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Authors: Marjorie Moore

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BOOK: To Please the Doctor
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Never mind about me,

Jill interrupted, knowing only too well that once her old Nurse got warmed to the subject of her own merits, she might go on interminably.

Tell me about Terry. I

m terribly disappointed that he

s ill. How is the young rascal?


To tell you the truth, Jill, I

m hoping the doctor will be along soon. I

m a bit worried about Terry. His temperature does seem to jump about so, and I

ve never known him complain of his head aching before, he is so limp and lifeless too. It will do him a power of good to see you, maybe take him out of himself. You know he isn

t one for temperatures. I

ve a feeling it

s more than a chill, and he is sickening for something this time—maybe measles, you never can tell what you pick up in the pictures. I don

t hold with them myself; but there, you can

t keep children in cotton wool all their lives, and Terry

s got to take his chance like all the others.


What does Dr. Sharland say?

Jill asked.


Talked about gastric

flu, but he didn

t seem all that certain. Bit baffled himself if you ask me; said if it was measles the rash might not show for a day or so—as if I didn

t know that,

she ended on a note of indignation.


You can only wait and see, keep him warm and in bed for the time being. Some of those children

s infections are difficult to diagnose at first.

She paused in listening attitude.

Wasn

t that Terry moving? Shall we go along and have a peep, I

m just longing to see him.

Jill had sadly missed Terry

s welcome on her arrival—his sturdy little figure hastening to meet her, the leap into her arms and the tugging clasp at her neck. His greeting now was different but no less moving, and as she leaned over his cot his ecstatic murmurs of joy and his warm encircling hold almost brought tears to her eyes.


You

ve comed ... my own Jill! I

m so glad you

ve co
m
ed. I said in my prayers for God to send you. I say it every night, I do really. I never forget. I puts
i
t in with
the bit about blessing Mummy and Daddy so I can

t forget, can I?

He pressed his flushed cheek against Jill

s and drew her down closer.

Jill sank to her knees beside the cot and gently disentangling the encircling clasp of the boy

s chubby arms, gazed down into the wide blue eyes so filled with undisguised adoration.

I always come and see you when I can, you know that, don

t you, sweetheart? I

ve much further to come now, so I can

t be with you as often as before, but you

ve got Mummy, land Daddy and Nana, so you aren

t ever really lonely, are you?


No, but I want you too.

He pressed his head into the circle of Jill

s arms and cuddled close against her.

Are you lonely or have you got somebody what cuddles you when you stay away all those long
?

Jill smiled, but aware that the heavy lids were gradually dropping over the child

s eyes, made no effort to respond. Looking up, she addressed Nana in lowered tones.

He is very drowsy—hot, too—how about a sponge down? Did the doctor suggest it?


Yes, it seems to make him more comfortable, but all the same the doing of it seems to worry him.

She frowned.

Irritable and touchy he is, grizzles every
tim
e
I try to sit him up or move him.


Why should he?

Jill questioned, although the words were obviously not particularly addressed to anyone and only echoed her thoughts. As she rose to her feet Terry turned restlessly, a troubled sigh escaping his lips.

Let

s see what we can do about it. I

ll give you a hand.

Jill was already rolling back her sleeves as she spoke and tying round her waist a rubber apron which she had taken from a chair.

“I’ll
get some hot water,

Nana agreed readily, obviously glad to have Jill

s expert aid.

Perhaps I don

t handle him right; maybe he

ll be better with you.

As she bustled around collecting water and warm towels, she went on speaking.

Doctor ought to be here soon, he usually comes around mid-day, we

ll just have time to get Terry comfortable and settled down again.

She gave a ponderous sigh.
“I do
hope he finds him better this morning.

The task was only just completed when Dr. Sharland arrived. An elderly man, who had tended Jill in all her childish ailments, he greeted her with a hearty handshake.

Well now, isn

t it nice to see you, looking so bonny too, and I hear you are holding a fine post these days.

Jill nodded, then forced a smile. She didn

t feel one bit like idle chatter, and she knew only too well how garrulous the old doctor could be, she longed for him to turn his attention to Terry, to allay her, anxiety, an anxiety which she found difficult to explain.

I expect you want to have a look at Terry, so I won

t keep you now.

Jill moved towards the door. She knew she should have stayed, but some underlying instinct urged her to escape. She must get away, she told herself, away from this well-meaning old
man
.
She must find Philip, share her concern with him, let him laugh away these ridiculous fears.

I—I

ll see you again presently, of course. You must join us downstairs and have a sherry before you leave.

She hoped her tone was
natur
al
.

Mother will want to hear your opinion of Terry.

Jill closed the door behind her, then leaned her back against it, glad of the support. What was the matter with her? She, an experienced nurse, behaving like a hysterical schoolgirl. Taking a grip on herself she walked down the wide stairway, her hand sliding listlessly on the oak balustrade. Just a few more minutes, then surely Dr. Sharland—and Philip too—would laugh at her fears, yet she found herself going over again every detail of those moments spent at Terry

s bedside. Nana was at times inclined to be over-anxious, but this indisposition might so well prove to be more serious than a
c
hill
—more serious than measles, too. Jill caught her breath and stood for a moment irresolute at the foot of the imposing stairway. Again, a nameless fear held her in grip, an apprehension she could not dismiss. Was it due to her years of experience of children

s diseases which was compelling her to view what was
probably nothing more than a feverish cold with something approaching panic? Involuntarily she found herself closing her eyes, visualizing again his drooping head, hearing the child s whimpers of distress ... It couldn

t be, she told herself
firmly
.
Her love for Terry was making her unreasonable, and
fill
ing her with senseless apprehension—surely no way for a nurse to behave? With measured steps she crossed the parquet floor of the hall and threw open the door leading to the lounge. Forcing a smile to her lips she joined the small group gathered before the wide, open fireplace.


