A Nightingale Christmas Wish (8 page)

‘Writing paper?’ Jess propped herself up on her elbows, weariness forgotten. ‘Who are you writing to?’

‘It’s for a patient, if you must know.’

Jess’s dark brows shot up. ‘You’re writing letters to a patient? Won’t Sister Blake mind? Sister Holmes doesn’t even approve of us looking at our patients, in case they become infatuated with us.’

Effie grinned. ‘Some chance, in this horrible old uniform! No, it’s for Mr Campbell. The young man who was in the car crash?’

‘Don’t tell me you’ve got a soft spot for him?’

‘No! Actually, he’s the most horrible man I’ve ever met. But I feel sorry for him. He seems sort of – lost.’

‘You
do
have a soft spot for him!’

‘No, I don’t,’ Effie denied heatedly. ‘I’m just being a good nurse, that’s all.’

‘A good nurse doesn’t get personally involved with her patients, Nurse O’Hara,’ Jess mimicked Sister Holmes’s strict tones. ‘But it’s hard not to sometimes, isn’t it? Some of them are so sad.’

‘I know.’ Effie found the writing paper at last and put it beside her bed so she wouldn’t forget it. Then she set about patiently folding up all her belongings and putting them back in the drawer. The Home Sister would create merry hell if she found a pair of stockings out of place.

‘Like your friend Mr Campbell’s mate,’ Jess went on. ‘He’s a very sad case. Tragic, in fact.’

Effie turned round. ‘You mean Mr Webster?’

‘That’s him.’ Jess shook her head. ‘Did you know he was engaged? Due to be married in the spring, apparently.’

‘Poor man.’ No wonder Adam Campbell felt so wretched about him.

‘Not much chance of that now, of course,’ Jess went on.

‘You never know.’

Jess sent her a pitying look. ‘Sister Holmes doesn’t think he’ll make it to Christmas. Not that anyone’s told his fiancée that,’ she went on. ‘Poor girl comes in every day, just to sit by his bed and hold his hand. So sad.’ She sighed. ‘Still, that’s love for you, I suppose.’

‘I suppose,’ Effie agreed. Not that she’d ever experienced such devotion herself. In spite of her best efforts, none of her boyfriends had ever shown more than a passing interest in her.

That was why she felt such sympathy for Adam Campbell. His girlfriend was treating him with similar indifference, and Effie knew he was breaking his heart over it.

Not that Jess seemed to understand, when Effie explained it to her. ‘I hope you’re not getting too involved,’ she warned.

‘Of course not. I don’t know why you’d think that.’

‘Because I know you.’ Jess smiled. ‘You’re far too soft-hearted for your own good.’

Effie frowned, irritated. ‘You sound just like my sisters!’ Why did everyone always think the worst of her?

When she returned to the ward the following morning, she went straight to Adam’s bed. Typically, he looked put out to see her.

‘You again,’ he groaned.

She smiled. ‘Did you miss me?’

‘Not really. You nurses are all the same to me.’

‘You’re a cheery soul, aren’t you?’ She reached into the bib of her apron. ‘I’ve a good mind not to give you this present.’

He looked sideways at her. ‘A present?’

She handed him the packet of writing paper. ‘I’ve brought this for you. So you can write to Adeline.’

‘You brought it for me?’ He stared at it, then at her. For a moment she thought he looked almost touched.

Then he lifted the notepaper to his face. ‘Why does it smell of cheap scent?’ he complained.

Effie sighed. And to think everyone imagined she would want to get involved with someone like him!

‘
I NEED YOUR
help,’ William said.

Helen paused halfway through pulling the red rubber mackintosh sheet off the bed. She and her brother had just finished the Gynae Outpatients’ clinic. William, a junior registrar, had taken the clinic, as the consultant Mr Cooper was away in France with his wife.

‘How much do you want?’ she sighed.

William looked offended. ‘I don’t need your money, thank you very much.’

‘There’s a first time for everything, I suppose.’

‘Do you mind? I’m not a penniless medical student any more.’

‘You could have fooled me. You certainly dress as if you are.’ Helen looked pointedly at his scuffed shoes. ‘So what do you want?’

William paused. ‘The thing is, I’m in rather a sticky situation. It’s not what you think,’ he insisted, as she rolled her eyes. ‘It isn’t woman trouble this time. Well, not entirely. Anyway, the long and the short of it is, I need someone to do a duet with me in the Christmas show.’

‘I thought your latest girlfriend was singing with you?’

