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Authors: Sheila Ridley

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BOOK: Outpost Hospital
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CHAPTER TWO

During the week that followed, Katherine saw Mark several times. He visited his patients in her ward nearly every day and once, when she was in charge, he had coffee with her in the office,
but he was his usual formal self and did not refer to the subject that was uppermost in her mind.

His silence made her wonder in panic if he had changed his mind. Had he decided that perhaps she was not the right person for the job? Or was it just that he wanted to leave her free to make her choice without any further discussion?

Time passed very slowly, but at last the day appointed for their meeting arrived. Knowing that she would be unable to concentrate on her work, Katherine had chosen this as her day off.

At six o’clock, weary of sitting in her room, she put on her fur-collared blue coat and a matching beret, because a strong wind was blowing, and went out.

It was almost dark already, and rain was in the gusts of wind that threatened to carry off her beret. Securing it with one hand, she ran through the gritty, dismal streets until she came to a row of brightly lit shops. The windows were lit with the colorful trappings of Christmas—cards, gifts, wrapping paper, even though it was only the beginning of October.

Christmas, thought Katherine. Where would her Christmas be spent? Since he had already made up his mind, she guessed that Mark Charlton would not want to delay longer than necessary. So it was possible that they might be
in
Africa by Christmas. She would give a month’s notice at work, and the journey—by boat, as Mark said he preferred—would be a long one, something like three weeks, she guessed.

Quite suddenly, she began to feel excited at her future! Her knowledge of the place she was going to, and what her life would be like, was very sketchy. There would be a great deal to learn, but it would be an adventure and a challenge. And it would be a complete change from gray Grinsley!

Funny how it was only during this past week or two that she had really noticed how dreary and ugly the little town was, though she had lived and worked in it for three years.

Leaving the shops behind her, she reached the sea-wall and stood looking down at the cold waves breaking on the mossy rocks. Darkness was deepening and the moon glinted on the water, so that two fishing boats stood out against it.

By turning her head she could see the imposing old Church of St. Hilda. The pointers of the clock were barely discernible. Seven o’clock.

In the other direction was the dim yellow glow of the cafe sign—the cafe where she would meet Mark Charlton and tell him that she would go with him to Africa, or to the North Pole, or the moon, if he asked her.

That little cafe. She could remember every detail: the linoleum with its pattern almost nonexistent after many washings and the passage of many feet; the huge antlers where Mark had hung her coat; the red and white cloth on the counter. She could have wished for a better setting for this important meeting but, unromantic though it was, she knew that the seafront cafe would often be in her thoughts as a treasured memory.

It was raining heavily now, and she ran quickly toward the yellow light.

Once inside, she leaned against the door to catch her breath. The place was quiet and apparently empty.

Taking off her coat and beret, she hung them up and went to sit in the first booth.

Half-past seven. He would be here at any moment. She must keep calm. When he asked her—

“What can I get you, dearie?”

The voice breaking in on her thoughts made her start. It was the plump woman who had served them before.

Katherine told her she was waiting for someone, and after automatically wiping over the table with a damp cloth, the woman went back to the kitchen.

Glancing around, Katherine caught sight of herself in the wall mirror. Her hair was clinging damply to her forehead, and her cheeks, usually pale, were bright from the buffeting of the wind. She rubbed her hair with her handkerchief in an effort to dry it and then found that she had no comb with her. Oh well, she sighed, he wouldn’t notice if her hair were bright green!

A quarter to eight and still he had not come!

Three times in the past ten minutes the door had opened and her heart had leapt; and each time a stranger had entered. So when it opened a fourth time she did not look up, but went on carefully smoothing out her damp gloves on the table.

He had forgotten their appointment perhaps.

But suddenly, there he was, looking bigger than ever in his gray raincoat, a few drops of rain glistening in his black hair. “Sorry I’m late, Nurse. Surgery was full when we closed the doors—mostly people with colds or flu who would’ve been better off taking a couple of aspirins and going to bed.” He took off his coat and hung it up. “What will you have?”

“Just coffee, please,” she said.

When it was brought, he wasted no time but came straight to the point. “Well, Nurse
,
what is it to be? Yes or no? Or do you want more time to consider?”

“I don’t want more time, Dr. Charlton,” she answered steadily. “If you think I can be of use to you, I’ll come to Africa.”

“Good. I didn’t think you’d disappoint me,” he said happily. His eyes were very blue; very bright; but they weren’t on her now, Katherine noticed with a pang. He was seeing a place very different from the dingy cafe; a place he had never seen in fact, but the picture in his mind was more vivid than anything else now. “There’s so much to do there, Nurse; so many people needing us.” He put his hand over hers and a shudder ran through her at his touch. “I don’t think you’ll regret it, Nurse. How soon can you be ready to go? If you give your notice in now, can you be ready when the month is up?”

She told him she could.

He nodded, practical now. “I’ve been accepted by the Mission Society, and I’ve begun winding up my affairs, so it shouldn’t be long before we’re on our way. I’ve had a letter from the minister in charge of the station. We’ll be living with him and his sister, at first anyway. He told me that a doctor is urgently needed in Ngombe—that’s the village we’re going to. It’s on the Benue river leading off the Niger, in the eastern part of the country. Kennedy, the minister, has found a site he thinks will be suitable for the hospital, so we’ll be able to start on it as soon as we arrive.” As he talked, Katherine began to be infected by his enthusiasm and to feel the excitement she had known earlier.
“I’ll let you have any more information you need as I get it,” he went on.

Then, finishing his coffee quickly, he stood up. “Now I must rush away. Got a couple of calls to make. Can I drive you anywhere?” She said no, and, after reminding her to put in her notice the next day, he raised a hand in a brief salute and walked swiftly away.

