‘Are your two middle brothers in medicine?’ I asked once.
‘Uh-huh. Luke’s following in the old man’s footsteps. Simon’s in the Navy.’
‘Are you going to concentrate on surgery, too?’
‘Not sure. I haven’t Big Brother’s one-track mind, Nurse. Wish I had. It simplifies life so.’
‘It does?’
‘Nursie dear, of course! Big Brother’s a lucky devil. He doesn’t have any of my problems.’
‘You have problems? Bad ones?’
‘Do I not!’ And he went on to ask if I could advise him how to stop falling in love with a different girl every few months. ‘Sometimes it’s weeks! I don’t mean to do it, Nursie, it just happens. I love ’em all!’
I controlled my expression. ‘My younger brother shares your problem. He goes in for tall, buxom brunettes. I never can remember their names, and am always getting them wrong. But I don’t think either he or you should let it worry you. It’ll sort itself out.’
‘That’s what Big Brother says. According to him, when the genuine article hits you you can’t miss it. Agree?’
I hesitated as I tied his sling, without knowing why. I was in love with Richard. I had loved him all summer. The fact that being so busy and away from him lately had made him slide into the back of my mind did not alter a thing. ‘Sure. You can’t.’
He took that up at once. ‘You can’t, eh? Come on, Nursie ‒ tell Dave. Who is this A. N. Other who has dared come between me and my very own staff nurse? Tell me the worst!’
I said firmly, ‘We were discussing you, not me, Mr Druro. Let’s keep it that way. Now then, is this arm comfortable?’
He said his arm was fine but his heart had taken one hell of a beating. ‘I thought I might fall in love with you next.’
‘I wouldn’t do that.’ I helped him forward, fluffed his pillows. ‘Jill wouldn’t like it at all. (Jill was the physio student.) And I’m not a blonde.’
‘But you have your points, Nurse Francis.’ He looked me over, then wolf-whistled softly. ‘The best pair of legs I’ve seen around Simeon’s. And they don’t all have to be blondes. Why can’t I make a change?’
I smiled. ‘Because, Jill apart, Sister Mark wouldn’t like it. Do you know the quickest way out of this hospital short of deliberately poisoning a patient is to have an affair with one? Sorry, Mr Druro. I’m not in the game.’
‘’Struth! I didn’t realize that.’ He reached for my hand, kissed it before I guessed what he was about. ‘Perhaps you had better just be a sister to me, after all.’
‘And perhaps,’ said Johnny’s voice from the foot of the bed, ‘you had better just let Nurse Francis get on with the work I am sure she wants to do, Dave.’
He was scowling hideously. I was glad of my mask. Dave was unmoved. ‘But I am Nurse Francis’s work! Didn’t I tell you Sister Mark has officially made me her staff nurse’s patient?’ He beamed smugly. ‘Nurse Francis’s special. That’s me.’ Johnny looked from Dave to me.
‘I congratulate my moronic brother, Nurse. I can only sympathize with you.’ He was still scowling, which worried me for Dave. He was a very good patient, even if he had an occasional crazy lapse, and I did not like people to scowl at my patients.
‘It’s kind of you to sympathize, Mr Druro, but quite unnecessary. Your brother is an excellent patient.’ Dave was practically purring. ‘I enjoy nursing him.’
‘Knowing most nurses’ views on nursing doctors and students, you’ll forgive me saying I find that hard to believe, Nurse Francis.’
That would have silenced me, but for Dave. ‘Then I hope you will try and believe it, Mr Druro. I know Sister Mark and the S.S.O. would agree with me,’ I said intentionally to remind him that Dave was the one man in Mark who was not his patient because of their relationship. ‘As for nursing doctors ‒ well, every job has its occupational hazards.’ And I pushed my trolley away.
David’s laugh made the other men smile. Mr Varden lowered his newspaper. ‘It’s good to have that cheery lad in here, Nurse. Fair brightens the ward, he does.’
I did not see Johnny leave. When I said good-night to Dave he was still very pleased with himself. ‘In future I am going to come running to you, my cherished Nursie, when Big Brother starts getting tough. You know how to handle him.’
