Ring for the Nurse (5 page)

“
I expect I can, anyway I
’
ll try.
”
Felicity rose from her cramped position.
“
I must g
et back to the ward now, Sister is in enough of a flap
already, if I
’
m not ready for the round, she
’
ll have kittens!
”

“A
ll right
...
front gate, eight sharp!
”
The instructions followed Felicity as she elbowed her way through the crowded room and hurried along the corridor to the lift.

The suppressed air of excitement in John Mason Ward proclaimed that the news of Guy
B
renton
’
s accident was no longer a secret; as she passed the rows of beds several of the patients called out kind enquiries, they seemed to have all the details even to the fact that she had just returned from attending the theatre. It always was like that, any news in hospital seemed to spread like wildfire. Sister Robinson, a worried frown between her brows, hurried forward to meet her.

“
Everything go all right?
”
Without awaiting an answer she continued:
“
The dear lad is nicely tucked up in bed.
O
’
Brien will keep alert for any signs of returning consciousness, meanwhile we
’
d better get set for Mr. MacFarlayne
’
s round, we mustn
’
t forget anything, at least let
’
s
make
a
good impression.
”

As Felicity followed the deputy surgeon round the ward she couldn
’
t help feeling that, Sister
’
s careful and elaborate preparations had been somewhat wasted, for he appeared completely indifferent to the many small details about which Brenton was invariably so meticulous. A probe not quite
right, st
ill that didn
’
t matter he
’
d make do, he assured them with a beaming smile, he
’
d have preferred longer forceps, but there, he explained, he
’
d manage all right. All very easy, Felicity assured herself, but with no feeling of satisfaction. Subconsciously she realized that it might all be
too
easy, that Brenton
’
s exacting demands were after all a spur and had supplied the very impetus good nursing needed.

Felicity was glad when the monotonous round ended. Sister, on the contrary, appeared wholly satisfied with the morning
’
s effort, believing, Felicity felt sure, that the ward
’
s efficiency had impressed the surgeon, without realizing that he would have been equally, pleased with far less effort.

Over lunch in the nurses
’
dining hall, Felicity was so bombarded with questions that she was glad to hurry through her meal and escape. Then, remembering that it was Sister
’
s half-day, she reported for duty in good time, only to find Sister already impatiently awaiting her.

“
I
’
m going off now, mustn
’
t be late, I
’
ve managed to get two
‘
complimentaries
’
for the matinee at the Royal.
”
She bustled round her office collecting together a few oddments.
“
Mr. Brenton is coming round, I
’
ve just left his room, pulse not too good.
”
She paused, then added:
“
Now let me think, there was something else I wanted to tell you
...
oh, yes, I remember, John Briggs, poor lamb,
he is complaining dreadfully of that plaster.
”

“
Yes, I know, I am going to cut down a bit, I didn
’
t get a chance this morning.
”

“
But you can
’
t do that, not without mentioning it to Mr. MacFarlayne,
”
Sister protested.

“
Mr. Brenton gave me permission yesterday
—”

“
But Mr. MacFarlayne said nothing this morning, absolutely nothing,
”
Sister broke in, an anxious furrow creasing her forehead.

“
I can
’
t see that matters,
”
Felicity answered quietly, but she was aware of a rising tide of anger.
“
If Mr. MacFarlayne overlooked the matter there is still no reason why I should disregard Mr. Brenton
’
s direct wishes in his absence; I know it
’
s my duty to carry them out.
”

“
Briggs is certainly complaining a lot,
”
Sister demurred with obvious weakening.

Felicity seized on the. moment.
“
Then I
’
d better get along to him at once, then I
’
ll be free to attend Mr. Brenton as soon as he needs me.
”
Without awaiting further argument she slipped from the office.

Some time later when Felicity was in attendance beside Guy Brenton
’
s bed, she began to see signs of returning consciousness. Sister was right, the pulse was weak and irregular. Removing her fingers from his wrist she laid his hand gently back on the covers. How strong and sensitive those hands were, yet how helpless they had become. Felicity, momentarily filled with inexplicable pain, stared unseeingly out of the curtained window. Supposing that right hand was never the same again, supposing Guy Brenton never regained his faultless dexterity? It couldn
’
t be, she told herself firmly, while she anxiously tried to recall every detail of that morning in the theatre. Had those lacerations cut through any vital tendon? Could there be any resultant stiffening of wrist or finger? As if by some magnetism she felt her gaze drawn down to her patient, somehow she knew that those penetrating brown eyes had opened, that consciousness had returned. Involuntarily she felt her muscles stiffen as she leaned towards him
.

