Staff Nurse in the Tyrol (7 page)

The sterilizer was boiling by the time Sonia lifted down the last of the drums. Dear God ...
it had to be this one. She was peering into its depths when the door was flung open and Michael came in. He was almost running; the child in his arms seemed so very still except for the agonized heaving of its chest.

“Give it to me, quickly!” He snatched the drum from her as soon as he had laid the child on the table. “Hold his head. Where’s your sandbag? Never mind ... that towel will do.”

She scarcely had time to see Michael tip the contents of the drum out onto her sterile tray before he was picking up a scalpel from the small bundle of instruments. It had been the right drum after all.

“Swab it, Sonia! Again! I must see what I’m doing. Now the dilators. There—that’s done it.”

She could hear the tension go out of Michael’s voice as the child gasped, and then that terrible panting sound eased as air was at last able to reach its lungs. The dusky hue began to fade from the childish face and normal color came back gradually.

“Tracheotomy
tube ...
small one. That one will do nicely.” Michael eased the metal tube into place and began to adjust the tapes that would hold it in place. "Lift his head ... that’s it. Now the dressing.” He stepped back and mopped the perspiration from his forehead. “Whew! That was a close one! Not the sort of emergency that I’d recommend for a hot day. I ran all the way.”

Sonia found herself trembling a little now that the immediate emergency was over. What would she have done if she hadn’t found that drum? She shuddered.

“What’s the matter, Sonia?” Michael smiled at her.

She didn’t want to tell him. After all, she had managed. Nothing had gone wrong. But somehow it was impossible to keep silent. With anyone else she might have made some excuse.

He listened quietly, his eyes never leaving her face, but there was something about his attitude that made her blood pound in her ears.

“You have no business taking a job at this hospital until you know enough of the language to deal with anything that happens. It’s absolutely criminal and shouldn’t be allowed. I wonder if the Herr Direktor realizes just how little German you know. If you had any respect for your profession or even for the patients here, you’d take the next plane home. A hospital is no place for silly little fools with romantic ideas instead of sense stuffing their brains!”

Sonia stood still, too stricken to move or to cry out in protest at first. Then she tried. “But Michael, I did
manage...”

“This time, yes, but how can you be sure that you will next time? You can’t count on luck
every
time! This is medicine, not a lottery! We’re dealing in human lives and sentimental, romantic twaddle has no place here. Either you go to the Herr Direktor and tell him you’re sorry but you’ve changed your mind, or I will.”

CHAPTER FOUR

Neither Sonia nor Michael had heard the door open, and Stefan’s quiet voice broke into the silence that had followed Michael’s angry words.

“But, Michael, would it not be as well if we teach Sonia German? She is not stupid, and surely it would be kinder when she has come so far
to help...”

The pause that followed Stefan’s little speech seemed to go on endlessly. Sonia did not dare look at Michael for fear he would misinterpret her glance. Would he agree or would he smash her brave plans before they had begun?

Finally Michael shrugged his shoulders. “If you’re prepared to take the responsibility, Stefan. I, for one, am not. But I’m willing to wait another week before going to the Herr Direktor, on one
condition...”

“That condition ... what is it?”

Stefan didn’t raise his voice, but Sonia was aware of the silent struggle going on between the two men and of Michael’s resentment at being asked to take back his words.

Michael went toward the door. “That Sister Therese understands that Sonia is not fit to be left in charge of the ward alone.”

Stefan put out a hand to detain him. “That is not a kind nor fair thing to say. It is not like you, Michael, to be so unreasonable ... and Sonia, she is from your own country, is she not?”

Michael turned back and looked at them both with a sort of cold anger. “That is precisely why I’m taking this stand. If Sonia weren’t English, I wouldn’t mind. Is that too difficult for you to understand, Stefan?”

The other man shook his head a little sadly. “No, not too difficult. Greta is right when she says you have no
tendresse
for people.”

“Greta talks too much,” Michael said harshly. “Is it understood then, Sonia? You will take German lessons every day
u
ntil you know all the medical terms you will need to meet any situation. I don’t care how or when you learn. I’ll have a word with Sister Therese without mentioning this afternoon, suggesting that it might be
kinder
not to leave you alone in charge just yet. Will that suit you, Stefan?” He flung the final words over his shoulder as he left the room.

Sonia looked down at the small child, breathing more quietly now, his eyes closed in exhaustion. “Michael didn’t leave any orders for him,” she said in bewilderment.

Stefan touched her gently. “It is for me to say. Michael, is for emergency only ... how do you say it? Casualty? I am on the ward today. Tomorrow it is the other way around. I look for Sister Ther
e
se, and she will show you how to arrange
for the...”

“Steam tent?” Sonia said with returning confidence.

“Yes, that is right. Now, this
evening ...
when do you finish duty?”

“Five o’clock, I think.”

“That is good. I am finished then also. Will you not have supper with me, and I will teach you German, eh?”

Sonia looked at him hesitantly. “Are you sure it won’t be taking up too much of your time? Michael was right. I had no business taking the job until I had learned more.”

