That reminded me of how much I was at present wasting. If only I had known where he was staying in Madrid I could have got a message to him.
Could I? Saying what, I asked myself. And if you had sent a message, supposing he had not answered it? What then? Take off after him? On your salary? When all this has already cost much more than you can afford?
I had told Señora Alvaro I was quite happy to be alone. I was not enjoying my own company at all.
Directly I finished eating I went out on the patio. I would have liked to have gone for a walk, but did not think I should without permission from my hostess. I could not sound out either of the maids on the subject as neither spoke a word of English.
Pepita appeared with a cane armchair, followed by Rosaria with two large cushions and a rug. Their gestures invited me to seat myself, and they then tucked me up as firmly as if I was a delicate invalid, with wide smiles and obvious ‘now-you-have-a-good-rest’ remarks.
I did not feel tired, but the sun, rug, lunch, and two disturbed nights combined to make me very sleepy very soon. I did not go right to sleep, but drifted in that pleasant place between sleep and wakefulness. I heard the girls chattering away in the house; then some time later the putt-putt of a scooter; then a man’s voice speaking rapid Spanish, and squeals from the girls that translated as coy in any language.
I wondered drowsily if the ladies of the household would approve, closed my eyes to show anyone looking that I was too dead asleep to hear a single thing, and that time went properly to sleep.
The noise of an engine woke me with a start. I felt I had slept hours, looked at my watch. It was only twenty minutes, and too early for the family to be back, as they had only been gone two hours. The engine had sounded more like a car than a scooter. It might be the doctor back for some reason, or perhaps another of the girls’ young men. I shut my eyes again, in case it was my host. I was very grateful to him, but found his heavy formality and halting English quite as much of a strain as I suspected he did me. The girls’ voices were much more subdued, yet much closer. I heard footsteps, pretended to be oblivious to the lot. La señorita inglesa was having a siesta from which she was incapable of being disturbed.
Then I heard the faint click even a stick with a rubber tip makes on stone. I jerked my eyes open. Joe was standing by me, leaning on his stick. Behind him, Pepita and Rosaria were beaming with delight.
He said drily, ‘This is a long way from Exmoor, Maggie.’
‘Joe!’ I sat up. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Feeling very much that this is where I came in.’
My heart was making the most abominable noise. It was a long time since I had stopped believing in fairy-tales, but he was there. ‘I thought you were in Madrid.’
‘I was.’
The girls produced another chair, then retreated to the house, giggling quietly. He said they had told him the family was out. ‘Luis drove me up from the village.’ He sat down, managing rather better than when I last saw him. He did not look better. He looked tired, on edge, and in what the last Sister Theatre used to describe as one of Mr de Winter’s silent-volcano moods. ‘Beware the fury of a patient man, my dear.’ I was too pleased to see him to bother with being wary. ‘He said you weren’t coming back.’
‘I didn’t intend to, until I heard from him that you were here.’ He produced cigarettes, and when I refused lit one for himself. ‘Well, Maggie? What’s the angle this time?’ He looked steadily at me. ‘I’m interested.’
‘I’ll tell you, when you’ve told me something first. How could Luis contact you?’ I demanded, to give myself just that much more time to get things under control! ‘He said he didn’t know your address.’
‘He didn’t. But as he had given me a list of possible hotels, he assumed rightly I might have checked in at one. They were all run by either relations of his or old pals. He wired one man with a message for me, asked him to spread the word. It got to my hotel while I was out last evening. I got back after midnight. I flew down to Malaga this morning, hired a car to bring me out to the village.’
‘Joe, I’m sorry you’ve had all this travelling ‒’
‘That doesn’t matter.’ He cut me short tersely. ‘Let’s get down to it, Maggie. Minus the tactful cotton wool.’
That night in Luis’s tavern I had felt my hands tied by my training. I had dealt gently with him, treated him as if he was a patient. That was the right technique with patients, but I suddenly realized how that must have jarred on him. He was too accustomed to nurses’ technique not to have seen through my act and not to have known that in using it I was turning him into something less than a man. An object for pity, sympathy, even love; but an object. In Barny’s we were trained to view our male patients that way, since otherwise nursing in a men’s ward would prove intolerable for nurses and patients. But I was not his nurse. I could not be sure what I was to him, yet his present hostility coming on top of all I had heard from Frances made me suspect I was possibly the last woman in the world he wanted as a nurse, for the same reason that he was the last man I would want as my doctor. So I hit back.