I did not agree, but kept that quiet. ‘He give you a brotherly word?’
‘One or two. But nothing to the harsh words on being unethical ‒ impertinent ‒ taking advantage of an innocent nurse’s routine he was obviously all set to give before you cut him down to size.’ He snuggled down like a small boy as I tucked him in. ‘Are you sure you wouldn’t like me to fall in love with you? Might be fun.’
‘I’m not in the game, remember? And I’m quite sure your oldest brother would disapprove quite as much as Sister Mark.’
He grinned. ‘You can say that again, Nursie! You certainly can say that again!’
Sister gave me my official off-duty rota that night. I very much hoped Richard would ring me, as I had good news for him, but after missing him the other night did not like to try again. I had too often heard my brothers’ views on girls who kept telephoning them unasked. ‘Say I’m out ‒ you don’t know when I’ll be back ‒ dead ‒ anything, Kirsty! Only get rid of her! I said I’d ring. Why can’t she wait?’
That week ended, the next began; Richard had still not contacted me. I knew very well this was only because he was too busy. Residents in large general hospitals work incredibly hard for incredibly long hours, and I had seen genuinely devoted husbands and fiancés too dead weary to summon the energy to lift a receiver to talk to the women in their lives.
Early that next week I wrote Richard a short letter saying I understood his silence, but had to let him know the splendid news that our weekends matched. ‘Will you come down? Or shall I come up? Home Sister in town will find me a room.’
He telephoned the day my letter arrived. ‘Darling, I feel an absolute heel to have neglected you like this. Are you furious?’
‘Of course not. I guessed what was happening. We’ve been hectic too, and time has flown. How’s Lister? And Sanders?’
‘Making solid progress and wicker baskets by the score. Most of the chaps you knew have gone home. Any idea when you’ll be back?’
‘No one’s told me. Phil Murrow has an ugly notion I may be here much longer than we thought. I suppose you haven’t heard how Sonia Dinsford’s getting on?’
‘Sonia?’ He paused as if he needed time to place her. ‘Far as I know, still on the sick or sick-leave list. I heard somehow ‒ hang on ‒ oh, I know ‒ the chaps were saying something about her latest engagement being off, and then that she had had quite a tough time getting rid of her temp.’
I was intrigued. ‘Darling Guthrie’s out? Richard! That one lasted even shorter than her other engagements. This is a bit of goss. No one’s mentioned it down here.’
‘I think it’s right. Better not quote me. So you’re out of touch in exile?’
‘Completely. We live in a little world on our own little hill.’ I suddenly remembered trying to ring him. ‘Did Sid ever mention it? He said you were Chelsea way.’
‘No, he didn’t.’ He sounded annoyed. ‘Damn Sid! I wish I’d known. I was out for a beer with the boys.’
‘Why on a Monday night? Not your evening off.’
‘God knows why now. I’ve forgotten. It was ages back. Let’s not waste more time or good lolly on it. We must fix up the weekend as it’s nearly on us. Look, don’t come up. I’d much rather come down. A weekend in the country’ll make a nice break. I hope to get off reasonably early on Saturday morning, will drive down and collect you in time for lunch in Hilldown. I’ve already booked a table at The Stag. All right?’
‘Perfect. Thanks a lot.’
‘All part of the service, my love. Have to rush now. See you.’
I went to find Phil and tell her my pleasing news. One of the other girls told me Phil had been called back to the theatre just
before I got in, so I went along to my room and told myself how wonderful Richard was and how much I had missed him. Yet, for no reason I could discover, although Saturday was only the day after tomorrow, though I was delighted by the thought of seeing him again, it did not have me walking on air as it would have done in London. I could not understand why not, wished Phil was free to thrash it out. Alone I was only able to come to the unsatisfactory conclusion that there was a certain amount of truth in that ‘out of sight out of mind’ business.
There was a note from Phil under my door next morning. ‘Did not get back until 1 a.m. Why did I say I wanted to be a theatre nurse? Still, some compensations. Am now off until midday Sunday ‒ intend sleeping late, then cycling to Hilldown for the noon fast to town. See you Sunday night. Have a good weekend. My love, duckie. P.’
