“Wait, David! I’m sure that Coralee…”
“Let him go, darling,” Coralee snapped, her face tight with fury as she turned to David, then melting to tenderness as she looked back down at her husband.
“This is the first chance we’ve had to be alone since you scared me to death yesterday,” she said softly, then laid her lips on his with a great show of fervor. David escaped hurriedly from the room.
* * * *
Janet found herself infinitely bored as Arnold Crane propelled her around on the dance floor. He may have been a pretty good dancer before his illness—at least he talked about the latest steps with assurance and enthusiasm. But he was still taking it easy because of his operation, so they waltzed to everything.
She would have been bored with him anyway, no matter how well he danced. He was young and callow, with little to talk about except his long stay in the hospital. She had listened to that all through dinner, through most of a dull movie, and was completely fed up by now.
“Let’s call it an evening,” she said when they went back to their table. “You mustn’t the yourself so soon after your operations.”
“I’m not tired—this is fun!” he assured her. Then he added wistfully, “But I guess I shouldn’t dance too much. We could drive around a while.”
“No, take me back to the hospital. This has been enough for one night.”
“There’ll be other nights, won’t there?” he asked confidently.
“We’ll see. I don’t have many free nights, you know.”
Maybe it would be best to tell him she never meant to go out with him again. If he persisted in asking for future dates she’d have to make it plain. But she hated to hurt his feelings unnecessarily.
He grinned and stood up. “Don’t you go giving me the runaround, baby!”
Making his way among the tables to the exit, he let her follow. From the first he’d shown bad manners, but she attributed it to his youth and poor training, feeling all the more compassionate. He wasn’t going to be able to hold any girl’s interest for very long.
She followed him across the parking lot, and got into her side of the Cadillac he’d said belonged to his father. He was already at the wheel by the time she took her seat.
“I’ll sure be glad when I get my own bus, instead of driving this old klunk,” he griped, his voice taking on some of the whine it had shown constantly while he was sick.
“I wouldn’t call this a klunk,” she said, judging that it wasn’t more than two or three years old.
“Oh, it’s loaded with power,” he conceded. “But I want one of these keen little sports cars—a Jag, or a Porsche. I’d even settle for one of the new M.G.s. Dad says I could’ve had one for what my three operations cost.”
So we’re back to that subject again, she thought as he drove out of the parking lot saying he guessed it was better to spend a fortune on operations than not to be alive; and it’s a good thing that new doc came along to find out what was really the matter with him…
She settled wearily in the seat and closed her mind to his chatter; closed her eyes, too, thinking this was more comfortable than she’d be in one of the sports cars he wanted.
The comfortable seat, and the utter boredom of his monologue almost put her to sleep. She opened her eyes suddenly with the feeling that something was wrong.
“Where are we?” she asked, staring at the moonlit countryside. “This isn’t the way to the hospital!”
“Well, cripes, I don’t see why you wanta go straight home! It’s still early.”
“No it isn’t! It’s after midnight and my late leave is up at one. Turn around right now and take me back to the hospital!”
“Don’t be like that,” he whined. “The way you talked sounded like you wouldn’t be able to go out again very soon so…”
“I’ll never go out with you again if you don’t take me home right now!” she said furiously.
“Maybe you didn’t intend to anyway. You’re not as friendly as I hoped you’d be.”
He braked the car and made a sharp turn through an entrance flanked by stone pillars. She recognized the place as Rocky Dell Park, where there were tables and barbecue pits for picnics under huge old gnarled oak trees draped with climbing vines. She had been there with a group of student nurses one Sunday, and had nearly worn out a pair of shoes following the winding rocky bed of a stream, dry at the time, but which was said to be flooded during torrential rains.
It was dry now, too, she could see as Arnold parked beneath the spreading limbs of an oak tree. The dry stream bed loomed up in front of the car, and even after he’d turned off the headlights, the rocks gleamed white in the bright moonlight. They ranged in size from huge boulders to small pebbles.
“If you don’t start home right now,” she said through clenched teeth, “I’m going to get out and walk!”
His answer was to thrust his arms clumsily around her and jerk her close.