‘I’ve no intention of using any. Not that I would say you have any right to objections on that count, in view of the amount you have used on me.’
He stiffened. ‘I don’t follow you.’
‘You should. From what Frances Delaney told me …’ I repeated most of what that was. ‘I hope Mark squares things with Homer,’ I added, ‘but I would suspect even Mark’ll have a tough time talking the old man round. He won’t enjoy being fooled any more than I have.’ I let that sink in. ‘I never guessed you were such a good actor, Joe.’
His face tightened as if I really had hit him. ‘Frances had no right to do this to you!’
‘I don’t agree. It wasn’t her idea in the first place. She’s sick and tired of pretending. She wants Mark to risk that showdown. He wouldn’t do it while I was still in the dark.’
‘So she unburdened on you and heaved on to your shoulders a set of burdens that were not only hers to shed.’ He was very angry. ‘I can’t tell you how sorry I am you had to find out that side from her. I’m sorry you had to find out anything. I never wanted that to happen for a long time yet. I don’t hold with rushing in with news until one’s certain what the news is going to be. What I could do to Robbie and that woman!’ He shrugged. ‘What’s done is done. No use crying woe, woe.’
I was watching him very closely and growing slowly very happy. ‘Are you so jealous of your burdens, Joe?’
‘Why not? Since they belong to me.’
I let that go for the moment. There was something I had to say on that, but I had to have the right words. ‘Why didn’t you tell me the truth? Did you think I couldn’t stand it?’
‘No. One can stand anything when one has to. I simply didn’t see why you should have to.’
‘Sharing it might have helped.’
He lit another cigarette before answering. The afternoon had grown warmer. There was no breeze. He wasted three matches before he could keep one alight long enough to be any use. ‘Oh, yes. It might have helped to pull out all the emotional stops and let rip. That’s a big relief for the ripper,’ he said drily, ‘and hell for the person on the receiving end. I had to hurt you, Maggie. I wasn’t prepared to give you hell as well. Nor to let you do what you would have insisted on doing.’ He was silent for some seconds. ‘You must have it all added up.’ He sounded weary, defeated. ‘What are you going to do now?’
I had been asking myself that most of the last forty-odd hours, without finding the answer. Suddenly I knew, and the right words came unsought. ‘Nothing very much. I haven’t a lot of time. I have to go back to-morrow. A splendid man called MacDonald is calling to drive me back to Gib at twelve sharp. And as Señorita Alvaro has been quite fantastically kind to me and has had to rush off to a sick father-in-law, I can’t leave here until she gets back. You in any hurry?’
He shook his head as if uncertain he was hearing right. ‘
David isn’t expecting me. Any time I turn up will suit him. I told Luis I would probably get a lift down with Miguel when he brings back the family.’
‘Do you think the Señora would object if you took me out to dinner chez Luis? I’d like to hear that new piano.’
‘I doubt she’ll take exception to that. If that’s what you want to do? Just that? You’ve come all this way just to eat shrimps and tortillas!’
‘No. To see you. To tell you what I have to.’
‘And then go back?’
‘I must. I’m on duty Tuesday morning. It looks like being a tough day. The theatre needs me, is my responsibility. I could have got out of that as a staff nurse. Not a sister.’ I paused. ‘Which was why you made me take the job, wasn’t it?’
‘Yes.’ The tension had left his face. He even looked much less tired. He breathed as if he had been running. ‘Maggie. Thank you very much.’
‘For coming? Or for asking you to stand me a supper?’
‘Neither. No ‒ that’s not true. For both, and so much more. For what you haven’t asked. For what you are not going to do. Understand?’
‘Yes.’
We smiled at each other: the sword was back in its sheath and we were at peace. I had no need to tell him how much I still loved him, of the anxieties that remained unchanged, the fears lurking in the still shadowed future. He knew all that, just as I knew all about him. I knew him better now than I ever had even during those theatre years when we had been so close.
