The Secret Armour

by Lucilla Andrews

  Alistair Corford danced with me to the radiogram after dinner. ‘I had no conception,’ he said, ‘when I asked you to bring your lovely Rose that I should be starting something like this.’ He tilted his head to look down at my face and grinned. ‘I don’t know what’s happening to David’s private life, whether he and Clare have called it off. But I must say I feel it will be quite a good thing if they have. I’ve never seen David so taken with anyone.’

  ‘Can you blame him?’ I said lightly.

  He shook his head. ‘Could any man? You know, we must repeat this more often. You two girls must come up for our Saturday night dos. I know I can answer for David. How does the idea appeal to you?’

  Saturday night in the Resident’s sitting-room was the highlight of the hospital week. It was also the most exclusive club in Benedict’s.

  ‘Very much,’ I said untruthfully; ‘thank you.’

  The telephone, which had rung incessantly all evening for either Alistair or Mike, now rang again. Mike answered it, then handed the receiver to Alistair.

  ‘It’s all yours, chum. Thank the Lord I’m not S.S.O., and there is a limit to orthopaedic casualties.’

  Alistair took the instrument, David and Rose stopped dancing, David switched off the radiogram with one hand, still holding on to her with his other hand.

  Mike said cheerfully, ‘That’s a pal of yours, David. Man named Hartigan. He was in on your Sunday afternoon gore-party in Willy B.’

  ‘I remember.’ David frowned at the memory, and his eyebrows met in a straight line. ‘Nice chap. Ask him up for a drink, Alistair.’

  Alistair nodded impatiently. ‘Get her picture taken and send the plates up to me, George. I’ll decide then ‒ but I’ll come down and see her now if you are worried?’

  George apparently said he wasn’t worried. Alistair relaxed. ‘Right, then I’ll wait until I’ve seen the plates. Hey ‒ wait one moment! My brother is up here, and I believe you were in on his big show in Willy B.? Come up and see him. When? Oh, bring up those plates yourself and combine business and pleasure.’

  Twenty minutes later George arrived with the wet plates. ‘Let’s have ’em.’ Alistair pushed himself off the sofa and held out an arm. ‘When did you say this happened?’ George’s eyebrows, which had been doing their disappearing act since he entered the room, now returned to normal as he answered, ‘Two days ago, sir.’

  Alistair looked at the plates carefully. ‘I think I’ll go down and have a look at her ‒ no, don’t you move. I can do this alone, and you can stay and renew your acquaintance with my brother. You know all our ladies, I believe?’ George said thank you he did, and asked after David’s leg.

  ‘No shop,’ said Mike. ‘Not even a mention of a ruddy bone! This is a party. Have some beer, George, and put on that machine again, David. I want to trip the light fantastic.’

  ‘Fantastic is the word for it, my love,’ Judy smiled at him, ‘your dancing and this carpet!’

  Rose said, ‘At least it’s soft on the feet.’

  ‘How are your feet, Maggie?’ asked David. ‘You always used to suffer from feet in the old days as I remember.’

  I was glad he remembered something, if only that.

  ‘Maggie always has feet,’ said George kindly, ‘even though they look too absurdly small to be any trouble.’

  They all stared at my feet. ‘How big are they, Maggie?’ asked Judy.

  I said I took threes. Mike nodded wisely. ‘Right bone structure for your height.’

  ‘Mike!’ said Judy. ‘No shop!’

  George had taken Alistair’s seat beside me. ‘Cigarette, Maggie? Or do you care to dance?’

  ‘Cigarette, please.’

  As he held the match for me, he said, ‘I’ve never known you smoke before.’

  ‘I don’t often. I just feel like one to-night. I expect it’s the effect of Monday in Cas.’

  ‘I expect so.’ He was watching Rose dance with David, ‘Of course, you met him in Willy B.; I had forgotten about him.’

  I said, ‘Yes. He’s done very well. He’s really been very lucky.’

  George said, ‘Very lucky indeed.’ There was something so odd in his voice that I turned to look at him. I had known George, off and on, for a long time now. This was the first time I had ever heard him sound bitter. He noticed my glance and smiled faintly.

  ‘Haven’t I shaved, Maggie?’

  ‘George ‒ you lunatic ‒ of course.’

  ‘Well,’ he said mildly, ‘I might have forgotten. Sure you don’t want to dance?’

