Queenie (14 page)

‘Hello, little funny face,’ she said, rushing up to me.

I put my hands to my face, mortified. For a long time now I’d had a creeping suspicion that I was ugly. Mum often sighed when she brushed my hair and told not to
pull that face
– though I never knew quite what face it was I was pulling. Even Nan would push her thumb into one side of my mouth and her finger into the other, and go ‘Cheer up, chicken!’

I screwed up my face even more, trying not to think about Nan.

‘Hey, hey, don’t look such a saddo,’ said the fat nurse, pulling my hands away. ‘What’s your name, eh?’

‘Elsie Kettle,’ I mumbled.

‘Well, I’m Nurse Johnson. Now, you’re still under observation, so you can wash yourself like a good girl, as I’m all behind like the horse’s tail,’ she said. She gave me a bowl of warm water to balance on my knees. ‘Don’t you spill it, mind!’

I started to wash myself carefully – and then very nearly
did
spill the bowl when the beautiful blonde nurse came in with the food trolley. Her white cap sat neatly on her golden curls and her blue eyes shone as she smiled straight at me.

‘Hello, Elsie!’ she said.

‘Oh Nurse Gabriel!’ I said, overcome.

So she was real after all – and she truly
was
an angel. She behaved as if she were meeting me for the first time so that Martin and the others should not suspect a thing. She gave me my cornflakes with extra sugar and top of the milk, and she cut my toast into four neat quarters, just like Nan did.

She wasn’t just kind to
me
, she was kind to everyone, even horrible Martin. He said he wasn’t hungry and didn’t want his very-rude-word breakfast. Nurse Johnson heard, and gasped and said, ‘That child needs his mouth washing out with soap,’ and she held her cake of carbolic up threateningly.

‘It’s OK, Johnson, I’ll deal with the little monster,’ said Nurse Gabriel. ‘Little
green
monster, like the weeny man from space on your pyjamas, Martin Harwood.’

‘He’s not a monster, he’s the Mekon,’ said Martin scornfully. ‘He’s in the
Eagle
. Don’t you know anything?’

‘Oh, my head’s full of dull stuff like my
Orthopaedics for Nurses
book and the problem page in
Woman’s Own
,’ said Nurse Gabriel, laughing. ‘Maybe I’ll give myself a spot of serious instruction just now. Do you have a copy of the
Eagle
handy, Martin?’

‘It’s in my locker, you know it is,’ said Martin, but he didn’t sound cross now.

‘Well, here’s the deal,’ said Nurse Gabriel. ‘I’ll park myself beside you and we’ll read it together. I’ll find out all about Mr Mekon while you eat half your cornflakes. Is that a deal?’

‘I said, I’m not hungry,’ said Martin – but when Nurse Gabriel shrugged and seemed about to turn away, he added quickly, ‘But it’s a deal.’

She shook his hand and then gave him his comic. It was hard for him to read flat on his back, so after a moment or two she started reading it aloud, acting it all out solemnly, doing a gruff masculine voice for Dan Dare and a weird squeaky voice for the Mekon. As she read, she spooned cornflakes into Martin as if he were a baby. His mouth opened and he chewed and swallowed automatically. He burst out laughing at one point, spraying cornflakes, and Nurse Gabriel laughed too, and wiped the slurp from his chin all in one quick move.

‘You’re spoiling that boy,’ said Nurse Johnson, puffing past.

‘No, I’m spoiling myself – this
Eagle
comic is truly super,’ said Nurse Gabriel.

I watched her as she circled the ward, making almost every child laugh and eat with gusto. She was wonderful when it came to the dreaded toileting too, even constructing a blanket tent so that Gillian, the eldest girl with the ponytail, could have a little privacy.

I was starting to differentiate between all the other children too, so they weren’t just blurs in beds. By the end of the day I knew everyone’s name. In the row opposite were big Gillian with her ponytail, her whiny friend Rita, then two little girls who giggled together – Maureen with curly hair and little pink glasses, and Babette, with very short tufty hair as if some large grazing animal had been chewing on it. On one side of me I had Martin the rude boy, and on the other side was little Michael. Silent Angus in his plaster bed came last.

I looked hopefully at the girls, wondering if any of them might be my special friend. Rita hung on every word Gillian said, and often squeaked, ‘Oooh Gilly, you are awful!’ Maureen and Babette were much younger than me and didn’t seem interested in anyone else anyway.

It didn’t look as if I would have a friend here either – though I certainly had an enemy in Martin. All morning he whispered hoarsely about the Bed of Doom, even though I stuck my fingers in my ears and went, ‘La-la-la-la, can’t hear a sausage!’

