Nurse Jess (17 page)

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Authors: Joyce Dingwell

Tags: #Harlequin Romance 1959

BOOK: Nurse Jess
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But I

m not a


You are really, you know. Privately I think it

s a shame you kids don

t get the recognition you should. After all, your past four years weren

t exactly a picnic.

Sister Helen shrugged reminiscently.

I, too, was at G.S.,

she said with feeling.

Jessa was looking entranced at the veil and cape.


Did Matron Martha
really
say that?


You can check if you like, but I don

t think she

ll be pleased. She said twenty minutes, and

—Sister Helen glanced at her watch—

already ten have gone.


I

ll be ready—and thank you, thank you so much.


Don

t thank me, thank Matron, my child. And take a fellow senior

s advice, make hay while the sun shines,
Sister
Jess.

With another beam Sister Helen was gone.

Although time was running short Jessa could not resist slipping on the cape and pulling over the cascading vei
l.

Oh, gosh—

she said, and blew herself a kiss.

Eleven minutes had gone now, but she simply must run along and show Margaret. She did run along, but Margaret, alas, was not there.


I

d better leave a note,

she said aloud, and grabbing a pencil and some paper—Margaret had a methodical room arrangement and always had some ready—she scribbled a few lines.


Something wonderful, Meggy! Have left for Curry Bulla!! Assigned to the Winthrop quads!!! Don

t mind too much, will you? Love, Jess.

She put it in a prominent position on the chest of drawers, then hurried back to complete her dressing and packing.

As she did so she saw that a note had been put in a prominent position on her chest of drawers, and, drawing her caramel jersey sheath over her head, she crossed and took it up.


Jessamine darling, have left for Crescent Island! Ba managed to wangle a ticket. Hope you won

t mind. All my love, Meg.

The note fluttered to the floor. Jess waited till she had the sheath right on, then retrieved it.

Funny for them both to scribble three lines like that, she thought, both to say

not mind

to each other.

She
had meant for Meg not to mind her having the honour of attending quads
...
but what had Meggy meant
?

She snapped her case closed, pulled on a stocking turban of matching jersey. Of course Margaret had only meant seeing Mummy and Father... Crescent Island... Lopi... that was what Meg had meant.

Five minutes left—and one more thing to do.

She raced along to do it, to say goodbye to the Perfesser.

At the corner of the long corridor she overtook the lanky, gangling figure. Hearing her approach, he jumped cautiously aside, then grinned. When he smiled he looked like when he took off his glasses—like a small boy again.


We

re both going the same direction today, thank goodness,

he said.

This time I will
not
be bowled over, Nurse Jess.

She slackened her speed to a more womanly pace and walked quietly beside him.

I

m going along to Master X,

she said sedately, and then, unable to keep her exhilaration to herself any longer,

To say goodbye to him for a little while.


Yes, we will both say that to him,

agreed Professor Gink.

She looked at him without surprise. He was always going away, he was always either departing or returning.

And where are you off to this time, Professor?

she asked politely.

He said,

Curry Bulla,

then asked politely back,

And you, Nurse Jess?

She did not answer him, she could not, she simply nodded dumbly. Matron Martha had said Belinda was sending a specialist, but Professor Gink was not attached exclusively to Belinda, to anywhere particular, and she had rather expected Doctor Elizabeth, Doctor Mary, some highly
-
thought-of honorary—she had not thought of him.

He was looking at her very oddly. In anyone else she could have called it almost a dog-like expression, but to couple such a look with a famous scholar would be quite absurd.

Didn

t you know?

he asked a little gruffly.

Didn

t Matron tell you that I—well—that I—well—?


No, I didn

t know, Professor,

she answered promptly to help out his awkwardness. Really, for a clever man his
speech was lamentable, not at all clear and concise.


Does it matter?

he blurted clumsily.

I mean, is it a shock that the other traveller for Curry Bulla is old Prof Gink?


Why, of course it doesn

t matter,

she said uncomfortably.

I mean it

s not for me to say, anyway, is it? It

s

it

s simply just


Yes, Nurse Jess?

She kept on walking in silence a moment. She was thinking to herself how all her schemes were going awry once more... what was it again?

The best-laid plans o

mice and men...

Margaret was off with Ba when She should be off with the Professor, and she, Jessa, was off with the Professor when... oh,
everything
was the wrong way round.

