Nurse in Love (14 page)

Rigid with distaste, Kathryn heard herself saying: “It’s better that I should, I daresay.”

“But you hate it!”

Kathryn shrugged. “It’s never very pleasant to hear yourself accused of an offence you weren’t even aware of committing.” She wondered that she could discuss it so evenly. But perhaps she was past being hurt.

“I ought not to have told you, even though Thelma suggested that I should give you a hint. It simply slipped out when I was thinking about how men want us in their patterns just so. Simon making his plans, Dr
.
Brand needing you and appreciating you on the ward
—
”

“It’s where our relationship does begin and end, after all,” Kathryn reminded her.

“But surely that’s for you to say! Not for Dr
.
Brand, nor for Thelma Carter!” protested Sara loyally.

Kathryn forced a laugh. “They seem to have said it quite effectually all the same. I must go guardedly in my social contacts, I can see!” She was glad to believe that nothing in her tone could betray to Sara that her flippancy would not last, and that already an emotion that was more than distaste was pounding relentlessly at her heart, trampling it under
...

In the dining-room Sara went to join the other night
-
nurses, and Kathryn did not see her again before she went on duty. She herself went to the Sisters’ sitting
-
room and watched a television play through to its end, determined to take its problems, not her own, to bed with her when she went. But as she said good night to her companions after it, she was called to the telephone by one of the maids.

“Is that you Kathryn?” It was Barbara’s voice, sounding urgent and rather worried. “I phoned you because I know Sara will already have gone on duty and the doctor has only just left after his second visit to-day. It’s Carol—she hasn’t been herself for a day or two, but we didn’t call the doctor until to-day.”

“Sara doesn’t know?”

“No. She hasn’t been able to come over since her last off-duty, and I didn’t want to worry her without cause. That’s why I called you, hoping you’d break it to her in the morning, if she must know. I’ll ring you again, of course.”

“What’s the matter with Carol, do you think?”

“The doctor seems doubtful. She has a headache and has just begun to run a temperature, but hasn’t any other symptoms. It could be any of the childish diseases, I suppose, but I’m worried because Sara has told me of a similar, vague illness that she had once before. Can you suggest what it might be, Kathryn?”

“Not without seeing her, and probably not then, if your doctor doesn’t know.”

“I’ve got the feeling he does know, but isn’t committing himself,” worried Barbara.

“When is he seeing her again?”

“In the morning.”

“And what then?”

“It depends on what’s the matter, I suppose.” Barbara paused and sighed. “I hope it isn’t anything much, but if it is I can’t help wishing that she could be in your care—yours and Dr
.
Brand’s.”

“Don’t worry ahead, Barbara. It may be nothing, though if she had to come into hospital she would be in our care.”

“I know, and that comforts me a lot. You and Adam Brand are such a team, and he has got the most perfect confidence in you.”

“Has he?”
(
But he doesn’t care to find me dogging his footsteps on the ward,
ran the twisting irony of Kathryn’s thoughts.)

“Yes. He talked to Victor at Carol’s party, though Victor didn’t resurrect the conversation for me until days later.”

“Was it meant to be ‘resurrected’?” queried Kathryn.

“Well, it wasn’t said in confidence, and in my opinion not nearly en
o
ugh ‘good reports’ are passed on to the people concerned, although the critical, upsetting ones almost always are. And Adam said of you, Kathryn, that besides a remarkable integrity and skill you had a rare understanding that, for him, outmatched either. Don’t you find that rather pride-warming? I should.”

“Yes, I do.”
(
But it still doesn’t cancel out that other evil thing!)

Barbara seemed to be waiting. At last she said flatly: “Somehow I thought you’d be more pleased.”

“I am—gratified.” Kathryn chose the word with care. “Coming from a specialist—of the mere ward Sister working under him—it’s high praise indeed.”

“You sound determined to believe he was talking just about your work.”

“I’m sure he was. Dr
.
Brand and I are not likely to meet often on any other plane.”

Barbara did not answer, and with a word of reassurance about Carol, Kathryn rang off.

But Barbara, at her end of the line, stood thoughtfully, the receiver still in her hand. She was wondering
—
wondering quite a lot—about a note of asperity which, in Kathryn’s gentle voice, she had never heard before.

CHAPTER EIGHT

At
the Wardrop the day staff went on duty before the night staff came off, so that Kathryn did not see Sara before going to her own ward. But there had been no telephone call, and she decided against leaving a message for the girl until more definite news came through.

When it did it came unexpectedly and disturbingly, not from Barbara, but from Casualty Ward.

“Children’s Ward? Sister Clare? Can you accept immediately a case for observation by Dr
.
Brand? It’s a child of seven, Carol Spender the name, a patient Dr
.
Freeman’s,” came Casualty Sister’s impersonal enquiry.

Kathryn drew a sharp breath, but this was no time for explaining her personal interest in Carol. “When am I to expect her?” she asked.

“Almost at once. The ambulance left here ten minutes ago.”

“Does Dr
.
Brand know?”

“He’ll have been notified by Dr
.
Freeman. But you should let him know when you have admitted the patient.”

