He wrote steadily. The children outside in the ward were very quiet; the only sounds were the ticking of the corridor clock and George’s pen.
My hands were working mechanically, independent of my eyes, so I looked at George’s fair, bent head and thought about Rose, and what Alice had said, and how wrong Alice had been. Alice had a fixation about George and me. She would not understand that I was just someone with whom he passed the time of day ‒ a friendly face in a strange ward. Even housemen can be strangers in the wards.
He glanced up and saw me looking at him. He looked down again quickly. A minute or so later he said, ‘You’ve nearly finished your time here, haven’t you, Maggie?’
‘I’ve got another week. Then I’ve got a week’s holiday. After that it’ll probably be nights again. We’re over-due for another spell.’
‘You’ll be sorry to leave Ed Donell?’
I said, ‘Yes,’ and then said, ‘No.’
He put down his pen. ‘But I thought you liked it here? That it was your pet ward?’
I straightened the row of gauze squares in front of me as I thought. ‘I do, and it is. But it’s beginning to get me down. I can’t take too much of it at one dose.’
‘I don’t follow you.’
‘Well,’ I said slowly, ‘in every other ward in which I’ve worked when I’ve gone off duty I’ve been able to leave my patients behind in the ward.’ (Except with David, I thought, but then he didn’t count as a patient, a routine patient.) ‘Here, in Ed Donell, that doesn’t work. I can’t forget these kids. I take them with me, all the time, wherever I am, whatever I’m doing. And it hurts too much. I know I should be able to take it,’ I said more quickly, ‘and I expect I could if I had to. But, since I’ve not got to, it will be quite a relief to move on for a while. But I’d like to come back again later.’
He nodded. His expression was very kind. He said nothing.
I said, ‘I know I must sound a coward. I can’t help that, even if it’s true, which it probably is.’
He said, ‘I wouldn’t say that was cowardly. It’s sense. If you burn your hand you don’t necessarily shove in the other as well to prove you’re a Spartan.’
‘How do you apply that to me, George?’ I asked shortly.
He shrugged. ‘I don’t. I’m sorry, I was talking out of turn. I won’t do it again, Maggie ‒ and I won’t offer you my shoulder again.’ He smiled. ‘I remember the last time I risked that, and how narrowly I missed being sandbagged for my pains. But, well, is there anything I can do?’
‘You won’t have to stand me a dinner again, thank you, George. I’ve already eaten my way through three courses and coffee to-night.’ I smiled to show that everything was fine and life was a song.
He gathered his forms together. ‘That’s too bad,’ he said lightly.
I said, ‘Not really. It was a nice supper.’
He stood up. ‘That wasn’t precisely what I meant. Good night, Maggie.’
The evenings were dark now. When I left Ed Donell that night I heard a man call my name, and I half recognized a figure coming towards me along the ramp. Then my heart went back to its normal rate as I saw who it was. Alistair Corford was exactly the same height and build as his brother. I knew him slightly, on a purely professional basis. As an elderly second-year I had only just reached that stratum of hospital life in which the Registrars and Senior Residents mixed with the nurses.
‘Good evening, Nurse Howard.’ His voice was not as deep as David’s, but they had the same abrupt way of speaking. Unlike George, who spun out each word as if he had all eternity in which to complete a sentence.
I said, ‘Good evening, Mr Corford.’ I thought he would pass on as he usually did, but he slowed down and stopped in front of me.
‘I’ve been meaning to give you a message from my brother,’ he said; ‘he said you might be interested.’
I said ‘Yes,’ or ‘Naturally,’ or ‘Of course,’ I am not sure which.
He said David was fit enough to return to work. ‘Vanders has given him a clean bill. That leg is as good as new.’
‘That’s wonderful, Mr Corford. I’m so glad. I know how much he wanted to get back.’
‘That’s right.’ He dug his hands into his coat pockets. ‘Mind you, Nurse, it’s going to complicate things.’
‘Is it, Mr Corford?’
He nodded. ‘Ummm. I expect David told you about Clare? Clare Martin?’