Stefan’s face darkened. “Then we will show Doct
o
r Bradbury that he is not always right, eh?” There was a firmness behind the pleasantness of his manner that reminded Sonia of Michael’s words:
He’s learned self-control in the hardest school of all.

“Thank you very much, Stefan. I can’t begin to tell you how grateful I am.” Reaction was beginning to set in and Sonia felt absurdly near to tears.

“Then do not try to give thanks. It is nothing but a pleasure to teach you. Ah, here is Sister Therese. I shall tell her the orders for the little boy.”

Sonia watched the nun’s face as Stefan talked to her in rapid German. Had Michael spoken to her yet? Did she know how close her new staff nurse had come to tragedy?

But the nun’s eyes were gentle as she gestured to Sonia to pick up the child.

Sonia followed her gratefully, and together they arranged their small patient in a steam tent in one of the side wards. The nun placed a thin sheet over the child’s body. It was almost too warm for such treatment, but a couple of hours in the steamy vapor would soothe that poor, irritated larynx and give the child some rest after his frantic struggles for breath.

The nun laid a gentle hand on the child’s forehead.
“Das geht wohl.
”
She gestured Sonia to a chair beside the cot, put a finger on her wrist, and nodded at the child.

Sonia took out her watch and began to take the boy’s pulse. The little nun smiled and pattered softly away. Sitting there at the bedside Sonia had time to think back over the events of the past hour. Why had Michael been so unreasonable? Did he have more pride of country than he admitted, or was it merely intolerance of anything less than the best performance? Had it been his long struggle to achieve his ambition that had made him like this, or did his own high standards make it impossible to condone any weakness on anyone else’s part? Perhaps he was unaware of his gentler moments, but Stefan had seemed to appeal successfully to some hidden softness in his nature ... or had it been merely an impatient escape from a situation that annoyed him?

She took out her dictionary and began to study the long list of medical phrases. It was very quiet in the little side ward, but she could hear the children beginning to rouse in the main ward, their voices still drowsy with sleep. How long did Sister Therese want her to stay, or should she go and offer to help get the children up?

Greta came in and her face was flushed. “What is it that you have been doing? Michael comes and shouts at me and tells me I am a fool to encourage you to work here, and yet he does not tell me why.”

Sonia sighed. Michael did make it hard for her. Should she tell Greta what had happened? “I didn’t know which was the tracheotomy drum since I didn’t know the German word for it,” she said quietly.

Greta stared from her to the child. “But you did the tracheotomy, so why the fuss? Michael Bradbury! Sometimes he expects nurses to be
machines ... no mistakes ... no
feelings. Are they so perfect in England, then?”

“I think it was because I’m English that he was so cross,” Sonia explained.

Greta tapped her forehead. “It does not make sense!”

“Many things do not make sense, my Greta.” Stefan approached them. “How is the boy, Sonia?”

Sonia stood up hastily and handed him the chart. “His respirations are easier, but his pulse is still rather fast. It’s so hot in here ... it doesn’t help.” Her fingers brushed back a lock of hair from the child’s forehead.

Stefan nodded. “I think perhaps we try without the vapor for a time. I shall tell Sister Th
e
rese as we go out. Ready, Sonia?”

She was aware of Greta’s suspicious stare. “If you’re sure it’s not too much trouble. I’
ll
have to change first, though.”

“In half an hour I will meet you on the terrace, eh?” He brushed past Greta and walked away down the long ward toward Sister Ther
e
se’s desk.

Sonia knew that Greta was bursting with a suspicion that might easily turn to hurt anger, so she spoke first. “Michael says that I must have German lessons if I am to stay, and Stefan has very kindly offered to teach me,” she explained.

She knew as soon as she had said it that her words were a mistake. It didn’t need the withdrawn look on Greta’s face to tell her that the other girl was furious.

“It does not take you long to collect the men, eh? It does not matter to you that they are my friends ... that until you arrived Michael and I were like that.” She held up two fingers close together. “I suppose you think you can take
Michael...”

“Who is taking my name so lightly?” Michael stood in the doorway.

Sonia could tell that he was displeased by the tight line of his mouth, but Greta was aroused past caution.

“I am telling Sonia she interferes with my friends too much. First she takes you away from me and now it is Stefan. I thought you told me that English girls are prim little mice. It is wrong! They are the sly, clever ones!”

Sonia shrank back under the lash of Greta’s angry words. This would mean the end of everything. She wouldn’t be able to make a success of this job without Greta’s
help...

Michael crossed the room in two strides, took the other girl by the shoulders, and shook her lightly. “Be quiet, Greta! You’re talking absolute nonsense. Tell Sonia you’re sorry, Quick!” He shook her again to emphasize his words.

Greta had the grace to look ashamed. “I am sorry, Sonia. I do not mean what I say.”

“It’s all right, Greta,” Sonia said hastily. She only wanted to get away.

Michael released Greta and turned to Sonia. “Aren’t you supposed to be off duty now? Off you go and have a good lesson with Stefan.”