“I’ll do that,” promised Kathryn. “He’s due at Out
-
Patients’ Clinic at ten.”

Immediately she rang off there was another buzz on the switchboard, and Barbara was put through.

“Oh, Kathryn, I’ve been waiting for your fine to clear! What do you think? The doctor has ordered Carol into hospital urgently—we’re waiting for the ambulance now.”

“Yes, I know, Barbara. I’ve just been told to expect
her. What’s the matter? Has your doctor said?”

“Victor stayed from school to see him, and he told him, not me. It’s something spinal, Kathryn. He fears
—
meningitis. He told Victor so.”

Kathryn was shocked, but she dared not betray the fact to Barbara, who sounded ready to believe the worst. She said quietly: “Then this is the best possible place for her, in Dr
.
Brand’s care. If it were likely to be anything serious, that was what you wanted, wasn’t it?”

“Yes—and in yours too. Kathryn
—
” Barbara
paused. “She—she isn’t likely to be another—Peter, is she?”

“You mustn’t let yourself believe so for a moment,” Kathryn told her firmly. “Meanwhile, Sara must be told, mustn’t she?”

“I rang her before I got through to you. But Home Sister said she’d already gone to bed, and advised against telling her until Carol was in hospital and Dr
.
Brand had seen her
—
Oh, there’s the ambulance
arriving now
!”

Barbara rang off, and Kathryn went back to the single-bed ward where she had decided to isolate Carol. She saw to its final preparations—the hot-water bottle between the sheets, the bedclothes turned back lengthwise, the covered jug of barley-water on the locker-top—and then went to ring Adam Brand at the Clinic.

“Yes? Yes?” He sounded brusque and preoccupied, as if she had interrupted a consultation. But there was a sympathetic concern in his voice as he went on: “It’s Carol, isn’t it? Well, I’ll be on the ward inside ten minutes. Meanwhile, get her into bed and leave somebody with her.”

For all her experience, Kathryn was scarcely prepared for the change in Carol from the merry, laughing person of her birthday party to the sick, restless child being gently slipped from the ambulance blankets into the bed made ready for her. She was deeply flushed, and there was something sinister to be read into the way her head lolled persistently to one side. Kathryn laid a tentative hand upon her brow, pushing back the clinging hair, and then felt for the racing, pounding pulse in her wrist. Carol seemed barely conscious, but as Kathryn put her hand back beneath the covers she stirred and tossed, muttering: “Want Sara
—
”

“Sara will come, darling.” As Kathryn turned away she noticed something on the floor, something dropped by the ambulance men when they had folded their blankets. She stooped—and then smiled as her fingers closed round a teddy-bear’s plump plush leg. So Edward, that persistent malingerer, had got himself admitted to hospital at last!

She bent him at the hips into a sitting posture and was placing him on the locker-top where Carol could see him, when Adam Brand came in.

“How is the patient Sister?”

Kathryn reported upon the pulse, and stood by while he consulted a card of details given to him by Carol’s doctor. Then he made his own examination, looking, feeling and listening with the pure, deep concentration that was characteristic of his skill.

He stood back at last, fingering his chin thoughtfully. “Has she a chart?” he asked.

“Not yet. Staff Nurse was getting one ready in my office.”

He gestured towards the door, and they went out together. Outside he said: “Well, Dr
.
Freeman diagnosed meningitis, and I’d confirm that, subject to the path, report on the spinal fluid. I shall do a puncture this afternoon, so have her ready at two-thirty, will you? Who came in with her—her sister?”

“No, she’s on night duty on Men’s Medical. Barbara
—
Mrs. Thorley—brought her.”

“If she’s waiting, would you like me to see her?”

“If you would
—
”

Barbara, Kathryn could see, was not taking well the shock of Carol’s illness. She was much too inclined to blame herself, and it took some patient argument by Adam to convince her that no precautions, apart from the ordinary rules of health, could have guarded against the onset of such a disease.

Kathryn, standing by, noticed that he did not commit himself to any hearty reassurance, and she sensed that he had none to give. Carol was very ill indeed, and, without needing the confirmation of a pathological report, Adam Brand knew it only too well.

The report, when it came, was positive; by that time Carol’s fever had risen, making her only partially conscious most of the time; and Sara had received permission from Matron to visit the ward.

Was she taking it better than Barbara? It was hard to tell. Home Sister, who had broken the news to her, had told Kathryn that she had gone very white, but had taken it quietly. And she was still quiet and withdrawn as she stood looking down at Carol without speaking. Then: “Why can’t I
do
something for her?” she muttered.

Kathryn laid a hand upon her arm. “It’s the best possible thing for her to be here, Sara,” she said. “Dr
.
Brand or our house physician sees her every few hours. And you can trust her to me, can’t you?”

“Yes, but it’s not the same, don’t you see? Whenever she was ill before,
I
nursed her. She turned to
me.”

“She’s never been as ill as this before,” was Kathryn’s grave reminder.

“No, but that’s all the more reason! because, if
—
if anything happened to her. I should have it to bear all my life that I’d been able to do nothing for her
—
nothing
!”

