Nurse Bride, Bayside Wedding

by Gill Sanderson

  ‘I’m going to stay with him for a while longer,’ she said.

  ‘Well, I’m entitled to a bit of self-indulgence. I’ll stay, too.’ He sat by her, looked at her as she sat there with her head bowed. ‘Was he a particular friend?’

  ‘Perhaps he was. He had to come to the medical centre quite a bit, he’d hurt his leg—and this morning he asked me to marry him.’

  ‘He what?’

  Maddy managed to smile. ‘It was only a joke. Or perhaps half a joke. But I liked him a lot.’

  Both of then looked up as the sound of Mr Bryce’s breathing altered. Cheyne-Stokes breathing. An alteration from very rapid to very slow breaths, with pauses between them. In a man of Mr Bryce’s condition it meant that death was near.

  ‘He was the first man to be nice to me for quite a long time,’ she said.

  Ed looked surprised. ‘The first man to be nice to you? I would have thought that there was no shortage of men interested in you. You’re very attractive, Maddy, you must know that.’

  She felt a small pleasure at hearing him say this, but at the moment she had other things on her mind. ‘Perhaps so. You know this morning—was it only this morning, it seems so long ago? I got a phone call. It was from my ex-boy friend, ex-fiancé if you like. For a while I thought I was going to marry him. I wanted to have babies with him. Anyway, he wants to pick up with me again. And I don’t want to… I just can’t… Though I do feel guilty.’

  ‘Why should you feel guilty? Better to decide early that you’re not suited.’

  ‘I’m a nurse, I’m supposed to heal the sick. And he was sick.’

  She wasn’t surprised when Ed took her hand. ‘Why don’t you tell me about it? I’ll try to help if I can. Or help you to understand.’

  She laughed, without humour. ‘That might be possible. The two of you have things in common.’

  He raised his eyebrows again, but all he said was, ‘I’d like to help.’

  She sighed. ‘We got engaged. It was a lightning courtship, he was a hard man to resist. He was a soldier, he went off on active service and he came home with PTSD—post-traumatic stress disorder. And after that things got so bad that I had to get away from him. It was classic mental abuse—but I suspected that if I married him the mental abuse would have turned physical in time. I was…scared. In fact, at times I still am.’

  ‘Did he have any treatment?’

  ‘He went to a clinic a couple of times at first. Then he said it was a waste of time and that he was cured. He wouldn’t take the medication he was prescribed.’

  ‘Tell me more about him. What had he in common with me?’

  ‘He was decisive like you. He knew what he wanted, was going to get it because he thought he was right. It’s good if you want to get something done. It’s not so good if you’re the one being done to. He just can’t or won’t accept that we’re finished. And we are!’

  ‘Have you a family to offer you support? Are your parents alive?’

  ‘I’ve got no one. My parents died a while ago now, before this happened, and they had no relations. You said I was attractive, well, apparently I am. And because of that, I found that too often men were out for just what they could get. I had a couple of rotten experiences. Then I met Brian. And at first he was different. At first.’

  ‘I see,’ he said. Then, with a small smile, ‘Maddy, you might not like it but I’m going to be decisive. Obviously your ex-fiancé needs treatment. I’m a doctor, I’ve had experience of army cases. I can make some phone calls, see that he’s picked up and given proper attention. He obviously didn’t get it before. But some of the army psychiatrists are very good indeed. They can help.’

  There was something odd in his tone, at first she couldn’t work out what. But then she realised. It was pain, the pain of memory. She lifted her head to look at him and said, ‘You say that as if you know it from personal experience.’

  There was a hesitation before he said, ‘I was sent for psychological assessment. I had to have a couple of consultations, whether I wanted them or not.’

  ‘Sent because you were showing signs of some kind of mental problem?’

  He laughed, but there was no humour in his laughter. ‘Just the opposite. It was thought that…that I had suffered things that ought to produce mental problems, but I showed no signs of them.’

  ‘What kind of things that ought to produce mental problems?’

  His reply was definitive. ‘I don’t talk about them.’