I said no, I was surprised to hear how normal my voice sounded.
He said, ‘I expect he did, you’ve forgotten. After all, he was just one in a few hundred patients. How could you possibly remember what he said?’
How indeed?
‘His fiancée?’ I asked.
‘That’s right,’ he said again. ‘They’ve been engaged quite a few years. You know, old friend of the family type of thing. Nice girl. They should get along all right. But of course, this will hold things up.’
‘Why?’ It was becoming a physical effort to listen to him.
‘Well, naturally, old David is dead keen to get back on the job, and equally naturally, Clare wants to get things settled first.’ He grinned. ‘David’s not exactly the domestic type. Some sailors are, some aren’t. Like doctors. Still, I expect it’ll sort itself out. These things generally do.’
‘I expect you’re right, Mr Corford.’
He shook his head. ‘Maybe. But I won’t keep you. Which way are you going, Nurse Howard?’
I said, ‘I thought I would go and see if I had any evening post. Now I don’t think I’ll bother. It’s not important. It can wait until morning.’
We walked down the ramp together. ‘That’s my attitude, too,’ he said, ‘leave everything till the morning. It always looks better that way.’
There was probably a good deal of sense in what he said, but, as far as I was concerned, the thought of Clare Martin in the morning was no more pleasant than it had been the night before.
‘And that,’ I said to Alice, ‘is that.’
‘Could be.’ She sounded uncertain. ‘Only if I was right before ‒ about his being engaged, I mean ‒ there’s no reason why I shouldn’t be right again. That bit about him not wanting to rush into marriage sounds as if I am.’
‘Alice. Do you really think so?’
She shook her head helplessly. ‘Maggie, why do you have to be so faithful? Yes, all right, I do. I don’t want to raise your silly hopes, but I had better be honest. I think your ruddy David has discovered he’s in a wicked mess and doesn’t know what to do about it, so he’s taking the easiest way out.’
‘That is?’
‘Doing nothing. Stalling.’
It was so much what I wanted to hear that I forgave her for calling David harsh names.
‘What I don’t get,’ I said, ‘is why Alistair Corford suddenly decided to unburden to me.’
Alice said she thought he must have been in a chatty frame of mind and I was handy. ‘Also, now we are reaching the heights, we are becoming worthy of his notice.’
I laughed. ‘I still get a shock when I hear a junior “Nurse Howard-ing” me and putting her hands behind her back.’
Alice giggled. ‘Me too.’ We were still laughing when Rose came into the sitting-room in which we had been alone.
‘I’ve been looking for you girls. We must have a natter about next week’s dance. Home Sister’s flapping because it’s our set’s turn to be hostesses. Who are we going to invite?’
‘I’ll be on holiday,’ I said; ‘you and Alice will have to fight it out with the other girls.’
Rose said that was too bad. ‘I had forgotten your holiday. I was hoping you would suggest Alistair Corford.’
‘Why him?’ Alice and I spoke together.
‘I hear he came to escort you off duty last night,’ said Rose.
‘Rose. It’s the first time I’ve ever talked to the man about anything other than to-morrow’s ops! The speed at which gossip travels in this hospital is quite phenomenal.’
&nb
sp; Home Sister opened the sitting-room door. ‘Nurse Fell, your laundry-list is missing.’
Alice went out with her, and Rose and I sat down again. Rose said, ‘Maggie, would it bother you if I asked George to that dance?’
I was getting very put out over this business of my having proprietary rights to George Hartigan. ‘I’d love it if you’d ask him,’ I said firmly; ‘at least it would scotch one particular piece of gossip.’
She coloured faintly, then smiled. ‘You really do mean that you couldn’t care less?’
‘Rose, my love,’ I said, ‘how right you are.’
George telephoned me after supper on the evening before my holiday. ‘You pushing off early in the morning, Maggie?’
I had not seen him in the ward that day. I did not know that he knew the date of my holiday and said so.
‘Rose told me,’ he said laconically.
‘And you rang to say good-bye. That was nice of you, George.’
He said it was not nice of him at all. He had an ulterior motive.
