To Please the Doctor

by Marjorie Moore

  “Good morning.” Harriet put down the morning paper as she rose to greet her friend. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am about last night. You did understand, didn’t you? I moved heaven and earth to get back, but I couldn’t make it.”

  “Naturally I understand,” Jill answered reassuringly. “It was bad luck, but it couldn’t be helped.”

  Harriet linked her arm through Jill’s and led her towards the dining-room. “Let’s have breakfast. I’m longing for a coffee; we can talk while we are eating.” She seated herself at the round polished table and flicked a serviette across her knees. “Now, Jill, help yourself. I can’t be a good hostess at this hour of the morning.”

  Jill did as she was bidden and began to feel a little more confident under the warming influence of hot, strong coffee. “What time am I due at St. Joseph’s? You’ll take me there, won’t you?”

  “Of course. I told Matron we’d be along about eleven. She wondered if you could start your work at two, we are terribly short-handed and things are so muddled. Sister Wilks left last week and the place is all at sixes and sevens.” Harriet buttered a piece of toast and spread it with marmalade. “Strange that you and Duncan should have met last night—rather helpful, really.” The statement was made in such a doubtful tone that it sounded more like a query.

  “He didn’t realize who I was,” Jill announced, and aware of her companion’s surprise, amended: “I told him my name, of course, but that meant nothing to him. I didn’t see why I should enlighten him, he’ll know soon enough,” she ended a trifle grimly.

  “He will be surprised.” Harriet gave her deep laugh, then added more seriously, and not without a hint of anxiety in her tone: “You liked him really, didn’t you? I know he has a brusque manner, but underneath has a heart of gold; his abruptness is all part of his character, that’s all.”

  “The man is insufferably uncouth and you know it! No, don’t interrupt me,” she insisted as Harriet ventured a protest. “I know all about his brilliant career, his patience with the children, and all the rubbish you spilled last night. Still, the fact remains that as a social asset he is a dead loss!” Her dimpled smile took the sting from her words.

  Harriet found herself laughing too. “I suppose you are right, but honestly he is much nicer when you know him; he is absurdly ill at ease with strangers, and I think his gruff attitude is a shield to cover his own discomfiture. I admit I found him difficult at first, but now we are the best of friends. I had an uphill job, too; I started at a terrible disadvantage. He loathed the idea of a woman assistant, and I had to fight against terrific odds.” She smiled reminiscently. “It’s marvellous the way he has accepted the idea.”

  “He certainly spoke with respect—almost admiration—of your qualities.” Jill pushed back her cup and lit a cigarette. “If he ever finds it in his heart to sing my praises as he does yours I’d think myself honoured.”

  “He is going to like you.” Harriet announced. Then, as Jill burst into a peal of laughter, she went on: “No, don’t laugh, I understand Duncan and I know what I’m saying. There is one thing he admires above all things, and that’s efficiency and ability—he likes to be able to depend upon people. I’m not flattering myself, but you know that I can be relied on. I do put all I’ve got into my job.”

  Jill nodded. “I know that’s true, but that isn’t any reason why he should take to me.”

  “You don’t have to work, and unless you loved your job you wouldn’t. I know enough about you to realize just how keen you must be; efficiency, well, that naturally follows. Harriet paused then continued thoughtfully: You’ll win his respect in the same way as I have. You’ve the character and ability to stand up to him which you’ll find most helpful.” Harriet folded her serviette and laid it beside her plate, then rising, led the way back to the lounge. Seating herself in the armchair she queried. “By the way, where did you fix him up last night. Did you manage to find sheets and things?”

  “Yes, I gave him bed-linen,” Jill admitted. “But he was so damn rude I told him he could make shift for himself—according to Mrs. Sidons, he ended up in the armchair.”

  For a second Harriet seemed aghast, then suddenly she burst into a peal of laughter. “Jill, my dear!” Gradually her laughter subsided and she exclaimed. “What a beginning! Here am I trying to give you advice—telling you—you of all people, to stand up to him!”

