s O.K. for the moment. I’ll get along to the theatre immediately. Nurse, will you call Sister Vincent, please?”
“I think she has just gone off duty, Sir.” she replied as the doctor wiped his hands on a huckaback towel the nurse had given him.
“Get her NOW nurse,” he snapped. “I shall be waiting in the theatre. What’s the patient’s name?”
No one answered and the junior nurse ran towards the Reception desk.
“WHAT’S THE PATIENT’S NAME?” he demanded again, shouting towards the nurse in Reception who was talking to the companion of the man who had been brought in.
“What’s your friend’s name?” she asked nervously and impatiently, but before he could answer, the Reception Clerk pushed a pink card into the nurse’s hand.
“All the details are there,” she whispered. “I had gathered the information whilst he was being examined.”
The nurse raced back to the Surgeon with her information
***
Mary and Tom were alerted by the police and made their way speedily to the hospital. When they arrived, the Receptionist showed them into a waiting room where the senior nurse came forward to greet them.
“Is my son alright? ...” Mary almost choked on her words as she gabbled them in her excitement to the nurse who was standing beside her and Tom held her shaking hands, tenderly.
“He is still in theatre at the moment, Mrs. Blair. Everything is being done I can assure you. Now can I get you a cup of tea?” Mary could not settle. She walked the length of the room several times before Tom made her sit down when the nurse brought the tea and they sat quietly drinking together, even if her cup rattled on her saucer and she smiled at Tom in an effort to appear brave.
“Mary” ... Tom whispered her name softly and widened his eyes as if to encourage her to be courageous and to assure her that he was with her all the way, but his kindness only made her worse and she sobbed.
“I can’t stand this waiting, Tom. I really can’t stand it.”
“Mary ... Charlie will be alright. He’s in good hands. Can I telephone the others? Will you be O.K. if I leave you for a little while?” He did not want to leave her alone, but he knew that he and Mary were the only ones who knew of the accident and the family should be told. Mary winced at the very mention of Charlie’s name in such a place.
“Yes, I’ll be alright, Tom, thanks ... Thanks for everything.”
“My Darling,” he whispered as he kissed her forehead and left the room.
***
Charlie’s bronzed body lay pathetically outlined on the immaculately white theatre table... so gentle, so masculine and with such obvious latent vitality as he lay so still and vulnerable. Young Mr. Stevenson stood elegant and tall at the theatre table; his green apron tied tightly around his slim waist and with only his eyes apparent between his white mask and cap. He held his latex covered hands in the air as if to conduct an orchestra, rather than to perform a life saving operation and waited for the anaesthetist to give him the sign to begin. A rubber tube was inserted into Charlie’s mouth and his head was gently pulled to one side whilst the anaesthetist checked the pulse in his strong neck.
“Sodium Pentothal?” enquired the surgeon and the anaesthetist nodded. Charlie’s saliva regurgitated in the rubber mouth gag and the anaesthetist regulated his oxygen cylinder.
Sister Vincent had been found and summoned to Theatre Two. She stood with her instrument trolley at the ready and handed the surgeon the towels which had already been sterilised in the autoclave.
“Towel clips ...” Stevenson blinked as he spoke and Sister Vincent snapped them into his hands. “Swabs,” he barked and his request readily and speedily obeyed. ... “Scalpel ...”
He made his first quick and accurate incision. “Make sure those swabs are counted, Sister. I don’t want any mishaps.”
“Yes Sir,” the Sister answered but she had already counted her swabs, used and unused and she knew the drill as she nodded for the nurse to hang the bloody swabs on the marker board. They would the more readily be counted from there.
“Sister, I’d like a copper malleable retractor...”
Sister Vincent handed him the old fashioned instrument which she knew he always used, but she fingered the self retaining retractor with her gloved hand in readiness for the next command. He took the former and inspected the incision he had so neatly made and swabbed it carefully as he did so, but before he could ask for the next instrument, Sister Vincent had it in her hand. She was able to follow his craft as he moved, since she had assisted him so many times in his operations and his skill was always perfect. She could read his mind in what he required and he would never perform an operation without her and would never work with any other Sister in the hospital if he could possible avoid doing so. Mr. Stevenson and Sister Vincent worked so closely together and with such unison and mental contact that it was something quite mystical to watch. Very often they would hardly speak as instrument followed instrument from her hand to his. She called for his brow to be swabbed when she saw it was necessary and had her timing off t
o a fine art. Doctor Stevenson worked on Charlie for over four hours during which time he had changed his theatre gloves three times.
“Damn it Get a nurse to pick that bloody thing up,” he commanded as he kicked a pair of Spencer Wells artery forceps from under his feet, which he had dropped accidentally.
“Be sure to count it nurse,” he added with his usual precision and accuracy.
***
Eventually he slipped the mask from his mouth and removed his cap. The operation had been completed and the assistant surgeon was suturing the wound as Sister Vincent bound Charlie’s body with strapping before she turned to the anaesthetist.
“Alright?” she enquired and he nodded.
“I’ll leave the mouth gag in until we get him to the ward. Put a kidney dish on the trolley nurse will you please?”
Gloves were snapped away from hands and instruments scooped into a dish for scrubbing and re-sterilisation, ready for further use when required and Theatre Two was closed, to be scrubbed down ready for the next patient and Charlie Blair was wheeled off to the surgical ward.
***
Aggie and Mary sat quietly as Sadie came into the waiting room. She looked thinner than they had expected she would, but her head had healed and her hair covered most of the ‘damage’ Her cheeks were well camouflaged with thick make up but that is what they expected and no questions were asked, however Tom watched her with interest and with a secret that he alone shared and which he would guard with true loyalty.
“I wish Willie was here,” sighed Mary as she tried to look out of the high window but could see nothing but the sky.
“I sent round to the Site for him,” said Aggie, biting her lips nervously as she spoke and Tom looked at his watch.
“If he’s not here by four-thirty, I’ll go and fetch him,” he added but as he spoke, the waiting room doors opened and Willie appeared, wide eyed and excited. He had gone to fetch Rachael who was standing, wide-eyed and confused beside him. Aggie felt guilty when their eyes met. She had forgotten about Rachael in their anxiety, but Mary went towards her and took her in her arms.
