Outpost Hospital

by Sheila Ridley

  She was still standing there in her slip when someone knocked at the door. Goodness! That would be Andrew wanting to know if he was to take her to his neighbor who had the airplane.

  Hastily pushing her arms into her housecoat and tying the belt she opened the door.

  Mark Charlton was there.

  “Oh, it’s you, Doctor,” she exclaimed in surprise, fidgeting with her hair and the belt of her housecoat. “Er ... good morning.” He said “Good morning,” and then she noticed that he had an envelope in his hand. An all too familiar envelope! It was another cable. An icy fear spread over her as she stared at it.

  He held it out to her. “I was walking by the river when the boat brought this so I said I’d give it to you.” She made no move to take it from him and he said, “Shall I open it for you?”

  She nodded, and when he had slit open the envelope and taken out the cable she whispered, “Will ... will you read it please?” Holding tightly onto the door she heard him say, “Your father much improved. No need for your return. Keep you informed. Dr. Fraser.”

  Then she took the paper and read it herself. “He’s getting better,” she said thankfully.

  Mark Charlton smiled warmly. “Yes. I’m very glad, Nurse. Er...” He looked down at the floor and then back at Katherine. “I’m afraid you thought I was very hard yesterday over your father’s illness. Well, perhaps I was, but we have both worked hard to get where we have here, and it looked as though it was all going to fall apart. It would have taken months to repair the damage. So you see how important you are to me.” He smiled again and with his odd little salute he walked away.

  Katherine watched him go, his words echoing in her mind. “You see how important you are to me.” And Dad was getting better. Dr. Fraser had been their family doctor for many years, and if he said she need not return, he could be taken at his word. She did not have to choose between her father and Mark Charlton. For that is what the problem really came down to, though she would not have admitted it to herself until now; and even now she pushed the unpleasant thought firmly out of her mind as she quickly finished dressing.

  Then she wrote a letter to her father and managed to catch the messenger who had delivered her cable before he left the station. He would take it to Makurdi from where it would travel by airmail.

  This made her late to breakfast and she had only time to tell Andrew the good news before she went to the hospital.

  It was operating morning; then there were out-patients to treat, and at about three o’clock, leaving Simon to carry on with the clinic, Katherine walked into the village to visit “her mums” as she called them. These were the women due to give birth shortly, to whom she gave simple instructions on preparing for the baby, and a brief health checkup; and the women with new babies whom she advised on feeding and hygiene. She always took with her a good supply of orange juice, dried milk and vitamin tablets and antiseptic creams.

  These gifts were received in most cases with pleasure, but Katherine could never be quite sure that the orange juice was not rubbed on cuts or sores, and the cream taken internally. There was no doubt however that the health of both mothers and babies was improving noticeably.

  At six in the evening Katherine set off back to the hospital, her empty case in one hand and a bag with her scales in the other.

  It was a fine, warm evening and she was enjoying the walk through the belt of trees that separated the village from the hospital. The pungent smell of leaves and grass after the long heavy rains; the sounds—some she could not identify—a mixture of chattering, grunting, screeching and, in an occasional quiet moment, even a plaintive “moo” from one of the dairy cows Mark had imported from a more progressive village to provide fresh milk for the children—all these now-familiar noises made a pleasing accompaniment.

  She was halfway home when she heard running footsteps behind her and, turning, saw Andrew rushing toward her'. She stopped to wait for him. When he reached her he panted, “Do you always tear along at such a rate? Phew! I’m piffed.”

  “Sorry, Andrew,” she laughed, “I didn’t realize I was going quickly.”

  “That’s because you never stop long enough to notice how you were rushing around before. That’s a bit complicated but you know what I mean. Here, give me those bags.” He took them, pretending to find them very heavy. “Jings! I’ll need a wee rest before I carry these home. Look!” He pointed to a fallen tree trunk about ten yards from the path. “Let’s sit there a while. It looks quite dry.”

