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Authors: Marjorie Moore

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BOOK: Honorary Surgeon
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While Sir Richard was making his way to Sister Tudor

s sanctum, Mary had retired to the ward pantry to prepare the tea. It irked her to be wasting precious minutes when she might have been more usefully employed elsewhere. After all, she argued, any probationer could make tea. She filled the kettle and then found to her annoyance that there weren

t any matches to light the gas. As she was about to go in search of some, the door was pushed open and Joan Howe peeped round.


Oh, Joan, you

re a positive godsend! Do say you

ve got a match on you!

Mary exclaimed at sight of her friend.

Joan Howe entered the room and, standing with her back to the door, eyed the tea-tray quizzically.

For Lord Richard and her ladyship, I presume?

she laughed. Taking a box of matches from her apron pocket, she tossed it into the other

s hand.

Mary lighted the gas and perched herself precariously on the corner of the sink.

Yes; you

re right, of course,

she replied.

Do stay until the thing boils if you

re not in too great a hurry!


I

m in no hurry. I never am. Besides, I

m off, and so will you be soon, so cheer up!

she laughed.


I dare say I shall, but now, what with dancing attendance on Sister, I shall be terribly late. Sister

s like a broody hen where

our Dick

is concerned. I

m just about fed up with

Sir Richard this

and

Sir Richard that

; she couldn

t show the entire royal family more respect! What a dance she

s led me all day, and I

ve a splitting head into the bargain. If I don

t get this cap off my head, I

ll go mad!

She suited the action to her words and tossed the offending cap on to a chair.


Never mind, Mary, make a good strong brew of tea, and we can each have a cup out of it before you take it along to the dragon

s den,

Joan Howe suggested with a twinkle.


Grand idea!

Mary agreed.

And we shall be able to drink it in peace too; the Tudor wench will be safely engaged for another half-hour at least!

She smiled at her companion.

You look bursting with health and spirits this evening; I don

t know how you do it!


Do what?


Oh, keep so cheery and good-tempered. This heat and all the running about simply get me down. It

s too awful to remember that I

ve already had part of my holiday. I

ve only another fortnight due to me, and I shan

t get that until autumn. Sometimes I feel I shall never last out!

Mary pulled a face.

And to think that the whole of the time it rained, and was cold into the bargain.

She paused
,
then added:

I don

t know what

s the matter with me. I feel so tired and fed up with everything. You see, although I love the actual nursing, I can

t bear the unvarying routine, and, above all, the silly gossip and petty jealousies. Wasn

t Vickers perfectly awful this afternoon?

Without awaiting an answer, Mary continued:

It

s different for you; you never seem to bother about that sort of thing.


No, I don

t care tuppence about anything like that. I get lots of fun and enjoy the life.

Joan Howe

s, eyes sparkled as she spoke, and her elfin face, unremarkable in repose, was transformed by her vivacity.

Anyway, I wouldn

t want to change
...”
She broke off to add:

Look, your kettle

s boiling over. There

ll be no water left if you don

t hurry. Here, let me make the tea; you seem tired out.


Thanks. I am a bit tired ... I seem to have a fit of the blues today.

Mary stopped speaking and surveyed the tray.

There, I don

t think I

ve forgotten anything.

With a nod of thanks to her friend, she picked up the tray and carried it along to the Sister

s room. Sir Richard

s voice replied to her knock, and entering, she deposited the tray on a side-table.

Sir Richard smiled at her in friendly fashion.

Thank you, nurse. Sister has been called away. Perhaps you will let her know that tea is ready.

As Mary turned towards the door, Sir Richard spoke again.

I

m sorry if preparing tea took you away from your work.

Mary raised her grey eyes in surprise. Funny; he might have read her thoughts. Perhaps her whole bearing showed her antagonism. Well, a good job too, she argued; it would do him good to know that there was at least one nurse who wasn

t falling over herself for the privilege of waiting on him. That
was
the sort of thing he
always
did; apologized to the nurses, made them think he
was
the most thoughtful and considerate person, when he probably wasn

t meaning a word he said all the time. That smile of his too
...
it certainly held a world of charm, she admitted grudgingly, and of course he was awfully good-looking. The bright light from the window delineated his finely cut features, the forceful mouth and square chin, silent symbol of the determination of his character. Suddenly Mary became conscious that her companion was returning her stare. What was he thinking? Why was he observing her so closely? She put up a hand to her hair, fearful that she was perhaps untidy, then gave a gasp of dismay
...
She ha
d
taken off her cap because of the heat and she had omitted to put it on again! That was a breach of hospital etiquette almost impossible to excuse. Small wonder that Sir Richard stared!


Oh, I must apologize
...”
Mary stammered.

I was so hot ... I took my cap off and forgot
...”
She broke off in dismay as Sister Tudor appeared in the doorway


Nurse Grant!

