Tender Nurse

by Hilda Nickson

  Martin watched her face. “Still not convinced?” He put his hand under her chin. “Darling, forget Godfrey for a little while. Give me a little of your love.”

  “Martin—oh, Martin——” She flung her arms about his neck and kissed him until suddenly the coffee boiled over.

  Presently he left her. “Now don’t forget what I said. Sleep as long as you can. I’m taking a half day off. There’s only one serious op. tomorrow. I’ll call for you as soon after twelve as possible. We’ll drive over to Chester for lunch, spend the afternoon on the river, then go to a show and have dinner. “What about that, eh?”

  She smiled up at him. “Lovely.”

  With the feel of his kiss on her lips, Andrea slept well that night. It was ten o’clock when she awoke, giving her ample time to have a leisurely breakfast and a bath and to be ready when Martin called.

  “Darling, you look beautiful,” he said. “Come on, let’s go.” When she was settled in the car he said: “If it’s any comfort to you, I saw Godfrey this morning and he’s in fine spirits. Moreover, I talked to Virginia. I asked her if he was ever moody or upset about anything. She said no. A bit thoughtful at times, but quite happy.” “He has been different lately all the same. That’s what made me think——”

  He looked at her severely. “Now listen, my love, are you going to enjoy today, or are you going to start worrying again?”

  She smiled. “It’s going to be a lovely day,” she said gaily.

  “That’s better. Did you sleep well?”

  “I certainly did.”

  It was a lovely day. The weather was perfect and every moment held its magic.

  “Martin—oh, Martin,” she breathed, when at last they said good night. “It’s been a wonderful day. I never thought I should ever feel like this. I never thought such love was possible.”

  He kissed the palms of her hands, then looked deep into her eyes and kissed her slowly on the lips, pressing her to him. “Real love—such as ours is a rare and beautiful thing, my darling—and it never dies.”

  In a haze, Andrea went to her room a little while later and got straight into bed. The thought of a whole lifetime spent in the company of Martin filled her with a great happiness too deep to comprehend. Then an equally great misery flooded over her as she realized that such a joy might never be hers.

  With a low moan, she turned her face into her pillow and broke into a torrent of weeping.

  Chapter Fourteen

  GODFREY watched Virginia thoughtfully as she moved about the small ward setting things right. Her face was serene and composed, her movements quick and unhurried. She gave a swift look round, then left the room, returning a few minutes later with a vase of fresh water and some flowers which she proceeded to arrange at the bed-side. She arranged them there rather than outside so that he should have as much company as possible without waste of precious time on her part. Usually, as she arranged them, she talked, telling him of the latest film she had seen, or the television show she had watched in the Nurses’ Common room. This morning, however, she was rather quiet.

  He looked at her face, his clear brown eyes softening and a somewhat whimsical expression appearing round his mouth. “The night nurse tells me that Dr. Howard is leaving.”

  She placed a bronze chrysanthemum among the yellow ones and stepped back to see the effect before replying. “Yes, that’s right. He has an important appointment in a large chest hospital in London. He’s going to specialize in heart cases.”

  “Virginia, either you’re adept at hiding your feelings or else you have none to hide.”

  She paused to look at him in surprise. “What do you mean by that, Godfrey?”

  “I thought he was a particular friend of yours.”

  “He is.” She smiled slightly and seemed to be waiting for his next remark.

  He gave a sound of exasperation. “Really, Virginia, there are times when you resemble the Mona Lisa herself. What I meant was — aren’t you sorry he’s going?”

  “Of course.”

  Checkmated again, he thought. Aloud he said: “You don’t sound very sorry, nor look it.”

  “Don’t I?”

  “No, you don’t!” he said emphatically.

  She looked at him quizzically. “What are you trying to get at, eh? It’s no surprise to me, you know, that George is leaving. It’s been cooking up for a long time. I shall miss him, but——” She shrugged her shoulders. “So will someone else.”

  “Whom?”

  “Nurse Wainwright. She used to be quite keen on Martin Graham, now she seems to have fallen seriously for George.”