“You don’t think I’m gonna take you home without a goodnight kiss, do you?” he mumbled as his mouth avidly sought hers, his weight pushing her off balance.
She tried to shove him away, but he was suddenly all arms and legs, pressing her back with more strength than she would have believed possible this soon after a severe illness.
“Cut out the stalling, Jannie,” he panted. “You nurses weren’t born yesterday—you know the score. You must’ve known I wanted to make up for that puny little kiss at the hospital.”
The remembered humiliation gave her strength to push free and get the door open. She was no sooner out of the car than he was out after her, grabbing her again, his weight thrusting her down to the ground.
She dug her nails into his cheek until he bleated and let go. She scrambled away, but he lunged after her, shouting hoarsely in rage and frustration.
When he threw her down this time, her hand closed on one of the rocks of the river bed. Finding it loose, she swung it in an arc that landed a glancing blow against his head.
That stopped him for a moment. He stood over her, slowly shaking his head against the moon-bright sky. He called her unspeakable names. When he started kicking at her, she rolled over and got to her feet.
For a blessed instant she thought she was free, but she stumbled and had to catch her balance. By then he was after her again, grabbing her about the waist, flinging her backwards.
There seemed to be nothing behind her. When his arms let go she was still falling, down into endless space. The stars and moon were lighting the dark sky above her until, in one tremendous crash, they were shattered to bits, and the world seemed to come to an end.
The stars and moon were still bright when she opened her eyes, she had no idea how much later. Her head was down in the dry creek bed; her body seemed to be somewhere above it. Gradually she managed to pull herself together and sit up.
She ached all over, but the greatest ache of all was in her head, which felt several times its normal size. She got groggily to her feet and stumbled over to the road. The car was gone, and so was Arnold.
Good riddance, she mumbled, holding her head between her hands to keep it in place as she walked back to the highway.
She never knew who picked her up and brought her to the hospital. The car stopped when she stood in front of the headlights and flagged it down. There was a man and woman, she remembered. She had vague recollections of trying to explain what had happened, and of their sympathetic advice, telling her she should notify the police. But she never really saw their faces.
The next she knew she was standing under the window of the room she shared with Fern. It was after one o’clock, so the door of the Nurses’ Home was locked. She dare not ring the bell and face the housemother. Mrs. Carson would take one look at her disheveled appearance and demand to know exactly what had happened. Then she’d lose no time reporting it to various authorities and making
the whole thing as public as possible. It would be just too humiliating.
She picked up a few pebbles from the graveled driveway and tossed them at the window beside Fern’s bed, glad that the moon still gave her some light.
After a third pebble struck the window a lamp was switched on and Fern’s head appeared.
“Open the door!” Janet called softly. “I’m locked out.”
She waited at the door until Fern had it open and guided her in with a pencil-flashlight.
“What on earth happened?” she whispered as they made their way to the alcove where the register book was kept open on a small desk.
“I’ll tell you in our room,” Janet answered, picking up the pen and finding her name where she had signed out at six o’clock. How long ago that seemed!”
She had just written, “1 a.m.” when the alcove was flooded with light. She whirled about to find Mrs. Carson in the archway, her bony frame swathed in a purple chenille bathrobe, her square face stern with condemnation.
“That’s a lie!” she declared, pointing to Janet’s entry. “It’s after three! I noticed you hadn’t signed in when I locked the door, so I couldn’t go to sleep. Now, just what kind of a cock-and-bull story are you going to tell me to explain this?”
Janet drew herself up with all the dignity she could muster. “If you’ve already made up your mind it will be a cock-and-bull story, there’s no use in my saying a word.”
“All right, then. Report to the superintendent’s office first thing in the morning for disciplinary action.”
“I’ll do that,” Janet said, adding to herself that she’d a damn sight rather explain to Mrs. Burns than to this boor of a housemother who was such a close friend of Dizzy Andrews.
Linking her arm in Fern’s, she crowded past Mrs. Carson to get out of the alcove and head for their room.