  ‘If you don’t mind my wasting a perfectly good cigarette, may I change my mind?’

  ‘I’d be delighted if you would, m’dear,’ he said, and stood up. As we danced I thought I must have been imagining things. And then I thought, I have not been doing anything of the sort. George is as upset as I am about David. I could not explain how I knew, but I could work out why he was upset. That was simple. George was upset, because of Rose.

  Alice flicked her light on and off as I tip-toed past her door. I turned her door-handle quietly.

  ‘Maggie?’ she whispered. ‘Can you see in the dark? I daren’t leave the light on as Home Sister’s been on the warpath.’

  ‘Just as well you didn’t risk it. She hasn’t gone to bed yet. She checked us in a few minutes ago.’ I was very grateful to Home Sister and the darkness.

  ‘Did Rose really go with you? Nurse Naylor told me she saw you both being escorted across the park to the party by Alistair Corford, but I told her she must have seen double. I thought Rose said at breakfast she wanted to go to the movies.’

  ‘No.’ I sat down on the side of her bed. ‘Rose came.’

  Alice said carefully, ‘How was David?’

  I had been acting all evening. I stopped acting. I said, ‘His leg is all right. Apart from that, I’m not sure. I didn’t see much of him.’

  ‘Rose?’ Alice never wasted time at getting to a point.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Oh, no, Maggie!’

  ‘Oh, yes. He went down like a pack of cards. Even the S.S.O. said he had never seen David knocked for six that way before.’

  ‘The great Alistair C. said that to you?’

  ‘He had to say something, poor man. He had asked me on David’s behalf and found himself foisted with me for the whole evening. I must say it was a relief to see George.’

  Alice asked where George Hartigan came in to the Senior Resident’s party.

  ‘He had to bring up some plates. They asked him in to meet David again and have some beer.’

  ‘How did Rose react to that? She didn’t know about you and David, so one can’t blame her for that ‒ but what about when her beloved George arrived? What did she do?’

  ‘She didn’t really do anything. I mean she didn’t give anything away. She was just ‒ well ‒ Rose. In one of her mad moods, and you know what she’s like then. The life and soul of any party, if it’s only us three having cocoa in the Preliminary Training School.’

  She fumbled for her torch. ‘I must have a cigarette. Want one?’

  ‘Please. I’m smoking like a chimney to-night. I always reserve nicotine for moments of crisis.’

  ‘Was George there long enough to notice Rose?’

  ‘He wasn’t there very long, but he noticed all right. One thing I have learnt about George is that he’s quite observant in a leisurely way.’

  ‘Quite observant is a mild understatement, Maggie. I’d say that man doesn’t miss a thing. Not a single thing. But did you get any impression as to how he felt about it all.’

  ‘For once I did. I’m not generally receptive about other people’s reactions, but I was a proper little radar-set tonight.’ I told her what I had thought. ‘I’ve never heard George being even faintly angry before, but I’m certain ‒ that is, as certain as I am of anything, which is hardly a criterion ‒ that he was good and upset.’

  ‘He thought it was more than an evening’s amusement?’

  ‘Of course he
did. Because it was a lot more than that. Oh, Alice, you know what that sort of thing is like to see! When two people just click!’

  She said yes, she had known it happen. ‘And George was really put out?’

  ‘I told you,’ I repeated wearily.

  She said, ‘I dunno. Not at all. I just don’t get it.’

  ‘Alice, now it’s you that’s dumb. It was Rose. He saw how David went for her ‒ and that did it.’

  She said, ‘You were there and I wasn’t, so I suppose you must be right. But it shakes me.’

  ‘What? David? Rose? Or George?’

  ‘It just shakes me, Maggie.’ Then her voice softened. ‘Duckie, I’m terribly sorry. If it’s any consolation ‒ which it won’t be ‒ I never thought David was good enough for you.’

  ‘Thanks.’ I half-smiled into the darkness. ‘Now, do we warn Rose?’

  ‘Rose can cope. She won’t need any warning. She’ll understand how to manage David Corford.’

  ‘I expect you’re right.’ I stood up. ‘I’m going to bed. But I do hope Rose can cope. I should hate her to feel one day the way I feel to-night.’