I scrawled an answer telling her my plans, wishing her the same, slid it under her door before going to breakfast.
The Mark night nurses had told David I was off for the weekend.
He groaned extravagantly. ‘Who is going to look after one poor ailing student-man while you are out of town living it up with Mr A. N. Other?’
‘Sister Mark. And you know how she spoils you.’
That was true. David had managed to coax the fierce Sister Mark into indulging him like a favourite nephew. She was always kind to the men, but some of them were initially scared by her tough exterior. David had ignored this from the start, and enchanted the Mark nursing staff by the way he mellowed her with his crazy talk. ‘That’s quite enough from you, you naughty boy!’ Sister would protest with a superficial sternness that fooled not even the first-years.
Watching his technique with her had long made me decide he had had such a training growing up with Johnny that nothing and no one could now scare him.
He said Sister Mark was cute, but he would be lost without me. ‘And you haven’t yet told me what you are going to do in the big city.’
‘I’m not going up. No’ ‒ I pushed him gently back against his pillows ‒ ‘don’t bounce, my dear. It’s not good for your poor arm. Try and move all in one piece.’
He said he would be an angel, albeit one with a clipped wing, if I would only give him the details of my love-life. ‘Isn’t it Mr A. N. Other’s free weekend too?’
I said sternly, ‘As Sister would say, that’s quite enough from you, you naughty boy!’
He smiled. ‘That means it is his free weekend, or you would have denied it hotly. Is he coming down here, tomorrow?’
I smiled back and went on making his bed. ‘Another detail settled.’ He nodded to himself. ‘Where’s he taking you for lunch? Tudor Rooms in Hilldown?’ I shook my head. ‘Then where? There’s no decent place but that now our old haunt The Stag has closed.’
‘Stag closed?’
‘Sure. Last month before I arrived according to Big Brother. He used to eat there a lot. Remember to warn old A. N. Other and tell him to try the Tudor Rooms. It’s good.’
I let that one go too, as I finished his bed wondering if I had heard wrongly when Richard said he had already booked our table. Then I guessed he probably called the new place The Stag from force of habit, and went on to think on the other little bit of information Dave had given me. So Johnny ate there a lot formerly. Obviously with Sonia.
We had a long theatre list that afternoon. It was not finished when Sister sent me off duty at six. The surgeons were having a break. A little group of leaf-green-masked, capped, and gowned men stood outside the theatre enjoying the suddenly cooler evening air. They looked like woodland creatures that had pottered out of the pines not eighty yards away. I walked by without recognizing any man under the green, then had the sensation that I was being watched. I glanced over my shoulder. The group by the door had their backs to me. The surgeons’ room window was open. Johnny leant out. His mask was down, his cap pushed back on his head. He did not smile as our eyes met. He raised a hand in an infinitely weary wave. I waved back automatically, and was quite irrationally pleased he had bothered to acknowledge me and was having a break. He looked dead tired.
I knew I had Dave to thank for that minor act of civility. Johnny had not mellowed to me as Sister Mark to his brother; he still spoke to me only when he had to, but since Dave’s arrival in the ward he had grown less critical of my work and, apparently, presence. As I ambled on thinking of this, of the long afternoon list following that other last night, I realized Johnny had worked through two weekends. He should have been off last week, on duty this. I wandered why he had changed. Probably something to do with Sonia. He should be off this weekend and would be wise to take it. He was a strong man, but every man must either rest or crack. At the window just now he had looked far too close to cracking.
Summer, instead of going out in a roaring storm as we had all expected, was fading gently into autumn. A soft breeze was moving the pines as I let myself into our hut. The breeze turned to a gale during the night. Next morning the pink and crimson rose-petals scattered all over the ramp and Casualty yard made the place look as if we had had a wedding.
Richard could not officially leave the London branch before ten, so it was useless to expect him before noon. To be on the safe side, I let Albert know I was expecting to be called for. ‘I’ll come along to the lodge at twelve. Before that, I’ll be here.’
‘Right you are, Nurse. I’ll give you a shout soon as I spots Mr Bartney’s car. Red, ain’t it? Right.’
