by Sheila Burns
‘I’d like it better if you came with me.’ A comforting man’s hand closed over her own on the cloth. Mandy knew that the patients said that Richard was the doctor they could always trust, and she trusted him, too.
‘You’ll change your mind when the time comes,’ she said.
‘I’ll always love you.’
He had the look of Dr Kildare on the pictures (he was known as ‘Our Dr Kildare’ in the hospital), but somehow she felt that a good-looking doctor was not the husband she would want. After the monotony of three years’ training, she sought now thrilling adventure. A foreign country perhaps, and all those sweetnesses which she believed went with a foreign country. She wanted to travel, though Mother had never suggested this for her, but Mother was conspicuously self-contained. When Mandy summed her up (and she hated doing this), Mother’s main interest was Mother!
‘I’ve got to have time to think, Richard. I want some of the excitements which are such great fun when you are young. It sounds absurd, but I want glamour. I don’t suppose that I’ll get it, but I do want some of the varnish and the glitter.’
‘You’ve read too many cheap books.’
‘Or I’ve had too dull a training, and now am thirsty for something which is farther afield!’
‘You could get hurt.’
‘But that’s life! It is always ready to hurt you, even monotony hurts, and with that you get nothing. I am in the state of mind which just wants something to happen.’
He sent for the bill.
‘Time travels too fast,’ he said. ‘I’ve got to get along to Casualties, or get the ticking-off of my life; that new Sister is pretty hot at that one.’
‘You’re telling me!’
‘You might think that when you are entitled to be called “Doctor”, a Sister dare say nothing more to you, but there you’re wrong! She conveys it. Gosh, she’s good at it!’
‘She’s the queen bee at it,’ commented Mandy, who had had some. Thank goodness that now she was out of the student nurse status, for they always came into more trouble than most. Sisters were not so rude to staff nurses and ahead lay a big future.
Before that comes, she thought, oh, how I wish a big surprise could happen. A chance for glamour, for thrill, and for excitement. I wish life had some prize to give me.
They walked out of the café, crossing the street back to the big bulk of a building which was St Jeremy’s. Richard would go straight to Casualties, she to pack, for she would be home in the morning. She wondered what the new girl would be like, taking over the little room which had been Mandy’s home for three interminable years? She would experience much as Mandy had done, in the ups and downs of a great hospital. Panics in the wards, or the theatre; chat about good-looking doctors (and Richard always led that conversation). She wondered what sort of a change would come to her, going back to a mother forever fostering some imaginary illness, and peevishly argumentative about it.
She and Richard parted in the courtyard, which was choked with the consultants’ important-looking cars, and the jerry-built little ones which hopeful students bought for themselves and then wondered why they always went wrong. They parted to go their different ways. Mandy could not believe that this was ending for a whole month. She had the vague foreboding that she stood on the threshold of adventure and glamour, but somehow felt too tired to enjoy it, for the last three years had been hard going. If she had been better at exams it would have helped, but she honestly believed that she had had to slog harder than the others did, and somehow that had taken it all out of her.
As she entered the nurses’ home the porter stopped her in the hall. It had always been an untidy hall with the shabby furniture and the thready mats; one almost forgot the colours which they had originally been. Richard had disappeared down the alleyway marked CASUALTIES in startling red letters, and she had had the premonition that she would not be seeing him again for a very long time. I’m exaggerating things; it’s just that I’m tired, she thought.
There had been a message from her Surrey home. Her mother had had a bad fall and had severely sprained her ankle. Would Mandy ring up immediately? Who laughs at premonition now, she thought, and went to the public telephone box in the hall. It smelt of stale cigarette smoke, and the walls, once white, were a scribble of ‘doodles’ which other nurses had made as they waited impatiently to get through to home, usually to borrow money. She could not think what had happened, and what had Mother done to her ankle, and why couldn’t it wait for her return tomorrow?