Then a doctor in a white coat with a stethoscope round his neck came strolling into the ward with Sister Baker, the two nurses behind him – Nurse Patterson with her sticking-out ears, and curly-haired Nurse Curtis.

‘Where’s Nurse Gabriel?’ I asked anxiously.

‘She’s on nights. She’s gone off duty now. These are the day nurses. Don’t you know
anything?
’ said Martin.

‘And that’s the day doctor? What’s his name?’

‘Doctor
Torture
!’ Martin hissed. ‘Watch out, here he comes. He’s going to get you now, Gobface.’

I slid right down in my bed, hoping that the doctor would walk right past – and when he stopped and pulled the sheets off my face, I shut my eyes tight, pretending to be fast asleep.

‘Wakey wakey, little sleepyhead,’ he said. ‘I’m Doctor Tortel – and you must be Elsie.’ He tickled me gently under the chin.

I was still very frightened of what he might do to me, but I couldn’t be frightened of
him
. He examined my knee and the rest of my leg and my hip. Then he had me walk round my bed, humming softly as he watched.

‘Mmm – a clear case,’ he murmured. ‘Lucky it was spotted. I’ll confer with Sir David, but I’m pretty sure we’ll put her in a Thomas’s knee bed splint tomorrow.’

‘In
Thomas’s
one?’ I said.

Dr Tortel and Sister Baker and the nurses all laughed at me.

‘It’s just a silly name, called after the man who invented it. It will be
Elsie’s
bed splint,’ said Dr Tortel.

‘I don’t want one,’ I told him.

‘You want to get better, don’t you?’

‘Yes, but not if I have to be tied up,’ I said firmly. ‘Not like the others.’

‘It doesn’t hurt, I promise. It’s just a little uncomfortable at times. Isn’t that right, Martin?’ the doctor said, turning his head.

‘No, it hurts terribly –
especially
her kind of splint,’ said Martin.

‘You’re a bad boy,’ said Dr Tortel, but he laughed. ‘Don’t you listen to Martin’s tall stories, Elsie. I think you two must be a similar age. You’ll soon be great pals.’

I stared after him as he walked down the ward. He might be a clever doctor but he was a very stupid man.

Martin clearly thought so too. ‘He’s mad. I wouldn’t be friends with you in a million years, Gobface,’ he hissed.

‘Now then, Martin, we all know you’re just missing Robert,’ said Nurse Curtis. ‘Look, will you lend Elsie your
Eagle
comic for a bit, sweetheart? I’m sure she’d like something fun to read while we’re finishing the rounds.’

‘
I’m
reading it,’ said Martin, struggling with it.

‘I don’t like the
Eagle
anyway,’ I lied. I’d never actually read it, but I liked the sound of the little
green
Mekon. I imagined him spinning down to Earth in his flying saucer, stepping straight into Blyton Ward, and zapping Martin with his evil ray-gun as he lay there helpless.

‘I’d sooner read my own
Girl
,’ I said firmly. ‘Will it be back from the fumigator’s yet, Nurse Curtis?’

‘Not yet, lovey. Give it a few days,’ she said.

I felt too depressed to look at the old
Chicks’ Own
comic she found for me in little Michael’s locker. It was te-di-ous ba-by rub-bish an-y-way, with all the words broken into little bits. I watched the toileting and then the terrible injections. My heart started thudding hard when Nurse Patterson came near me with that awful huge syringe, but she walked straight past and attacked Martin.

I hated Martin and I’d just commanded the Mekon to attack him with his ray-gun, but I couldn’t help feeling sorry for him when he screamed.

I thought we might have a bit of peace till lunch time, so I was surprised when Nurse Patterson and Nurse Curtis seized little Michael’s bed and started trundling it noisily right out of the ward.

‘Where are they taking him?’ I asked Martin.

‘They’re taking him away to the torture chamber – and
you’re
next,’ he said, his voice still jerky from crying.

‘You’re just telling silly lies. You’re pathetic. You can’t scare me,’ I fibbed.

I decided the nurses were probably taking him to the bathroom to give him a proper bath, though I wasn’t sure how his horrible frame and buckles and straps would all fit into the tub – but in a minute they came back without him.

‘Nurse Curtis, where’s Michael?’ I whispered.

‘Oh, we’ve just taken him to play in the sunshine,’ she said. ‘You’re next, sweetheart.’

