“I think I’d like it,” Hilary said with sudden firmness. “It would be such a change from St. David’s. I would have opted to stay on Out Patients, but I know I couldn’t bear to be here and not do my own work,” she added. “I’d get downhearted, and that would make me bad-tempered,” Hilary said decisively. “I know I just couldn’t bear watching other people doing the work I’m supposed to be doing.”
“I don’t imagine any of that is true,” Monica laughed, opening the door to leave. “I’ll look in before bedtime and let you know both what my brother says and what Matron thinks of the idea. By the way,” she said, turning back for a moment, “I’ve just thought of something. I don’t think you’ll be able to continue to live in the nurses’ residence if you’re not working at St. David’s,” she began with a troubled frown. “I hadn’t thought of that until just now ... though I know there’s a small flat that goes with Mark’s position, but he’s never availed himself of it because he’d far rather live at home. Does your family live in Hortown, Hilary? I believe you said you had an older sister?”
“Iris?” Hilary’s brows raised. “Yes, but she lives in at the college where she teaches. Our parents’ house is on St. John’s Road, but it’s leased out to two teachers from Merton Road Comprehensive School. Their holidays are almost the same as Iris’s are, so when they go home, Iris comes home, too. If I’m off duty we’re together until the holidays end. Then she goes back to college and I come back here. It might be difficult ... unless—” she brightened visibly “—I could rent the flat from your brother?”
“He doesn’t pay rent for it himself,” Monica reflected aloud. “I’m not just sure where it is, but I do know it’s a sort of super bachelor apartment. Look, don’t worry about it now, I’ll see what I can find out. The main thing was to find suitable work for you for a year, and I think we’ve taken care of that!”
“You have, you mean!” Hilary laughed, too. “And I’m grateful. I have a premonition that I’m going to enjoy working at Vale’s.”
“See you later, then,” Monica smiled, closing the door quietly behind her and hurrying, since she wanted to phone Mark as well as put in her request for an interview with Matron before she went back to her unit.
Mark was almost childishly pleased that the unknown Nurse Hilary Bell was, apparently, delighted with the prospect of being the nurse in charge of his firm’s first-aid center.
“She sounds like a sensible person,” he commented when Monica gave him a swift resume of the interview. “How old did you say she is?”
“I didn’t.” Monica’s chuckle reached him over the phone. “I think she’s twenty-four or thereabouts,” she said quietly. “She’s a pretty girl, but not one of the startlingly lovely ones I’ve tried to wish on you from time to time. You won’t have to worry about Hilary. I think she’s like myself, wedded to her career.”
“I thought Len Coggin had other ideas?” Mark countered and was rewarded by a swift assurance that “we have our plans.”
“No doubt Nurse Bell has hers, too,” Mark suggested, but Monica was not to be drawn into a discussion.
“I’ll have to go, Mark,” she said urgently. “I want to see Matron and I’ll let you know tomorrow what she says. I think it will be all right. ‘Night!”
Matron Rowland listened to Nurse Dawson without speaking, and only when Monica had concluded did Matron fire her questions, one after the other, as to the precise duties such work would entail, the hours of duty, the salary Vale’s was prepared to offer. All of which, Monica knew, would be discussed in full with the Secretary of the Board of Directors of St. David’s.
“It sounds exactly right for the circumstance,” Matron began, “but I must examine the suggestion thoroughly before giving my consent. If, as you say, Nurse Bell likes the idea, and if your brother is satisfied, I think there’re only a few final details to be settled, and that can be done quite easily. I congratulate you, Nurse, your suggestion is an excellent one. You may tell Nurse Bell to report to me in the morning, please, and we will arrange the details.”
By the time Hilary was due to present herself at Matron’s office for the second time since her illness, Jane Rowland felt she had a fairly clear picture of what the future held for this nurse of hers who reminded her so forcibly of herself at the same age.
If Hilary was surprised by the warmth of the welcome Matron gave to Nurse Dawson’s suggestion, she gave no sign. She listened as Jane Rowland said quietly that she would be pleased to see her settled at Vale’s for a year or so, knowing she would be coming back to her work here when she was stronger.
It was surprising, however, to find that Matron had already telephoned not Mark Dawson, but Simon Vale himself, to inquire about the flat reserved for the manager of the store.
“It appears the flat is situated at the top of the store itself, nurse,” she told Hilary, frowning slightly. “There are adequate fire escapes, and a night watchman, so that your safety should be assured. All the same, I would like to know exactly what the situation is there. You are still a St. David’s nurse, remember. I want to be assured of your well-being and comfort.”
Hilary, touched by this further evidence of Matron’s renowned care for her nurses, promised to give a full report on her future living accommodation, assuring Matron that if she were in the least dissatisfied she would seek a comfortable room somewhere else within easy reach of the store.
Simon Vale was a faithful follower of the traditions of his father and grandfather. He was by no means like either of them, for the actual running of the store did not interest him a great deal, although he had been trained—and had inherited sufficient flair—to know what was “good business” and what was not. His own tastes, though, were of a more academic nature.
