New Doctor at Northmoor (17 page)

It was strange how there was always something happening in the hospital world. The young houseman who was so nice to Gwenny, looked in to take her blood pressure. He was a nice young man, rather shy and gentle. Gwenny liked him but of course, no man measured up really well beside the R.M.O.

His name was Peter White, and each time he came into Gwenny
’
s room he to
ld her a bit more about his gentle existence, which was straddled between his life at the hospital, his studies and his dreams of a brilliant future which even he didn
’
t believe in really, and his gentle family and all the pets.

Sometimes he made Gwenny feel sad because her own background was so turbulent, so without warmth and love, yet his was cosy for all its ordinariness.
‘
Nothing ever happens at my home,
’
he told Gwenny that day.

‘
Don
’
t you mind that,
’
she told him sincerely.
‘
It isn
’
t always the nicest homes where things are happening all the time.
’

‘
No, but I like to tell you bits of news when I come in here,
’
he protested,
‘
and I
’
ve come to the end of the things at home. You know it all. Would you like some hospital news?
’

Gwenny chuckled. She wondered if he knew all the things she had heard of since she had been in here, such as Catherine Allen and her beau coming in up the fire stairs in the small hours, and the plot her brother was hatching by way of taking Jock
’
s bird to the vet to get his girl-friend to himself for five minutes, and the way the R.M.O. had lifted Fairmead from under her mother
’
s nose, and robbed her brother Laurence of the very job of R.M.O. in this hospital. Gwenny had no doubt that everyone else here knew about those things, but she doubted if young Peter White did. And she hadn
’
t the heart to tell him so.

‘
All right, some hospital news,
’
she agreed.

‘
Well, there
’
s one really good bit which I think I shall leave till last, because it
’
s the biggest shot in my bow, or whatever the saying is. The little bits of news are that the Almoner was jammed in the lift for three hours this morning, until they could get her out, and if she had gone back when her assistant called her, she wouldn
’
t have been there at all. Sir Giles Faraday would have been the one to get stuck and that wouldn
’
t have done at all.
’

‘
Why would he?
’
Gwenny argued.

‘
Well, you see, he was hurrying for the lift, but she nipped in first and pretended she didn
’
t see him. Highly irregular, of course, and there are some folks who are unkind enough to say serve her right. Well, another bit of news is that a whole batch of rubber gloves have been mysteriously cooked in the sterilizer for the third day running
—’

Gwenny couldn
’
t resist that one.
‘
What
’
s mysterious about it? That
’
ll be Catherine Allen again. I heard the nurses talking about it the first time she did it. She
’
s just plain scatterbrained!
’

‘
Oh, you knew it all the time!
’
He was so disappointed.
‘
Oh, well, I
’
ve got nothing else for you except about the kitten that keeps somehow getting into Matron
’
s bedroom and going to sleep all cuddled up by the teddy bear rumour has it she keeps in her room. Matron can
’
t abide cats, and she hasn
’
t got the heart to do something drastic about this one because it
’
s so wee.
’

‘
But I like that story
!’
Gwenny exclaimed, her eyes shining.
‘
Why does she keep a teddy bear in her bedroom?
’

‘
Oh, well, that
’
s not so extraordinary, really. One of the children gave it to her as a goodbye present—one of the miracle cures. She keeps it for sentiment.
’

‘
That
’
s a lovely story, honestly it is. Have you got any more?
’

‘
No, only my big piece of news, and I
’
m pretty sure you
’
ll know that already. You
’
ve heard the radio news, of course?
’

‘
No! No, honestly I haven
’
t!
’

‘
Well, I expect you know very well why your father has been popping in and out of the hospital all day?
’
he persevered, unable to believe she didn
’
t know.

A cold hand clutched at Gwenny
’
s heart. Her father, popping in and out of the hospital all day?

‘
Tell me, what is it?
’
she whispered.

He was busy packing up his sphyg. in its long black box and not really looking at Gwenny at all, so he didn
’
t see how white and quiet she had gone.

