Cherry Ames 21 Island Nurse (12 page)

They came to the hospital and Lloyd said, “Meg has been saying ‘We must take Cherry to see the hospital, I’m sure she’d like to visit it.’ But it was just one of those things we didn’t get around to doing. So I told myself that today’s the day Miss Ames visits our local hospital. How about it, Cherry?”

“Of course I’d love it,” she said. “Do you mind, Sir Ian?”

“Not at all. Not at all,” he replied.

Lloyd turned the car off the road and into the drive that led to the back of the one-story, white frame building. He stopped in the parking space there.

The hospital faced the road with its back to the bay.

Cherry looked beyond the sandy beach to where it seemed countless small boats with white sails were skimming over the blue waters of Balmaghie Bay.

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CHERRY

AMES,

ISLAND

NURSE

Meg came running out the rear entrance of the building. “Hello, everybody!” she called.

“Cherry, you and Lloyd go with Meg to see the hospital,” Sir Ian said. “I’m going to sit here in the car and enjoy watching the sailboats.”

“Dr. Mac can show them around,” Meg said, laughing and getting into the car.

Lloyd and Cherry went inside. A central hall ran through the building from front to back. The various rooms opened off this hall down which Dr. Mac was striding toward them.

“Well, isn’t this a nice surprise!” he cried.

“I’ve brought Miss Ames to see Balfour Hospital,” announced Lloyd with exaggerated formality. “We want the dollar tour.”

“That’s the Mackenzie Special,” replied the doctor with equal formality. “Right this way, folks!” It did not take the doctor long to show them around.

The hospital was quite small—too small as Meg had pointed out to her father, to serve adequately the island’s population. There was no operating room, so patients in need of a serious operation had to go to St. John’s.

The hospital needed more of everything from beds to laboratory equipment, but Cherry was impressed with how light, airy, and sparklingly clean the place was.

It had the appearance of being well managed. And as Bess Cowan, the tall, gray-haired nurse, said as Cherry and Lloyd were leaving, “It’s thanks to Dr. Mackenzie that we can do so much with so little. Do you know, Miss Ames, this hospital is considered above average in

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111

quality of service, in spite of its inadequacies, because of him!”

“Mac and I will see you at dinner,” Meg called after the car, as Cherry, Lloyd, and Sir Ian went around the drive and onto the road toward the mines.

They passed the mines, stopping at one of them so Cherry could see the entrance shaft with its elevator to take the miners deep under the ground, and she had a look at some of the adits or exits from which the ore was brought by cars or conveyor systems.

Lloyd kept pointing out what must be done about better facilities and new equipment. Only the new mine received Lloyd’s unqualifi ed approval.

“You really did yourself proud, Uncle Ian, on that new mine,” Lloyd told him. “The best and most modern pumps, conveyors, elevators, power drills—the works.

It must have cost you a small fortune.”

“It did,” Sir Ian said grimly.

The road continued to Carse Point at the extreme north end of the island where the lighthouse stood, and there was a lifesaving station, and a Coast Guard cutter riding at anchor off shore.

The road left Carse Point and ran now along the ocean side of the island, with beaches and coves, then climbed up to the cliffs.

After a while, the road left the cliffs and turned across the island, winding through hills, dales, and woods until it brought them back to Barclay House.

It was a delightful drive and all three of them enjoyed it immensely. Sir Ian appeared refreshed by it 112
CHERRY

AMES,

ISLAND

NURSE

and not tired at all. That evening Sir Ian joined Lloyd and Meg in the library where Higgins, the butler, had laid a small fi re in the fi replace. On Balfour, even in summer, the nights were cool.

Cherry took the opportunity to catch up on her cor-respondence, which she had not found time to do that week. She had kept her mother and father up to date with events on the island, so they knew about Rogues’

Cave and the happenings on the hill of the abandoned mine. She wound up the letter with a description of the day’s trip around the island.

On Tuesday, Cherry had a day off and planned a shopping trip to St. John’s. She liked walking and she needed another suitable pair of shoes. Her one pair had become quite worn from her daily walks on the rocky island. She could not fi nd what she wanted in the little village store, so there was nothing to do but try the stores in St. John’s.