When she got through she knew instantly that Mother had been waiting for this moment to let off steam. It was a long story. The day after tomorrow she was flying out to Malta to Cam, who was ill. Seriously ill! In Mother’s small world every illness was serious. Mandy got the idea that quite probably Cam had invented a malady to excuse himself from coming home when he had been expected. If so he would not appreciate Mother flying out to Malta to save him. Island of sunshine and romance, Mandy thought, remembering the travellers’ literature which cruising companies sent out. She had a dream of palm trees, the oranges, and of purple bougainvillea climbing over ruined temples.
Now her beastly doctor had said that she must rest the ankle and Mother was in tears. But she had had an idea. Mandy must fly out in her place, and anyhow now that Mandy was qualified she would be a far greater help to Cam ‒ the poor darling! ‒ and could save his life for him.
I wanted glamour, thought Mandy, and pulled a face at herself. This was not going to be the month of relaxation as Matron had suggested; this was going to be hard work.
‘But Mother …?’
‘You can’t refuse me when I am so ill and in such pain. You just can’t do that, and anyway someone must go out to my poor darling Cam! Somebody must save his life, and you have got to go, Mandy. I’ve rung up the place where I booked my reservation and they can do it all for me. You simply must go.’
So already it had gone this far, had it? How like Mother to arrange it all before ringing up. She was fairly cute at managing things to her own satisfaction, and getting it all finally settled before she brought the other person into the picture.
‘You can have anything you want out of my wardrobe. All my new summer frocks are here, never worn …’
Mother was forty-seven, Mandy was twenty-two, and she half-wondered would they be of use to her? But she had to recall that Mother had the absurd facility for ‘wearing young’, as someone had once said. Possibly she had bought the most youthful wardrobe, which would be a joy.
‘I’m worn out, Mother, and I need a rest.’
‘I’m sick with pain; I need peace,’ and Mother began to cry.
‘Yes, but …’
‘Mandy, you do love me, don’t you? I shall die if you let me down now, for I am worried to death about Cam. He is awfully ill; picked up a germ, or something. It’s a hateful island, I always said so; once I got my pocket picked in the Barracca gardens there. You have to be careful! But you must go, darling. Don’t break my heart. You can’t let me down at the last moment when I’ve arranged everything.’ This was an old ruse of her mother’s, and the maddening thing was that it always worked.
Perhaps Mandy had been right when she had seen Richard disappearing towards the entrance marked CASUALTIES, and had felt that it would be for a long time. She was embarking on an adventure, a very different sort of adventure, in a very different sort of world.
‘I’m terrified of flying …’
‘You’ll have to get used to it. Everybody flies today; you must realize that.’
‘I ‒ I know nothing about Malta. Don’t you have to be inoculated against this and that?’
‘No, you’ve had all those inoculations as a nurse. You’ll be all right. I did ask, and they knew. I’m relying on you, Mandy, I’m trusting you.’
Calmly and coolly her mother rang off.
At half past nine in the morning, just as she had said, the car would appear outside the nurses’ home for her, and she would be whizzed off home, with old Holmes driv
ing her. The day after tomorrow she would fly out to Malta, whether she liked the idea or did not. Everything is happening to me, she thought, and turned back to her room.
‘I hope nothing’s wrong, Nurse,’ said the porter, a nice old fellow, who in emergencies would even lend you five bob if you were stuck.
‘No, thank you, everything’s absolutely splendid,’ she said, and turned into her room.
Something is going to happen, she told herself.
Chapter Two
That was a difficult evening when she was not on duty, and everybody she liked and knew was, so that she meandered about alone. Just as she had anticipated, first thing next morning here was old Holmes with the car outside the door of the nurses’ home waiting for her.
‘Your Ma is not that bad, Miss,’ he told her as she got into the car.
She whirled off and they travelled fast. She imagined that Mother had instructed Holmes that she was to be got back as immediately as was possible. It was nice to slip out of London, and come through Esher, with the common on the left, and the long trail of houses on the right. Beyond Esher the country, with the brightness of springtime everywhere. They came away from the main road after Ripley, and into the real country, turning in at the big drive gates.