‘
Well, it so happens that there
’
s a person who owns a lot of old property in the district, and it also happens that there are at least two big development companies at each other
’
s throats for it, and the minute the old boy dies, the fun will start. My father, who is a solicitor, and will be indirectly connected with what happens, is biting his nails to the quick, and they do say people are taking bets on which company will get in, so to speak. Mind you, that
’
s only hearsay. It
’
s common knowledge locally, really, that these two lots of people have been trying to buy the land, in the old boy
’
s lifetime, and I would have said myself that he was good for another ten years, but you never know. He
’
s over-fond of the bottle and good food, and it doesn
’
t do, you know. I
’
m a vegetarian, so I know what I
’
m talking about.
’

At any other time Gwenny would have laughed at his last remark, and openly disbelieved it. But now all she could say, with dread in her heart, was:
‘
Who is the man who is dying?
’

‘
Oh, I say, don
’
t get worked up about it, or I shall get a rocket for telling you! It doesn
’
t concern you, really it doesn
’
t. But it
’
s one of your father
’
s patients and
‘

‘
Is his name Ancaster?
’
Gwenny whispered.

‘
Why, yes! Oh, there you are, you see! You knew it all the time! How you girls get the news beats me! I thought I had something fresh to tell you, really I did! Oh, well, better luck next time,
’
he said, over his shoulder, as he went out.
‘
Be seeing you
!’

Gwenny lay there, staring at the door. He had no idea what he had done. Well, why should he? It was an important thing to him, because his father was a solicitor, one of those who would likely be concerned. But to Gwenny it was the end of the world. Ancaster was the landlord of her old friend,
Mrs.
Yeedon, and when he died, she would have no roof over her head, because everyone knew that her cottage was bang in the middle of the land over which everyone was snapping like dogs over a bone.
Mrs.
Yeedon would have no place to go to, and here was Gwenny, imprisoned in a hospital bed, unable to help her.

Who could she turn to for help? What could she do
?
She grew hotter and hotter as she thought round the subject. There was no one, just no one. The only person who would be pleased would be her mother, for now she would have a real live destitute old person, whose home was being snatched away from her, and badly needing to go into the home
Mrs.
Kinglake was aching to provide.
Mrs.
Kinglake would move heaven and earth to stir things up now
!

But Ancaster hadn
’
t died, had he? Gwenny comforted herself. She only had young Peter White
’
s word for it that rich old
Mr.
Ancaster ate and drank too much, and she had only Peter White
’
s word for it that he was in the hospital anyway. She herself had heard nothing of it, though, come to think of it, she had been listening in to her headphones most of the day.

She struggled to reach them. She must keep them on all the time, in case she heard something that would be of importance to her. But she couldn
’
t reach them. Her arm seemed to have lost every ounce of strength in it. It flopped back lifeless on to the bed. She tried the other arm, and to her dismay couldn
’
t even lift it. Then the end of her bed began to twist and writhe in a truly alarming way, and the ceiling seemed to be melting and coming down like a huge opaque raindrop to meet the bedrail. She must ring for someone, the R.M.O.—she wanted him. She wanted him most of all people in the world. The one really big strong man who could put things right in a jiffy!

She cried his name aloud, but only got half-way:
‘
Mark
!
Ma-ark
...’

Her voice died, and her head slumped to one side, as he arrived at the door, but that thin cry rang in his ears for a long time as he fought to bring her back to consciousness.

CHAPTER IX

Gwenny was ill for two days, and Mark Bayfield was furious. He questioned everyone to find out who had upset her, but he couldn
’
t get any information at all. Peter White had gone off duty, for a few days
’
leave, almost at once. He didn
’
t even know Gwenny had collapsed.

‘
I think I shall have to put her on the main ward
,’
Mark said shortly to the ward sister.
‘
I didn
’
t want to, but at least she
’
ll be in everyone
’
s sight.
’

Sister didn
’
t answer. She didn
’
t have to. He knew perfectly well what she was thinking. Gwenny would certainly be in the open view of everyone, but she would also be prone to the many noises and upsets, the constant restless feeling on an open ward, and the sight—distressing to Gwenny, in all probability—of other very ill patients, and at that time there were quite a few.

He shrugged irritably, and decided to leave Gwenny where she was, and to have her specialled. But here again he was baulked, because there were so few nurses to spare for such a task. Only Catherine Allen could be spared, and Mark vetoed that idea at once. He wondered sometimes why Matron allowed Catherine to stay on. She would never make a nurse. In his heart he prayed that some unsuspecting male would marry Catherine and remove her from the hospital that way. For all the good she was, they would be, he considered,
b
etter without her.

Even so, it was Catherine, indirectly though it was, who upset Gwenny yet again, although even Catherine had no idea what she was doing.

She came in with Gwenny
’
s jug of water and her fruit juice, and she looked at Gwenny with that bright, wide-
e
yed smile and said,
‘
I
say! You are a one for hogging
the limelight, little one! You had the R.M.O. crawling up the wall! Feeling better now?
’

Gwenny agreed that she was. She felt weak as a kitten, but there were no more pains and for the moment she had forgotten what had happened.

