Secret for a Nightingale (42 page)

I was not surprised to see him there. He had taken some bottles from a shelf and was frowning at them.

“Dr. Adair.”

He swung round.

“Miss er -‘ ” Pleydell,” I said.

“Oh yes, of course.”

I said: “There is a man out there. I know him. I know his wife. She has a baby.”

“There are a lot of men out there. I dare say many of them have wives and babies. What is there special about your man?”

“He must not die. He must be saved.”

“It is our duty to save them all if that is possible.”

I went to him and, seizing his arm, shook it. He looked surprised and faintly amused.

“Please,” I said.

“Look at him … now. Tell me that he can be saved. You must save his life.”

“Where is he?”

“I will take you to him.”

He followed me to the ward and I took him to the bed in which William Clift lay. He examined him, which took a little time. I stood watching his deft fingers probing.

Finally he pulled the blanket up over William. He walked towards the little room and I followed him. There he turned and looked at me.

“There are two bullets in his thigh,” he said.

“They are festering. He might have a chance if they were taken out at once.”

“Give him that chance, please, J beg of you.”

He looked at me steadily. Then he said: “Very well. I will operate at once. You know him. You’d better be there. You may be of help.”

“Yes,” I said eagerly.

“Oh yes.”

“Let him be prepared. Get a screen put up round the bed. I’ll have to do it there. There’s nowhere else.”

“I will at once.”

I felt suddenly grateful to him. I knew he was the only one who could do it, even though he had cost me my own son with his experiments.

That was the strangest experience I had lived through so far. William lay on his bed. He was not sufficiently conscious to know what was about to happen to him. I was glad of that.

I kept whispering to him: “You’re going to be all right, William.

You’re going home to Lily and the baby . such a bonny baby. Lily’s so proud of him and so will you be. Home, William, that’s where you’re going. “

I did not know whether he understood what I was saying, but he seemed to be comforted.

When Dr. Adair came to us he looked at me steadily. He said: “I’d rather you did not talk about what you are about to see. I want you to be here. I think the patient needs you. But this is between us … the doctor, the nurse and the patient.”

He took a phial from his pocket.

“Give me a cup,” he said.

He took it and poured a liquid into it.

“Lift the patient’s head.”

I did so and held it while he drank the liquid.

“What’s his name?”

“William Clift.”

He nodded and leaned over William. He said: “William Clift. Look at me. Look into my eyes. Look. Look. What do you see? You see into my mind. I am going to take two bullets out of your thigh. You will feel nothing … nothing … nothing at all. Your friend is here with you, your friend from home.”

He went on looking into William’s face, saying: “You will feel nothing of this … nothing … nothing …”

William closed his eyes and appeared to sleep.

“We will act quickly,” said Damien Adair to me, ‘while the effect stays with him. “

I was trembling. I felt I was in the presence of some mystic

being whose wildly unorthodox methods were different from anything I had ever known.

“You can talk to him,” he said.

“Talk of his wife, his child and home .”

So I did. I said: “We’ll go home, William. Lily is waiting. The baby will have grown. He’ll want to see his father. Lily is so happy, waiting for you … waiting … in the shop you know … and you’ll go back and there’ll be no more blood, no more slaughter … just home … home … You’ll take the baby into the park. The park is lovely now, and the band plays there on Sundays.”

I went on and on saying the first things which came into my mind. I turned and saw the deft fingers at work. He held up one bullet; he was smiling in a triumphant way which seemed to me to be almost inhuman.

What amazed me was that William had not moved while the operation was being performed.

“Go on talking,” he commanded; and I did.

Then I heard him give a sigh. I turned. He was holding the second bullet in his hand.

“The deed is done,” he said.

“He will feel the pain presently … not yet though. He is all right for a while. When he wakes, just sit with him quietly. If he tries to talk, answer him. In an hour or so he’ll be in pain. I am going to give him something to stop it. Come to me at once if you see any sign of pain. I shall be about the ward.

