It Won't Hurt a Bit (26 page)

‘She must be bad if she’s in I.C. and why the oxygen tent?’

‘She’s got a chest infection,’ Maisie was short, ‘good thing she’s not a smoker.’

‘Maybe we should get to bed now and be ready early.’ I headed upstairs, not wanting a lecture, but Maisie was making another phone call so I left her to it, considered lighting up, but instead fell into bed and a dreamless black pit.

Hours later, the sound of a drill and a heavy weight on my chest woke me. For a moment I thought I too was in hospital but it was just a purring cat making himself at home.

‘Come on, Puss. I need to get going,’ I moved him to one side, ‘or Maisie will be chasing me.’

‘I heard that.’ My flat mate stood in the doorway. ‘But you’re right – let’s get on the road,’ as she turned, she called over her shoulder, ‘and leave those fags behind.’ I stuck my tongue out at her retreating back and put them in my bag.

Jo’s bleak description of the Intensive Care Unit was accurate.

‘We might have a job recognising Hazel here, you can hardly see the patients for equipment.’ I was looking into a glass-fronted place where its occupants were lost to another world, but then Rosie came out from a side ward and signalled to us.

‘She’s here,’ she whispered. She looked flushed and anxious. ‘At least she’s conscious, but she’s not able for too many visitors – best you two go in together but make it quick.’

Hazel was propped up with pillows. Despite her breathing difficulties, her smile was valiant.

‘You’re like a princess in your palace.’ Maisie gestured at the clear polythene tenting her.

‘Home from home and they say I’ll be out of it soon and I’m even going to live,’ Hazel gasped, ‘but I don’t know if I’ll survive the treatment.’

Maisie grinned and pointed to the cylinder pumping oxygen into the tent. ‘Well you certainly don’t want anyone lighting up here anyway.’

Hazel beckoned to me, then, pointing to Maisie, croaked, ‘Has she told you her news?’

‘No.’

‘Not that she’s the best practical nurse of the year? Dad told me when he came in this afternoon – thought it would cheer me up. He’s on the board of management that decides that kind of thing. Seemingly they base it on ward reports.’ She drew a laboured breath, ‘They say she’s a very mature approach.’

‘Isn’t she a dark horse!’ I was delighted. I looked at Maisie, who had the grace to blush. ‘I’ve been wondering why she’s been looking so pleased with herself lately,’ then, substituting guilt for a lie, ‘I thought it was because she gets up so early she always gets the cream off the top of the bottle.’

Hazel clutched her side as she laughed, then turned grey as she coughed a hard, unyielding bark.

Maisie looked at her in concern. ‘Remember and put your hand over your wound when you cough, it’ll save your stitches.’ She patted the air like a pastry maker with a light touch. ‘We’ll go now but d’you want a nurse?’

Hazel shook her head and since talking seemed insensitive, we waved instead. Looking back, I saw she’d closed her eyes and was so grey I worried that if she retreated to another world it might be hard to get her back.

Rosie was waiting. ‘I’ve told the others to come tomorrow but as you two are working here, it’ll be easier for you to pop in and give us news of any change.’ She wrung her hands. ‘She’s not very well is she?’

Maisie spoke in the firm voice she kept for Rosie. ‘No – but she’s got plenty smeddum, and before you ask, it means guts.

‘But maybe a bit less than before,’ I tried for a light touch.

‘Huh!’ United in disapproval, the girls marched off down the corridor in a flurry of tut-tutts, allowing me the chance to regret levity and look for a bin.

There was one beside the exit. Taking out the cigarettes, I crunched the packet into the shape of a big chewed caramel, then, stuffing it through the bin’s big mouth, hurried to make my peace with the others before going on duty.

‘Mr Dick was admitted this morning. He’s in for blood sugar tests tomorrow so he’ll need to fast.’ Sister looked up from her day report and nodded at a patient skipping past. With his pink cheeks, white curls and chubby form, he looked like an elderly cherub on a placement. Sister, momentarily uncertain, cleared her throat. ‘Since ever we mentioned fast, he’s been flying round the ward like a rocket. Maybe we should have explained we meant he’s not to eat or drink.’

‘So that’ll be one tea less, Nurse Macpherson,’ said Charles, watching the patient complete another lap. ‘We should call him Speedy. I’ll go and tell him that if he’s been on the go all day, he’ll need a rest.’ He raised his hand like a torchbearer and loped off.