Hello, darling, how did you find Terry?

Without awaiting a reply Lady Hallard went on:

Sit down and have a sherry, you look tired. I expect you

ve been overworking. I shall never understand why you persist in keeping on with that ridiculous
job of yours,

she ended plaintively.


No—thanks, I

ll not have a sherry.

Jill was glad that her voice was steady, although it sounded far off, as if someone else were speaking.

Dr. Sharland is here, but I don

t expect he

ll be long. I thought that if Philip came up now he might just get a peep at Terry before lunch.

Philip must have recognised her appealing glance
in his direction which denied her apparently casual words. He rose with alacrity in an effort to forestall any protest from Sir Trevor or Lady Hallard, and placing his glass on a side table, joined Jill.


Why not wait, it

s nearly lunch-time. You can go up to the nursery after,

Sir Trevor protested.

Come along, Philip, have another drink?


We won

t be a moment.

Jill almost pulled Philip from the room, then, allowing him no time for argument, hurried him up the stairway out of earshot of the library. At the first landing she paused and, turning to
c
onfront her companion, addressed him in breathless tones.

Listen, P
hili
p, I

m worried. I can

t wait until after lunch, the very sight of food would choke me. It

s Terry, it

s not like me
to
p
anic, but I believe this is more than a chill.” Her voice
b
roke and for a moment she was unable to continue, then, choking back her emotions, she went on more calmly. “You must see him yourself and tell me what you
think
.
Dr. Sharland is with him now, but I haven’t much faith in him. The child’s posture worries me, his persistent headache, too, every symptom appears’ to be consistent with meningitis. I may be terribly wrong, over-concerned because I love him. Perhaps you’ll laugh me out of my fears
...
I hope you will! Go in to Terry now. Dr. Sharland won

t mind; he

ll probably remember you. Anyway, he knows that you are just a friend of the family. Oh, P
hili
p, I

m so scared, for goodness sake hurry up and put me out of my misery.


Of course I

ll see him if you want me to, and if Dr. Sharland doesn

t mind.

Philip slipped a reassuring arm through hers.

Come along, lead the way and stop worrying. I

m not particularly experienced in these cases, but I

ve seen a few of them, so no doubt I can give some sort o
f
opinion. I

m pretty sure you

re jumping to conclusions, an over-anxiety complex or something.

He pressed her arm more closely to his side.

Snap out of it, Jill, I expect young Terry will be up and about in no time and kicking a football around by the end of the week, and you
’ll
be kicking yourself around for getting worked up about
nothing!

Ten minutes later when Dr. Sharland, followed by Philip, emerged from the night nursery, it was all too obvious to Jill that they shared her own doubts.


Your young friend here has been very helpful.

Dr. Sharland began pulling uneasily at his white moustache.

I am not too happy about Terry this morning, and Dr. Traven agrees that another opinion might be advisable. I

m glad you are home, Jill, this is going to upset your mother quite a lot. I suppose I

d better go down and have a word
with her about it.

Jill, aware of the comforting grip of Philips hand on her arm, braced herself to speak.

Yes, you

d better tell them, they are in the library.

Her tone was even and quite devoid of expression.

Who would you care to have down in consultation? I—I would like someone immediately.

Her voice broke, but pulling herself together she continued with almost unnatural calm,

Can you arrange that
?

Dr. Sharland glanced enquiringly at Philip.

We

ll have to get someone down from town, of course. I don

t know
what Dr. Traven thinks
—” He
broke off and turned
again to Jill.

Perhaps one of you would care to make a suggestion? There is Mayne from St. Cedric

s, he is a good
man
; or Humphrey, he is of course attached to Baldwins —but there, you two make up your minds while I go down and have a word with Sir Trevor and Lady Hallard.

Jill watched the Doctor

s
portly
figure disappearing down the stairway, then, without conscious volition, allowed Philip to lead her into the day nursery. Her knees felt unsteady and she was glad to sink down to the window-seat. For a moment, she remained speechless, staring out across
the lawn now thinly covered with a white carpet of snow. Soft flakes fell against the window, then, turning to moisture, trickled down the pane.


Jill, my dear.

Philip

s tone was gentle.

You mustn

t let go of yourself, you are just jumping to conclusions; things may not be nearly as serious as you think.

Not trusting herself to speak, Jill returned the pressure of Philip

s fingers which clasped hers, but her
eyes
still stared across the garden at the bare branches of the trees now flecked with white, and the sunken pond, now frozen but from which in the summer a fountain gushed, sparkling in the sunlight...


Jill, who would you like to see Terry? Humphrey will remember you, he

d come down all right. Shall I see if I can catch him? He

s probably in Harley Street at lunch time.


Would Duncan McRey come?

Jill was scarcely conscious of speaking. The name had come unbidden to her lips, but even as she asked the question she knew that, despite her brief acquaintance with Dr. McRey, with him alone would she feel safe and confident. A new hope was already filling her heart. And as she lifted her face to Philip it was mirrored in her eyes.

Phone him, Philip; phone him now.

She twined her fingers together until her knuckles whitened and there was a note of urgency in her voice as she added:

Make him understand. Oh,
Phili
p, please make him come!

BOOK: To Please the Doctor
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