I stared at her. I was sure Nurse Curtis couldn’t be a liar too – but what did she
mean?
How could Michael play outdoors when he was clearly very ill and strapped rigid on his bed?

The two nurses seized my bed and trundled me down the ward. Martin went ‘Ha-ha-haaaa!’ like someone in a horror film. I knew he was simply trying to wind me up, but it was
working
. I had tight knots in my stomach and I could hardly breathe.

‘Nurse Curtis!’ I gasped.

‘What’s up, pet? Are we pushing you too fast? You’re not getting giddy, are you?’ she said.

‘You won’t let anyone hurt me, will you?’ I whispered it, but Nurse Patterson heard and snorted.

‘Don’t be such a silly sausage, Elsie Kettle. No one’s going to hurt you!’ She laughed mirthlessly at the idea – and yet half an hour ago I’d seen her
reduce
tough Martin to tears with her injection.

They pushed me through a set of double doors, out onto a veranda. Michael’s bed was already there. He was huddled under his covers, shivering. There was a very watery smudge of sun between the clouds, but a chill wind was blowing and it felt desperately cold. It might be spring but it felt like January.

‘It’s cold out here,’ I said plaintively.

‘Nonsense! You’re in your lovely cosy bed,’ said Nurse Patterson.

It wasn’t cosy at all. I had a sheet and one pale green thin blanket. I tucked the
Chicks’ Own
comic over my chest, which helped a little. The nurses went off to collect the next child.

‘Why are they shoving us out here?’ I asked Michael. ‘Have we been naughty?’

‘We always come out here. It’s to get fresh air,’ he said. His face was blue-white and pinched with the cold. I felt so sorry for him I slipped out of bed and gave him back his
Chicks’ Own
, tucking it under his little armpits.

‘There now, that’s a bit cosier, isn’t it?’ I said.

Michael gave me a sudden beaming smile. I grinned back at him and held his tiny frozen hand. He was much too little to be in hospital, tied up in this terrible manner. The covers were hiding his
straps
and buckles, but I could see the shape of all the little knobs through his blanket.

Then the nurses came back trundling Martin – and Nurse Patterson shouted at me.

‘Get back into bed this instant, Elsie Kettle! You’re on total bed rest, like the other children. Don’t you
dare
start messing about.’

‘But Michael was so cold. I was only trying to warm him up,’ I protested.

‘You have to learn to do as you’re told,’ said Nurse Patterson. ‘We know what’s best for you. It’s essential that you all have lots of good fresh air. It will improve your general health, stimulate your appetite, and make you sleep better.’

‘But I’m shivering!’

‘Because you’re out of bed! Now get back in before I smack your bottom, young lady.’

I got back in sharpish. Martin was giggling at me. When the nurses marched off to fetch the next bed, I pulled a face at their backs.

‘I’ll smack
her
bottom back,’ I muttered.

Martin sniggered and Michael went into peals of laughter. ‘I’ll smack her bottom too!’ he gurgled.

‘No, Gobface can push our beds and we’ll run her over. Watch out, Nurse Patterson, you’re going to get
squashed
,’ said Martin.

We warmed up a little inventing fresh ways of getting
even
with Nurse Patterson, suddenly united. Big Gillian joined in when she was pushed onto the veranda with us. Our beds were pushed so close together they were almost touching, so it was much easier to talk. Angus didn’t say anything at all when he joined us, but Rita and Babette and Maureen laughed too, coming up with inventive new ways to humiliate Nurse Patterson. It was still hard work remembering which of the two little girls was which, and I mixed them up.

‘
I’ve
got straight hair and Maureen’s curly – it’s
simple
, Gobface,’ said Babette.

I couldn’t stop Martin, but Babette was just a little squirt of a girl and I wasn’t going to let her insult me. ‘I’m not Gobface, I’m Elsie. It’s
simple
, Babette,’ I said fiercely.

‘Oh shut up, you small fry, I’m blooming
perishing
,’ said Gillian, and when the nurses came back, she called Nurse Curtis. She clearly knew it was a waste of time appealing to Nurse Patterson.

‘Look at all my goose pimples! Couldn’t I at least have my cardie from my locker?’ she said.

Nurse Curtis rubbed her own chilly arms. ‘Yes, it is a bit nippy today. Tell you what – I’ll see about hot-water bottles,’ she said.

‘It’s
spring
now, Curtis,’ said Nurse Patterson crisply. ‘They’re only allowed hot-water bottles in winter.’

‘Oh, pish posh,’ said Nurse Curtis. ‘It’ll only take ten minutes and then they’ll be so much happier.’