Honorary Surgeon (6 page)

“
Hallo, Grant. Finished?
I
’
m dying for lunch; hurry up and clear. Come on, I
’
ll give you a hand.
”
Joan slipped down from the table on which she had been perched and, rolling up her sleeves, commenced to help.
“
Here, you
’
re doing nothing.
”
She addressed a probationer.
“
Take those soiled dressings to the bin.
”

“
And I
’
d been expecting five minutes
’
peace,
”
the younger nurse grumbled as she picked up the bowl Joan handed her. Despite her resentment, however, she took it willingly, for none of the probationers ever minded what they did for Howe, whose good-humoured fun easily won them over.

“
Oh, dash, she
’
s left the door open.
”
Joan grumbled, but, knowing Sister had already made her way to the dining-room, no one made to shut it.
“
All right, leave it open; it
’
s like the black hole of Calcutta in here, and a little air may be an advantage. I do wish some of you would clear off and leave Grant and me room to move.
”

“
I
’
m not budging until one o
’
clock.
”
Nurse Vickers settled herself back in the only chair.
“
Terry is relieving me with number seven until one, and I don
’
t intend to go on again one second earlier.
”
She paused, then, turning to Mary, spoke again.
“
I can tell you I swore when Sister put me on to that. Dickie
’
s day, too. You got my job of assisting him, you lucky dog.
”

“
Trailing round after Sir Richard is a job anyone can have as far as I am concerned,
”
Mary retorted.
“
Believe me, if giving me the task was supposed to be a favour, the idea was lost on me.
”

“
Of course, I forgot; you
’
re the one that always pretends to be quite impervious to Dickie
’
s charms. All hot air, if you as
k
me! Just a blind. You
’
ve probably fallen worse than all the rest of us put together. Besides, no one could help loving Dickie.
”

“
Of course not.
”

The young probationer returned with the now emptied dish.
“
Who said they could? Have I missed anything?
”
She looked round enquiringly at the assembled nurses.
“
Any fresh scandal going?
”

“
You haven
’
t missed anything. Here, give me that dish.
”
Joan took it from the younger girl
’
s outstretched hand.
“
Now you can put those bottles back in the cupboard.
”

“
All right, give me the key.
”
Taking
it from the senior nurse, she opened the cupboard and carefully replaced the drugs.
“
That all right?
”
Without awaiting a reply, she continued:
“
You know, I thought Sir Richard looked a bit worried this morning. He was perfectly sweet, all the same; he remembered to ask me how my hand was. You know, that finger I cut, quite a fortnight ago, when I was removing a stopper from a bottle for him. I think it was perfectly angelic of him to enquire. It
’
s quite healed
,
so I couldn
’
t even show it to him
.
..
worse luck. I wish
I
were still bad; I could have let him hold my hand while he looked at it.
”
She giggled.
“
Gosh, I
’
d give something to have him for a
boyfriend
,
”
she added sighing prodigiously.

The other nurses laughed at their companion
’
s childish candour. Only Mary remained silent. That was the sort of conversation that made her furious.

“
I guess he
’
d know how to take a girl out. Do her proud, I should think.
”
Margaret Vickers drawled.
“
Wouldn
’
t refuse an invitation myself.
”

Mary swung round from fee sink. She felt she couldn
’
t bear it any longer. In her anger, she was unaware of Joan
’
s glance imploring her to stop.
“
Well, I would! He
’
s an unutterable bore, and unbearably conceited. I wouldn
’
t go out with him, if he went on his bended knees to ask me!
”

Mary
’
s speech, so unexpected, left her smal
l
audience stunned into silence. In fascinated wonder their eyes turned to the door, which slowly opened wider to reveal Sir Richard
’
s figure framed in the opening. It was patent to all that every word must have come clearly to his ears, as the strained expressions which met his glance testified.

“
Nurse Grant, your hat; you left it in my car last night. I have given it to the porter
...
Perhaps you will collect it.
”
If Sir Richard
’
s sudden appearance had caused surprise, his words, cutting through the breathless silence of the small room, left his hearers speechless with astonishment. The unnatural silence was suddenly broken by Nurse Vickers.

