A Ward Door Opens: A touching 1950s hospital romance (The Anniversary Collection Book 7)

by Lucilla Andrews

  ‘Couldn’t be better,’ I tried to sound as enthusiastic as when we had last discussed this.

  ‘I’m so looking forward to it. Uncle Jock wants to discuss the route with you. I expect he’ll do it once we’re on our way.’ She hugged her good knee. ‘He wondered if we go over Salisbury Plain.’

  ‘We do ‒ and we pass Stonehenge.’

  Dr. Cameron came up for his round much later than usual; it was nearly a quarter-to-twelve, and both Mr. Yates and Mr. Sandley had come and gone. He greeted Standing pleasantly, but his expression in repose seemed to me strained, even anxious. I could not understand it at all, when she seemed so happy. I went along to the clinical room to fold the soiled linen. I was half-way through when I thought I heard the fire-escape door open. As I looked out to see, George stepped gingerly into the corridor.

  I waved a pillow-case wildly at him. ‘George! Are you nuts? Go away quickly! The rounds are still on and ‒’ I could not say more as at that instant we saw the flash of a white coat appearing from one of the rooms at the far end of the corridor.

  George leapt into the shelter of the clinical room with the light-footed agility he had learnt on the rugger fields. There had simply not been time for him to go back through the escape door. He stood poised just inside the door, and stared at me helplessly. I shook out my pillow-case, as if I had drifted out into the corridor to have more elbow room, then went in after him. Out of the corner of my eye I had seen Standing and Dr. Cameron strolling slowly towards the duty-room. I held my breath hoping they would stop there. They did.

  ‘George, what are you doing here?’ I whispered desperately. ‘Have you gone crazy?’

  ‘What’s this in aid of, this letter to Avis?’ he demanded.

  One glance at the closely written letter he was flapping in my face was enough to show me what I had done. I had put the wrong letter in the envelope. I opened my mouth to explain, then shut it quickly as we heard the S.M.O. say, ‘Don’t bother to see me out, Nurse. I’d like a word with your junior if I may? I want to get some idea of our itinerary tomorrow, before I start.’

  George slapped his forehead soundlessly, as Standing answered, ‘I’m sure you do. It’s some distance, I believe. You’ll find Nurse Blakney in the clinical room.’

  ‘Window,’ I mouthed. ‘Quickly!’ I hauled a bath towel from a pile and took it out into the corridor, as if it needed shaking out, too. I pushed the door half-shut behind me. I did not dare to shut it properly, as that might look too odd. Dr. Cameron was coming towards me. He stopped a few feet from the clinical room. If I could hold him for only a couple of minutes, George could squeeze out of the window and drop on to the fire-escape stairs that ran directly beneath. If he moved fast ‒ and I was sure he would ‒ he could be down the first flight of stairs and round the sheltering corner of the block before the S.M.O. opened the official door.

  ‘Was my niece able to tell you that we hope to get away by three-thirty tomorrow, Nurse Blakney? I hope that will be convenient to you?’

  ‘Yes, thank you. That will be fine, thank you,’ I said nervously, repeating myself.

  ‘Good.’ He nodded unsmilingly. ‘Can you give me some idea of the best route?’

  ‘Out of London by the Great West Road’ ‒ (my heart seemed to jump into my mouth, as I heard the rarely used window squeak) ‒ ‘then we turn off just before Basingstoke ‒ at least, I’m pretty certain it’s Basingstoke,’ I added hastily. I knew the road to my home backwards, but was far too rattled to be able to think clearly. ‘We don’t have to get to ‒ I mean have to go through ‒ any big towns. We do have to go over the Plain and then take the Marlborough road.’

  He was not listening to me. From his expression he had heard the second squeak that told me George had closed the window after him. In an icy voice he said, ‘One-moment, please, Nurse,’ and walked swiftly into the clinical room. It was empty, but the latch of the window was hanging loose, because it could only be closed from the inside. He pushed open the window and looked out and down, then shut it very slowly. ‘I thought I heard someone getting out of this just now, Nurse. Did I?’

  I hesitated, realising just what this meant and what it would cost George as well as me.

  He said tersely, ‘Before you decide to deny anything, Nurse, may I suggest you look at that china shelf? It seems you are not the only person who rashly uses it as a step-ladder. But that footprint is not yours. It’s a man’s large footprint.’