And then all at once, quite spontaneously, a little rapturously, she was thinking that she didn

t very much care about the plans-gone-wrong
...
in
fact she didn

t care at all.

It was only

quad excitement,

of course. One didn

t have multiple births everyday of one

s life. It made one too happy to think seriously and with suitable dedication about serious dedicated subjects like Margaret and Professor Gink.

The Professor was still looking down at her. Perhaps he sensed some of her spontaneous happiness, for suddenly he lost his air of anxiety and became very relaxed—for him.


We

ll have to hurry,

he almost shouted.

Plane leaves sharp on the hour, Nurse.


It doesn

t take two jiffies for a kiss,

assured Jessamine, and forgot about being womanly and began to run to her special baby again.

Then the Professor said a strange thing. She caught the words as she raced down the corridor, her unaccustomed high heels tapping on the polished floor, and instinctively her mind tucked them away for future consideration.

He called,

Two jiffies, Nurse Jess? But surely you

re wrong. Already it has taken
me
a thousand years.

 

CHAPTER
XI
I

IT was dusk when the plane put them
down on the airfield at Curry Bi
tilla. Jessa stood waiting for the hospital car, Professor Gink by her side.

It had been a good trip. Losing that odd awkwardness of his, the scholar had proved a pleasant companion. They had talked and laughed together, and later he had confided something over afternoon, tea.

She had started the topic. She had said,

I can

t see why
I
was chosen to come when there are so many others.


Are you complaining, Nurse Jess?


I

m rejoicing, but I still can

t see


Perhaps you were specially requested.

He was lighting a cigarette. She had never seen him smoke before. He looked more like a pipe man, like her father was, and she told him so.


Do I seem old enough to you to be your father?


I never said so, Professor, I said
—”


Yes, but
do
I?

he persisted with that stubbornness she had met occasionally in him before.


Of course not.


Are you just being polite?


No, I

m not,

retorted Jessa forcibly.

I mentioned my father simply because he smokes a pipe.


We

ll forget the pipe and concentrate on the age. Is thirty-five very old to a girl who hasn

t yet forgotten her nursery rhymes?


I

m in my fifth year of training now, so you can work how old I am out for yourself,

said Jessa with dignity.


You once told me, it

s twenty-two. But surely a very
young
twenty-two, little Jess.

She looked at him uncertainly. It
sounded

little Jess,

but it probably was

Nurse Jess.

These local planes were not as silent as one would wish, words weren

t always clear. Of course it must be Nurse Jess.

“I’m
not young,

she told him earnestly,

and when you see me professionally at Curry Bulla I

ll be a sister. Matron Martha promoted me just for the few days I

ll be here.


And that,

she went on,

is what puzzles me. Why am
I
here? Who would request
me?
A demi-semi-trained prem nurse with a formidable record of chids?


Of course,

with a rueful smile,

Matron Martha did say that the babies should not present any problem, I mean not prove beyond my very limited capability, but how could she know that when they

re not even born yet?

She frowned.

He said quietly,

But they are. That

s why we flew at such short notice. That

s why Matron
did
know, my child. Everything

s all right, but we thought we

d like a little breathing space before we announced it to the press and all the publicity begins.

Jessa gave a soft whistle of admiration.

So Matron wasn

t taking a risk after all sending a junior nurse, she was speaking with authority when she said it would all be just a piece of cake.


A piece of what?


I

m sorry, Professor Gink.

The Professor rubbed the end of his nose, then grinned. After a moment Jessa had asked of him,

The Mother, Professor?


Fine.


The babies?


All four small, but not all that small.


Girls? Boys?


Two of each. You never asked about the father.

She laughed and said,

Dad?


Doing best of all.

Jessa looked through the window at the country below them. It was late afternoon and the southern plains lay drowsy and shimmering after a long day

s sundrenching. There were occasional threads of shining watercourses between their gold-green flats. Everything in this mellow hour was as soft and dreamy as a gentle water-colour.


I

m very happy,

Jessa said.

She could not have said whether she was thinking of

Mrs. Winthrop, or Mr. Winthrop, or the four new babies, or herself having the luck to look after them, or whether it was just that brand of happiness that sometimes springs without any explanation into the heart.