“
Alaine? Alaine, is she all right?
”
The words were little above a whisper as they forced their way between his dry lips.

“
Your
fiancé
e ... yes, she is unhurt.
”
Felicity spoke with gentle reassurance.
“
Please don
’
t try to speak
...
or move,
”
she added hastily as in an effort to raise his head a low groan escaped him.

“
I
’
d like a drink.
”
The words were more firmly spoken and as Felicity turned to prepare the drink she was uncomfortably aware that his eyes were following her as she moved across the small room.

“
Thank you.
”
He spoke briefly as, back at his bedside with the cup, Felicity gently slipped a supporting arm beneath her patient
’
s head.

It seemed like a dead weight as she cradled his head against her arm and held the cup carefully to his lips. There was an odd sense of unreality to Felicity in the whole thing, this prosaic action had suddenly become something strange and curiously moving, mere routine had assumed an unreasonable importance. Firmly she thrust back the disturbing thought but she found her eyes scanning the strained expression on Brenton
’
s drawn features and had to control an irresistible urge to smooth back the dark hair rumpled by long contact with the pillows.

“
That
’
s better, thanks,
”
Brenton murmured as she eased him gently back. He appeared to make an effort to concentrate before continuing.
“
I
’
m trying b remember
...
last night, wasn
’
t it?
...
the car? ... my arm is hurt, what happened ... tell me all you know!
”

“
Not very much,
”
Felicity smiled gently.
“
It was certainly a car accident, I don
’
t know any details. Why worry now, try and get some rest.
”

Ignoring the suggestion and frowning in perplexity he went on.
“
My arm
,
what is
wrong with it?
”
His lips
twisted into a ghost of that familiar ironic smile.
“
I imagine you have some vague idea of your patient
’
s case.
”

Felicity was grateful for the half-light which hid her quick flush.
“
There were some jagged cuts and a fracture of the forearm. Mr. MacFarlayne operated, I think he was quite satisfied with the result.
”

“
The surgeon usually is satisfied, he does his best, poor devil, but what about the patient? Shall
I
be satisfied?
”
There was an intensity of underlying meaning in the question and for a brief moment Felicity was obsessed
wi
th her own earlier, doubts. Thrusting back her misgivings, she replied reassuringly.

“
I am sure you will be perfectly all right. Now please rest.
”

Disregarding her injunction, Guy Brenton lowered his gaze to the
shapeless mass
of bandage and plaster at his side and with his other hand touched the inert fingers which alone protruded from the plaster enveloping the damaged arm. Summoning to her aid that firm yet kindly manner which years of nursing had taught her, she spoke again.

“
I suggest you rest, to conjecture about your condition now is quite absurd, please wait until you are stronger; in any case, I repeat, Mr. MacFarlayne is in charge of your case, he will no doubt be willing to answer all your questions when he sees you this evening.
”
Felicity was amazed at her own temerity, it seemed incredible that she had found courage to speak to Guy Brenton with such assurance and authority, although, she thought ruefully, it was just as well that he was unaware of the tremulous beating of her heart beneath the starched bib of her apron!

For a moment it seemed as if he would speak, then she saw the lids lowered over the deep-shadowed eyes, and his hand dropped back listlessly against the covers. As Felicity remained in watchful attitude beside the bed, a strange feeling of elation seized her; she had suffer
e
d many heartaches in working for this man, but it had been a battle worth fighting and she
’
d won through. This was a different fight; Guy Brenton, in those few minutes of consciousness, had recognized as she had, the disastrous effect which his injury might have on his future; it couldn
’
t be, it mustn
’
t! This time she
’
d be fighting with him and for him, it mattered so much, so very much. She didn
’
t know why tears pricked her eyelids, she had already told herself that to be emotional about a patient was ridiculous, but this case had become a challenge, yet her urgent and intense desire for Guy Brenton
’
s complete recovery was something entirely beyond her own comprehension.

CHAPTER
FOUR

Although
St.
Edwin
’
s
was situated within a mile or so of the heart of London, the resident staff were usually quite satisfied to spend any odd free time in the cafes and cinemas of the neighborhood. It was easier not to have to worry about last trains or buses and, quite as important, it was considerably less drain on their pockets. Seated that evening with her three friends in the large, modern picture house a few minutes
’
walk from the Hospital, Felicity felt she was relaxing for the first time that day—and what a long day it seemed, it might have been a decade since Diana had come to her bedroom that morning.