  “That’s not all,” Jill confessed. “You spoke of efficiency; you ought to have seen the meal I produced! It was scarcely eatable; that electric stove of yours simply left me stunned. You watch his face when I’m presented to him as the new Sister!”

  “At least it has its humorous side.” Harriet admitted. “That’s one good thing about Duncan, he does possess a sense of humour. You must admit that’s a saving grace.”

  “Somewhat warped humour.” Jill spoke softly and the words were hardly audible to her companion. Raising her tone, she continued: “My uniform is in the trunk I sent to hospital. I’ll have to turn up in mufti and change there.”

  Harriet’s presence was certainly a comfort to Jill as they journeyed in the former’s car to St. Joseph’s. The mist of the previous evening had completely cleared, and Jill was able to see for the first time something of the district in which Harriet’s house was situated and the countryside which separated it from Sunsand Bay. The outside of the house, finished in white stucco with small, mullioned windows, had a certain charm; but the surrounding countryside was flat and ploughed fields led down to the edge of the low overhanging cliffs, which levelled out, as they neared the town, into the flat promenade which Jill had glimpsed upon arrival. Small old-fashioned apartment houses flanked the long line of sea front, at the end of which stood a large hotel badly in need of a coat of paint, but which at least boasted a garden stretching down to the shore, and a cluster of huts which, in the season, were doubtless part of a private beach. Sunsand, of which Jill could see but a huddle of grey roofs, sloped upward from the sea and was dominated by an enormous and imposing church spire. Turning off from the front the car began to climb the hill which Jill could remember descending from the station, and then quite unexpectedly, the hospital came into view. Jill couldn’t imagine how she had missed it on her arrival. She must have been hunting for that illusive bay since the group of buildings in modern red brick was far too outstanding not to have caught her attention.

  As Harriet had explained, St. Joseph’s, unlike the hospitals where she had worked in London, consisted of a series of buildings comprising various wards and departments. A wide drive curved between well-kept lawns to the main entrance to which they were now heading. Jill, as she alighted from the car, was impressed with the well-planned precision of the general layout, and as she turned to see more of her surroundings she was agreeably surprised to see how high they had climbed beyond the town a turn in the road had blotted out completely those hideous roof-tops, and an unbroken vista of cliff and sea lay before her eyes. Despite the chilly wind which billowed round her, Jill was exhilarated by the salty tang on her lips and the vast sweep of the sea as far as her eyes could see.

  Jill had always considered that an interview with any hospital matron was reminiscent of schooldays. Matron, this morning, had exactly the same effect, and lowering her eyes she was surprised not to find pigtails hanging from her shoulders and black woollen stockings showing beneath a gym slip. Not that she wasn’t most kind, and as affable as she had been at the original interview, but there was something about the demeanour of every matron which produced that particular effect on her. Harriet, having seen Jill safely in charge of the Home sister hurried off to her own work with a promise that they’d meet again in the ward after lunch. With some trepidation Jill followed her escort from the main building across the sloping lawn to the Sister’s Home; it appeared on the exterior to be pleasantly modern, but Jill still harboured a pang of anxiety concerning her own quarters. She need not have worried: the room to which the Home Sister led her was far better than the quarters she h
ad had in London. With a pleasant smile and a hope that she would find everything to her liking, the Sister left her with a promise that by the time she had unpacked and got into uniform she’d send a nurse from the Children’s Annexe to introduce her to what would be her future domain.

  Left alone, Jill let her eyes wander round the room. It was indeed pleasant. It lacked the homely touches which she would gradually provide, but at least it was freshly painted with adequate cupboard room and a concealed basin, and throwing open the window she looked out on a stretch of pleasant garden and over the tops and between the bare branches of the trees, the sea, with its white-crested waves stretched out to meet the grey horizon.

  Her trunk was unpacked and hidden away and she was ready dressed in her uniform when a tap on the door heralded the arrival of her next escort. The girl who entered the room stared at Jill with obvious interest and, when she spoke, made no secret of her surprise at what she saw. “You are quite young, aren’t you?”