Keep the screens round the bed until you are told to move them. “

I sat there beside William. I felt strangely exalted. It was like witnessing a miracle. That man had strange powers. What was it Philippe had said about him? Unique. That was true. And there was a secret between us. I was to tell no one what I had seen.

My emotions were in turmoil. I sat there for almost an hour;

then I saw that William’s face was contorted in pain. I hurried away to find Dr. Adair. He was, as he had said he would be, in the ward.

“I will come,” he said.

He came to William’s bedside and put drops from his phial into a spoon which he gave to William.

“That will give him a few more hours’ oblivion,” he said.

“And then?” I asked.

“The pain will come back, but the longer we ward it off, the more chance his body has to recover. You can leave him now. I don’t doubt you have plenty to do.”

I said: “Thank you, Dr. Adair.”

I don’t know how I got through my work that day. My thoughts were in a whirl. I kept thinking of that scene behind the screens himself, myself and the man who might be dying in his bed.

There were moments when I thought: He is experimenting with his strange skills. What right had he to experiment on human beings . using them as guinea pigs? And yet . if he had saved William’s life

I could not stop thinking of him. But then I had been doing that since I had met him . and before.

There was no one to whom I could talk of what had happened. He had implied that it was between us two.

So I lay sleepless and the first thing I did in the morning was visit William Clift.

He looked pale and very ill.

But he was still alive.

During the evening of the next day I believe he sought me out. I was in the ward and he went to William Clift’s bedside and examined him.

As he left the bedside I went into the little room. I wondered whether he would come in or pass by. He stood at the door. He was smiling at me triumphantly.

“Well,” he said, “I think we are going to keep our patient.” Waves of relief swept over me. I forgot my animosity towards him in that moment.

“Are you sure?”

He looked impatient.

“No one can ever be sure. At the moment I can say he is as well as can be expected, no better. And that is progress.”

He studied me intently.

“He will need careful nursing,” he went on.

“Of course.”

“You should look after him. Keep him regaled with stories of his wife and baby.”

My voice was shaky.

“I’ll do that.”

He nodded and went out.

I was with William a great deal. I dressed his wounds. I talked to him of home. I saw the listlessness drop from him. I saw the hope in his eyes.

A week after the incident Dr. Adair passed me in the ward. He said: “I think we are going to send our patient home hale and hearty to his wife and baby.”

I don’t think I had felt so happy since Julian had died.

During the long summer months fewer casualties were brought into the hospital and, as always, most of those who came were suffering more from disease than from wounds. William Clift was recovering satisfactorily, which meant not too fast, for I feared if he were fully recovered he would be sent out to fight again. He was very weak but he was no longer in danger and that was how I wanted it.

Ethel was officially engaged and radiant. She talked continually about the farm in the country. She was so grateful to Tom because when she had told him about herself, he understood. She planned to have lots of children and live happily ever after.

Eliza was delighted with the way life had turned out for Ethel. I had discovered that she was a woman who liked to have someone to look after; and now that Tom was looking after Ethel, she turned her attentions to me. She was one of the few people who knew about my past, since I had told her during that stormy night on deck; she never betrayed the confidence, but it had changed her attitude towards me.

She wanted me to find a husband as Ethel had done. She was aware of Dr. Fenwick’s feelings for me and she thought that ideal. It was rather amusing to discover the soft side of her nature. She looked so formidable, so ready to fight for what she considered her rights.

Quite a number of nurses were afraid of her so were the patients, and they obeyed her without question. They called her Big Eliza. I had grown very fond of her.

Henrietta was in good spirits. She had been flattered to be the chosen of the unknown pasha or sultan who wanted her for his harem and laughed a great deal about the incident. She talked of the mysteries of the East and what fun it would be to explore them. She said she could understand Dr. Adair’s absorption with the subject. She seemed often to bring the conversation round to him.

“I saw him today,” she would say.