She only knew it was pleasant here, the engines whirring evenly, Professor Gink talking in a relaxed way he never did at Belinda—his big arm companionably against her own.

She was aware suddenly that at this moment she would not have minded if it had gone on forever... but the moment was ending... the sound of the engines was altering ... they were descending and running along a huge country strip dotted with white thistle and dandelion.


We

re here,

said Professor Gink, and that little intake of breath, if she had been imaginative, thought Jessa, could have been called a sigh. Probably, however, it was some scientific device to clear the ears or the sinuses—or something. From height to ground level, that sort of thing. Ba always blew his nose.

They climbed out.

Jessa said,

I like this hour,

and the Professor nodded.

There was an enchantment in the air, even on this field with its patches of grease and its encroachment on nature. From a leafy hedge at the end of the strip came the sleepy twitterings of nest-going birds, and far away in some boggy place a curlew sent out a goodnight call. The bramble and hawthorn and sloe on the runway

s verge already stirred with little night things—frogs, field-mice, crickets.


This is for us,

said the Professor, and he nodded towards a big car that had come right on to the tarmac apron for them. We

re important, thought Jessa, very pleased with life. It was gratifying to be called for and bowed to and helped in and seated like this.

The car moved off.

It was a dirt road and flat country, in the half light she saw the usual dozens of varieties of gums, red, silver, umbrella, scribbley, then as they approached the little town the inevitable old peppercorns appeared.

Professor Gink said,

It wouldn

t be a country village without a pepper. I grew up in a peppercorn town like this.

She was not surprised, for although his learning could only have been gathered in big cities he still retained that country-boy air. She would have liked to have known where, and when he left, and whether he ever wanted to return to it, but the car was turning into a drive of more peppercorns, and at the top was the Curry Bulla

s cottage hospital, a one
-
level building of weatherboard with wide verandahs and sprawling outhouses, and surely incapable of accommodating more than a dozen inmates at once.

The Professor must have read her thoughts.

These hospitals are never over-taxed,

he explained,

the population is small, remember. Usually four patients and they consider they are well filled.


There are five at least now,

reminded Jessa with a smile.


Indeed we hope so,

returned the Professor gravely.

You don

t think
—”


I certainly don

t think, Nurse Jess, but as I

ve always told you, I like to get over that first forty-eight hours.

The car pulled up at the front entrance. The matron was there, a
little
group of doctors...a prescribed distance away men, by their, notebooks and cameras, apparently of the press.

Matron was very respectful to the Professor; very friendly and not at all superior to Jessa. If only she knew how junior I am, smiled Jessa to herself.


This way, Sister. Have you everything you want, Sister?


Yes, Matron,

replied Jessa in a voice she hoped was self-assured.

I

ll be ready to take over in a few minutes.

Matron nodded.

That will be a relief, I can tell you. Everything looks fine, but I

m a little out of my territory. Ordinary confinements, cuts, snake bites—even a severed leg from a reaper accident once—and I know my way about, but four prems at once, oh, dear!


Don

t you go worrying, we

ll do that for you. And after what we get at Belinda I don

t believe there

ll be any worrying to do.


No,

said Matron with an admiration that made Jessa feel she was still in her high heels and not changed into her service flats, she felt so proud and tall.

You do miracles there.

Jessa fastened on the sister veil, feeling sorry it was too warm really for the coveted cape. It would be cool later, though—these country nights grew quite chilly—and meanwhile the veil cascaded down and made her feel even taller still.


The babies,

she said.

A special room had been fitted out as well as Matron and staff could manage it. It was pleasant and bright and warmed with oil-heaters—just as well she hadn

t succumbed to that cape—and the four babies were in their cribs.

The Professor was there already. Jessa saw that the isolets were not in use, and looked at him in enquiry.


I spoke with Doctor Brennan on the phone before we left and we decided they may not be necessary. We

ll keep them by for emergency, of course, but these babies are almost four pounds each, Nur—that is
—”
For a moment his
eyes behind their owl spectacles estimated her veil very gravely.

Jessa felt herself flush.

He looked about to comment, then must have changed his mind.

Quietly, so that the matron and sisters and doctors could not hear, he repeated,
too
gravely,

Four pounds apiece

or as you would put it, a piece of cake, Sister.


Yes, sir,

agreed Jessa
too
gravely back.

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