  Jill was quick to note the underlying tone of resentment, almost amounting to hostility in the newcomer’s voice, her experience in dealing with staff immediately put her on her guard. “Not so very young. But do tell me, did you expect someone really ancient?” she asked with a laugh.

  “Not exactly,” the other girl replied, in no way mollified by Jill’s friendly tone. “Sister Wilks—whose place you are filling—was considerably older, and as you’d come from a London hospital, well ...” Her words trailed away as she dismissed the subject. “I’m Nurse Malling, Brenda Malling; I’m senior on the ward. I’ve been deputy Sister this week as we haven’t had anyone.”

  “Oh, I see.” Jill certainly did see a lot more than she was willing to express. It seemed obvious that this girl had hoped to fill the vacancy left by Sister Wilks, and naturally resented a girl, if anything younger than herself, stepping into the post. “I am sure you are going to be a tremendous help. My name is Jill Fernley, and I do hope we are going to be great friends.

  Brenda Malling was apparently finding the new Sister’s friendly attitude somewhat disarming, but she still showed no inclination to be drawn. “Shall I take you over now or would you rather have lunch first?”

  “That’s entirely up to you, whichever you think better,” Jill assured her.

  “There won’t be a ward round until about two, better lunch first,” Nurse Malling stated indifferently. “Come on, I’ll show you the way.”

  In spite of the curious glances sent in her direction, Jill managed to enjoy her meal and even her companion’s detached bearing didn’t spoil her appetite. It seemed that Nurse Malling was also going to present a problem, but that didn’t worry Jill overmuch. She’d always found a way of handling the most difficult nurses and winning them round in the end. After some consideration she wondered whether the direct method of attack wasn’t going to be the best approach with Brenda Malling. Instilling a note of kindly interest into her voice, she began: “I imagine it’s been rather disappointing for you that you haven’t taken over Sister Wilks’ post?”

  Momentarily taken aback, the other girl hesitated, then, accepting the challenge, replied. “Naturally it should have been offered me. It would have been if Miss Laine hadn’t mentioned your name.” She shut her lips firmly and it was clear that she did not intend to enlarge further on the subject.

  Ten minutes later, followed her along to the Children’s Annexe she realized, not without some dismay, that Nurse Malling wasn’t going to be easy to tackle. She was, in a way, an attractive girl, dark, with a clear olive skin and small features, but there was a hard line to the well-shaped mouth which filled Jill with apprehension. The future loomed pretty dark if, besides Dr. McRey’s unfriendliness, she also had to cope with a difficult Staff Nurse.

  “This is your room,” Brenda Malling announced briefly, throwing open the door of a small room to the left of the entrance corridor. “That’s our own X-ray department opposite, kitchen, wash-room, and the ward bathrooms; that’s the ward through the double doors at the end.”

  Jill was too intent upon studying the room which would be the sanctum of all her working hours to be aware of the latter part of her escort’s statement. It was a well-equipped room, one side entirely devoted to built-in cupboards, while opposite the door a wide window looked across the grounds to the main gates. The simple furnishings were ample, too, but the whole room looked such a complete muddle that for a moment she was entirely bereft of speech. Those adequate cupboards must surely be quite empty, otherwise how could one account for the piles of books on the window-sill, the armchair stacked high with white coats and the miscellaneous collection of articles which lay strewn on the desk. Unconsciously she closed her eyes and visualized Sister’s Office at her last post, the orderliness, the businesslike arrangement of every item. She could never, never work in this mess! Without even considering her words, she found herself expressing her thoughts. “What an awful pigsty! Is it always like this? Surely Sister Wilks didn’t tolerate this muddle?”

  “She seemed quite satisfied,” Brenda Malling announced shortly. “I haven’t used the place at all; it hardly seemed worthwhile, as I only deputized for a week.”

  “Of course, I realize that it’s not your fault,” Jill hastened to soften her words as she advanced further into the room. “I expect it can all be cleared a bit, but there isn’t room to move.” She pointed to the coats, some folded and one or two thrown carelessly over the back of the chair. “To whom do these belong? Isn’t there a proper place for staff coats?”