“He really is magnificent. He has that air of authority. None would dare disobey his orders. You have the impression that he is a superior being. Do you feel that, Anna, now that you know him a little?”

“No,” I retorted.

“He is a doctor who likes to experiment. I think he enjoys taking risks.”

“He saved Lily’s husband’s life.”

“Sometimes risks are successful, but I think he was showing how clever he was.”

“You are unfair to him, Anna. I think he is wonderful. I often laugh about our project. Do you remember how we used to talk about him? How we set out on our quest to find him with the object of exposing him as a fraud … a conceited mountebank?”

I was silent.

“It was all a bit of a game, wasn’t it? We never really meant it seriously. How could we? And when you see him here … He makes the others seem very insignificant. Oh, I don’t mean that… quite.

Charles is such a good man, but. “

“You prefer the sinner to the saint.”

“I don’t think the terms apply. Charles isn’t a saint, is he? And Dr. Adair … well, perhaps … Anyway, I think he is the most attractive man I have ever met.”

She folded her hands across her breast and raised her eyes to the ceiling. Henrietta’s gestures, like her talk, were often exaggerated.

I did not say anything more. I felt I could not discuss him with Henrietta.

But Eliza talked of Henrietta to me.

She said: “I’m worried about her. There could be trouble. I don’t think it’s good for a young woman to feel like she does about that Dr. Adair. It’s what got poor Eth. And look at that. The swine goes off and leaves her with a child.”

“What has that got to do with Henrietta and Dr. Adair?”

“She’s got that feeling for him. She’ll be wax in his hands.”

“Oh, Eliza, you are too melodramatic.”

“I know men. In the trade you had to. All that adoring is just what they want. They can’t have enough of it at first. Then when they’re tired of a girl they don’t want it no more … not from her. But at first it’s right up their street. I don’t reckon Dr. High and Mighty’s any different from the others. And she’s going round making no secret of the fact that she’s there for the taking.”

“No, Eliza, that’s not true. It is just that we’ve always been rather interested in him.”

She looked at me sharply.

“Not you! You’d have more sense, wouldn’t you?”

“Enough sense for what?”

“To keep away from the likes of him.”

“Yes, Eliza, I’d have that much good sense.”

“The other doctor is a very nice gentleman. He’s sweet on you and you could do worse.”

“It’s good of you, Eliza,” I said with feeling.

“I believe you really do care.”

“Course I care. I don’t want to see you or Henrietta make fools of yourself over men.”

“We won’t.”

She shook her head as though to imply she was not so sure.

We were through August, and September was with us. We were all feeling a little uneasy. The thought of having to go through another winter was very depressing.

The Russians were getting desperate. So were the French and English.

Then we heard that a terrific battle was raging before Sebastopol and in trepidation we waited for the result.

We did not have to wait long. A messenger arrived, and we all rushed to meet him to hear the latest news.

The French had stormed and taken Malakoff Fort.

“Thank God,” the cry went up, for we all knew that the Fort was the key to Sebastopol.

“The Russians are fleeing from the city, but they have set what is left of it on fire. It is nothing but a mass of flames.”

Then suddenly we were all embracing each other.

For nearly twelve months we had been waiting for Sebastopol to fall;

and now it had happened. There was not a doubt among us that the war was over.

We were right, although there were a few pockets of resistance to overcome. The bulk of our work was over. Everyone was talking of home.

But, of course, the hospital was full of patients, some of them too ill to be moved. We could not all go and leave them. It was decided that we should go in relays and some of us would have to remain until there was nothing left to be done.

In view of the exceptional circumstances, Ethel was one of the first to leave. Although Tom was well enough to go, he still needed attention and Ethel was to go with him to give it to him.

I stood with Henrietta and Eliza watching them embark. How different she was from the girl who had come here. I fell to thinking that there appeared to be good even to come out of evil, for the war had taken Ethel out of a wretched life which could not have been of long duration and had given her a future which promised to be good.