He thought a great deal of young Mark Dawson, who seemed to Simon to be more like his own grandfather than anyone else he knew. Mark knew instinctively what would be good business. He lived and worked for the store and its people, and only old Mrs. Vale knew more than he did about the lives and ambitions of every one of the numerous employees.
After Jane Rowland had telephoned Simon the previous evening he had gone in search of his grandmother. As usual she was combing one of the three dogs that were her constant companions, but when he entered the room she patted the animal, put aside the comb and motioned him to sit down.
Simon had told her how Mark—or Mark’s sister—had found the qualified nurse they had wanted for the first-aid center. Now, it seemed, Jane Rowland was worried about the girl’s living alone at the top of the store, which would be empty at night and for the greater part of the weekends.
“Jane was always a sensible woman,” Laura Vale remarked placidly. “What did you tell her?”
“That Nurse Bell—that’s the girl’s name—is to come to the store tomorrow morning and look around, meet everyone, see the flat and accept or refuse,” Simon said lightly, watching her.
“Send a car for her,” Laura directed. “When she arrives, take her around the store yourself. Let Mark take her up to the flat. After all, he was supposed to live there, so it’s really he who should do the honors, as it were. Bring her here for coffee afterward, Simon.”
Hilary had seldom been in the store, doing most of her scant shopping in one of the chain stores in town where, she reasoned, prices would be more within her limited scope.
Now, escorted by Simon on the one hand and the debonair, handsome manager on the other, she walked from department to department, liking all she saw. She would not have admitted as much to anyone, but only the knowledge that Mark Dawson was the brother of Nurse Dawson prevented her from being openly in awe of him.
Mark was not in the least aware of this. This nurse, he reflected, seemed to be making no special effort to please him or to attract his attention. She walked between Simon and himself, accepting all the information Simon proffered, nodding now and then as something met with her approval. Yet not once, as he had half expected, did she flash a provocative glance in his d
irection or make any glowing if insincere comment when Simon said that this or that was his manager’s idea.
As they approached the first-aid center she followed Simon into the bright, cheerful room, walked calmly around, inspecting all the simple but excellent appointments and returned to where the two men stood beside the door.
“It’s marvelous,” she enthused, her eyes shining. “I will feel like a queen in here on my own. Almost like having my own ward, except—” her eyes danced “—I don’t suppose I shall have many patients.”
“I hope this first-aid center will service all personnel in Vale’s, nurse,” Simon said quietly. “Not just the staff of the store, but the other people who work here, you know. Van drivers, messengers and delivery boys; cooks and what-have-you in the restaurant... all sorts of people whose welfare really ought to come under your care! I’m thinking in particular of what Mark said about last year’s flu epidemic. Someone here to give the necessary shots might have saved us hundreds of manhours. One never knows quite when such a thing may strike again, and there’s always one or two people who require time of: when it isn’t really convenient, and I’m certain in some cases that a short rest, to help them mentally relax, to physically restore themselves, would be a blessing.”
“I know what you mean,” Hilary said with a nod. She could well imagine this kindly man having the welfare of his staff at heart just as Matron Rowland had that of her nurses, and with all her heart she hoped he was at least as well liked and as well respected as was Matron.
“If you’ll allow Mark to show you his flat,” Simon said, flashing a smile in Mark’s direction, “I’ll meet you again at the car. I want to pop into the main office for a moment—there are some notes Mrs. Vale asked me to leave with Miss Rowley. Will you excuse me?”
In silence Mark conducted her to the elevator and to the small flat at the top of the store. He hadn’t been there more than twice himself during the two years he had been at Vale’s, but the place was always cleaned, aired and maintained—that was one of the inflexible rules of the store.
Hilary looked around in equal silence, but although she did not say anything beyond thanking him for showing her around, he knew she was delighted. There was the now familiar sparkle in her eyes and the pleased little smile about her lips, a smile that deepened as she watched him lock the door of the flat. A tiny dimple showed at the corners of her mouth as she thanked him gravely.
CHAPTER THREE
Jane Rowland was anxious to hear Hilary’s report that evening. She had known Simon Vale for a long time, as he was one of the members of the hospital’s Board of Directors. In the early days of St. David’s, his grandparents had been active participants in the founding of the hospital, and until the day of his death old Mr. Vale had maintained a lively interest in everything connected with the establishment.
The artificial lung, the kidney machine, the new X-ray room had all been largely financed by Vale money, Jane reflected. St. David’s had a great deal for which to thank the Vale family.
She didn’t know Mark Dawson, but she did know his sister and both liked and admired the girl who was Senior Nurse of her Intensive Care Unit.
If this brother is anything like Monica, he’s about right for Hilary Bell... and she’s one of the best nurses I’ve ever had here, which is saying a great deal. I don’t want to lose her, but perhaps I won’t...
Nothing in Jane’s expression revealed what she had been thinking as she motioned to Hilary to take the chair opposite to her own.