  “Dr. McRey always puts his there; he never bothers with the linen cupboard in the passage.”

  “And all this litter?” Jill indicated an untidy pile of notes on the desk.

  “Oh, they are his too.” There was a note of malicious enjoyment in Brenda Malling’s voice which didn’t escape her companion. “I’d better leave you to sort things out, they’ll be here for the round soon, so I’ll get along to the ward.”

  Jill was in no mood to “sort things out,” as her senior nurse had put it. She felt she’d need to take a few deep breaths before she’d even know where to start, but before she had time to get unduly concerned, Nurse Malling reappeared in the doorway.

  “Sister Fernley—here is our Resident M.O., Dr. Traven. He has come over to meet you.” Jill was surprised to see how her smile, when she turned to usher the young doctor into the room, transformed her whole face, the sullenness had entirely gone and her expression was one of delightful animation. “Here, sir, come in, this is our new Sister—”

  The rest of her sentence was abruptly interrupted as the young doctor advanced towards Jill with a beaming smile, his hand outstretched in welcome. “Well—I’m jiggered! If it isn’t Jill Fernley! This is marvellous, gosh! I am glad to see you.”

  While Jill felt her hand wrung with more enthusiasm than consideration for flesh and bone, she was deeply conscious of Brenda Malling’s obvious surprise; it wasn’t pleasurable surprise either, and taken unaware, she had done nothing to conceal the resentment she must have felt at this friendly meeting. Of course it was absurd, Jill argued. There was surely nothing to resent in the fact that she and Philip Traven were already well known to, one another.

  “What ages since we met!” Philip Traven went on eagerly, quite unaware of Jill’s conflicting thoughts or of Nurse Malling’s obvious resentment. “I was still a student, wasn’t I? I know you were a pro. What good times we had in those days. It’s grand seeing you again, you must tell me all about everything, the old gang. Do you ever hear anything of them these days?” he went on eagerly, scarcely giving Jill time to get her breath or to attempt any reply. “So you are a full-blown Sister now. How does it feel? I’ve been qualified quite a time, but I have never forgotten all the fun I had as a student.”

  “It certainly is odd seeing you again.” Jill managed at last to get a word in. “With hundreds of strange faces around, I must admit it’s nice to find an old friend.”

  “You’ve said it!” he retorted with enthus
iasm, then as he was about to continue his discourse the sudden entry of Harriet Laine interrupted him. “I suppose I’d better get off, but don’t forget Jill, we must get together soon and have a chat. I’ll pop in later and fix something.”

  “An old friend?” Harriet, pushing the piled coats on one side seated herself on the corner of the chair.

  “He was a student during my first year’s training. I’m glad he has gone on so well, he was awfully nice.” It was a relief to find herself alone with Harriet. Taking advantage of the opportunity Jill went on, “Never mind Philip Traven for the moment, there seems to be heaps of things I want to ask you First of all, that Nurse—what’s her name, Malling—my senior Nurse. I believe she is terribly antagonistic. I’m going to have an awful job with her.”

  “Worse than you think,” Harriet began ominously. “If you pinch her best boyfriend, Dr. Traven, there’ll be murder!”

  “Good heavens! So that is the explanation of the black looks! She was bad enough before. She has been frigid since the moment she set eyes on me. I had hopes of thawing her in time, but I see it’s not going to be as easy as I’d hoped.”

  “She is just a silly girl,” Harriet went on, but her kindly tone belied her words. “She made a dead set at Traven from the moment he arrived. How he feels about her I don’t know, but a little competition won’t do her any harm,” she added with a laugh.

  “You are very consoling,” Jill sighed. “I thought I had enough to cope with in Dr. McRey. Between the two of them I feel like throwing up the sponge before going into the ring.”

  “To think that I backed your appointment as much on your fighting qualities as on your nursing ability.” Harriet sighed with exaggerated disappointment. “Jill, you are slipping badly. I thought I could rely on you.” She instilled a note of deep hurt into her voice. “I believe you are scared.”