Beyond Catherine the sun shone harshly into the dressing-table mirror. Catherine glanced that way to see what made Gwenny wince, and obligingly hung a towel over the mirror.
‘
That better?
’

Gwenny nodded.

‘
Pity! Now you won
’
t get the reflection from your secret beau
’
s new flowers. Aren
’
t they lovely? The others went off, but I like these best. Funny he doesn
’
t enclose a card with a special message!
’

Gwenny blinked and tried to remember who Catherine could be talking about. She couldn
’
t think of a single person who would be likely to send her such blooms, unless it was her brother Laurence, unexpectedly grateful for services rendered.

Services rendered
...
what had made her think that
?
she asked herself. And then she remembered all about Tilda and the arrangement about taking Jock
’
s bird to the vet. How had that gone off? she wondered.

‘
What day is it?
’
she asked Catherine, who told her.

‘
You mean to say I
’
ve been sedated for two days?
’
Gwenny gasped, unbelieving.

‘
Not sedated, little one—just out for the count! Such a time we
’
ve had with you!
’

‘
Who came to see me? My brother Laurence?
’
Gwenny asked carefully. Laurence would surely try to get news to her about what had happened that day he had met Tilda? But of course, if he hadn
’
t managed to make it up with Tilda, he would probably be too cross to come near Gwenny.

‘
Not your brother Laurence, honey,
’
said Catherine, with a funny look.
‘
Everyone else in your family, though—Mamma, Papa, sister Priscilla, but no brother Laurence—only the R.M.O. You really
are
a one for setting everyone
by
the ears, aren
’
t you
?’

‘
I couldn
’
t help it,
’
Gwenny said defensively, and suddenly wished Catherine Allen would go away.

‘
That
’
s funny, that
’
s what our new patient keeps saying,
’
Catherine said lightly, as she busied herself round the room, with the intention, Gwenny thought sourly, of tidying, but merely moving everything to where Gwenny didn
’
t want it.

‘
Was it her fault?
’
Gwenny asked, without much interest.

‘
Well, I would say, off the cuff, yes,
’
Catherine murmured, softly laughing. She had such a silly laugh, Gwenny considered, and for a moment, although Gwenny didn
’
t know a thing about this new patient, she felt a strong bond of sympathy for her, simply because Catherine found her plight rather amusing.

‘
What happened to her, then?
’
Gwenny persisted.

Catherine was bored; she had had another
‘
rocket
‘
from Sister, and one from the R.M.O., rather surprisingly. He was u
sually very forbearing with her

She said, without thinking,
‘
Oh, the silly old thing went right up the wall because some stupid person came to tell her to find other accommodation, so she runs out to find someone to tell about it, slips and can
’
t get up, and lies there soaked in the thunderstorm we had. (Oh, you wouldn
’
t know about that, little one!) Anyway, the old dear got pneumonia, and we have her on our women
’
s med. making a great fuss about the cottage she
’
s to lose. They do say it
’
s damp and poky and miles from anywhere, so I really don
’
t see what she has to worry about.
’

‘
How can you be so heartless?
’
Gwenny said fiercely. The effort made her so hot she felt she couldn
’
t bear it another minute, but she couldn
’
t help it.
‘
I know only too well what it
’
s like to be in that predicament.
’

‘
You
do? But you live at home with your people!
’

‘
I didn
’
t mean that. I mean I know an old person who is also worried sick about the thought of losing her cottage. Poor old
Mrs.
Yeedon, if only I could see her again
—’

Arthur Peake quietly appeared at the door. Gwenny didn
’
t give him a second glance and Catherine seemed unaware of his presence. She said, in surprise,
‘
Why, that
is
her name!
Mrs.
Yeedon, queer old party, and
very fierce about leaving her cottage
—
Oh, dear, I
seem to have done it again!
’
she broke off ruefully, as Gwenny tried to struggle up.

‘
Mrs.
Yeedon
’
s in here ill?
’
Gwenny gasped.
‘
Why didn
’
t you say so at first? What happened? When did
it happen? Oh, why won
’
t anyone tell me
?’

The R.S.O. took over. He said to Catherine,
‘
Fetch Bayfield,
’
quietly, without looking up at her, and Catherine went, at the double. The R.M.O. had just left the main ward and was coming towards Gwenny
’
s room, so that was no problem, and Sister tagged along. All in all, there were six of them in that little room, because Sir Giles joined the fray within minutes, and Catherine was despatched to bring back the staff nurse.