He stuck his head out of his lodge, then came out as I walked by. ‘Want to wait inside, Nurse?’
‘I think I’ll stay out, thanks, Albert.’ I had already noticed Johnny’s back looking most odd in tweed instead of white. He was taking a call at the switchboard. ‘The wind’s not too bad now, and anyway the lane’s too sunken for it to bother me. It’s quite warm’; and as he was an old pal I added honestly, ‘I don’t want to disturb Mr Druro’s conversation.’
Albert agreed Mr Druro had wanted to talk private. ‘If not he’d be using one of the main lines instead of the public box we got in there. He’ll not be long, I reckon, Nurse. I’ll give you a shout when it’s all clear.’
‘Thanks.’ I had another look. ‘What’s Mr Druro doing at the switchboard if he’s using the public box?’
‘He’s waiting for his call to come through, and watching me board for me while I’m out here. I learned him to work me board one night when I was on late shift and he was having it quiet. He said just now as he might as well keep his hand in to give him something to pass the time.’
I had had late breakfast with three other staff nurses. They were all considerably my senior, so I had listened rather than joined in their conversation. Not having seen Phil, I had had no opportunity to hand on the news that Sonia’s engagement was off, and as my breakfast companions were in her set felt it would be tactless to spring it on them. Sets were very like families. The set members could run each other down, or have open hates, but heaven help anyone out of the set who attempted to criticize, or even agree with a harsh comment. Sonia’s name had come up only to be dismissed with a ‘she’ll never change, as we all know’.
Phil was the only person to whom I had mentioned my hunch that Johnny returned her interest. She allowed I could be right, as most men lost their heads over some woman at some period of their lives; Johnny had been unusually bloody-minded in the theatre recently, but she personally thought he was just plain tired. ‘Not that Sonia isn’t a fascinating little bitch, damn her. But let’s not talk about her. She annoys me so much that her name alone makes me bloody-minded. Freud would say I was jealous. He’d be dead right.’
I strolled out of the main gate, past the ten-foot-square notice ST SIMEON’S-IN-THE-COUNTRY, and down the lane. The grass banks rose sharply on either side. I chose a spot in a curve several yards on, half-sat, half-leant against the slope. From there I could see our lane clear to the foot of the hill where it joined the main road to Hilldown, our nearest town, then, as our hill was the highest, the broad white ribbon of the by-pass goi
ng over the tops of the two hills beyond.
It was the end of the season. There was little local traffic on the country road, less on the by-pass. A small black speck crawled uphill like a beetle, disappeared into a valley, then appeared again. I watched it disappear for the last time, then followed another black speck coming our way for something to do. Richard’s red car was not yet in sight.
From my resting-place I could see and be seen by the lodge. I looked round occasionally to check the time. Johnny’s call was delaying as much as Richard. Albert was back at the switchboard; Johnny was sitting on a high stool reading a newspaper. He did not look up when I glanced in his direction.
The first half-hour passed quickly. The second took longer, and sitting made me cold for the first time in months. I had another look at the lodge, hoping Johnny had finished and I could go in. He was there.
The clock cheered me. The man must eat. Senior lunch was now being served. He would go soon.
Richard’s being late did not worry me. I knew too much about hospitals to have any doubts as to what was delaying him. He had to be on his way, since, if something really big had cropped up, he would have got some porter to ring Albert with a message for me.
The by-pass was empty. A small green scooter turned off the country road and chugged up our lane. The driver and passenger were girls. When they stopped near me and removed skid lids and goggles I recognized two of my colleagues from the Staff Nurses’ home.
I did not know either well. The pillion girl was in Sonia’s set. Her name was June Franklin.
‘What on earth are you doing here, Francis? Admiring the view?’ she asked.
‘It’s worth it, but actually no. Waiting for my date.’
‘Are you, now?’ She exchanged a queer little smile with her friend. ‘You must be a patient soul. Where are you off to?’
‘Not quite sure. Lunch, somewhere.’ I was intentionally vague. Their attitude had me instinctively on the defensive. ‘You down from town?’
Flowers from the Doctor Page 7