Mother, when she had come into a fortune, had done herself well for she loved being extravagant, and Daddy must have been desperately in love with her to leave her everything the way that he had done. Perhaps he had been so sure that Mother would be sweet to her only child, but the fact remained that Mandy had nothing save expectations, and she had always nursed the idea that it would be quite possible for Mother suddenly to have a crashing row with her, and back out.
It could be about to happen now.
She went up the big staircase with the carved balustrade with those massive bunches of grapes and fat curling leaves which she had so liked, and walked along the polished landing with the heavy crimson rugs everywhere, and turned into her mother’s room.
She knew that Mother was a hard-boiled invalid, and she adored being ill. The beautiful bedroom was tidy, Mother always saw to that, and she lived extremely comfortably. One had to admit that a month’s holiday here would be a month’s holiday and no rot about doing the dusting and a bit of odd cooking.
Mother lay on the bed half-dressed, and turned in dismay to Mandy.
‘Darling, at last! This is too awful! I never knew that anything could hurt me quite so much.’
‘How did you do it?’
‘It was not my fault, if that is what you mean. I caught my foot in a rug, and fell. I knew, of course, what I had done, and I fainted from sheer shock.’
‘It’ll be better soon.’
‘The doctor says it won’t.’ Mandy realized that her mother rather enjoyed this one! ‘You will go to Cam tomorrow?’
‘I said I would. What’s the matter with him?’
‘Med fever, or something. They call all these things by such funny names out there. I am sure that there are no proper doctors in the island; just the kick-outs from here, I imagine.’
‘I don’t suppose so for a moment.’
Mother began to whimper. ‘Don’t be grand with me, darling. I just can’t bear that! You must realize how worried I am. Cam means everything to me … everything. You’ve never been in love, and, oh, how that hurts. I’d die if he died now.’
It seemed impossible to believe that a year ago Mother had not even met Cam, and had managed to live without him. She began to cry quite pitifully. Mandy had wanted to argue that she was tired out with those dreadful exams, and simply wanted a rest; anyway she had never flown, and hated the idea. She could not bring into the play the one big argument which was that she distrusted Cam, and could not choke that feeling down.
‘You said you’d go, Mandy.’
‘Yes, and I will go.’
‘It’s only for the weekend; what I wanted to do was to fly out there and bring him back with me.’
‘Is he in hospital?’
‘No, he wouldn’t go! You know how dreadfully naughty men can be about this sort of thing. He is in the flat that he rents in Valletta.’ She began to cry, and even Mandy had to admit that there was something very pathetic about her mother when she cried.
‘I hate the thought of flying.’
‘You’ll have to get used to it. You live in a modern world, and can’t refuse it. Even if you do want a rest, you’re young and you can take it. You ought to be pleased with a sudden flight to Malta, which is an exciting place; most girls would be all over me.’
‘But I’m so tired …’
‘It’s time you got out of it. It’s all that dull hospital food. Have some champagne and a sandwich, and you’ll feel a different girl.’
The irritating part was that she did.
She argued about clothes, but Simpson, Mother’s maid, appeared with an armful of charming brand new frocks, for Mother had been out on a spending-spree recently. No woman can refuse extravagant clothes. Mandy picked out the navy silk with the cream fitments and the long cream coat. She chose a flowered silk frock, with no sleeves, and the sea-green wisp for evening, which was creaseproof and delicious. Irritatingly she felt lots better.
‘All of them with my love,’ and Mother waved her hand. She felt and probably rightly, that the fight was won.
I have never been proof against Mother’s technique, Mandy thought as she sat in her bedroom. It was quite true that the ankle was sprained, and that she could not make the journey herself, and later the old village doctor would come in and back it up. He knew better than to fight with her mother.