  “And you don’t mind?”

  She laughed. “So that’s what you’ve been fishing for? George and I have never been anything more than good friends.”

  “Isn’t there—anyone in your life, Virginia?’’

  “Yes.”

  He started and looked at her enquiringly.

  She smiled. “Don’t ask me to tell you whom. That is a secret. I’m free and unattached—the man I love is in love with someone else, but I’m not making a tragedy out of it—yet. Now don’t ask me any more questions. Here comes the physiotherapist, anyway.”

  Virginia went on her way to the Nurses’ Home for coffee. The ache in her heart had been there for so long, she had almost grown used to it—almost. She had become so accustomed to hiding it—covering it up, she sometimes told herself that it had healed. But deep in her heart, she knew that it was a false healing. Some day it would break down—but there would be none to see.

  As she crossed the cobbled yard, Rita Wainwright fell into step beside her.

  “Do you mind if I ask you a personal question, Slater?” “No, what is it?”

  “It—it’s about Dr. Howard—George. He came to say goodbye a short while ago. He’s going to write and wants to see me again. What I wanted to ask you was—am I breaking anything up between you two? I know I’ve been something of a glamour-puss, but I wouldn’t like to do anything like that.”

  Virginia smiled. How many more times was she going to disclaim any ownership of George? “No, Rita, you’re not breaking anything up. But thanks for mentioning it. George and I have been good friends, but there’s never been anything serious between us.”

  Rita breathed a sigh of relief. “Well, that’s all right then.”

  They saw Andrea in the distance and put up a hand.

  “Andrea looks ghastly this morning, doesn’t she?” Rita commented. “I expect she’s worrying about Godfrey.”

  “Yes,” Virginia answered absently. Andrea was pale, yes. Her eyes had dark rings under them as though she had been crying.

  Martin thought so too, and looked at her anxiously during the morning’s work. When she went to the theatre kitchen to make coffee, he made it his business to follow her.

  “Andrea, my dear, what on earth is the matter? You look almost ill.”

  She shrugged her shoulders listlessly and went on laying out the cups without speaking. He looked at her keenly, then as she began to move in the direction of the cupboard again, he took a swift step towards her and grasped her by the shoulders. He turned her round to face him and lifted her chin.

  “Darling, what it is? You’seemed quite happy yesterday —and when I said goodnight to you.”

  She looked at him dully. “I was happy yesterday— too happy, and it was a fool’s paradise. I was so happy that the thought of life without you was like contemplating an eternity of emptiness. I just couldn’t bear it.”

  She was near to tears, but did not want to give way to weeping. She tried to shake off his hands from her shoulders and move away, but he held her fast.

  “Darling, this won’t do, you know. You simply must not think like that. No power on earth is going to separate us or keep us apart.”

  Her lips quivered. “Oh, Martin, it’s no use! How can you say that when Godfrey is lying there clinging to the hope that one day I shall marry him?” Then with a sudden sob, she clung to him. “Martin—oh, Ma
rtin!”

  He held her close to his heart. Surely something must happen soon to put an end to this misery. “Darling, don’t,” he said soothingly, stroking her forehead.

  “What on earth is going on here ? Really, Mr. Graham!”

  Julia Fisher stood framed in the doorway, a look of astonishment and extreme annoyance on her face.

  Andrea made a tremendous effort to stem her sobbing and break away from Martin’s grasp. Martin, however, made no effort to relinquish his hold on her.

  “Nurse Grey is a little upset about a private matter, Sister. She’ll be all right in a moment.”

  “Upset about a private matter? I fail to see why you should be so concerned, Mr. Graham, Be good enough to take your arm away from her. Nurse Grey, compose yourself and see to the coffee immediately. Then return to the theatre. This kind of behavior is disgraceful. I shall speak to Matron.”

  Martin’s eyes blazed. “Sister Fisher—I myself will speak to Matron—you can spare yourself the trouble. In future I intend to have some voice in the choosing of the theatre staff. And in the meantime, I will thank you to treat Nurse Grey with a little more consideration. I have had quite enough of this senseless persecution of the staff and the tense atmosphere that pervades in the theatre. I shall speak to Matron without delay.”