She escaped to the linen room to help Cosgrove, and was genuinely bothered, for once.

Cosgrove said, unfeelingly,
‘
Not
more
trouble?
’

Catherine Allen sat down suddenly, and looked rather white.
‘
I
’
ve really done it this time,
’
she said.
‘
I wonder what that Kinglake girl has really got wrong with her? Honestly, you can
’
t say a thing to her without she gets all worked up and the fire bells go. I didn
’
t say very much—who
’
d think she
’
d know that old pneumonia case, anyway?
’

Cosgrove said:
‘
Crumbs! You fly high, don
’
t you?
’
and she looked horrified.

‘
Well, what
’
s the problem?
’
Catherine protested.

‘
I thought everyone knew that old
Mrs.
Yeedon was one of Gwenny Kinglake
’
s special friends! She came in, you know, one day. Looked a proper old scarecrow in all her best things. But I don
’
t know, she didn
’
t seem a bad old party, really, and when she and Gwenny Kinglake were left alone, they had a really good natter, and that girl looked much better for the old woman coming. She
...
she seemed to come to life,
’
said Cosgrove, and went pink because she wasn
’
t given to using words to paint a picture.

Catherine Allen didn
’
t even notice that. She was busy wondering what would happen to her. She had just realized that the R.S.O. must have been standing in the doorway behind her. At any other time, that would have aroused pleasant speculation because he not only had no need—he really had no right—to be in there. Gwenny Kinglake was purely a medical patient, not a surgical one. So it looked as if again he had been searching for Catherine herself. Oh, well, if there was a row, and he had heard what Catherine had been saying to that child Kinglake, then of course there would be the dickens of a row and Arthur Peake would lose interest.

Catherine found herself wondering why she didn
’
t like that idea very much. Men were interesting pastimes, not to be worried over. Why should she care about the R.S.O.?

People suddenly began to worry Catherine Allen. When she at last found courage to venture out from the linen room, long after Cosgrove had finished her sorting and departed, Catherine saw through the open doorway Gwenny Kinglake lying very quietly looking at the R.M.O., who sat by her side. Everyone else had gone, it seemed, except Sister, and she came out with her lips folded into a tight line, shut the door of the ward, thought better of it and opened it again a few inches, and marched away quickly—hardly noticing Catherine Allen at all.

Catherine felt a little sick. What was Mark doing sitting like that at that girl
’
s bedside? It looked as if he were holding Gwenny Kinglake
’
s hand? No wonder Sister was in a pet about it! Catherine didn
’
t like that at all. She decided she must do something about it. There was one thing she could do, she thought, as she went to the kitchen to find a nice easy job that she wouldn
’
t make a mess of, because it was becoming rather boring to keep collecting
‘
rockets
‘
. She went to the table and began to cut bread and butter, while she thought of the obvious thing she could do, to stop Mark Bayfield sitting looking all wretched and indecently upset by that girl
’
s bedside.

Gwenny had seen her go by. Just a glimpse of Catherine Allen and the old dislike of Catherine swept over her. But dislike for anyone was an emotion which could shake her and leave her feeling weak, for some reason. She didn
’
t understand it and it vaguely frightened her.

‘
What
’
s wrong with me?
’
she asked the R.M.O. bluntly.

‘
You know you
’
ve got a bug, but you won
’
t tell me what you
’
ve been up to to give me the slightest clue about it.
’

‘
Can
’
t you find out by those specimens you
’
ve been messing about with?
’

‘
Thank you very much,
’
he said dryly, but he was glad to be able to talk in this light-hearted vein to her. The last thing he wanted was to let her see how much she was beginning to mean to him. That would never do.

‘
Well, what
’
s the good of being a doctor if you can
’
t diagnose a little thing like this? Well, people carry on at my brother Laurence and say he
’
s no good, but it strikes me you
’
re not very much better.
’

‘
Isn
’
t that rather cheeky?
’
he asked quietly.

The ghost of a smile touched her lips.
‘
I suppose so. Sorry. Still, I
’
m getting awfully sick of being like this.
I wish I could be up and about again. How I wish
—’
and she had to bite hard on her bottom lip to stop it from wobbling.

‘
What would you do if I could get you on your feet by waving a magic wand? Come on, tell, just what would you do
?’
he coaxed her.