Kathryn signalled her from the room. “Come into my office,” she said. “We mustn’t talk here.”

When they were alone she went on: “I know just what you’re feeling, Sara. I was the same about Peter
—
Barbara’s baby. I would willingly have sacrificed all my off-duty and every night’s sleep if I could have saved him. I was only a staff nurse then, but I was actually inclined to distrust any skill that wasn’t mine, and I could hardly bear to wait for the success or failure of any treatment that was tried. Nothing was successful, as you know, and for a time I’d got things so out of proportion that I even wanted to blame myself for that. You mustn’t make the same mistake, Sara
—
of resenting to leave Carol in hands far cleverer than yours, while you are forced to stand by, doing nothing.”

“You say you understand—but that doesn’t help much,” muttered Sara. “Of course I know that there’s nothing I could really do, except the ordinary insignificant things a student nurse does for every patient. But I could at least be doing those, if—if Matron would give me a transfer from nights to your ward while Carol is here! Kathryn, could I ask her, do you think? Or could yo
u
?”

Did Sara really imagine that the whole mechanism of hospital duty could be stopped and turned to suit a single personal problem like her own? What a long way she had still to go to learn the true, demanding discipline of the work she loved, thought Kathryn, pitying her.

Sara was urging: “Matron couldn’t refuse, could she? I could be just as useful here
—
”

“You mustn’t ask her, Sara.” Kathryn’s voice was gentle, but firm.

“Then I shall ask Dr
.
Brand! He’s fond of Carol, and he knows what she means to me. He’ll understand. He
—
”

She broke off guiltily and sprang to automatic attention as Adam himself came in. He glanced from one to the other, sensing the tension he had caused. Besides, he had heard part of Sara’s outburst.

“What were you going to ask me, Nurse?” he enquired, addressing her directly.

“1—I so badly want a transfer to this ward, so that I could help in nursing Carol. And I hoped that perhaps you would speak to Matron for me, if
I
asked you.” Sara was too desperate to be shy, though she had flushed deeply and her hands were working nervously at her sides.

Adam’s brows went up. “But aren’t you working on another ward? On night duty, I understood?” His glance of enquiry passed to Kathryn, who nodded confirmation.

Adam faced her decisively. “I’m afraid you can’t expect me to intervene. For one thing you have already been assigned a duty which is yours until you are
relieved of it. And apart from that
—
” He paused,
seemingly taking in every detail of the tense young figure before him. And when he continued it seemed
to Kathryn that he had weighed the telling significance of each word as he said: “Apart from that, you would not be of any help to Carol. She’s too ill for her nursing to be complicated by any of the fret and worry you would bring to it because you care for her so much. You could, in fact, hinder her recovery very seriously. Is that clear?”

Sara blanched as if she had been struck. She opened her lips as if about to speak, but no words came.

Adam went to her and laid his hand upon her shoulder. “You find that pretty hard to accept, don't you?” he asked.

Sara nodded, and he went on: “All the same, my concern is with Carol, not with you. You must try to believe that I know best.”

“She’ll
need
me
—
” murmured Sara rebelliously.

“—And you may see her as often as possible. I promise that. But you must be content to leave her care to me.”

Kathryn, seeing the tears begin to well into Sara’s blue eyes, said compassionately:
“You
may
go,
Nurse.”

And Sara turned and plunged from the room.

She left silence behind her. Then Adam said: “You consider I was brutal, don’t you?”

“You were her last court of appeal, and she sincerely believed you would help her,” evaded Kathryn.

“That means you think I was. But how would you treat a case of hysteria?”

“I should be firm
—
”

“Implying that would stop short of being hurtful? But here the truth
was
hurtful—and still had to be told. Shall we go to the child now?”

She went with him, thinking how ruthlessly he saw his duty always. Just so had he conceived that he had a duty to Steven, and had brooked no weaknesses in achieving it. It seemed that for him there was no blurring of the outlines of his loyalties, whether personal, as to Steven, or to his work. It was a strength, a sureness that she longed to have the right to lean
upon, to know that it would always wrap her about
—

H
e was thoughtful as they left Carol’s bedside, and on their return to her office he said: “I’m not satisfied. I shall call Sir Paul Denver in consultation. You’ve met him, haven’t you?”

“Yes, but only briefly—at Thelma Carter’s party for Steven. How did you know?”

“He told me so. Or rather, he described you to me, not knowing of our connection. You made a deep impression upon him.”

“But I didn’t tell him I was a nurse
—
”

“I meant an impression as a woman, not as a nurse. Does that surprise you?”

“Yes, because we met only as briefly as people do at such parties.”

“And you’d judge that your personality couldn’t have impinged upon him in the time? Kathryn Clare have you no conception of what you bring to your relationships w
i
th other people, however brief?”

Startled by the change of intensity in his tone, she looked up at him to meet his eyes almost accusingly upon hers. “I—don’t know what you mean,” she faltered.

“Don’t you? Then you must have forgotten our own first meeting—our first real meeting, I mean, here in hospital.”

“I’ve forgotten nothing about it,” she assured him quietly.