  But she still wanted to know more. ‘So why didn’t you show signs of them?’

  ‘I could say because I was tough,’ he said. ‘But I know that I was just lucky.’

  She thought she could believe that. ‘And you were given a clean bill of health? No psychological problems found, no irrational fears or phobias?’

  ‘None.’

  Just one simple, curt word. But for some reason it didn’t convince her. ‘Are you sure?’

  He lifted his arms, in a gesture almost of surrender. ‘Psychology isn’t like medicine. It isn’t true or false, right or wrong, good or bad. There are great grey areas. And if a psychologist digs hard enough, he’s bound to find something not quite right.’

  ‘Are you going to tell me what they found that was not quite right about you?’

  ‘No,’ he said.

  ‘Are you going to tell me what things you suffered that caused these problems?’

  ‘No.’

  Apparently he thought that the conversation had run its course. But there were more things Maddy wanted to know. She thought that she was getting close to the real Ed, and she wanted desperately to hear more. She started…

  It wasn’t a sound, it was a lack of sound. Both were trained, both knew what had happened. They turned to look at their patient. Mr Bryce had stopped breathing altogether.

  Neither Maddy nor Ed spoke or moved for a while. Then Maddy moved over to look at her friend, bent to kiss him on the forehead.

  ‘You’re tired,’ Ed said. ‘And there’s nothing more you can do. I’ll do the paperwork and see to everything, it’s better if you don’t do it. He was your friend, his last few minutes were made happier because you were here. Just go back to the centre, try to close your eyes, relax a little.’

  She looked at him through tear-shrouded eyes. ‘You’re a kind man, Ed.’

  ‘I’m just doing my job,’ he said gruffly.

  It was eleven o’clock at night, and they were lucky—there was a slight lull in things. She made herself a mug of tea and sat and thought about Ed. He was like her. There was some burden he was carrying—and she wanted to know what it was. She’d only known him a few hours, but during that time she’d seen enough of him to know he was a caring and sensitive man. She could even come to… No, she couldn’t. The fear was still deep inside her.

  He walked into the medical centre a few minutes later and smiled at her, a weary smile. ‘We’re getting there,’ he said.

  ‘We’re getting there because we’re working together.’ She stood, walked up to him, touched his arm. Just a gentle indication of her liking. ‘I couldn’t have managed without you.’

  ‘I suspect,’ he said, ‘that you could.’

  Afterwards she wondered, didn’t exactly know how it had happened. They were both tired, of course, perhaps not entirely certain of what they were doing. Perhaps it was a purely spontaneous act, something that happened without either of them knowing why.

  He looked down at her hand on his arm. Very slowly, he slid his other arm round her waist. It was warm, comforting, she leaned back against it.

  His eyes were very blue. She could see them clearly, they were looking down at her with a half curious, half intent expression. Beautiful blue eyes. Why hadn’t she noticed how beautiful they were before?

  His lips touched hers. So tentatively she knew that she could break away in a second. But she didn’t want to. In fact, she reached up, slipped her arm around his neck. At first a gentle kiss. Then it deepened. It turned into something
much more than she had anticipated. His body pressed closer to hers. But she was only half-aware of it, all she could think of was the kiss and how it made her head spin, and how Ed was like no man she’d ever met and—

  The phone rang and they sprang apart.

  Ed picked up the phone, no sign of emotion in his face as he listened intently. ‘You’re sure? Yes, that sounds right. OK, I’ll be there in five minutes.’

  ‘Work calls,’ he said to Maddy. Then he shook his head, looked puzzled. ‘I’m sorry that happened,’ he said. ‘It was my fault. I shouldn’t have kissed you. We’re working hard, we’re stressed, we daren’t get involved with each other. Emotion and this kind of situation… I’ve been here before and it’s…it’s bad.’

  Things were different now, but Maddy was still trying to make sense of what had happened. Above all, make sense of how much she had enjoyed it.

  ‘You might be right,’ she said, ‘and I don’t know why we did that. It must be because we are both tired. I don’t usually kiss—I mean, kiss like that—people who I’ve only just met.’