‘It’ll do you good to get away,’ he told Mandy and winked. ‘Go out there and enjoy yourself. A new setting makes a big difference at your age. I served in Malta once, and adored it. The clover fields are the most heavenly sight. The Barracca is divine on a hot night. Old temples, everything is there, and,’ he came a shade closer, ‘those dark-eyed Maltese aristocrats who have loved their island for centuries! Beware of the dark-eyed young men, for they have something.’
‘I don’t feel like young men,’ she said, and perhaps her voice was a trifle weary.
He snapped his bag together. ‘Twenty-two, and you don’t feel like young men! Well, well, well, then there is something really wrong.’
When he had gone, Mandy had the feeling that she was a ball on a roulette-board, spinning round and round, unable to stop herself and unable to check the speed. Suddenly life had ceased to be monotonous and dull, and she was half afraid of it. Suddenly she was setting forth on a journey to the island and anything could happen. Whenthe family doctor had said that it would be better than spending a holiday here he could have been right. Maybe the world had a lot to show her.
When she got to her room, she sent the briefest note to Richard to thank him for last night, for he would want to know what was happening.
This seems to be unbelievable, but Cam is ill in Malta. Mother was flying out to him, now has sprained her ankle and can’t make it. I have to go instead. Flying scares me. I can’t stick Cam, and have the feeling that there is something funny behind all this. Maybe I’ll come to shortly.
Back soon. Good luck.
Mandy
Lunch was superb. Tea came up to her bedroom, for she laid down, and then had overslept. She dined in Mother’s room with her.
The one thing that worried her was that she had hardly been abroad before. You could not count that day trip to Cherbourg, when she had been so seasick that she could do nothing but pray to die. Nor the weekend with another student nurse in Antwerp, which seemed to be not very different from the small sea-ports she knew in England, though more cobbled, and had the disturbing factor that nobody spoke any language that she understood.
But Malta was different.
She had gone into the library and had brought out a book on it, but had fallen asleep before she could read much. Over her tea she had glanced again. This was an island in the Mediterranean. She looked at pictures of the wastes, the d
usty fig trees, St John’s Cathedral startlingly ornate, and the legends of this island, all the superstitions in it. Suddenly she knew that Cherbourg and Antwerp could not compete.
This was an island old even to history. An island where legend continued for ever, and where dusty remains of other modes of living still stayed. St Paul had landed there.
The new frocks would be a joy, and she would have been enchanted with it all, provided that there had not been the horror of flying out there, and the fact that she was going to nurse Cam. There are men you cannot bring yourself to like, and Cam was one of them. There are men you cannot understand, and again he was one of them. A hard-liver, she would have said, a man who had always wined and dined well, and his blood pressure would probably give her a fit.
She supped in Mother’s room, the spruce maid bringing trolleys of extravagant food, and in spite of the agony which Mother said that she was suffering, she managed to eat very well.
‘I’d have died if you had said that you would not go out to my darling,’ Mother said, over superb black coffee and a brandy liqueur.
‘I’ll do everything that I can.’
‘I trust you, my darling; I trust you implicitly,’ and Mother purred in the way that she always did when she was getting her own way. Then she found it easy to be the most lovable type of woman.
‘What about money?’
‘Here is a pile of travellers’ cheques, and my bank manager has got through to the bank out there. You may need quite a lot of money if you have to fly Cam home in a special plane.’
‘I’m to do that, if …?’
‘No expense must be spared, and you will be a flying nurse.’
‘It’s the last thing I want to be,’ Mandy reminded her mother.
‘You really are most frightfully difficult, dear; most awfully awkward. I’m doing all that I can, but …’
‘I know.’
I’m mad to go, Mandy thought, when she lay down that night after the ecstasy of having her bath turned on for her, and Mother’s special bubble drops put into it, so that it smelt like an orange grove in spring. I need a rest, and a chance to recoup before I plan my own future, and I should not be flying about the world looking for fun. This, she was convinced, would mean more than she had thought. Something would happen, and she could not think what it might be.