‘I think his deafness doesn’t help and this place has been going like a fair all day. Maybe he’ll settle now,’ said Sister, closing the Kardex with the satisfaction of one finishing a good read, ‘and I know he’s in safe hands. Charles is very caring.’

I toyed with the idea of bringing up the subject of teeth with Sister’s paragon but there never seemed a right moment and when at last everybody was settled, it was break time.

‘It all seems pretty quiet now,’ I squinted round the ward, ‘even Speedy’s sleeping. Will you be alright?’

‘Of course.’ Charles made for a chair, stretched out his long form and folded his arms. ‘Honestly, Jane, you’d think you were in charge.’ He yawned deeply, crossed his ankles and closed his eyes.

Maisie was toying with her food when I joined her in the dining room. ‘I’m thinking about Hazel,’ she said. ‘She really didn’t look well, did she?’

‘It’s early days and she’ll be getting the best of attention.’ I tried to sound reassuring. Jo’s Intensive Care replacement joined us.

‘I think we’ve one of your crowd with us,’ she said, pulling her plate near her and grabbing a fork. ‘She’s on the mend and should be better once she’s had some blood.’

‘Blood!’

The girl speared a potato before replying, ‘Yes, but she’s going to be alright. She was making heavy weather of recovery so they decided the blood might help.’

We watched, slightly nauseated, as she stuck in.

‘Are you sure she’ll be alright?’ Maisie pushed her plate away and rested her elbows on the table; a finger twiddled with a curl.

‘Of course, but she’s worried about losing training time. This’ll set her back a bit, that’s for sure.’

I was snapped out of thinking about this unsatisfactory remark by Charles, who was pacing the corridor and looking anxious.

‘We’ve lost Speedy Dick,’ he said.

‘You mean
you’ve
lost him.’ I was stuck for a more positive remark.

‘Well it’s your responsibility – you’re in charge.’ Charles used his full height to make the point.

‘He can’t be very far away.’ I looked down the quiet corridor, at the end of which was the female ward. Usually there would be a faint chatter coming from there but tonight it was like a morgue. ‘Have you tried the toilets?’

‘Twice and before you ask, I’ve looked everywhere else too.’ Charles sounded faintly aggrieved.

‘Has Night Sister been?’ Panic was making me squeak.

Charles looked at his watch. ‘No. But she should be any minute.’

I cast around desperately. Where on earth could Speedy be? And not to put too fine a point on it, if we didn’t find him, where might I soon be? I was sure that losing a patient was dismissal territory.

In the distance came the click of Night Sister’s cubed heels coming our way, their owner about to have a pleasant night ruined. I felt sick. The corridor held not so much as a shadow. Charles took off his spectacles, breathed on them, tie-cleaned, replaced them, then looked around. But still no Speedy.

‘How on earth did he get past you?’ I asked, rather knowing the answer, but Charles was saved the lie as a blood-curdling scream broke the silence. It came from the female side.

‘The old devil!’ Charles shot down the corridor. Sister was now coming through the swing doors common to both sides and I could see her torch swinging in a gentle arc. I went to meet her, unsure what I would say.

‘Good evening, Nurse, but what are you doing out of your ward?’

Resembling Fishie in his bowl, I opened my mouth, then my jaw dropped.

‘Excuse us, I’ve just been taking Mr Dick for a stretch of the legs – a bit of a sleepless night,’ by some miracle Charles, carrying Speedy like an airlift, had appeared, ‘but now he’s ready for bed.’ Sending a smile round the world, he passed at breakneck speed.

Speedy’s air of dishevelled confusion might be hard to explain, but Sister was already looking at her watch and frowning. ‘Drat! I’m running short of time and should be at the I.C.U. They’ve a bit of an emergency there so I haven’t time to do a round here, but you’ve no problems have you?’

‘No, Sister,’ I chirped. ‘I’ll run and help Charles.’

‘Don’t run unless it’s an emergency,’ she said predictably.

Hoping the urgent visit was nothing to do with Hazel, I went into the ward where Charles was reintroducing Speedy to his bed.

‘I lost my way,’ Speedy clutched his pyjamas at the neck, ‘and couldn’t see there was a wifie in the bed already. I got an awful fright.’

‘Uh-huh,’ Charles agreed, tucking him in so tightly his breathing could have been compromised, but already Speedy was settling onto his cloud. ‘Nighty nighty – sweet dreams,’ he piped and was so quickly asleep he must have been exhausted.