The horror depicted on Sister Tudor

s face would, at any other time, have reduced Mary to laughter, but at that moment she felt far too miserably embarrassed to notice anything except the older woman

s anger.

What a disgraceful spectacle! Please be good enough to keep yourself properly attired when on duty.

Mary felt the colour rush to her cheeks. She could never accustom herself to being corrected so brusquely in front of others. With an almost inaudible,

I

m sorry,

she quickly withdrew from the room.

For a moment she stood outside while the angry colour drained from her cheeks, leaving her deadly white; then, hurrying blindly down the corridor, she burst open the pantry door and slammed it noisily behind her.


Oh that woman!

An angry torrent of words flew from Mary

s lips.

I really hate her
...
She

s so inconsiderate ... so altogether awful
...
One of these days I shall forget myself ... I shan

t be able to control myself any longer
...
Then she

ll hear something she won

t forget in a hurry. The cat
...
the miserable cat.


My dear Mary, you do seem put out. What

s the spot of bother?

Joan enquired sympathetically.


Spot of bother!

Mary echoed indignantly.

That creature always makes a mountain out of a molehill. You should just have heard her icy sarcasm because I appeared without a cap. You

d have thought I

d broken all ten commandments within the hospital

s sacred precincts! With Sir Richard putting on that sweet smile of commiseration, too,

she ended angrily.

Joan giggled hysterically.

Well, you have committed rather a misdemeanour, haven

t you? And before his lordship, too! What an ass I was not to have noticed it! Never mind; you look a hundred per cent nicer showing your hair. I expect the old gorgon was envious.

Joan glanced admiringly at her friend

s golden halo of hair.

And she might well be.


Oh, stop teasing, Joan. I

m not in the mood for it. I

ll just swallow this cup of tea and get back to lend a hand in the theatre. After that I shall be free, really free for the rest of the evening. Marvellous to think of a few hours

respite from the Tudor wench.

 

CHAPTER
TWO

The small red sports car
gradually gathered speed and zigzagged its way through the traffic towards the outskirts of London. Mary Grant, comfortably settled in the upholstered seat by Noel Mayton

s side, scarcely spoke until they turned from the main stream of traffic.


Where are you heading for?

She addressed her companion conversationally.


Anywhere special you

d like to go?

His eyes smiled at her from beneath the brim of his soft felt hat.


Oh, I don

t mind one bit.

She leaned back as the warm summer breeze blew across the car.

This is so lovely, I don

t mind if we drive forever
.


I can see
you

re
not going to be very helpful.

Noel Mayton laughed.

Seems as if I

ll have to do the choosing. There

s a new place beyond St. Albans; very popular, so I

ve heard. As a matter of fact, Aylmer told me about it; said that it was a delightful spot, and that they served a jolly good meal.


Just as you like; it

s heavenly anywhere out of London on a night like this. I feel as if I am really breathing for the first time today.

Mary threw back her head, and the golden hair escaping from her closely fitting hat, blew in the rush of wind.


We

ll try the Blue Lagoon, then. Aylmer was most enthusiastic.


Aylmer!

Mary echoed the name.

Do you know, I

m becoming heartily sick of that man

s name. No man under ninety is safe on a hospital staff.


Why ever not? What do you mean?

Noel Mayton asked.


What do I mean? Why, surely it

s obvious. He

s far too good-looking, and a bachelor at that. All the nurses, and sisters too for that matter, make me feel positively fed up, the way
they buzz round him.


What a joke!

Noel burst into laughter.

Alymer of all people! Why, I don

t believe he as much as looks at a woman, except as an anatomical specimen!

His voice became more serious.

He devotes all his time to an aged mother; seems strange to me, but I expect there must be some secret love-affair lurking in, the background!


What, another woman?

Mary

s words held an undercurrent of merriment.

He

ll break hundreds of hearts at St. Jude

s if he ever dares to marry.

A few moments late Noel slowed down the car and drove through a narrow lane until they reached a building half hidden by overhanging trees.

Looks inviting, doesn

t it? Anyway, I vote we go in and look round.

Suiting his action to the words, Noel turned in at the open gate and drew the car to a standstill before the sheltered porch, where several other cars were already parked in the wide drive. Although the open doorway displayed the restaurant, the unusual closeness of the evening had enticed everyone on to the verandah outside. Entirely obscured from the road, and too far away for the traffic noises to penetrate, the garden, overlooked by the verandah, was a veritable dream.

Mary followed her companion to a table on the verandah and seated herself opposite him. Absent-mindedly she nodded agreement to Noel

s suggestions regarding the meal, then, leaning back in her chair, she gave herself up for a few moments to the enchantment of the view. What
a long way away the hospital seemed; this was like another world. It was scarcely possible that barely two hours earlier she had felt suffocated by the atmosphere of the operating-theatre.

BOOK: Honorary Surgeon
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