‘Ah, well, you see, that’s the trouble. She is no more, I’m afraid.’

‘Not another one?’ After his long love affair with an orthopaedic doctor had ended a year earlier, William had returned to his old womanising ways. Much to Helen’s dismay and to the delight of the other nurses.

She regarded him across the consulting room. Tall and lanky, with a permanently dishevelled air and cowlick of dark hair that never seemed to lie flat, she couldn’t see what it was about him that other women found so irresistible. To her, he would always be an annoying big brother.

‘I know, I know,’ he sighed. ‘But it wasn’t my fault this time. She was the one who ended it, not me.’ He paused. ‘Admittedly, it was after she caught me kissing that delightful nurse on Male Medical, but all the same . . .’ He put on his appealing look, the melting dark eyes that she supposed worked a treat on other women. ‘Will you help me out, Helen? You don’t have to do much, just join in with the chorus and look pretty. You can do that, can’t you?’

‘The last thing I’d want to do is stand on a stage with you.’ Helen went back to stripping off the bed. ‘Why don’t you ask that delightful nurse on Male Medical?’

‘Delightful she may be, but her voice is as flat as a pancake.’ William grimaced. ‘Honestly, Hels, she’d make a cat sound like Dame Nellie Melba. You, on the other hand, have the voice of an angel.’

‘Oh, no.’ Helen shook her head. ‘You can’t get round me as easily as you can your empty-headed nurses, William Tremayne.’

‘Want to bet?’ He grinned. ‘Please, Helen. Just this once? I’m begging you. I’ve tried everyone else.’

‘So I’m your last resort? Thank you very much.’

‘Actually, Sister Wren is my last resort. She’s been hinting.’

Helen smiled. ‘That would serve you right. Come to think of it, Sister Wren is probably the one woman who hasn’t succumbed to your charms.’

‘Only because her heart belongs to Mr Cooper.’ William wrung his hands in supplication. ‘Please, Helen, even you wouldn’t be that heartless.’

‘We’ll see.’

‘Thank you.’

‘No promises,’ she said, but she could already feel herself weakening.

‘Of course not,’ William agreed, solemn-faced.

As Helen finished cleaning up, she said, ‘So is your girlfriend very angry with you?’

‘Utterly furious. It makes life rather difficult, actually, since now none of the staff on Wren is talking to me.’

‘Serves you right. I can’t feel sorry for you, William, because you bring these things on yourself. When are you going to learn that romance between doctors and nurses is a recipe for disaster?’

‘So there’s no chance for you and Dr McKay, then?’ he teased.

Helen shot him a warning look. ‘Don’t even mention that man’s name to me.’

‘You two still not getting on?’

‘Hardly.’ Helen sighed. In fact, things were even more frosty since their confrontation. He had stopped trying to humiliate her in front of the nurses, but now he barely spoke to her at all. It made the atmosphere inside the Casualty department almost as icy as the weather outside. ‘I’ve tried everything, William. I’ve done everything I possibly can, but no matter how hard I try, nothing I do is right.’

William frowned. ‘That doesn’t sound like the David McKay I know. I’ve always found him to be a thoroughly decent chap. Do you want me to have a word with him?’

‘No, thanks. I’ve got to fight my own battles.’

On Thursday afternoon, just over a week before Christmas Eve, Richard Webster surprised everyone by waking up.

Jess told Effie about it when she came off duty that night.

‘Everyone was amazed,’ she said. ‘They’d all given up on him after he’d been unconscious for so long. You should have seen Sister Holmes’s face, anyone would have thought she’d witnessed a Christmas miracle. She practically ran to fetch the doctor, which of course is unheard of.’

‘How is he now?’ Effie asked.

‘Well, there’s still some spinal damage and they don’t know if he’s going to make a full recovery, but at least it’s looking brighter than it was yesterday. I thought you’d want to know, so you can pass on the good news to your friend?’

‘Adam Campbell isn’t my friend,’ Effie said emphatically. If anything, he treated her worse than any of the other nurses. But unlike the others, Effie felt sorry for him. She wasn’t sure why, but she sensed that somehow under that gruff, surly exterior he was very sad.

He seemed to go out of his way to push away anyone close to him. Like the way he treated his father, for instance. When poor Mr Campbell had turned up on the previous visiting day to see his son, Adam had barely looked at him, let alone spoken. Effie wondered if he’d been as offhand with his girlfriend. Perhaps that was why the mysterious Adeline hadn’t come to see him?