  I only had to glance at the china shelf to know that argument was useless. I took a deep breath, ‘Yes, Dr. Cameron.’

  ‘So there was someone in here? Visiting you?’ His eyes were cold and hard as blue diamonds. ‘And you permitted it? Despite what I said to you on the last occasion?’

  I could not answer him. I was too scared. I had thought him very annoyed that time in the duty-room but he had looked nothing like he did now. A stray saying flashed unasked through my mind. Beware the wrath of a patient man. I knew he was very patient; I could see he was very angry.

  ‘Well, Nurse? Am I right? I would be grateful for an answer,’ he said with frigid civility.

  I took a deep breath to steady myself. It did not seem to have much effect. ‘Yes, Dr. Cameron.’

  ‘Was your visitor one of our students?’

  It took all the courage I possessed to meet his eyes and say the only thing I could say. George was my oldest friend in the hospital, a school friend of my brothers, on the verge of qualifying. If I allowed any suspicion to fall on him, I could ruin his career and future. ‘I don’t remember.’

  A muscle twitched high in his left cheek. ‘I see. I presume your memory has also failed you in another direction. You seem to have forgotten the previous occasion upon which I had to speak to you of a similar occurrence, and the warning I gave you that there must be no repetition. Right?’

  ‘No. I haven’t forgotten.’

  ‘You merely chose to ignore it?’ His voice was ominously quiet. ‘I’m afraid you have made a grave mistake there, Nurse Blakney. I was not offering you advice; I was giving you a specific instruction. I am not in the habit of allowing my instructions to be disregarded, or of permitting the rules of this hospital to be broken with impunity. I asked you a question, Nurse. I want an honest answer ‒ and an explanation.’

  I looked up at him. ‘I’m sorry. I haven’t one.’

  ‘You mean you refuse to answer?’

  His expression made me flinch inwardly, but I could see no alternative to the reply I would have to make. ‘Yes, Dr. Cameron.’

  ‘You prefer me to draw my own conclusions?’ He considered me grimly. ‘Don’t you appreciate the position you have put me in?’

  I could not fail to understand what lay behind his words. ‘Yes. I’m sorry.’

  ‘Are you?’ he queried drily. ‘I would like to believe you, Nurse. I accepted your previous apology. It appears I was in error. I’m afraid I can’t risk making the same error again. If I do, there’ll be a third occasion ‒ even a fourth. You seem totally devoid of any sense of responsibility, or duty. You regard Jude’s as a place where you can do precisely what you please ‒ and get away with it. No doubt you consider it highly amusing to have students call on you illicitly, and climb from windows to fire-escapes? I take it you feel it is all in the best romantic tradition? But this is a hospital, not a film set; and hospitals, as I’ve told you before, are no places for irresponsible children. While I cannot fail to appreciate your attempt to protect his name, Nurse,’ he added sardonically, ‘I feel I should tell you that such heroics do little to assist your present predicament. A simple explanation would not have provided you with an excuse, but it would have served you better. I’m afraid you are leaving me no alternative, Nurse. In view of what happened before, I cannot overlook ‒’ He broke off as the duty-room telephone bell rang suddenly. ‘I expect that’s for me. I’ll have to deal with you later.’ He stepped past me and walked back to the duty-room.

  I leant against the china shelf and absently rubbed
off George’s footprint with the bath towel I was still clutching. Then I did something I had not done all the time I had been in Jude’s. I burst into tears.

  ‘Goodness gracious!’ I did not know Standing was there until she touched my arm. ‘What’s wrong, Blakney?’

  I mopped my eyes quickly, feeling too miserable to be embarrassed. ‘I’m so sorry, Nurse. It’s nothing, just ‒’

  ‘Just something that you’d rather not tell me? Never mind,’ she said very gently. ‘Don’t attempt to explain. Everyone has to weep once in a while. Dry your eyes, and try to take a grip. Night Sister wants to speak to you on the telephone about your night off.’ She looked at me kindly and straightened my cap. ‘That’s better. Dr. Cameron is in the duty-room but he won’t notice you.’