“
Well, of all the hypocrites!
”
She seemed at a loss to find words in which to express her indignation.
“
I never ... in all my life!
”
She cast a malevolent glance in Mary
’
s direction and opened her lips to speak again, then, as if choked, turned abruptly away.
“
Come on, girls. It
’
s one o
’
clock; we
’
d better go.
”

In awed wonder the other nurses filed out behind their senior; only Mary and Joan remained. For a moment even Joan seemed nonplussed and, gripping Mary
’
s hand, pressed it sympathetically as she sought for words of consolation.

“
Never mind, Grant; don
’
t look so tragic.
”
She forced a note of gaiety into her voice.
“
I
’
ve never seen
a
nything so funny as Vickers
’
face! Did you notice? She looked as though she
’
d burst any moment!
”

“
I didn
’
t see
...
I. didn
’
t notice anything.
”
Mary drew away.
“
Oh, Joan, it was awful ... he must have heard every word
...
and then, to come in like that ... I hadn
’
t realized the door was open
...
anyway. I thought he
’
d gone
...
I
’
ve never felt such a worm in my life. What must the others think of me?
”
she demanded piteously.

“
What does it matter what they think? You can explain what happened; tell them you were only having a
lift in his car,
”
Joan suggested hopefully.

Mary turned a tragic face to her friend.
“
You know they
’
d never believe that. They
’
d say I
’
d made it up to save my face.
”
Mary sighed.
“
It
’
s no good, Joan, the damage is done, and you know it. If Sir Richard had wanted to get his own back, he has certainly managed it,
”
she said bitterly.
“
The story will be all round the hospital by tea-time; the tit-bit of the day. I
’
ve never been particularly popular. I
’
ve had to fight my way ever since I came here; now it will be unbearable.
”

“
Darling, please don
’
t be so despondent,
”
her friend urged.
“
Things blow over; you know they do,
”
Joan assured her with a confidence she was far from feeling.

A sad smile played for a second round Mary
’
s lips.
“
The funny part is that their anger against me will really be raised by jealousy. They
’
ll think that, behind a tissue of lies, I
’
ve really been carrying on a flirtation with their precious Dickie.
”
Mary laughed a trifle hysterically.
“
That
’
s really amusing because, although I was only indifferent to him before, I really hate him now.
”
As her friend rose to protest, Mary added:
“
I mean it; I hate him. I hate him!
”
she repeated vehemently.

“
Come on, Mary, you
’
re just too upset to think properly. Let
’
s go down to lunch. Even you need nourishment, although I know you
’
re going to tell me that you couldn
’
t stand the
s
ight of food.
”

Mary smiled.
“
You
’
re quite right. The idea of that awful dining-room appal
l
s me, but I know you
’
ll make me come in the end, so I may as well come quietly.
”
Mary shuddered.
“
It
’
s the last time I
’
ll be able to face the dining-room with equanimity. By tea-time
...
She broke off dejectedly.

At the remembrance of the operation Mary
’
s thoughts swung back to Sir Richard. How mean he had been
...
had he for one moment realized the far-reaching effect that thoughtless action of his would produce? Somehow, despite her dislike of the man, Mary had difficulty in believing him capable of taking such spiteful revenge. He must have heard her denouncing him. Her face flushed at the memory
...
That open door
...
how careless of her not to have noticed it! Perhaps he thought that a casual reference to her hat
...
that damning proof of her association with him
...
would merely provoke a laugh, a joke at her expense, a harmless way of paying her out. Mary sighed. A joke indeed! It might, in Sir Richard
’
s opinion, be a splendid joke, but to her it would mean endless misery and an unpopularity almost impossible to live down.

“
Nurse Grant, what on earth are you doing gazing out of the window as though there were no work to be done?
”
Sister Tudor
’
s harsh voice recalled Mary to the task she had been sent to do.

“
I was trying to get a breath of air, Sister. I
’
m sorry, but I have got everything ready. I am just waiting for them to boil.
”
Mary tried to explain away her apparent idleness,

“
That
’
s no reason why you should be hanging half out of the window, doing absolutely nothing, when there are a hundred and one things demanding attention.
”
Sister Tudor bustled round the room, her starched frock making a swishing sound as though swinging in agreement with her air of energy.
“
Are you sure that nothing has been forgotten?
”
she queried irritably.