With Matron’s encouragement, Hilary launched into a full report on her day’s activities. Her enthusiasm was obvious as she talked about the store itself and the well-equipped medical center. Finally, she reassured Matron of the suitability of the flat at the top of the store. Jane Rowland could not help noticing that the girl was starting to look much more like her old self, and the worried expression had disappeared from her pretty face.
“That sounds very satisfactory, nurse.” Jane shuffled her papers together and Hilary knew the interview was at an end. As she rose from the hard chair and moved toward the door, Jane spoke again.
“Perhaps you will call in at St. David’s from time to time, nurse,” she suggested. “I’d like to keep in touch until you are back among us once again!”
Hilary thanked her and left the office, almost bumping into Monica Dawson as she hurried along the corridor.
“Matron’s pleased, I think,” Nurse Dawson began. “How did you like everything ... and everyone, Hilary?” she queried as they walked along the corridor together.
“Very much,” Hilary said honestly. Thinking back she knew she had liked what she had seen of Vale’s, and she had certainly liked on sight almost everyone she had met on her tour of the store. “Almost everyone” did not include Aida Everett, who had looked down at her from her unusual height and surveyed her with those sleepy, heavily lidded eyes that, Hilary would have sworn, missed no detail regarding anyone who entered the store.
“I don’t know why Mr. Vale thought we needed a nurse on the staff,” she had said shortly after being introduced. “We’ve never needed anyone to give medical attention to the best of my knowledge. Still”—the narrow shoulders lifted in a shrugging gesture—”I suppose it’s the latest fad or something...”
“I don’t’ know...” Hilary began, but Simon Vale swept her along ahead of him, and whatever she had been about to say was forgotten.
“Everyone was friendly, I hope?” Monica pressed.
“More or less.” Hillary did not want Monica to think she was already finding fault with those people with whom she’d be working. “I suppose it will take a little time to get to know them all. After all, I’ve been at St. David’s ever since I first came here as a student nurse! I’d never thought of any change like this one...” She was suddenly wistful.
“It’s only a temporary change,” Monica consoled. She didn’t want Hilary regretting. “Look here, I’ve some time off due to me and I’m going home. How about coming to mother’s for supper on Sunday night? We’ll take you back to your flat whenever you like, and at least it’ll break the edge of going there alone the first night you leave St. David’s. What about it? I’ll help you take your things over and get settled in. I love to poke about new places.”
“All right, if you’re sure you like that sort of thing!” Hilary capitulated. “I’m not very good at arranging furniture.”
“We’ll try together, then,” Monica suggested. “And now, I must go. See you later!”
It was a strange feeling for Hilary to pack up all her precious possessions, leaving her residence room stark and bare as it had been when she had first been given the key.
This room, she thought, looking around at the familiar walls, the mirror, the single wardrobe and the small shelf where her personal bits and pieces had stood for such a long time, knew more of her hopes and fears, her joys and her sorrows than any other room in the world. She loved this room ... and no matter how much she grew to love the little flat in Vale’s store she was certain, as she lay in bed on Saturday night, that it would never, as this room had done, grow to feel anything at all like home.
On Sunday morning, the porter arrived to let her know that the taxi was waiting to take her trunk and cases to the flat. Monica had given her a key the previous evening.
“Mark asked me to give you this,” she had said, and as the taxi drove away from the hospital, Hilary tried to pretend it was the key to the home of her dreams!
The cab drove to the rear of the store and as they climbed out, the driver pressed a bell at the side of the huge double gates where the trucks and vans belonging to Vale’s and their suppliers drove in and out throughout the week. An old man emerged from the caretaker’s room, peering with faded blue eyes into the taxi; but his smile was warm and friendly and he greeted the driver like an old friend.
“ ‘Mornin’, Andrew,” he began conversationally. “Is this the young lady Mr. Dawson was telling me about? The nurse who’s going to
live in our flat?”
Before Andrew could nod an agreement, the old man had come forward.
“ ‘Mornin’, nurse,” he began respectfully. “I’m Sam Bowing. I’m the watchman here. Me an’ my dog’ll see no harm comes to you while you’re staying under Vale’s roof, won’t we, Jake?”
Jake, padding forward and sniffing suspiciously, proved to be the first genuine Airedale terrier Hilary had ever seen, but she did not need Sam’s definition of the breed to recognize it.
“My grandfather’s favorite type of dog,” she enthused, holding out her hand for Jake to sniff at and to decide she was friendly.
“They’re good dogs,” Sam sniffed as noisily as his dog. “Out o’ fashion now, I understand, but there’s none to beat ‘em when it comes to guarding a place.”
Jake, it appeared, was quite prepared to accept her, and after a moment or so of hesitation, she tentatively patted the brown and black head, and was immediately rewarded by an agitated wagging of the stumpy tail.
“He’ll know you always now, nurse,” Sam informed her. “Give his life for you if need be now, that dog would. Come on,” he urged abruptly. “Andrew’ll help me carry this lot to the elevator. Miss. Dawson, she’s been waitin’ near half an hour now.”
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