The familiar, crashing chords heralded the end of the Newsreel, then the title of the feature film, preceded by the customary censorship announcement, flashed on to the screen. Felicity tried hard to concentrate on the story which unfolded, the misunderstanding of the hero and heroine which she was sure would persist throughout the story, seemed particularly irritating, they so obviously loved one another, the other characters knew, the audience knew, it just seemed impossible that a sensible man and girl could waste so much time before the inevitable happy ending; Felicity smothered a sigh as she settled more comfortably in her seat; anyway it was restful and she had to admit as she half closed her eyes the semi-darkness of the cinema had a delightfully soporific effect. It was pleasing too, to be with such good friends, she got on well with most of the staff with whom she came in contact, but in Diana she had found closer companionship than with any of the other girls. Philip and Bill were good fun too, they had made a cheerful foursome for months now and although she rather tended to pair off with Philip Elver, she had never encouraged him to expert more than her friendship.

Diana made no secret of the fact that she and Bill were on rather more intimate terms. Felicity envied Diana the ease with which she accepted the passing pleasures life offered, unruffled she could skim across the surface of love, unharming and unharmed. Often Felicity longed to be able to adopt her friend
’
s carefree approach to the opposite sex. Life had not been so kind to Felicity and sometimes she wondered if the old wound would ever heal. She had loved once, could that ecstatic dream ever be repeated? Her thoughts wandered back to that time, nearly four years ago, when her mother
’
s sudden and unexpected remarriage had completely altered the course of her own life as well as that of her brother. From the very first, neither she nor her brother, Tony, had felt anything but animosity toward the stocky Yorkshireman, who had taken the place of their aesthetic, scholarly father. Tony, after a brief struggle, had given up hope of reconciling himself to the changed atmosphere of his home life, and although only two years Felicity
’
s senior, had set out to seek a new life in America. He had left with promises to send for Felicity as soon as he had a home to offer her. He wrote regularly, cheerful, happy letters, but farming was an uphill job and he still had to work his way to his ultimate goal. She was lonely and restless following his departure and had flung herself into any distraction their large country estate could provide. Luckily she had been able to indulge in her passion for riding and it was perhaps only astride her mare, with the wind blowing wild through the golden tendrils of her hair, that she had ever, in those dreary months, attained anything approaching happiness.

It was shortly after her father
’
s death, when she was still barely twenty, that she had met Peter. At first his immediate companionship and understanding had been a solace
in her loneliness; friendship had quickly ripened to something deeper. Peter became the pivot round which her whole existence revolved and the months of their engagement had brought her intense joy. Three days before her wedding, Peter had been thrown from his horse. She still had only to close her eyes to see again his twisted figure, the white mask of his face against the bracken. To Felicity, at the time, it seemed as if her world had come to an end, there was nothing more in life, love had gone, only utter despair remained.

Her brother, struggling to
make a living in California,
had begged her to join him, but realizing his difficulties, she could not bring herself to be an added burden. In her moments of deepest grief she had even considered a religious life but it was her brother
’
s happy suggestion that by taking up nursing she would, as he had done, not only gain her independence, but also freedom from the home she had grown to hate. On reflection it had certainly seemed a better solution than a cloistered life and from the day she had commenced duty as a probationer at St. Edwin
’
s she had never regretted her decision.

Philip, under the covering darkness, leaned closer and took her hand firmly in his.
“
Wake up, Sweet, you are missing the best bit,
”
he whispered, as he gripped her fingers firmly in his. Holding hands was the closest form of intimacy Philip had ever attained during their long friendship, and she had often told herself how lucky it was that Philip had never demanded of her more than she could give.

Jerking herself from her reverie, Felicity focused her eyes on the, screen. It certainly was a good love scene in true Hollywood tradition, she was glad anyway that, immersed in her own thoughts, she must have missed all the stupid misunderstandings leading up to that happy end. She supposed the script writer had to think up something, you couldn
’
t just have an end without a beginning! Possibly a middle too
...
she choked back a sigh, her story seemed to have no middle and no end. It had all happened so long ago, three whole years, she had grown up since then, had lived and learned. She was contented too, she loved her work and the camaraderie of hospital life, and she, knew in her heart that her first love was little more than a memory, sometimes almost unreal. It had passed, but in the passing she had known an ecstasy which,
until she could match it, she would never risk again.

The strains of the
National Anthem brought the audience to their feet, then mingling with the crowds the four friends edged their way slowly towards the exit.

“
Jolly good film. I liked it, didn
’
t you?
”
Diana asked Felicity as they found themselves outside.