  Casualty Hall was full next morning. By nine o’clock all the rooms were packed, and there was not a spare seat on any of the benches. Sister Casualty sent Rose to Room 27.

  ‘And you go back to 31 again, Nurse Howard. You will have the same dressers, but, as Mr Peters is assisting Mr Macnamara in the theatre this morning, Mr Hartigan will be your Casualty Officer.’

  I asked the patients their names, filled in the log-book, gave out new Cas. cards where necessary, suggested that they began unwinding their bandages.

  ‘But leave them if they have stuck. The young doctors will be here in a moment to help you soak them off.’

  We called the students Y.G.s among ourselves, but ‘the young doctors’ to the patients. The word ‘dresser’ conveyed nothing, and ‘student’ bothered them. The patients quite understood that ‘the young doctors,’ as opposed to ‘the Doctor,’ were still in the learning stage.

  One of the men had cut the palm of his hand deeply.

  George appeared at my elbow as I spoke, his white coat fairly rustling with starch, his hair turned to silver by the strip lighting.

  ‘Would you see this patient first, please, Mr Hartigan? I thought perhaps you might want him to go to Mr Corford.’

  George said, ‘’Morning, Nurse,’ and smiled at the man. ‘Good morning. Yes, I think Nurse is right. We’ll have to shift you to another room.’ He looked round and called over one of the dressers. ‘Will you show this gentleman the way to Mr Corford’s room, please?’

  I said, ‘And tell Nurse Fitzpatrick he’s queued.’

  ‘Right.’ The dresser grinned. ‘My usual routine. Follow me, sir! I have the perfect queue-jumping technique.’

  ‘Now,’ said George, ‘where do you want me to kick off? The sinks?’

  ‘Please.’

  He walked away; I noticed two new red cards by the door. ‘Would you go to the head of the queue, please? And show your cards or you’ll be lynched.’

  The men smiled. ‘Right you are, Nurse. Ta.’

  The hours shot by. George examined, ordered treatment; the dressers and I worked steadily in his wake.

  Suddenly I heard a gasp, and a pale green student slumped on to a chair by the door. I leapt for the sal volatile bottle, poured out a dose, and reached the student and the door as Busey wheeled in a stretcher.

  ‘You’d best take a dose of that yourself, Nurse,’ he murmured briefly, as he pushed the long trolley carefully behind the screen at the end of the room.

  I handed the glass to the boy, who sat with his head between his knees. The waiting patients whispered sympathetically, ‘Ever so young, that young chap. And that little nurse. Don’t know how they do it. But you have to be born to it, I reckon.’

  I went quickly behind the screen. Busey was gently uncovering the man’s face, and for an instant I clutched instinctively at the metal side of the trolley. I forced a smile into my eyes and felt for the man’s pulse. It was hard to tell by his face if he was conscious or not. Then his hand gripped mine and he muttered something. I bent down close to his injured face.

  I said, ‘I’m the nurse. The doctors will be here in a second. Don’t try to talk, my dear.’

  Busey said, ‘Sister’s sent to the theatre for the S.S.O. He’s coming directly.’ He drew nearer to me. ‘Like me to fetch you a drop of that stuff, Nurse?’

  I shook my head as George, followed by two dressers, came swiftly round the screen. George said calmly, ‘I’m a doctor, old chap. I’m going to see what’s going on with your face. I won’t hurt you, but you hang on to Nurse. I’m going to touch you now.’

  I felt rather than saw the dressers stiffen. I heard their carefully controlled breathing.

  Alistair Corford arrived in his theatre-clothes a few minutes later, as George and I were covering the burnt skin with saline gauze. He took one look at the man and said, ‘You had better come into here, laddie, and let us patch up that face. Don’t worry, we can fix it. Good as new. And we’ll not let it hurt any more.’ He glanced at George. ‘Admit at once to Henry Gwatkin. Small ward. For theatre now. And give him a quarter before you do anything else. All right? I’ll tell Sister Theatre myself.’ He turned back to the man and touched his hand gently. ‘I’ll see you upstairs in a few minutes, laddie. And don’t forget what I told you. No worrying. You’ll do all right.’

  He walked away as quickly as he had come, and the slither of his soft rubber over-boots on the rubber floor was the only sound in the room that had grown so quiet behind us.

  I prepared the injection of morphia, George witnessed for me, and I gave it, then Busey pushed the trolley away slowly. One of the dressers went with him to the ward.