  Night Sister wanted to ask me if it would upset any plans if my nights off were curtailed to one night. ‘Nurse Gavin is unable to return for a few days,’ she said. ‘Her mother has just developed acute appendicitis and Nurse has to remain in charge at home, temporarily, as Mrs. Gavin is a widow. Matron has agreed to grant Nurse Gavin compassionate leave, but is unable to spare me any day-nurse to take her place, so I would be grateful if you could return to duty on Wednesday night. I will make up the time owing to you later.’

  I said I would be quite happy to do so, wondering what she would say when Dr. Cameron spoke to her about me, and whether I would be back anywhere in Jude’s after tonight.

  Standing came in with a tea-tray as I replaced the receiver. ‘Your nights off being altered, Nurse?’

  I glanced at Dr. Cameron’s bent head as I explained. He did not look up.

  ‘That’s bad luck,’ she said, setting the tray on the desk. ‘Weren’t you hoping to go home? Will you be able to get back in time on Wednesday morning, to be in bed by three?’

  He straightened and turned slowly as I answered huskily, ‘If I leave very early. It’s rather a cross country journey by train.’

  ‘You won’t get much rest that way. You’ll need your rest after the rush we have just had, and the rush we are due to have on Wednesday night. We have four operations scheduled for that afternoon.’ She glanced at Dr. Cameron, as she added thoughtfully, ‘I’m sorry your nights off are going to be spoilt, but I’ll be glad to have a permanent junior on with me that night. It makes a considerable difference, not having to show someone round when one is busy.’

  ‘Yes, Nurse.’ I did not look his way. She did not say any more, so I fled back to the clinical room. I was astonished and touched to see a steaming cup of tea waiting for me on the china shelf. I nearly wept again. She was being so kind; she would be so disappointed when she learnt how I had let her down.

  Ten minutes later I heard Dr. Cameron’s footsteps coming back. I stiffened as he stopped in the doorway. ‘I may as well finish what I was saying when we were interrupted, Nurse. I can’t allow you, or anyone else, to go on breaking the hospital rules at will.’ He waited, as if he expected me to say something. I had nothing to say. I knew he had to take this line.

  ‘I was considering the various possibilities open to me, when Night Sister called you,’ he went on. ‘This temporary night staff shortage makes it difficult for me to come to a decision. I don’t want to accentuate the shortage, and although none of us is indispensable, I gather from what Nurse Standing said that your presence here on Wednesday night will be a comfort to the patients, and considerable help to her. Which puts me in a quandary. I dislike procrastinating, but can see no alternative if the patients are not to suffer. Do I make myself clear? There’s one other thing I may as well mention, Nurse. About tomorrow. I imagine you want to visit your home?’

  I looked up quickly, wondering if he was going to cancel everything because of my behaviour. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Then you had better come back in my car tomorrow night. You can’t spend two-thirds of Wednesday changing trains and then work on, after only one night off. I should be back by eleven-thirty.’ He inclined his head and moved from the doorway and, for the first time in our acquaintance, walked off without bothering to say good night.

  Chapter Seven

  Directly Dr. Cameron had gone, I decided that in the morning I would make some excuse to Fiona and not go home. I would telephone my mother and say I had a cold, a special date, anything. But as the dawn came, I knew I would not be able to make any excuses. I liked Fiona too much to disappoint her after all the trouble she had taken to arrange things for my free time. I could not worry my mother over my health, or hurt her feelings by pretending that there was any date I preferred to going home. So the only thing I could do was go home as arranged, talk to my mother or perhaps my brother, Dave, warn the family what might be going to happen to me, and then face the dreadful journey back with Dr. Cameron.

  I skipped breakfast that morning. It was permissible for me to do so, as I was off-duty. I hurried back to the Home to avoid the other girls, and the square figure of George waiting by Miss Nightingale’s statue. I spotted him from the far end of the corridor, turned and walked in the other direction. I wanted to talk to him badly, but not in the hospital grounds. I did not want anyone to see us together on today of all days.

  As I hoped, he rang the Home a few minutes after my return. ‘Maggie, what are you playing at, running away like that?’ he demanded curtly. ‘You know I have to see you. Come over immediately.’

  ‘I’ll see you across the river. Meet me in half-an-hour at Bert’s. I can’t talk any more now,’ I said firmly. And I put down the receiver to avoid argument.