‘I can get off for a couple of hours, now. I wondered if you would care to come across the river and join me in a cup of coffee and the inevitable macaroon? I couldn’t fix things to finish earlier, or I would have suggested dinner.’
I was about to refuse, to say I still had packing to do, which was true, when I changed my mind. There was something I wanted to talk to George about, and this was as good a time as any.
‘That’s grand, Maggie. Shall I come over for you at once?’
‘Do that,’ I said, ‘and thanks, George.’
We walked to the nearest all-night cafe. It was only just on ten, but there are few places ready to welcome you if you only want coffee at that hour in London.
George sat facing the light ‒ it showed up the long lines in his cheeks and the dark patches under his eyes. I thought I had never seen George look so tired.
I said, ‘George, you’re worn out. You need a holiday yourself.’
He smiled. ‘No holiday until after my big date.’ I watched fascinated at the sight of George blushing.
‘What big date? Do tell me.’
He played with his coffee spoon, then looked up, saw I was gaping openly, and grinned, ‘O.K., Maggie ‒ I’m scared! With reason. I’m having a private shot at Membership.’
‘But, George ‒ I thought you had to wait two years, unless you got honours? Or did you get them? You never told me.’
His mouth turned down. ‘You never asked me, Maggie. Yes, I did, by some miracle. Now I’m dead scared, because if I fail ‒ which is all too likely ‒ then I’ve had my chips at Benedict’s. My boss obviously won’t want me as his surgical stooge when he thinks I’m pining to specialize in medicine. It’s a gamble, but there’s really no option. Without Membership I haven’t the ghost of a chance of pulling out of surgery.’
I said, ‘I wouldn’t have said you were the gambling type, George. But go on. What are you aiming for? The neat brass plate in Harley Street? Is that why you want to climb the medical ladder?’
‘No. That’s about the last reason. I just want to get Membership, and then somehow wangle a job as Medical Registrar here, before I breeze off into G.P.-ing. I’m not the Big Doctor calibre ‒ anything but. Also I’m totally lacking in either the desire or capacity to lecture to the chaps. I merely want to pick up a spot more medicine before I’m let loose on the unsuspecting British public.’
‘That’s what you want to do with your life.’ I wasn’t asking a question, I was stating a fact. I was interested in this new side to George. Until now I had always considered him a vague, pleasant person, with nothing definite about him but the colour of his eyes. There was nothing vague about the man sitting opposite me at the table at that moment.
He said slowly, ‘That among other things.’
This was my opening. This was the perfect opportunity to say what I wanted to say to him. I was uncertain how to begin, so I rushed in like the proverbial bull in the china-shop. ‘G.P.’s have to be married, George.’
His face was expressionless. ‘It’s usual, Maggie, but not compulsory.’
I hoped he would go on and give me another lead; he said no more, so I started again. ‘George, there is something …’
‘Yes, Maggie?’ His voice was polite, but as blank as his expression.
‘I don’t quite know how to say it.’
He said, ‘Just say it, and damn the consequences. What’s on your mind, Maggie?’
I said, ‘Rose.’
‘What about Rose?’
‘Well ‒ Rose is a friend of mine.’
He nodded. ‘I know that. And you are a friend of hers. All very nice.’
‘That’s it,’ I said desperately. ‘Don’t you see?’
‘I expect I’m very dense,’ he said, ‘but no. I don’t.’
‘Oh, George. At least you must know how people gossip in hospital?’ He nodded again. ‘And you know how I’ve only been out with you a couple of times?’
‘Only once,’ he corrected, ‘before to-night.’
‘But they don’t realize that.’
He smiled as he lit a cigarette. ‘And you think our names are irrevocably linked?’
‘George, don’t fool! You understand quite well what I mean, and how stupid it all is. But it’s worrying Rose, and I hate it worrying Rose, who is a perfect sweetie, and terrified of hurting people.’
‘So you want me to explain to Rose that all that exists between you and me is a beautiful professional relationship?’
I said, ‘She might believe it from you.’
‘So you’ve already told her?’
‘More or less.’