We went to the office to allow peace in the ward and, curbing a need to shout, at least speak aloud.

‘Crikey! That was close – I never associated medical wards with such dangerous living,’ I said, relief mixed with irritation. ‘I don’t want too many experiences like that.’

Charles obviously worked on attack as the best form of defence.

‘And you shouldn’t have, but do you know that pair of nurses at the female end were asleep at the time and didn’t notice a man coming in to their ward? I think that’s shocking.’ Charles shuddered. ‘Am I needing a fag!’

Wanting one myself made me teachery. ‘You’re in more need of a meal. Best to go now and whilst you’re at it see if you can find out anything about my pal Hazel.’

I explained about her whilst Charles, half listening, checked his pocket.

His face cleared. ‘Ah! There they are.’ He flourished his cigarettes. ‘Tell you what, rather than asking anybody – you never know what stories people think up – I’ll just do a teacup reading. I see you’ve left yours unwashed in the kitchen. I’ll take it with me, seeing as you’re connected to Hazel by anxiety.’

He was on a mission, making it impossible for me to stop him carrying the cup off and just providing another proof of lunacy.

Whilst he was away, I pondered over the Kardex, lost in creativity until he came back flourishing the cup. ‘I see blood.’

‘That’s my lipstick.’

‘Well in that case, and if that’s how you’re going to be,’ Charles threw himself into a chair, stuck out his bottom lip and looked moody, ‘you can jolly well wash it yourself, but I think you’ll find your friend’s on the mend. That
blood
must be doing her good.’

We were in the changing room. Other workers were readying for home and chat centred round the joy of sleep: but Maisie had other plans.

‘Before we go, let’s see how Hazel is. We’re more likely to get news if we’re in uniform.’

‘That’s a good idea, even if Charles and the runes say she’s getting better,’ I was tired but crammed my cap back on again, ‘and I think on account of your mature approach, you should be the one to ask about her.’ Lack of nicotine was making me scratchy.

Maisie looked hurt, which made me feel worse, but I continued, ‘Why on earth didn’t you tell me about that prize? Didn’t you think I’d be pleased?’

She straightened herself, as if expecting confrontation. ‘To tell you the truth, Jane, you’re always going on about your ward reports and how they’re likely to sink you, I didn’t think that hearing I had good ones would do much for your confidence. In fact, I’d to make a call to the management folk yesterday about accepting the prize and even then I didn’t want to say anything.’ Her finger wagged, ‘Anyway – we never know what’s written about us, so I think you worry for nothing. If they were all that bad, you can bet Matron would have been the first to let you know.’

She took off her apron, stuffing it into a laundry bag like she had a grudge against it. ‘Goodness knows why I’ve won it, maybe I got maturity in my last job persuading Peterhead wifies to climb into one size smaller. But enough about me, let’s find out about Hazel.’

A staff nurse met us at the ward entrance. ‘You’re not relatives, so I can’t tell you much and you can’t go in and see her either.’ Seeing our concern, she relented a bit. ‘She’s actually had a good night and she’s out of the oxygen tent. She’s a great patient, but she’s not off the worry list yet and her folks are with her.’

We exchanged looks. ‘Still sounds a bit serious,’ Maisie murmured. ‘Thanks, Staff, we’ll not hold you up. Maybe we can visit later.’

‘Phone first,’ the nurse advised.

At home, a robin was being stalked in the garden by a Roncer.

I got cross thinking about something so dedicated to taking life. ‘Scoot, cat!’ I shouted, knocking on the window, unaware that Mrs Ronce was hiding in the bushes with a water pistol. She must’ve been on a training mission and didn’t look too pleased at the interference, but then the phone went and I ran to answer it.

It was Rosie.

I told her about Hazel and that it was unlikely she’d be allowed visitors.

Rosie was in full administration mode. Her voice chirped down the line, ‘Nonsense! We’re her friends after all. She needs us. Look, I’m going to contact the others and we’ll all go tonight. At the very least she needs cheering up. A visit’s exactly what’s required.’

‘Let’s hope we get in then. And what about Sheila? Any chance of getting in touch with her? Maybe you could take your magic wand and see if you can track her down. I’m beginning to think she’s been swallowed up by Inverurie.’

Rosie sounded surprised. ‘That’s easy. She’s at Sick Kids. Didn’t you know? I always know where everybody is. I’ve got a list.’

‘You’re just a wee wonder,’ I said, impressed by such loyalty to the group, but replacing the phone before she could answer.