  Bert was an ex-patient who owned a small cafe in the docks. He had many very tough-looking customers but, as he was an ex-heavy-weight fighter with a weakness for the medical and nursing professions, in his cafe the most junior and shy first-year was as safe as in the hospital canteen. George was leaning on the counter chatting to the enormous Bert when I arrived. We all talked together for a little while, then George and I drifted to one of the small tables by a window overlooking the river, while Bert went for our coffee.

  ‘Now, tell me, Maggie.’

  It did not take me long to explain. He was aghast and contrite on both counts. ‘What I could do to old Bill! I thought he could keep his big mouth shut.’

  ‘Why? When you couldn’t.’

  He winced. ‘I’ll go to the S.M.O.’

  ‘Don’t ‒’

  ‘What sort of man do you think I am to let you take the rap?’

  I sighed. ‘George, be sensible. If he was sure it was you, it would be the last of the many last straws.’

  ‘Perhaps.’ He scowled. ‘I don’t like it, Maggie.’

  ‘I know you don’t, but it is the best solution? He has guessed it was a student, not which one. There are seven hundred of you. He can’t report the lot.’

  He whistled softly. ‘You’ve been a true friend, love, but I’m afraid you’ve taken an awful chance with your whole future. It never pays any member of a hospital to cross swords openly with an S.M.O.’

  I let that pass. I was not at all sure that I was going to have any future in Jude’s, but I did not want to rub this in. He had more than enough to distress him as it was. I brought the subject back to Avis. ‘I’ve made such a mess of things. She’s bound to think the worst when she reads what I wrote to you. I want you to get in touch with her yourself.’

  ‘She can’t stick the sight of me. Everyone knows that.’

  ‘You are quite mistaken.’

  A dull flush crept up his face. ‘On the level?’

  I nodded. We sat in silence, gazing at each other. After a while, I asked, ‘What are you going to do about it?’

  He took out his pen like a man in a trance, uncapped it, then passed it to me. ‘I’ve got an envelope ‒ here. Let’s have her address.’

  I wrote it for him. ‘It’s just the other side of Maidstone.’ I looked up. ‘Are you going to write?’

  ‘No. It’s too complicated. I must see her. I’ll borrow Bill’s car and go down as soon as I get back.’

  ‘She may b
e at the hospital with her mother.’

  ‘She’ll have to go back home some time, since you say she’s staying on to deal with the house. I’ll sit on the doorstep until she shows up. If she throws me out ‒ well, it won’t be the first time she’s done that.’ His jaw was determined, his eyes gentle. ‘She told me she was an only child. She’ll be feeling pretty much on her own today, what with one thing and another. Even if there hadn’t been all this nonsense, I’d have gone down today, now I know about her mother. I’d like to stick around in case she needs help.’

  I had never heard him sound so sincere, or look so adult. He seemed to have altered from a boy into a man, under my eyes. ‘I think that’s a wonderful idea,’ I told him. ‘But what about your rounds?’

  ‘I’m just going.’ He paid Bert and we went out into the cold. It was a very bright morning, but the wind from the river was icy. He looked towards the forest of masts in the docks. ‘One thing, there’ll be no fog in this wind. You should have good weather for your drive.’

  ‘Yes.’

  I shivered partly from the cold and partly from the thought of this afternoon and tonight.

  When I got back, I went to see Home Sister to ask if I could be called at half-past two. She told me she had had a message from Fiona Mason. ‘Dr. Cameron has had to alter the arrangements slightly, Nurse. He wishes to be back by ten, so he hopes to leave just after one. Miss Mason asked me to tell you that she has let your mother know of the change. If you are to leave at one, you will want to be called by twelve-fifteen.’ She clicked her teeth, anxiously. ‘Dear me. It is nearly eleven already. I am afraid you will only have time for a very short nap. Off you go and rest, Nurse.’

  I seemed barely to have closed my eyes when Elsie shook me. ‘Nurse Blakney, wake up. Sister sent you some tea. Be careful you don’t go to sleep again! That’s right. Sit up and drink the tea.’

  Fiona limped into our hall as one o’clock struck. ‘I hope this isn’t too early for you, Nurse? Let’s go quickly. If we don’t get away immediately, there’ll be a call, and goodness knows when we’ll leave.’