‘I see.’ He stubbed out his quarter-smoked cigarette. ‘I appreciate your efforts on behalf of your little friend, Maggie, but I think I ought to warn you. Match-making is a dangerous business. Perhaps I also ought to throw in here, that I’m quite happy at the prospect of being a single G.P.’
Now, I was talking to a stranger. I said quickly, ‘I’m sorry if I’ve offended you, George. Truly, I didn’t mean and wouldn’t want to do that.’
He smiled. ‘I realize that, Maggie.’
I said, ‘You see, as I don’t know how you feel about all this, or rather, as I didn’t know, I was a bit afraid that you might have been worried in the same way as Rose.’
‘Was that why you came out with me to-night? Deus ex machina?’
‘More or less,’ I said again. ‘I still haven’t packed.’
‘Thank you, Maggie,’ he said gravely; ‘I do appreciate this ‒ as I said. Maybe you’re right. Maybe Rose and I have a certain amount in common.’
‘Then that’s settled.’ I beamed with relief. ‘I’m so glad we’ve got it straight.’
He said, ‘How about you? What happens when you retire gracefully from our charming trio?’
‘What should happen? I just retire.’
‘Or are you contemplating making it a quartet?’
‘I’m no good at foretelling the future, George. No good at all.’
He said, ‘I think you’ve got something there, Maggie. But you haven’t answered my question. Are you contemplating ‒ anything? Or aren’t you?’
I was about to prevaricate, when I thought, why not tell him the truth? Or part of the truth. George wouldn’t mind. ‘I can’t answer that; I would like to be able to, but I can’t. All I can say is, yes, I would be most happy to make it a quartet.’
He said gently, Two sides to these questions, aren’t there, Maggie?’
I said yes, and pushed back my chair. ‘Do you mind if we go now; I had better do that packing.’
He stood up at once. ‘Suits me, m’dear. I’ve just had about enough,’ he hesitated, ‘enough coffee, for one night.’
I had forgotten that we had come out to drink the stuff. ‘Thank you very much for asking me, George.’
He looked down at me for a moment, then he shouted with laughter, and the people at the next table looked round and smiled amicably. He
took my arm and shepherded me through the room.
‘My dearest little Maggie, you are incredible! Quite, quite, incredible. And don’t forget, anytime you decide to marry me off to one of your friends, just let me know. And I’ll fix up another coffee session, and you and I will thrash it out at the nearest Lyons or ABC. Just let me know.’
He was still laughing when we got out into the street. I was not at all sure why he was so amused, but I was glad he had stopped being annoyed with me, and we walked back arm in arm in a friendly silence.
In Kent the blackberries were red, green, and black on the same branches. The kitchen-garden was crowded with the enormous cultivated variety; and all round the farm the hedges were tight with the small, sweet wild berries. There were still roses lying all over our front lawn, and the sweet-peas that hid the electrical plant in the old garage had been knocked flat by the September gales.
My father nodded at the sweet-peas gloomily. ‘Your mother is always on at me to do something about those things, but there hasn’t been a moment. There won’t be one either as long as this rain holds off.’
The heat-wave had been followed by almost constant rain all over the country; then, when the rain passed, in our district they had had the wind.
Father said, ‘Can’t dally with you here any longer, my dear. See you at lunch,’ and vanished towards the barns. The sky was low that morning, and the pace of all the men on the farm had speeded accordingly.
I walked round the garden and stood by the low hedge that overlooked the marshes. In the orchard on my left the apple-trees were still green, although their leaves were falling. The currant-bushes beside the front gate had shrivelled and the lavender was dead.
The postman swung off his cycle and came whistling towards me.
‘Good to see you back, Miss Howard. Quite like old times. But you’ve not grown no bigger.’
‘I’ll never do that now, Gugson.’ I smiled as I took the letters from him. ‘How are you?’
Gugson said he couldn’t grumble, but he still had his knee. ‘Bound to be bad after this weather, miss!’
My mother appeared at the living-room window. ‘Maggie, shall I look at your cake? It’s on time. Good morning, Gugson!’
The Secret Armour Page 12