  ‘And I don’t go around kissing people like that either,’ he said. ‘But this is a time apart. And it’s a world apart—being on a cruise ship is fundamentally unreal. We’ve both got lives to go back to. Then we’ll forget this.’

  ‘Of course we’ll forget it,’ she agreed. But as she looked at him, she wondered if either of them believed her. The kiss had been so wonderful.

  There was one thing she had to add. ‘But, Ed, whatever it was, it wasn’t bad.’

  CHAPTER FOUR

  IT WAS at half past eleven that they were called in to Mrs Jones’s room. She had fought valiantly, but now her body was weary. The steward observing had called Ed, and Ed took Maddy with him.

  Ed thanked the steward, then nodded for her to go. Then he examined Mrs Jones and then said to Maddy, ‘She still has a chance. A small one. All we can do is wait.’

  They sat together in silence. Then she thought that this was the man who not fifteen minutes ago had kissed her. And had apparently enjoyed it. Where had he gone now?

  He moved over to Mrs Jones, leaned over her and checked her condition. ‘Perhaps a bit of an improvement,’ he muttered, ‘but we’ll see.’

  Maddy realised that he was calming himself by acting as a doctor. But there were things she wanted to know, he couldn’t just leave her with half a story.

  ‘So is all this extra-hard for you?’ she asked. ‘Does it bring back memories?’

  ‘No. It’s not extra-hard. But it is hard. The memories I can deal with, I have to deal with. Now I’ve got a job to do, I’ll do it.’ He walked over to their patient, studied her for a minute. ‘Maddy, it looks as if Mrs Jones might have rallied a little. I’m going to check on a couple of our other patients, you stay here a while.’ He was gone before she could object.

  So her chance of questioning him, of learning more about him, had disappeared. She suspected he had left so he didn’t have to answer any more of her apparently innocent queries. But when he’d left she found herself wondering. This sudden interest in a man had never happened before.

  She had met him for the first time only about twelve hours ago. And twenty minutes ago she had kissed him. Or he had kissed her. Whatever, she knew she had enjoyed it. And this was just not the way she normally behaved. With the departed Dr Coombs and the other nurse she had got on well enough. She’d been popular among both passengers and crew, and she’d enjoyed the dancing in the evening. But she’d only really made friends with Malcolm Bryce, who had been no threat to her heart. And being aboard ship made it easier for her to be pleasant to people and yet be safe. She was never any distance from help, the ship protected her.

  So why was Dr Edward Tremayne different?

  She felt uneasy. No way was she going to become closely involved with a man again. Not even a man like Ed Tremayne. He seemed to be…different.

  She checked Mrs Jones who’s condition appeared to be stabilising.

  While she was thinking about this, Ed came back. He looked at Mrs Jones and nodded.

  She smiled. ‘Ed, she’s going to be OK. You’re doing a really good job.’

  She thought at first that he wasn’t going to answer, he took so long to reply. But then he said, ‘Thanks for being there Maddy. I’m sorry if I’m… It’s just this is bringing back so many memories.’

  ‘Even doctors are entitled to feelings,’ she told him gently. ‘Don’t be ashamed of them.’

  There was another pause and then he said, ‘I just wanted Mrs Jones to have that chance. But I’m sorry if I was a bit short with you.’

  Maddy paused for a moment and then said, ‘So you’re obviously used to emergencies like this. Where were they?’

  ‘Africa.’ A curt, one-word answer. But after a moment he said, ‘I was an army doctor, went out there expecting to deal with trauma, war wounds, the diseases that a fit soldiery might catch. And I finished up spending most of my time with a starving native population.’ He looked at her. ‘Come on, there’s more patients to see.’

  They worked together through the night. Steady but exhausting work. But they knew they were doing a good job.

  Maddy was glad she had Ed with her. He seemed to know almost instinctively what was the right dose, the right treatment. She knew she would have done what she could. But Ed was able to do it better. ‘You’re saving lives,’ she told him.