  Katherine shook her head. “No. I must get back. I have notes to write up and Dr. Charlton might want me for something.”

  “Och, you’ve been working since eight o’clock this morning. Surely you’re entitled to a few minutes break now?” When she still refused, he said, “All right. If your conscience won’t allow you to take time off you can justify it by regarding me as a patient. Then you’ll realize that I need a rest before carrying these heavy bags if I’m not to strain my heart. And it’s in no condition to withstand any extra strain at the moment.”

  She looked quickly at his solemn face. It was hard to tell if he was serious or not. “What do you mean, Andrew? Is there something wrong with your heart?”

  “I’m not really sure yet,” he replied. “But come and sit down and I’ll tell you all about it.”

  She followed him to the fallen trunk and sat down looking uncertainly at Andrew as he put the bags down and took his place beside her. He didn’t speak and she put her fingers on his wrist. “Your pulse is normal,” she told him. “If this is just a crafty trick to persuade me to neglect my work I—”

  He smiled and took her hands in his. “Don’t be angry with me, Kathie,” he pleaded disarmingly. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you all day, and there hasn’t been a moment. And once you get back to the house there’d have been no chance.”

  “It is getting rather dark, though,” she said nervously, realizing what he was going to say. She tried to withdraw her hand but he held on to it.

  “Don’t try to run away, Kathie, my dear,” he said. “Listen for just a moment.”

  “All right, Andrew,” she murmured. “What is it?”

  “Well, I think you know I’ve grown very fond of you in the time you’ve been here, don’t you?”

  She nodded. “You’ve been very kind to me.”

  “That wasn’t difficult,” he smiled. “But when the cable came to say your father was ill and it seemed you would be leaving us—even for a short time—I knew I cared more for you than I’d realized. Then, when the possibility of your going forever arose—” his grip on her hand tightened “—well, then it was clear, even to a cautious Scot, that I loved you.” He turned to her and she saw depths of love and tenderness in his brown eyes.

  She looked away. Why must it be Andrew who was gazing at her with his heart in his eyes? If only it was Mark. But it was gentle Andrew. Must he be hurt as she had been? Oh, why were human emotions so wayward and contrary?

  Still watching her face he said, with an attempt at lightness, “Well, that’s what I wanted to tell you and I’ve done it.”

  “Dear Andrew,” she whispered, and searched for a way to answer him without hurting him. “I—”

  “Don’t say anything now, Kathie,” he interrupted. “Think about it. Remember that I love you very much, and that if you will be my wife, I’ll be happier than any man has a right to expect to be on earth, and, well, if it’s not blasphemy, I don’t think Heaven can hold much greater joy.”

  They sat in silence for a minute. Then Andrew stood up and helped Katherine to her feet. “We’d better get on our way if you really must do more work before dinner,” he said, picking up the bags.

  “I just have to fill in the babies’ weights on their case cards and a few little jobs like that. Do you know that Ika—she was born six weeks prematurely—weighs ten pounds four ounces?” she asked proudly.

  “That’s fine,” said Andrew. “I’m baptizing her on Sunday.” And they chatted about thei
r work for the rest of the journey.

  That night Katherine lay in bed thinking about Andrew’s proposal. It had not greatly surprised her. She had known for some time that he was becoming increasingly fond of her, but she had never considered how she would answer if he asked her to marry him. Now she must.

  Her first reaction had been to dismiss the idea at once as out of the question. Now she was not so sure. Mark did not want her and Andrew did. Ought she to turn away from such genuine affection as the young clergyman was offering her? She could make Andrew happy and be happy herself. She would have a home, a dear husband, children; but if she refused to marry Andrew, what was left for her? Only her work. She loved nursing, but she had never wanted to make it her whole life. And she was lonely. Why turn away the reality for the dream?

  But would it be fair to Andrew to marry him when another man’s touch could make her tremble, when the sound of another man’s voice could make her heart race?