  Andrea stood aghast. She had never heard him speak so angrily before. Julia’s face went a dull red, then changed to chalk white. She turned and left the room.

  Andrea lifted a pale face to Martin. He smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry, darling. She’s had that coming to her for a long time. I only hope she will hand in her resignation. I see no reason why Nurse Craig should not be promoted to Theatre Sister. She has been in theatre long enough—almost as long as Sister has. Now promise me, Andrea, you won’t worry any more. I can’t bear to see you unhappy. Promise.”

  She gave him a weak smile. “I promise, Martin—and I’m sorry.”

  “Never mind about being sorry. Just remember that I love you. And let this sink into that darling head of yours. All is not quite lost. There’s plenty of time yet for Godfrey to get back the use of his legs. And when that happens, there’ll be no argument about whom you’re going to marry.”

  She was off duty in the afternoon, and in spite of Martin’s words, she had to force herself to concentrate on her studies. It was late evening when she called to see Godfrey.

  “Hello, Andrea,” he said. “Did you enjoy yourself yesterday?”

  She pulled up a chair and sat down. Oh, please God, he doesn’t ask too many questions about yesterday. “Yes, thank you,” she told him guardedly.

  “Good,” he said cheerfully. “What did you do?”

  “First I had a good sleep in.”

  “Just as the doctor ordered, eh?”

  “That’s right.”

  “And where did you go afterwards?”

  Uncomfortably, she told him. He listened with interest. Andrea finished speaking, then held her breath as she waited for his next question. “Did you go alone?” But he didn’t ask it. Afterwards, she wondered why. He looked at her in silence for a moment, then he said quietly:

  “Andrea—I want to release you from your promise to marry me.”

  She gave him a startled look. “Godfrey!”

  “I should never have asked you. I know that now. I’ve had time to think lying here, and it’s no go, Andrea. I can’t let you go on with it.”

  “Why are you saying this, Godfrey?” she asked quietly.

  “Need you ask, my dear? What guarantee is there that I shall ever get back the use of my legs. Dr. Graham is doing his best, but there isn’t the slightest sign, so far. No, Andrea, I can’t have it. If I’d realized how serious the accident really was, I wouldn’t have asked you.”

  “I don’t suppose you would—but you did. I knew what the position was when I accepted you. I’m not letting you release me, Godfrey. I wouldn’t dream of it.” His eyes closed for a moment. Andrea looked at him wonderingly. He opened his eyes and met her gaze. “Andrea,” he said in a strained voice. “I don’t want you marrying me out of pity!”

  Tears started unaccountably into her eyes. She sprang to her feet. “How can you talk that way? I won’t stay and listen to you.”

  She hurried from the room. Why did he have to begin that kind of talk now? Was he giving up hope of getting better, or merely thinking of her? Feeling drained and weary, she went to her room and listlessly got undressed and into bed. She was about to put out the light when a knock came at her door and Virginia came in with a tray of tea and some sandwiches.

  “I thought you might be hungry and glad of a drink seeing you weren’t in to supper,” she said. “I expect you called to see Godfrey.”

  “Yes.”

  Andrea took the cup Virginia offered her. The tea tasted good and she felt a little of the weariness begin to drop away.

  Virginia looked at her anxiously. “Is anything the matter, Andrea, or would you rather not talk?”

  “This is a lovely cup of tea, Virginia. It was so good of you to think of it.” There was a short silence, then she said. “I don’t know whether I want to talk or not, but I’m glad of your company. This is almost like old times. We don’t seem to have had a good old ‘natter’ for ages. Briefly—I’m finding things a bit difficult. Yesterday I went out with Martin for the day. It was wonderful—no words can describe it. The reaction set in when I got back and realized that there was no future for us together. I must have looked pretty peaky in theatre this morning. Martin got worried and Sister came in just as I was having a weep on his shoulder. There was a great row. I’ve never seen Martin so angry. Then to crown everything, Godfrey talked about ‘releasing me from my promise to marry him.’ I feel as though I’ve no tears or feelings or emotions left,” she finished in a toneless voice.