  The waiting men sat silent and patient as they watched the covered stretcher go by. Then they shook their heads and looked at the floor.

  George said quietly but clearly, ‘That chap should do pretty well I think, Nurse Howard,’ and the men relaxed.

  ‘Marvellous,’ they told each other. ‘Marvellous, what they can do for you in these places, nowadays.’

  George’s fair head was bent over the log-book as he wrote in the brief case notes and time of admission. ‘God knows, I hope I’m right, Maggie,’ he muttered.

  ‘I hope so,’ I murmured, ‘I do hope so.’

  He walked to the head of the queue. ‘Let’s have a look at that hand, please.’ Then he smiled at the man. ‘But what I’d really like ‒ and I expect you would too ‒ is a long cool beer.’

  The tall dark dresser, whose name was Hurst, said, ‘And how.’

  The men grinned. ‘Wouldn’t mind one meself, Doctor.’

  One of them looked my way. ‘Could do with a smoke, I could, Nurse.’

  I said, ‘I’d love you to have one, but you’ll probably blow us all through the roof if you do. We have a lot of ether about in this room.’

  ‘Wouldn’t want to do that, Nurse! Not to a pretty little nurse like you!’ And the other men chuckled, and said that was a fact as they unwound their bandages again.

  ‘Nurse Howard!’ Sister was in the doorway. ‘This room should be cleared by now. You have five full benches waiting outside!’

  ‘Yes, Sister, I’m sorry, Sister.’

  Mr Hurst winked at me across the room. George was signing his name on a Cas. card. Sister turned on him.

  ‘Mr Hartigan. There are three ears waiting to be seen by you in the next room.’

  ‘Yes, Sister, I’m sorry, Sister,’ said George automatically.

  Sister’s eyes wandered slowly round the room. ‘Dresser!’ This to the boy who had fainted just now. ‘Those chairs are for the patients, not the staff. The staff do not sit down in Casualty Hall!’ With a flick of her apron skirts she was away across the hall to Rose in Room 27.

  The room was quiet after Sister had gone. Not the strained silence of ten minutes ago, but a peaceful, friendly quiet.

  ‘
You know, Nurse,’ said the docker whose sock I was putting on, ‘if them Israelites had had her in the bloomin’ desert they wouldn’t have needed no Egyptians and no sloek-whips! That Sister would have had them Pyramids up in no time!’

  The other men nodded. ‘That’s right,’ they agreed.

  At half-past one the room was finally clear, the benches outside, wonderfully empty. Sister burst into the room, sniffed, said my gauze swabs were not folded correctly, and I had better go to lunch.

  ‘Nurse Barnaby can take over in here until you get back. She’s off at two and can come back here again this evening. I’ve sent Nurse Fitzpatrick to 27.’

  I had no time to do more than smile at Rose as she glided in behind Sister. There had been no chance at all to talk this morning, and, since we were on different shifts, there would be none until to-night. I was grateful for this; I was even grateful to Sister, since she arranged the off duty, and I quite forgave her for pulling my neatly arranged dressing-cupboard to pieces because she had discovered that one bunch of twenty slings was facing the wrong way.

  It was still daylight when I went off duty that evening. The sky was grey and heavy; it must have rained a good deal during the day, although I had not known it ‒ the ramp was wet, and there were large puddles on the grass in the park. I shivered, and pulled my cloak more tightly round me, but as I did not want to go indoors to my room in the Home, or to chatter with any of my set who might be off, I walked on. I passed all the blocks now in use, then the ruins left by the last war, and the earlier more natural ruins of small two-storey buildings that had been built centuries ago as the original Benedict’s.

  My foot tripped on a loose brick, and I slipped. I reached out quickly and steadied myself on the small, chipped statue of the King’s sister who had paid for the founding of the hospital out of her dowry some hundreds of years back.

  A voice behind me called, ‘Come, come, Nurse Howard. Treat Her Royal Highness with more respect. Even if you are Nationalized now.’

  I recognized the voice and turned slowly. David walked up to me, tall and neat in his immaculate uniform, his mouth smiling, his eyes serious.

  ‘I was hoping to see you. I’ve just rung your Home, and they said you were off but hadn’t come in yet. I wondered if you would care to come out and eat with me?’