  Sighing, she sat up and clasped her arms around her knees. It was no use trying to sleep until she had found the answers to some at least of the questions that kept rearing their perplexing heads. There was Mark—reserved, self-sufficient, a little aggressive, as her father had said; and there was Andrew—kind, gentle and uncomplicated.

  Picturing the two very different men in her mind she suddenly realized why she was having such difficulty deciding how to answer Andrew’s proposal. It was because she loved him! If she had not, there would have been no problem. Her love for Andrew was not the same as her feeling for Mark. Indeed, it was as different as moonlight is different from lightning.

  Moonlight and lightning. Which was best? The soft warm glow or the blinding flash?

  Having made that much progress she shook up her pillows and decided to leave the rest until the next day.

  She gave it a good deal of thought for several days without getting any nearer to a decision. She knew that Andrew would not press her for an answer, and before she gave him one she had to be quite certain. He was too nice to be hurt. Or to be hurt more than was absolutely unavoidable.

  She was still turning it over in her mind on her next afternoon off, sitting on the porch with her pen in her hand and a writing pad on her knee. She ought to be getting on with her newsletter for the vicar at home in Dinton instead of dreaming.

  “You look very busy,” said a deep voice. She looked up. It was Mark. For once he was not wearing his white coat. He had on a fawn short-sleeved bush jacket over shapeless fawn slacks.

  With a sigh of relief, he flopped into a low cane chair. “I’m taking an hour off,” he said, feeling in his pocket for his pipe. “All is peace at the hospital except for the usual afternoon symphony of snores. Don’t let me interrupt you, though. I’ll just have a quiet smoke if it doesn’t bother you.”

  “No. No, it doesn’t. Please do. I’m just trying to get my monthly newsletter done, but the boat won’t be in before tomorrow at the earliest.”

  At that moment shouts from the direction of the river made them look that way.

  “Something unusual seems to be happening,” said Mark, shading his eyes in an effort to see the cause of the excitement.

  “I think it’s a boat,” said Katherine. “Yes. I caught a glimpse of it through the trees. It’s a big canoe.”

  Mark jumped up, grabbing his sun helmet. “I wonder—Excuse me, Nurse,” and he ran down the steps and across to the landing stage.

  Katherine got up and went to stand by the porch railing. She could see the boat clearly now. As well as the boys, there was a pile of luggage, and at one end, under an improvised awning, sat a woman, her face hidden by a large shady hat. Who could it be? Andrew had said nothing about expecting a visitor. Did Mark know who it was? He had seemed excited as he ran from the porch.

  The boat, reached the landing stage. There was something vaguely familiar to Katherine about the tall, slender young woman who stepped gracefully from it. She was wearing a lime-green two piece suit and her hat was of the same color. Her hair was coppery red, and as she put her head back to smile dazzlingly at Mark, Katherine recognized her.

  It was Elizabeth Frayne—the beautiful doctor Mark loved and had wanted to marry. The reason for his coming to Africa. And now she was here.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Why had she come?

  Katherine could not see Mark’s face or hear their voices, but Elizabeth Frayne was laughing and talking animatedly to him as the boys unloaded her luggage. There was a lot of it. Evidently she intended staying some time, thought Katherine unhappily, and wondered if she could slip away to her room. But she was too late. The others were already coming toward her.

  When the newcomer reached the porch she removed her hat and shook back her shining, bright hair. Her skin was tanned to a warm gold, Katherine noticed, unable to suppress a slight feeling of envy mixed with annoyance. She herself was as pale as when she left England and her hair hung limply and lustreless in the damp heat. Dr. Frayne’s clothes were not even crumpled. Katherine knew she was being childish, but she told herself it did not seem fair. Beside this radiant creature she felt colorless and shy.

  Mark introduced them. He seemed bewildered, so he could not have been aware of the impending arrival of the woman he loved.