The door closed behind him with a tinkle of its warning bell. There was the sound of his car starting up, driving away, and then silence.

A man in the next booth started whistling under his breath. Katherine knew the tune; it was an old song—what was it called? Oh, yes. “All alone, I’m so all alone, And there’s no one else but you


He didn’t know how appropriate his choice was.

She sat looking at the place where Mark had been sitting, at the stub of the cigarette he had been smoking. She could hardly believe this was happening to her.

 

CHAPTER THREE

A
few days after leaving the hospital, Katherine was to have her last meeting with Mark Charlton before they met at Southampton to board the boat. He was to spend the last week with his parents in London, and she had been surprised to receive a letter from him saying that he would visit her that evening. There was something he wanted to talk to her about before the trip.

Throughout the day, as she polished and dusted, arranged flowers, shampooed and set her hair, she tried to guess why he was coming.

When she could find nothing else to do downstairs and it was still only six o’clock,
s
he went up to her room and started packing one of the suitcases she would be taking with her. Most of her luggage had been sent oh in advance.

She took a large box down from the shelf in the wardrobe and opened it. From among the folds of tissue paper, she lifted a dress.
It was made of stiff silk in pale pink and it shimmered in the light as she shook it out. The style was simple; a low boat-shaped neckline, fitting bodice and a full skirt, smooth at the front but with dozens of deep, unpressed pleats at the back. There was a pair of matching shoes too.

What on earth had come over her that day? She had gone into the store for a skirt and a blouse that would have been far more use to her than a cocktail dress she would probably never wear. But as she went up the stairs she had kept thinking of Elizabeth Frayne and about how beautifully dressed she always was, and this had been the result! Certainly West Africa was no place for such fripperies. Not for a hard-working nurse, anyway.

There might be an opportunity to wear it on the voyage, though. And she replaced it in its box and put the box into her suitcase, the shoes beside it.

At seven o’clock, she had a bath and put on a rose pink woollen dress. It was her favorite, for the warm color seemed to reflect itself in her cheeks and make her eyes brighter; and the soft material made the best of her slender figure. She brushed her dark hair until it shone, put on lipstick to match her dress and went downstairs.

The little sitting room was looking its best, too. The lamplight was kind to the slightly worn carpet and armchairs. Bronze chrysanthemums in a blue jug gave color and fragrance, and a bright fire blazing in the hearth burnished the old-fashioned brass fender and companion set.

Katherine’s father, a thin balding man in spectacles, sat at his desk poring over some stamps he had recently added to his collection. He looked at her over his gold-rimmed glasses. “What a pity I don’t collect Africa,” he remarked in his dry voice. “You could have sent me the new issues with the first-day postmarks. Perhaps not, though. I don’t suppose there’ll be a post office on the corner,” he chuckled. “Not even a letter box, I daresay.”

Katherine was hardly listening. Her ears were straining for the sound of a car.

At last it came, followed by a knock.

As she let him in, she noticed that Dr. Charlton’s dark face was serious, more so than usual. He was almost frowning as he went with her into the sitting room.

Mr. Marlowe looked up again from his beloved albums. “Ah, Dr. Charlton! This is very nice, meeting you again. It will be a long time until our next meeting, eh? But this is a noble work you are undertaking and I wish you the success you deserve. Yes, indeed.” He stood up and took Mark’s hands in his. He looked very small and frail beside the younger man. “You will take care of my Katherine, I know. I don’t need to worry about her. Now I must go and see the vicar about Sunday’s hymns—I play the organ, you know. You might be gone by the time I get back so I’ll bid you goodbye.”

Katherine was standing by the window and, as the door closed behind her father, she turned to Mark.

He was watching her, a smile hovering uncertainly about his lips. He leaned against the table, his long legs crossed, and fumbled in his jacket pocket for cigarettes. “Well, Nurse, everything under control? All set for the great adventure?” he asked heartily, in a voice so unlike his usual self-assured way of speaking that Katherine was puzzled, until she realized what was wrong. He was nervous. How surprising! What could have happened to put him on edge like this?

“I think everything is arranged now,” she said, but doubt was in her voice. “Has anything happened? I mean—is there any change in the plans? When I received your letter I wondered—”

“Oh, no, the arrangements stand—for the most part anyway. The reason for this visit is that I’ve been staying with my sister, saying goodbye to her and her family, you know.” He was speaking quickly, flicking his lighter unsuccessfully.

Katherine went across and lit a match for him.

He thanked her and went on, staring into the fire, “Well, when we talked about my going to Africa and taking you as my assistant, my sister said that I was being unfair to you, asking you to live in an isolated place so far from your family and friends, without any sort of security. I hadn’t thought of it like that. She’s probably right, though. She’s a sensible woman.” He looked directly at Katherine, now. “So if you agree with her there’s just time, before we sail, for us to get married.”

 

CHAPTER FOUR


Get married? Us? Oh, no!” Katherine spoke without thinking; but then, it was unthinkable that she and Mark Charlton should marry simply because his sister thought it was the right thing to do. He hadn’t even pretended there was any other reason. He might have been offering to take out a comprehensive insurance policy for her! In fact, that was what his proposal amounted to. Indignation and distaste showed in her proud, pale face and startled gray eyes as she stood motionless, staring at him.

At her words, although he did not alter his position, Mark Charlton seemed to draw away, and his deep voice was cold and hard when he spoke. “I see. I thought it best to find out how you felt before we leave England. If you are quite happy with things as they are, we’ll let them stand.”

BOOK: Outpost Hospital
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