  At the mention of Godfrey’s name, Virginia gave an inward start. “Don’t tell me if you’d rather not, Andrea, but what happened? What did you tell Godfrey?”

  “I refused to listen, of course. It’s easy to understand what his motives were. I didn’t think he’d been worrying about his condition, Virginia. Am I wrong?”

  “I don’t think so. He seems to me to be remarkably cheerful.”

  “I give up. Godfrey is beyond me these days. He has changed.”

  Virginia made no further comment. She put the cups on the tray and picked it up. “I’ll go and let you get some sleep,” she said abruptly and went out.

  Too worn out to think any more, Andrea fell asleep but her first thoughts on walking were of Godfrey. He was showing remarkable fortitude. How was he able to be so calm, so cheerful—and what had made him suddenly want to release her from her promise? He had seemed so blind for so long to the lack of warmth in her love and affection for him. Had he begun to guess the truth at last? If it was just herself he was thinking of, he was extraordinarily matter of fact about it. His attitude had her puzzled.

  When Martin came into theatre that morning, he was pleased to see her looking less strained. Sister Fisher was off duty for the day, so that there was more opportunity to talk without black looks and frowns.

  “You’re off duty this evening, Andrea, aren’t you?’” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Will you come out to supper with me? I saw Matron yesterday and I’d like to tell you what transpired. I have a nurses’ lecture at six-thirty. If you could wait outside the gates I could pick you up just after seven-thirty. You will come?’’

  She hesitated a moment. Surely it would be better not to see each other at all—outside hospital duties. It only served to emphasize the hopelessness of their position. But he was waiting anxiously for her answer.

  “Yes, I’ll come,” she said. “I’ll change then call and see Godfrey and meet you later. That will give me at least an hour with him.”

  “That’s the girl. Don’t hurry, I’ll wait for you. And keep your chin up, there’s still hope

  She wished she could share his continued optimism, bu
t as Godfrey still had no sensation whatever in his legs, she herself could see very little hope at all.

  At six o’clock she changed into a light, navy blue suit with a fresh, white pique blouse.

  Godfrey gazed at her admiringly. “You look wonderful, Andrea. Have you dressed up for my benefit, or are you going somewhere special?”

  “Both and neither,” she said evasively, forcing herself to smile. “How are you?”

  He shrugged. “The same.”

  “You don’t seem quite so cheery today,” she commented.

  “To tell you the truth, Andrea, I’ve got something on my mind,” he said frankly.

  Her heart missed a beat. The statement somehow sounded ominous. She shrank from any more heart searching, but she felt compelled to reply: “Wouldn’t you like to tell me?”

  He eyed her regretfully. “I’m sorry, Andrea, but I’m afraid it’s about us again. I don’t want to upset you, but won’t you re-consider the answer you gave me yesterday evening, and put an end to our engagement?”

  She moved restlessly in her chair. “How can I — for the reasons you gave me? Suppose the positions were reversed? Would you desert me?”

  “It’s not the same at all,” he declared emphatically. “Of course it is. Now don’t say any more about it,

  Godfrey, please. Let me read to you or something——”

  He shook his head. “No. Painful though it may be, we must settle this. I shall not be happy until we do. You force me to say this, Andrea. There is another reason why I want our engagement to come to an end.”

  She looked at him sharply. “What reason?”

  “My — feelings toward you have changed.”

  Andrea felt the color drain from her face. What was he saying—that he no longer loved her? If that was so——

  “What exactly do you mean, Godfrey?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady. “That you don’t love me enough to want to marry me—after all these years?”

  “Would it hurt you very much?” he asked in a low voice.

  Out in the corridor, Andrea could hear Virginia’s voice as she spoke to a fellow nurse. Suddenly the memory of a certain conversation came flooding back to her. So that was it. To what lengths of sacrifice was he prepared to go in order to give her her freedom? She couldn’t let him do it. A fierce anger welled up inside her. How could Virginia have told him.