  Elizabeth Frayne smiled politely at Katherine before turning her attention back to Mark. Her dark eyebrows were delicately raised as she asked in puzzled amusement, “Why on earth did you come here, Mark darling?” She held out her hands in a gesture that embraced the shabby house, the rather amateurish-looking hospital, the scrawny hens pecking in the grass and the little groups of staring, half-naked villagers gathered about the steps. “I just couldn’t believe my eyes when I read about it in the paper,” she went on. “They gave you quite a good writeup and there was a photograph. In fact, if it had not been for that, I simply wouldn’t have connected it with you.”

  “I don’t really see why you should find it so hard to believe,” said Mark rather coolly.

  “Oh, come now, admit that this sort of adventure had no place in your scheme of things when we were both at the Grinsley General.”

  He looked away. “Perhaps my plans for the future did change rather suddenly,” he said bleakly, then adding more matter-of-factly, “but I don’t understand—you didn’t come here straight from England, surely?”

  “No. I’ve been working in a hospital in Lagos. I thought you knew. When I left Grinsley I felt I must have a complete change so I came to Nigeria. It was in Lagos that I read about you and your noble sacrifice—” her lovely face dimpled in a mischievous smile “—and the minute my contract was up I came to see for myself.”

  While they talked, Katherine stood a little apart from them, waiting for an opportunity to get away. It was awkward, as they were entirely absorbed in each other and seemed to have forgotten her presence. Taking a deep breath, she said diffidently, “If you’ll excuse me I’ll go across to the hospital.” She glanced at Mark. “I’ll start on the stock-taking, Doctor.”

  “Oh, don’t let me hold up the great work,” said Elizabeth Frayne mockingly, her green eyes appraising the other girl with mild interest.

  Katherine picked up her notebook and pen and walked slowly down the steps.

  When she had gone Mark asked, “Why didn’t you write and tell me you were coming, Elizabeth?”

  “I wanted it to be a surprise, darling,” she told him, adding petulantly, “You haven’t said you’re pleased to see me yet.”

  “Of course I’m pleased, and it’s certainly a surprise. To see you in that boat was the last thing in the world I expected. When I first saw the canoe I thought it was bringing a refrigerator I’ve been waiting for.”

  After a slight pause Elizabeth Frayne laughed. “Oh Mark! You’re wonderful! You haven’t changed a bit. You never were very good at making pretty speeches. I believe you’d have welcomed that fridge with open arms, whereas you’ve hardly looked at me.” She moved nearer to him, gazing up at him with confident eyes. “Are you
really disappointed that I’m not a refrigerator?”

  He smiled indulgently. “No, of course not. But we do need it desperately. As it is we can’t keep a supply of vaccine on hand for an emergency. There’s no electricity here, of course, so when I heard of this paraffin fridge going begging, I jumped at it.”

  “I’ll forgive you, if you’ll forget about your work for a few minutes,” she said. She walked to the end of the porch and looked toward the hospital. “Your little nurse didn’t seem overjoyed to see me,” she called over her shoulder. “You said she was at Grinsley too, didn’t you? You must have used all your considerable charm to persuade her to come to this Godforsaken place.”

  “Not at all.” Mark’s voice had an edge to it. “Persuasion was not necessary. Nurse Marlowe came here because there was useful work to be done—as any good nurse would have done.”

  Elizabeth Frayne turned and leaned gracefully against the corner post supporting the porch roof. “There must have been more to it than that,” she said knowingly. “Men make sacrifices for ideals, but women make them for people.”

  “Not always,” he murmured.

  His companion came quickly to him, putting her hands on his shoulders. “You mean, I once made a sacrifice for an ideal. You are right, Mark, and it was you I sacrificed.” Her voice was low and husky and her eyes misted with tears. “I ... I’ve regretted it ever since. I’m sorry I made you so unhappy, but I’ve been suffering too. It’s all over now, thank goodness. We can start again.”

  Mark Charlton’s handsome face was set and almost expressionless as he took her hands from his shoulders and said, “I’d better find our host or his sister. You must be tired and thirsty.”

  As he moved away she grasped his arm. “Never mind about that just now. I want to talk to you. You might offer me a cigarette, though.”