“
I never do forget,
”
Mary began angrily, then stopped abruptly. It was no good losing her temper and putting herself in the wrong. She must control herself, but her nerves were all on edge. She had seldom felt so wretched; what with the heat, the covert sneers of the nurses, and her anger against Sir Richard, she seemed half demented
...
With a mechanical gesture she adjusted the sterilizer; then, almost unaware of the import of her words, she addressed her superior.

“
Sister, could I
...
would it be possible ... I don
’
t feel very fit
...
might I have a few minutes
’
rest before the operation?
”
Mary was hardly conscious that it had been her own voice speaking, but, as she realized the significance of the words, she experienced a sensation of relief at her own temerity
.

At the unusual request, Sister Tudor eyed her companion closely. The girl certainly looked very pale and washed out; it might be advisable to agree, but they were
short-handed already, with Nurse Vickers delegated to do
“
special
”
and others away on holiday
...
For a moment Sister Tudor hesitated.
“
If you don
’
t feel well
...
She paused, then added somewhat querulously:
“
All right, you
’
d better have half an hour
’
s rest. Don
’
t go out of call, in case Sir Richard arrives earlier than he said. You can go to my room and lie on the couch there. I hope you won
’
t make a habit of this sort of thing; you are here to work, you know,
”
she finished with a prim pursing of her lips.

“
Thank you so much,
”
Mary murmured, and, in case the promise should be in any way modified, she hurriedly made her exit and walked quickly towards Sister Tudor
’
s sanctum.

Shutting the door quietly and with a sigh of relief, she sank down on the edge or the couch. How cool and refreshing it was in this small, sparsely furnished room! With wondering, eyes she glanced round, as if seeing the room for the first time. She had never realized before how comfortable it was, and how different from what one would have imagined. Sister Tudor must have excellent taste. After all, Mary reflected, she knew absolutely nothing of Sister Tudor outside the hospital; knew nothing of her interests, her likes and dislikes. Perhaps she was more human than her martinet-like behaviour in the wards indicated. It had really been decent of her to grant leave for a rest, and a sensation of sheer gratitude surged through Mary as she drew her legs up on to the couch and leaned back against the cushion. This was marvellous, but how on earth was she to get through the long day
...
tomorrow ... all the week, and no holiday in view for another couple of months? It began to look as though Noel were right; she wasn
’
t suited for this job, wasn
’
t capable
’
of enduring the long hours
’
and incessant work. Yet she couldn
’
t give in; this was her livelihood, and any other vocation would probably prove equally exacting. She would have to make an effort to carry on, although the thought of the long summer ahead brought a frown to her forehead. There was that invitation from her old friend Veronica Perivale ... if. only she could have accepted it ... A few days in the country now was just what she was longing for, and to have spent them with Veronica too
...
that would have been ideal! It was years since she had seen her, and it would have been wonderful to spend a holiday that way. But she wasn
’
t due to go until October, and by then Veronica, only home from Malaya on leave, might not still be in England. In any case, it was a horrid time of year for a holiday
—
short evenings, and probably an autumnal nip in the air. Still, that was the date allocated to her, and it was no use rebelling; she
’
d got to submit and make the best of a bad job. Turning on her side, she rested her cheek against her hand and tried to snatch a few minutes sleep. She had just reached the borderline of sleep when she became aware of a figure standing over her, and, with a start of surprise, sat up to find
h
erself staring at the very subject of her thoughts. For a full second she could not recollect where she was, nor what she was doing lying down. Then rem
em
brance came, and with remembrance the realization that she must look strangely dishevelled. Hastily she began to pull down her sleeves and attempted to rise, but Sir Richard placed a restraining hand on her shoulder.

“
Please stay where you are, nurse. I seem to have intruded; certainly I didn
’
t expect to find anyone here. There must be some good reason for you to be resting in the middle of the morning?
”
He put his ha
n
d beneath her chin and turned her face to the light. How white she looked! It seemed fairly obvious why she was not at work. With the sun playing on the bright halo of her hair, she seemed unnaturally pale, almost unreal, ethereal. Why, that evening in the rain she had a gay, rosy blush, so different from her present air of fragility.
“
You don
’
t look very fit. What
’
s the matter? Is the heat getting you down?
”
he enquired solicitously.