As they got ready to go on duty the following morning, Effie asked Jess if she could go with her to Holmes to see Richard Webster for herself.

‘Certainly not!’ Jess replied, shocked. ‘Sister Holmes would have a fit. She’d never allow a student to wander in and out of her ward.’

‘She doesn’t come on duty until eight, I’ll be long gone by then,’ Effie said. ‘I have to be on duty myself by seven, so I’ll just pop in for a minute. Please? I want to make sure before I give Mr Campbell the news. I don’t want to raise his hopes.’

‘I don’t suppose I can stop you, can I?’ Jess said grudgingly. ‘But only a quick look, mind. And if the Night Sister catches you, I’ll deny I even know you.’

‘Fair enough.’ Effie grinned.

The surgical ward was in chaos, with extra beds lined up down the centre of it. The weary-looking night staff buzzed back and forth, serving breakfasts.

‘We had an appendix and two perfs in yesterday,’ Jess said. ‘Sister isn’t best pleased. We’re supposed to be getting patients home before Christmas, but as fast as we send them away, we keep getting more in.’

‘Which one is Mr Webster?’ Effie asked, gazing around.

‘They put him in a side room. Number three. Don’t be long, will you?’ Jess hissed. ‘If Staff sees you, pretend you’re one of the night students.’

The door to Room Three stood open. Richard Webster lay still in the bed, staring ahead of him. A tired-looking young woman in a red velvet coat sat at his bedside, holding his hand.

Effie had only intended to take a quick peek. But as she started to tiptoe away, the young woman looked up and spotted her.

‘Nurse?’ she called out. ‘Did you want to check on Richard?’

Effie put on her most professional smile and walked into the room. ‘I just wanted to make sure he was awake,’ she said truthfully. She picked up his chart and pretended to read it, her eyes skimming over the figures.

‘Yes, he is. Isn’t it wonderful?’ The young woman smiled, eyes shining. She was very pretty, with the kind of sleek bobbed blonde hair that Effie had always dreamed of having. ‘The doctor says it’s nothing short of a miracle. But I always knew he’d wake up. I prayed for him every day, you see. I never gave up hoping.’

‘It’s wonderful news, to be sure.’ Effie glanced at the diamond sparkling on the woman’s left hand. ‘I hear you’re engaged?’

‘Yes, we’re going to get married in the spring. I was beginning to think it might not happen, but now . . .’

Effie smiled back, but deep down she knew it would still be a miracle if Richard Webster were well enough to make his vows.

But the young woman was so radiant with happiness, Effie didn’t want to bring her down to earth. Besides, a Christmas miracle had already brought him out of his deep sleep; why shouldn’t there be another one?

Effie returned to Blake ward in high spirits. As on Holmes ward, the night staff were clearing away the breakfast dishes while the day nurses prepared to take over.

Her sister Bridget descended on Effie the moment she came through the double doors. ‘What’s the matter with you?’ she demanded. ‘Why have you got that silly grin on your face?’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘What have you been up to?’

‘Nothing!’ Effie said. ‘I’m just in a good mood, that’s all. You should try it sometime,’ she added in an undertone.

‘Less of your cheek,’ Bridget snapped. ‘Let’s see if you’re still in a good mood when you’ve finished testing all those urines in the sluice. Go on, get to it. I want them all done and the charts filled in before Sister arrives.’

The sluice room was freezing as usual. The high mesh-covered windows were no match for the icy December wind, which blew straight through.

Tilly Turnbull, another first-year student, turned to greet her as Effie came in. Her nose was blue with cold.

‘This is ridiculous,’ she complained. ‘One day they’re going to forget about us in here, and we’ll end up frozen stiff.’ She shoved the rack of test tubes towards Effie. ‘Here, you do albumen and I’ll do sugars.’

As Effie plodded through her tests, laboriously adding nitric acid to each test tube, Turnbull managed to race through hers by testing a few drops from each sample all together. Most of the students did this if they didn’t think they would be found out. It made it much quicker and easier than testing each sample on its own, especially if they all turned out to be negative.

But not today. ‘Oh, look, we’ve got at least one positive,’ Turnbull said, pointing to the brick-red test tube. ‘Let’s try to guess who it is, shall we? I reckon Mr Anderson.’

Effie shook her head. ‘Mr Pilcher, definitely.’

‘How much do you want to bet?’

‘Sixpence.’

‘You’re on!’ Tilly Turnbull giggled. ‘Listen to us! Did you ever imagine you’d be freezing to death in a sluice, taking bets on people’s urine samples?’