  ‘I’ve learned how. I’ve watched other people lose them,’ was the flat reply.

  She wondered what he was really thinking.

  At two in the morning there seemed to be another lull. They both knew it wouldn’t last—but it was there. Maddy pointed to her watch. ‘This is going to be a long haul,’ she said, ‘we both know that. You’ve sent half the stewards off to have some sleep, now you need some yourself. Go to bed, just for a couple of hours. You’ll be a better doctor when you wake up.’

  ‘I’d rather you took a break first.’

  She shook her head. ‘You’re showing signs of fatigue now. What time did you get up this morning?’

  ‘I’m an early riser, I was in the sea at six this morning. But I don’t need much sleep.’

  ‘I was up a lot later than that and now you need it more than me. Just look at yourself in the mirror.’

  She saw him do so, knew he couldn’t miss the darkness around his eyes. ‘Don’t act the macho male with me,’ she urged. ‘You’ve got more sense than that. Exhausted doctors make mistakes. Just a couple of hours will improve you no end.’

  She could see that he was reluctant to agree but that he had to accept her argument. ‘All right, then. But only two hours!’

  ‘After two hours I’ll wake you up,’ she promised.

  She took him to her cabin, pointed to her bed. ‘Sleep there. It’s my cabin but there’s no time to find you somewhere of your own to sleep. And there’s a bathroom there if you want it.’

  The phone rang. She left him, went to answer it.

  He was tired, he had to admit it. And the temptation was just to take off his shoes, lie on the bed and go to sleep. But he decided not to. He’d have a shower first. Just five minutes would make no end of difference.

  He had to smile when he walked into her tiny bathroom. Maddy had not been expecting visitors. On a couple of strings stretched across the shower there were three sets of underwear drying. So far he’d seen her as a nurse, in a rather severe uniform or scrubs. And it suited her. But the knowledge that underneath she wore the flimsiest of coloured lace rather intrigued him.

  He had a swift shower, cleaned his teeth. He had brought toiletries with him, in anticipation of his stay on board.

  He was still tired but felt consider ably better when he climbed into her bed. He decided that he could allow himself another five minutes—but no longer—to think about what he was doing here.

  So far he was surviving. He knew he was being efficient, organising the treatments, doing the best possible for his patients. He thought—he hoped—that peo
ple felt confident in him.

  No one suspected the memories, the terror that swirled underneath. And as he got more fatigued he knew it would get worse, But he would do it. He had to. Only his father would guess what he was going through.

  Or had Maddy guessed, too? He had noticed once or twice the thoughtful way that she had looked at him. Her seemingly casual questions had been probing, too. Maddy was quite a woman.

  So far he had been thinking about her solely as a colleague. Or had tried to. Now he could think about her as a person. She was so attractive! He was becoming increasingly aware of the generous curves of her body, for some reason emphasised by the plainness of the uniform covering it. When they touched—accidentally, of course—there was that slight electric shock. And the sheen of her hair and the way that it brushed against her cheek when she leaned forward. And he had kissed her! What had possessed him? It was the fact that he was enjoying just being with her and he wanted to— Stop it!

  To his horror he realised that he could fall for her. It wasn’t just that she was beautiful—though he was coming to appreciate that she was. Ellie Clinton was just as beautiful. Well, nearly as beautiful. And Ellie had nothing like the effect on him that Maddy had. Maddy had some power—a combination of her voice, her figure, her actions, her face… Her face. He remembered that look deep in her eyes… She had been hurt. Like him.

  Then he remembered when he had been in a situation like this before. Working in a closed environment with someone he loved. It wasn’t good! The risk of tragedy was too great.

  Perhaps it would be better if they left each other alone. If they could.

  She had intended to leave him for two hours, but after an hour she had to go into her room to wake him. Now she herself was really tired—but she felt that alertness that some times came with extreme fatigue.

  She switched on the light. She saw his clothes neatly piled, saw him in her bed. The sheet had ridden down, there was a naked shoulder, part of his bare chest. He was muscular—well, she had known that. And was that the end of a scar? Not a medical scar, though.