“
Yes, I
’
m afraid so,
”
Mary replied apologetically.
“
Sister told me to lie down until I was due in the theatre.
”
She glanced at the clock half fearfully.
“
I hope I
’
m not late ... I must have slept
...”

Sir Richard smiled reassuringly.
“
No, indeed not. As a matter of fact, I was trying to find Sister to tell her that I
’
d probably be a bit late myself.
”
He searched Mary
’
s face with intent scrutiny.
“
You
’
re not attending any operations today, in any case, nurse,
”
he added firmly.

“
What do you mean, Sir Richard? I must. It
’
s my turn for theatre duty. Of course I shall have to be there.
”

“
You certainly will not be there.
”
Sir Richard
’
s mouth set in the determined fashion that was so familiar to Mary, and which the hero-worshippers declared was part of his charm.
“
You are not going on duty again today, or, if I had my way, for several days to come. When is your holiday due?
”
he questioned abruptly.

“
Not for nearly three months yet.
”
Mary forced a smile.
“
Sounds fantastic, doesn
’
t it?
”

“
It is fantastic,
”
Sir Richard retorted grimly.
“
We shall have to do something about that.
”

Mary drew her brows together in a slight frown.
“
Oh no, that wouldn
’
t be possible. I shall be quite all right, really I shall,
”
she protested vehemently. But even as she spoke she longed with all her heart that it would be possible for him to do something.
”
She caught her lower lip between her teeth and scarcely dared to picture the outlook his words had conjured. Not to have to work any more for a few days: that would be unimaginable heaven
...
If only it could be true! But, even as the picture presented itself, she thrust it back
...
Accept favours from this man, be dependent upon his help to obtain leave! No it wouldn
’
t be worth it. He
’
d done his best to make her life at hospital more difficult than it had already been, and now, with a wave of his hand, he intended showing her how wonderful, how mighty; his position was. Only a word from him, and she could have the very thing she most desired. Never would she accept his favours; she
’
d rather be miserable, ill if necessary, before she
’
d give in.

“
I shall be quite all right,
”
she repeated obstinately.
“
It is quite unnecessary for you to do anything about it.
”

“
It isn
’
t possible to give satisfactory work if you
’
re not fit; it
’
s not fair to your patients ... or to anyone else,
”
Sir Richard insisted gently.
“
Now, Nurse Grant, be reasonable. You admit you
’
re tired. I
’
ll send Matron a chit suggesting a short sick-leave, or perhaps she can arrange for you to have your holiday earlier. I don
’
t like to feel that any nurse is working unless thoroughly fit.
”

“
Please don
’
t trouble.
”
There was a hint of finality in Mary
’
s tone. Not fit, indeed! How she longed to tell him that, if she wasn
’
t fit, he was undoubtedly partly to blame. A wakeful night, living again the unforgettable incident of the day, hearing again in her dreams the snubs of her fellow-nurses.

Sir Richard turned away and stared through the wide
-
open windows.
“
Don
’
t you think it
’
s rather a pity to let personal feelings influence you when it
’
s a matter of health? No, don
’
t interrupt me,
”
he added, as Mary made to speak.
“
I know exactly what you are going to say
...
some absurd repetition of your previous protest that
‘
you will be quite all right.
’
I am the best judge of that.
”
Sir Richard turned round and faced Mary; the sympathy had left his expression and his voice hardened as he continued speaking.
“
You have some personal resentment against me. You told me that clearly enough the other night, but I fail to see what it has to do with the present matter. My suggestion that you should take leave is entirely impersonal;
I should make it to any nurse that I considered unfit. If you refuse to take my suggestion, then, without your consent,
I shall approach Matron and make it an order.
”

Mary felt the hot colour rush to her cheeks. So he had practically read her thoughts, realized that she refused to be indebted to him. She clenched her hands as they lay on her lap. Well, she only hoped that he had also read the reason, appreciated the fact that, if her dislike had been previously merely passive, she had now good reason to hate him.

“
Of course, you will do whatever you wish
...
Why bother to ask me, then?
”
Mary
’
s tone was bitterly resentful. Mustering her strength, she swung her legs over the end of the couch. Even as her feet touched the floor, she was suddenly aware of the strange and uncontrollable weakness which suddenly assailed her. She swayed, and would have fallen but for her companion
’
s firm grip on her arm.