The last time we were together I had thought he needed comfort. That was because I had then been thinking with my emotions and not my head. To insist on sharing his burden, to stay and offer him comfort, would be to crush him under the greater twin burdens of gratitude and guilt at having another person so involved. It could do even worse damage. It could destroy the two things so vital to anyone in his present position. A white-hot motive for wanting to recover as best he could as soon as possible, and his self-respect. I loved him. So I left him as I had said. He saw me off at Gibraltar. We did not discuss what he was going to do when he left me then, or when he was back in London.
On the drive, Mr MacDonald clearly assumed Joe’s return had been delayed for some reason, but was as clearly well satisfied with the general situation and beamed on us like a grizzled Cupid. At the airport he asked Joe to be sure to let him know when the Señorita came back, as he, Joe, knew that with him the Señorita would be looked after real good. ‘You will be together again soon, eh?’
Joe said, ‘We hope so.’ He looked at me, and I felt I was in his arms.
The taxi driver considered us both, then used the same words Señora Alvaro had used last evening about her father-in-law’s chances of getting over his mild stroke. ‘Hope is a candle that cannot burn out because it is lit by the Hand of God. We will see you back soon, Señorita, eh?’
Chapter Twelve
SISTER THEATRES DO NOT FAINT
On Tuesday afternoon George Ellis came into the theatre ahead of Sir Robert to warn me the old man was in a filthy temper. ‘If I don’t have an ulcer before the day ends it’ll be a something miracle.’ He began scrubbing up, then glanced over his shoulder. ‘Of course! You’ve been away, Sister. Good time?’
‘Yes, thanks, Mr Ellis.’ I smiled rather wryly behind my mask. My holiday had so altered my whole attitude to life that I felt I must have altered physically. I half expected questions on that score, and certainly about my trip with Sir Robert. I had forgotten how long a fortnight is in the life of a hospital, and how wrapped up everyone in a hospital is in the affairs of their own department. Even Wendy, though very interested in all I had to tell her, could hardly wait to tell me about the latest crisis in Henry Carter. ‘… my dear, those stitches just gave while I watched. The man’s viscera just welled out through the wound. Our new houseman was taking notes across the ward. He had never seen an abdominal wound burst before ‒ my dear! He wanted to push the lot back! As I told Mr Swan, I had to be very stern with the boy to stop him doing more damage. Naturally, all we did was cover everything with sterile towels, give him a shot for shock, and pack him down to the theatre in his bed. But really, Maggie! How some of these young men manage to get themselves qualified is beyond me! That boy hadn’t the intelligence one would expect in a pre-clinical student!’
The list was a long one. Mark was anaesthetizing. He gave me a guarded smile when he came in with the first patient. Wendy had not mentioned him last night, so I guessed he had not yet had his showdown with Dr Homer.
Sir Robert growled throughout the afternoon. Our dressers changed each Tuesday. One of the new boys, after hours of standing doing nothing, backed against a wall. Sir Robert glanced up and happened to notice. ‘Hey! Yes, you, boy! Something wrong with your legs?’
The dresser sprang to attention. ‘No, sir.’
‘That’s good. They can carry you out of this theatre. Get on, boy! Out! Up to the gallery! This is an operating theatre, not a street corner! I’ll have no lounging around in here! Out! fast!’
The poor boy scuttled off, his face scarlet above his mask. George Ellis caught my eye as Sir Robert continued to mutter into his mask on the problems of a surgeon who had to try to teach surgery to a set of lazy layabouts who couldn’t even take the trouble to stand on their own feet.
A new junior had taken Nurse Alcott’s place during my absence. She was being taught how to ‘dirty’ by Dolly Bachelor. A little later she dropped a small kidney dish as she removed it from a sterilizer with bowl forceps.
‘Good God, Sister!’ snapped Sir Robert ‘Do we have to have this constant clattering and banging? How am I supposed to concentrate, eh?’
‘I’m so sorry, Sir Robert. It was an accident.’
‘Ye don’t think I thought the gel was throwing things on purpose, do ye? I don’t know.’ He looked round at my trolley, scowling. ‘That silk ye’re about to give me, Sister? Why can’t I have nylon?’