Sonia felt herself dismissed as casually as a stray pebble on the beach, but she went with a feeling of relief. She knew Greta well enough to realize that, while the other girl would probably have forgotten the quarrel by the time she saw her next, there would probably be enough resentment lingering to cause embarrassment. What a pity it had had to happen so soon. What a day! First Michael contemptuously telling her to leave St. Anton because he didn’t think she was safe to be working there, and now Greta wanting her to go because she regarded her as an interloper and dangerous for quite another reason.

Sonia’s room seemed delightfully cool in contrast with the hot, little side ward where she had been sitting with her patient. It was wonderful to get out of her sticky uniform and to change into a thin cotton dress. She picked up the jacket that went with it, her notebook, and precious dictionary, and went slowly to the terrace. She felt strangely shy as she approached the deck chair where Stefan was sitting with his back to her. Greta’s onslaught had made her feel unsure of herself. Was Stefan’s offer prompted by pity, a desire to help Greta’s friend, or was there something else, a stronger feeling that she didn’t want?

Stefan heard her footsteps on the gravel, swung himself to his feet, and made a little bow. “You were quick changing, Sonia. Is it
permitted to say how charming a picture it is that you make?”

She found herself blushing a little. “Thank you.” She tried not to stammer.

He took her arm. “I see that you are prepared for the lesson. I have had some inspiration ... brainwave, do you not call it? We take the tram to the cable station at Igls. We take the cable car to Patscherkofel. It will be cool on the top of the mountain, will it not? We have supper on the restaurant terrace. Will you not like that? After we can walk to the top if you wish. All the time we practise German phrases that my good friend Michael says you must know. You like my idea, no?”

Sonia smiled at him in relief. Stefan had put them back on the friendly footing of that first evening. It was as if he had not overheard Michael’s scathing remarks. It was as if she had never been the object of Greta’s angry suspicions.

“I would like that very much,” she said gaily.

The little red tram came hurrying along as they reached the stop. How cool and fragrant it was under the pine trees, where the tracks wound their way in lazy switchbacks up the hillside toward the green fields of Lans, and the white houses of Igls. The sultry air of the lower valley was left below them like an unpleasant cloud. By the time they had reached the terminus at Igls there was a pleasant breeze blowing that made Sonia forget that she had been too hot.

Stefan glanced at the clock on the church tower. “If we hasten the feet, we should be in time for the next cable car.”

“How long does it take?” Sonia stared at the windows of the faraway restaurant near the summit of Patscherkofel, that were glinting in the sun.

“Half an hour, I think. It is some time since I go, so I cannot be sure. This is where we turn. The hill is steep, but it is not far. See? That white building is the cable station. If you look now you see the cable car coming down—there, against those trees.”

Sonia followed his pointing finger. “But it looks too small!” Her eyes followed the descent of what looked like a glittering beetle or something from outer space.

Stefan laughed. “It is not so small as you think. Come. It is important that we do not miss this one, or we will not have the time we wish for at the summit.”

He took her by the hand, and together they hurried up the long flight of steps. Stefan bought their tickets, and they joined the line-up waiting to go out on the platform where the down passengers were disembarking. At last the guard let them through and Stefan helped Sonia aboard. To her horror it rocked like a boat as the other passengers crowded in. It felt terribly unsafe. They were standing in the rear of the car, Sonia next to the windows with Stefan as a bulwark against the other people herding into the small space. The doors were closing, and the cable car was moving jerkily and then in smooth long swoops up and up. As they approached each pylon the cable car seemed to climb almost vertically, and then it began to drop slightly as the cable dipped before rising toward the next pylon. It was frightening at first, but soon the spectacle of the valley falling away below them like a carelessly flung carpet held her attention. The houses, churches, and hotels looked like those of some child’s toy village, and even the lakes were as small as hand mirrors.

The cable car began to slow down. “We change halfway up to another cable car,” Stefan explained.

They got out on a narrow concrete platform at the halfway station, and then above them the doors opened. A second cable car glided to a halt, reminding Sonia more strongly than ever of a child’s space comic. This time they were climbing almost vertically up, the cable slung so precariously from pylon to pylon at treetop level. She could feel her ears popping at the quick changes of altitude and swallowed hastily. Halfway up, the down cable car passed them, and she felt that she only had to reach out a hand to touch it. Then, before she had time to worry about the steepness of their climb, the cable car was jolting to a stop.

“Did you not enjoy the journey, Sonia?”

Sonia smiled at him. “I think so. It rather takes your breath away.”

“Perhaps that is so. Would you not like to refresh yourself with a cup of tea?” Stefan led Sonia onto the terrace.

As she reached the balustrade Sonia paused and then stood entranced. The ground fell away in soft folds of hill and valley, forests and fields, until it reached the shining strand of the River Inn. Mist clung to the mountains in places giving the impression that the scene was half veiled in shimmering silk.

“How lovely it all is!” Sonia took a deep breath. “How can anyone ever bear to leave it?”

“Unfortunately beautiful scenery cannot be eaten, and not always does it mean money in the pockets of the people,” Stefan said with a momentary flash of bitterness. “Forgive me. I forgot. I bring you here to show you pleasant things, not to talk of serious matters.” He pulled out a chair. “Please be seated and I will order the tea. Iced for you, or must it be hot in the English fashion?”