Philip slipped his arm through Felicity
’
s and drew her ahead of the other two, then turned over his shoulder to speak to Diana.
“
I shouldn
’
t bother to ask Felicity about the
picture, she was asleep most of the time!
”
He laughed, then added:
“
How about a drink before we turn in?
”

“
Good idea,
”
Bill Newlyn agreed as with Diana at his side he followed Philip
’
s lead.
“
Are you making for the
‘
Kettle
’
?
I think on the whole it
’
s the best.
”

“
As you like.
”
Philip steered his companion between the cars emerging from the car park, to the other side of the road.
“
O.K. by you?
”
he asked Felicity.

“
Anywhere you say.
”
The cool night air had revived Felicity and she had almost regained her normal gaiety.
“
I expect half the Hospital will be there, they
’
ll have something to talk about tonight, when they see me I shall be bombarded with questions.
”

Diana and Bill having now caught up with the other two joined in the conversation.
“
Those ghouls of nurses will want all the gory details about old Brenton; give them good value, what you don
’
t know, make up!
”

“
The Kettle
”
was a favourite rendezvous of the staff, and most evenings groups from St. Edwin
’
s could be seen chatting over cups of tea or coffee, and as the four friends entered and seated themselves at a corner table they were greeted on all sides.

How right she had been, Felicity thought with inward amusement as, before they had even ordered their drinks, two housemen from the medical side had approached the table.
“
What
’
s this we hear about Brenton?
”
the taller of the two enquired, turning questioningly to Philip.
“
They say it
’
s serious, he won
’
t be back on
the
job for months?
”
“
Garner says he was at the
‘
op
’
this morning and he wonders if he
’
ll ever operate again,
”
the other joined in before Philip had a chance
to reply.

“
I wasn
’
t at the
‘
op
’
and I don
’
t know,
”
Philip responded briefly; he turned to Felicity and with a sly wink added:
“
You were there, Felicity, you are nursing him too, you ought to have all the low-down.
”

“
Mr. Brenton has recovered from the operat
i
on and is progressing as well as can be expected,
”
Felicity announced as if reading a bulletin.

“
Hi, Nurse, come off it!
”
Garner exclaimed.
“
We are only making a polite enquiry.
”

Ignoring the newcomers, Felicity addressed her companions at the table.
“
And I thought you said the nurses
were ghouls?
”
she queried meaningly, but she had spoken too soon, almost before the words were out of her mouth two nurses from the women
’
s surgical side came up.

“
I say, Dene, any news about Brenton, what
’
s the latest?
”
one of them enquired.

“
Now, young ladies, hop it,
”
Bill stated without ceremony.
“
Nurse Dene is just not talking, so that
’
s that!
”

“
Oh come on, Dent, tell us, be a sport! He must be a hell of a patient, I don
’
t envy you nursing him. I know it would kill me.
”
She giggled.
“
They say he is engaged too, have you seen the girl?
”
she asked with ill-concealed curiosity.

The waitress arriving at that moment to take the order caused a momentary diversion, the eager questioners gathered round the table fell aside to let her pass but immediately pressed round again and there was a chorus of
“
Have you seen the girl, what
’
s she like?
”

As Felicity merely shook her head in negation, Diana
’
s clear slow voice broke in.
“
They say she is a beauty, but you saw her in Out Patients; didn
’
t you, Phil?
”

“
Yes, she
’
s a corker,
”
he admitted.
“
Nothing wrong with Brenton
’
s taste, couldn
’
t have picked better myself!
”

“
How any girl could put up with his curt manner I don
’
t know,
”
a nurse sitting at the next table now joined in.
“
I can
’
t imagine him bothering with any girl;
not even a
fiancée
!
”

Suddenly Felicity felt completely detached. It was as if her three friends were no longer beside her and the men and girls standing at the table had faded completely from her vision. In her imagination she was back in that small white
-
walled room where only the deep sound of her patient
’
s breathing had broken the silence until with little more than a whisper he had murmured a name.
“
Alaine.
”
Surely no deeper proof was needed that during those long hours of unconsciousness she alone had remained vivid in his mind.

The return of the waitress balancing a tray again caused a distraction and after an unmistakable hint from Diana that they
’
d like their tea in peace, the unwelcome questioners returned to their own tables.

“
Thank the Lord for that!
”
Bill murmured fervently.
“
Go on, Di, pour out, Felicity seems to be finishing her doze!
”

“
Sorry!
”
Felicity laughed as she recalled herself to the present and took the proffered cup from Diana
’
s hand. Accepting a cake from the selection on the dish which Philip offered her, she spoke.
“
I say, Phil, this rumour that
’
s going round—I heard it first at lunch in the Nurses
’
Hall, then again at tea—the idea that Brenton might never get back the full use of his hand, is there any truth in it?
”