I did not remind him that on the last occasion when he had done that specific operation at that point he had stated a preference for silk. I had the necessary nylon in reserve. I rethreaded the needle quickly. ‘I’m sorry, Sir Robert.’
Later, I heard the new girl ask Bachelor, ‘Is he always like he was this afternoon, Nurse?’
‘Oh, no,’ replied Dolly cheerfully. ‘Sometimes he gets really tough.’
Later still I was in the duty-room checking through the off-duty rota with Ellen Watt, when Sir Robert appeared in the doorway. ‘Can ye spare me a minute, Sister?’
Ellen vanished tactfully. He came in, shutting the door behind him. ‘Well? Have a good trip?’
‘Yes, thank you, Sir Robert.’
‘Hm.’ He looked me over. ‘Am I right in assuming we may shortly expect your resignation?’
‘No. At least ‒ I’ve no plans that would entail that at present.’
He leaned against my desk. ‘That so, eh? Hm. Can’t say I’m sorry. Never could stomach unnecessary changes in my theatre. Ruins the concentration.’ Suddenly he smiled. ‘Should have guessed ye’d be a sensible gel! Well, I can’t hang around gossiping like this. I’ve got work to do.’
Mark came into my duty-room very early next morning to tell me he had asked Dr Homer for an interview, to talk about Joe, and to apologize. ‘How do I do that, darling?’
‘By skipping it ‒ and Joe. I don’t want to talk. You know Frances rang me last night? And she’s going to keep me in touch.’ I smiled. ‘Good luck with Homer.’
‘And, by God, I’ll need it, angel.’ He blew me a kiss. Dolly Bachelor went down the corridor just then, and gave him such an old-fashioned look that I suggested it might be as well if we gave the grapevine a little to buzz over in advance. ‘I don’t believe Joe would now mind. Wendy Scutt knows the truth. There’s no need to go the whole hog, but just tell a couple of people I was with him on my holiday and he’s now in Martha’s. No one’ll be allowed to bother him, and the story should smooth a few rough edges.’
‘Maggie, me darling
,’ he said, ‘if I wasn’t a married man, for this I would marry you myself!’
I never asked Mark what he had said, but that evening Wendy told me the entire Sisters’ Home had got hold of the story. ‘Needless to say, my dear, they all knew! They just knew there was more in Mr de Winter’s resigning than met the eye!’
Ellen had gone away that evening for two days off. When she got back the grapevine had already lost interest in Joe and myself and was buzzing with Mark’s marriage, inevitable resignation, and obvious ruin. It came as something not far removed from a disappointment, despite Mark’s genuine popularity, when the hospital discovered that although Dr Homer had not been best pleased, he had admitted that in view of the improved quality of Mark’s recent work, Dr Delaney must be the exception to prove his rule. The hospital consoled itself by making corny jokes along the ‘even-Homer-sometimes-nods’ line.
Mark told me it just proved how much ‘Hearts’ resembled St Paul. ‘No doubt he agrees it is better to marry than to burn, and one M. Delaney is a highly inflammable type. You don’t know how I wish I’d had the guts to get this over before, Maggie.’
‘You couldn’t do that. Because of Joe and me.’
‘Nor I could! I feel much better! A hero, no less!’ He turned serious. ‘Isn’t this the day? Any news?’
I shook my head. ‘I don’t expect or want any until Frances rings to-night. Buckwell should have done him by now. He was first on the afternoon list. He shouldn’t yet be round. News now would have to be bad.’
He looked at the clock. ‘True. You off this evening? Frances is working. Let’s go out for a drink. I’m not on call.’
‘Nor me. Thanks, Mark. I’m off at six.’
At ten to six Bill Swan rang me from Casualty. ‘We’ve got a man here with a busted aneurysm. Chest. Branch of the thoracic aorta. He got jammed against the shaft of his steering-wheel. There’s no time to get the automatic-heart boys. He needs corking fast. The S.C.O.’s doing a boy-in-the-dyke. His thumb’ll have to stay where it is until we get this man under. Coming up now, as he is.’
The New Sister Theatre Page 20