She did not have to worry about Sir Ian, for Meg was going to take care of her father.

“I’ll take you to the ferry when I go to work,” Lloyd told Cherry. “Then I’ll meet you when it returns this afternoon, and I’ll bring you back here.” So it was all settled when Cherry, Meg, and Lloyd went down to breakfast a few minutes past eight o’clock Tuesday morning.

They drank their fruit juice. Then, Norah, the maid, brought in a plate of poached eggs to place with the cereal and other dishes on the buffet.

A MEETING IN ST. JOHN’S

113

Lloyd was lifting eggs onto his plate when Higgins came in to say there was a call for him.

“I’ll take it in the library,” Lloyd said.

A few moments later Cherry and Meg heard him shouting into the phone: “What do you mean the pump won’t suck? … Of course that pump hasn’t enough suction. Get the big power pump. …. Oh! McGuire’s using it in the new mine. Never mind. … Never mind, I said. I’ll be right down.”

Lloyd slammed down the receiver. Coming to the dining-room door, he informed Cherry and Meg that he had to rush down to the mines.

“A leak has been found in one of the chambers of Number Two mine,” he told them. “It’s a chamber nearest the abandoned mine, and it’s fl ooded. Cameron left word at the offi ce that he would be in St. John’s on business. McGuire has his hands full with the new mine. I’ve got to go down myself.”

Lloyd gulped some coffee and hurried into the hall, calling back over his shoulder, “I’m terribly sorry, Cherry, not to take you to the ferry. Please forgive me.

Meg, look after Cherry, will you?” And he went outside and drove off in the Bug.

After Lloyd left, Cherry told Meg how much she had enjoyed the drive around the island the Sunday before because she had been thinking ever since that she had never known a place so fi lled with beauty and legends.

From talking about the island, the two drifted into talk about Rogues’ Cave.

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AMES,

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And Meg said, “Higgins knows all the old tales and he used to tell me stories by the hour. I suppose he told you how my grandda, when he was a boy, was lost in the cave.”

“Oh, yes,” Cherry said. “And he said your grandfather used to do experiments in the room at the top of the tower and that he wrote in his secret journal by the light of a candle at night.”

“That’s right!” exclaimed Meg. “When I was a little girl, I used to go up there, thinking I’d look for the secret journal. But I was much more interested in peering out through the telescope than in anything else.” She paused, then went on eagerly. “You know what, Cherry!”

“No, what?” replied Cherry, grinning.

“Let’s go up to the tower sometime and search together. We might even get Lloyd to go with us.” Meg stopped and considered that. “Oh, he wouldn’t go,” she decided. “He’d probably think it too childish for anything. But, Cherry, you’re in the house a lot. When you have a free hour or so, why don’t you go up to the tower room and look for Grandda’s secret journal yourself?” Cherry’s eyes sparkled. “Now, I think that would be fun!” she exclaimed. “A secret journal. A room in a tower. That’s an exciting combination.” Meg laughed gaily. “If you do decide to go when I’m not here,” she said, “look behind the tapestry that covers the end of the hall on the second fl oor. You’ll see an old ironwork door. Go through it and climb the stairs until you reach the very top of the tower.”

A MEETING IN ST. JOHN’S

115

Meg looked at the clock on the wall above the dining-room fi replace. “Oh, dear!” she cried out. “Cherry, I have to beg off taking you to the ferry. I promised Ramsay I’d see him fi rst thing this morning and tell him where to plant the new shrubs. And if I know Ramsay, he’s champing at the bit this very minute. Smith will take you. I’ll tell him right away. I’d better run. Please excuse me, Cherry.”

Meg pushed her chair back, and going out the French windows that opened onto the dining terrace, ran down the path toward the gardener’s stone cottage at the west end of the grounds.

Presently, Higgins came to tell Cherry that Smith was ready with the car any time she wanted to leave.

Dressed in a pretty woolen skirt, bright cashmere sweater and cardigan, with a close-fi tting hat to keep her curls in place in the wind, Cherry stuck her head in Sir Ian’s room to tell him she was leaving.

“Have a good time shopping, for I know ye are no different from Meg when it comes to that,” he said. “And don’t take it amiss if the lads stare at ye,” he added.