Now, he thought, now was the mood and the solitude, just the two of them, and the chance to introduce some guileless questions which just might give him the answer he needed so badly.

‘
Oh, I don
’
t know,
’
Gwenny sighed.
‘
Yes, I do, though. I
’
d go straight to
Mrs.
Yeedon
’
s cottage and I
’
d move in, so that no one could pull it down while she was ill in bed in hospital.
’

‘
Who told you that?
’
he asked sharply.

‘
Oh, someone. I heard it somewhere. Half guessed it, anyway, because of
Mr.
Ancaster being so ill. I heard Daddy say one day that if anything happened to Ancaster that would be the end of a lot of small homes, but specialty to
Mrs.
Yeedon. And I heard, two days ago, that
Mr.
Ancaster wasn
’
t expected to live. How is he
?’
Mark looked angry again, but she saw from his face, without his having to tell her, that
Mr.
Ancaster hadn
’
t pulled through. She turned away sharply, and couldn
’
t stop the flow of easy tears. She felt as if it was all too much for her and that she wished Mark Bayfield would fetch out his hypo syringe and put her to sleep for a long, long time, until all her problems were over.

‘
Don
’
t cry, my dear. That isn
’
t going to help anyone,
’
he said, in that gentle yet firm tone that got such swift results with her. And he also put his hand on her head.

It was queer, like sending electric shocks through her, and yet sooth
ing her at the same time. She co
uldn
’
t work it out at all. She only knew she wished he wouldn
’
t have to take his hand away from her head.

But of course, he did, and when he sat back, he began to talk to her in a way which seemed to flow smoothly over her yet she had to listen.

‘
You seem to be giving a lot of your strength to worrying about all the old friends you have.
Mr.
Ancaster, now
—’

‘
He wasn
’
t a friend of mine,
’
she choked.
‘
I didn
’
t even meet him. But he makes such a difference to
Mrs.
Yeedon
’
s life.
’

‘
That
’
s what I mean.
Mrs.
Yeedon, now. She is a fine, good old woman, and I do appreciate her position very well, but the fact is, the anxiety over her seems to be having an effect on you which fills me with alarm. You see, whatever may be the outcome of all the tests I
’
ve had made in our path. lab. here, one thing is certain
—
I would have much more success if I could have ensured that you had no private worries. It ought to have worked out all right. We
’
ve vetted your visitors, but I believe your mother upset you one day. I can
’
t have you under sedation all the time—you wouldn
’
t want that yourself. You
’
ve had a good run of
“
going under
”
and you seemed much better than you are now. I
’
m not the person to assume that my patients have private anxieties and I
’
m not the sort of person who demands to be told what
’
s going on in their heads while I
’
m struggling to heal their bodies, but you do see, don
’
t you, that it might just possibly make it easier for me if you did tell me
?’

She slewed round to look at him.
‘
I couldn
’
t tell you that, because it concerns you! You
’
d just blow your top and then I
’
d faint—I do stupid things like that when people get upset—and then where would we be?
’

He considered that point. Then he said,
‘
Well, having said so much, I think you
’
ll have to finish, don
’
t you?
’

‘
Where shall I begin
?
The beginning
?’

‘
That is always considered the best point,
’
he agreed gravely.

She sighed.
‘
Oh, well, here goes! Anything if it
’
s going to get me up again and out of this hospital. You know I just hate being here, of course?
’

‘
No, I didn
’
t. I should have thought you
’
d feel rested, being in a place where people are watching your well-being and comfort every hour of the day. You were allowed to run pretty wild at home, I believe?
’

She coloured.
‘
It wasn
’
t anyone
’
s fault. Each one was busy with his own concerns and I just—well, I
’
m no good for anyone.
’

‘
We
’
ll take up that point later. But let
’
s start with how I come into it, shall we
?’

‘
I
’
m going to be sorry I started this,
’
she muttered.

‘
Well, the fact is, I kept hearing about a doctor at the hospital in London where my brother and sister were, and this doctor was messing up everything for them
—’

‘
Would that be
me
?’
and his eyebrows shot up so high that Gwenny found him frankly intimidating.

‘
It was just an impression I got, from the bits I kept overhearing people discussing. No one ever
tells
me anything at our house. I just have to pick up bits as and when I can. Perhaps I got it all wrong
.

‘Go on.
We
’
ll see
.’

‘
Well, I got the feeling that Priscilla was in love with this person, but then later I got the feeling that it was someone different that she was in love with but that this doctor everyone else hated was making it difficult for her. Baulked, I heard her say she was
.’