“They waudna be able to help themselves. Ye are as pretty as the morning, Cherry lass.” Ah, thank ye, Sir Ian,” Cherry told him with an imp-ish grin at mimicking his accent. “As your daughter says, ye’ve a silver tongue with compliments.” It was a beautiful morning. The sky was bright with the sun. Overhead the scattered clouds were fl oating lazily.

When she got out of the car at the wharf, Captain Rab was just going aboard the
Sandy Fergus
.

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AMES,

ISLAND

NURSE

He recognized her at once and they exchanged greetings. Then he invited her into the wheelhouse.

“Meg always cons the helm, that is, watches the course while I steer,” he told her with a chuckle,

“whenever she makes a trip to St. John’s.” Cherry settled herself on the window seat and she and the captain talked about the Barclays and how much she was enjoying her stay on Balfour.

It lacked some minutes of time for departure and there were not many passengers on the boat as yet.

Cherry noticed a passenger leaning over the rail. With a start she recognized the man that she had seen on the hill.

“Who is that?” she asked Captain Rab, pointing the man out.

“Oh, that’s Joseph Tweed,” replied Captain Rab.

“He’s known as ‘Little Joe’ Tweed. Lives in St. John’s.

He promotes prize fi ghts, speculates in stocks, owns a fi shing schooner called the
Heron
. Always seems to have money. I dinna like the man.”

Cherry told Captain Rab then about seeing Little Joe on the hill.

“Peering out at his fi shing schooner, ye say,” said the captain. “He’s a wise man to keep an eye on her.

A rougher lot of men I’ve not seen in many a day as Little Joe has for a crew. And the captain’s no better. He’s had his license suspended too often for any respect-able ship owner to hire him.”

It was time to start. The captain clanged the bell and shouted to a deck hand to cast off the mooring

A MEETING IN ST. JOHN’S

117

lines. The engine roared into action and the boat got under way.

On the way to St. John’s, Captain Rab observed the steady fall of the barometer and remarked that he

“dinna” like it. “There’s dirty weather knocking about,” he told Cherry, pulling at his pipe.

The crossing was choppy and the sky was becoming feathered with clouds when the
Sandy Fergus
reached the St. John’s wharf.

“Ye had best take the May Bee going back,” the captain advised Cherry. “She leaves earlier and will make it over to the island afore this storm breaks. Of course if ye dinna mind a bit of wind and water, the
Sandy
Fergus
leaves around four o’clock. I’d be happy to have the pleasure of your company.”

Cherry thanked him and told him that it depended upon how long it took her to do her shopping whether she would go back on the helicopter or the boat.

At a quarter past two she had fi nished her shopping.

She had even taken a little time to have lunch, buy postcards, and send them with brief notes to Dr. Joe, the Spencer Club girls, Midge, Ruth Dale, and other friends at Hilton Hospital, as well as to her family.

The sky was overcast by two o’clock. Inquiries about the May Bee revealed that it would not be taking off since a storm was coming up. It began to rain. There was nothing to do but wait for the
Sandy Fergus
.

Cherry, with a full shopping bag and a couple of packages that she could not cram into it, dodged into a pleasant-looking coffee shop near the wharf.

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CHERRY

AMES,

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NURSE

She sat down at a table beside a window that faced the harbor, and ordered chocolate milk and cookies.

The waitress told her the ferryboat came in around three or shortly thereafter.

Cherry glanced around the restaurant at a number of well-dressed women and children, a few girls, and several businessmen.

One man at a table in a corner drew her attention by his frequent glances toward the entrance and then at his wristwatch to check the time. Obviously he was expecting someone who was late. He did not appear to be a man accustomed to waiting. There was an air of importance about him. He was well groomed and wore fi nely tailored clothes. His hair was a distinguished salt and pepper, but his eyes and mouth were hard, and the whole cast of the face was that of a man of authority.

Cherry watched his growing annoyance for a while, then gazed outside. It had grown prematurely dark.

Lights began to appear along the waterfront and on the craft in the harbor. The wind steadily increased and rain now bounced off the street.

There was a boat moored to the wharf a few yards away. Cherry read the name
Heron
, lettered on the side.