Chapter 14
David hesitated just before he reached the superintendent’s office. Mildred had sent word she’d like to see him some time this morning, but the woman who had turned in just ahead of him looked like the old battle-ax who had it in for Janet. He didn’t particularly want to meet up with her in Mildred’s office, so he walked on past, deciding to look in on a couple of his patients first, then come back.
He had a pretty good idea of what Mildred wanted. Even though she and Graham were no longer married, she was deeply concerned about his heart attack, and probably wanted David’s personal report on Graham’s condition.
Fifteen minutes later he was again heading for Mildred’s office. This time, just before he arrived at the door, Janet came rushing out.
She didn’t see him. She looked as though she had been crying and would burst into tears again the moment she had privacy. Her cheeks were crimson, her eyes glazed, her pretty lips crushed to a tight line as she brushed unseeingly past him to dash on down the hall.
David had an impulse to follow and try to comfort her, but he stifled it and went on into the office. Maybe he’d better find out what it was all about first.
Mildred’s secretary glanced up and smiled. “Mrs. Burns is expecting you, Dr. Sterling. Go right in.”
Mildred was leaning back in her swivel chair, her eyes thoughtful and perturbed as she gently tapped a pencil on her desk.
“So the top sergeant’s making trouble for Janet again,” he said, drawing up a chair to sit across the desk from her.
“What do you know about it?” Mildred asked, looking surprised. “Did Janet tell you?”
“No, but I saw her dash out of here blind with tears about fifteen minutes after Miss Dictator stalked in.” He gave the room a quick glance. “She isn’t still around here somewhere, is she?”
“No. Daisy just dropped in long enough to add her two cents worth.” She leaned forward, studying him quizzically. “David, just how interested are you in Janet Raleigh?”
He grinned. “That’s something I’ve been asking myself lately. She’s a nice kid. If I wanted to get serious about a girl, she’d be a good choice.”
Mildred made a face. “That’s putting it cautiously, so I guess you’re not in love. I knew you’d been going out with her. But then, I’ve also heard rumors that you and Cora-lee…” She spoke the name as if it numbed her tongue.
“Good Lord! There’s no place as hot for gossip as a hospital!” he exclaimed. “Has this got anything to do with what Janet’s upset about?”
“No, I guess not. How is Graham, David? I can’t bring myself to question Cyril about him. I’ve an idea you can tell me more anyway.”
“He went home Wednesday—you knew that, didn’t you?”
“Yes. That’s why it’s so hard to get any information. I kept track while he was in the hospital. I understand you did some diodrast studies Tuesday, but I’ve heard nothing about a report on your findings.”
He shrugged. “The results were disappointing. That is, the tumor I still suspect didn’t show up definitely. I think we should open his heart, and I’ve advised it. That’s all I can do. If he doesn’t want to submit to surgery, it’s up to him.”
“What will happen if you’re right, David?”
“The tumor may grow until it causes real damage. If he waits until another attack, it could be too late.”
“Have you told Cyril and Matthews?”
“Yes, but they’re not sure they agree. And of course, I could be wrong. So, don’t worry, Mildred. Graham’s back to work, part time, but he promised that if the slightest symptoms return he’ll let us know. Now, what kind of trouble is Janet in?”
“I’m not sure I should tell you, David. It’s all very humiliating to her, and she’s frantic in her anxiety to avoid publicity. Yet I still think I should have insisted on calling the police.”
“The police! Is the kid really in serious trouble?”
Mildred sighed and leaned back in her chair. “She went out with a former patient who displayed such vile temperament while in the hospital that I can’t imagine what possessed her to make a date with him.”
“The Crane boy!” David exclaimed. He’d wondered several times whether or not Janet had made a definite date with the boy, and kept it. He’d been on the verge, several times, of getting in touch with her to advise her against it. But he’d reminded himself each time it was none of his business—unless, of course, he wanted to make a permanent claim on her time.
“What happened?” he asked sharply. “Don’t tell me that tin-horn sport attacked her!”
“He certainly tried to. Drove out to Rocky Dell and threw himself all over her. In the process of getting away she seems to have been dumped backwards into the dry creek bed. She had a lump the size of an egg on the back of her head where it hit a rock. She was unconscious for a few minutes, and he drove off and left her there!”
“Good Lord! She could’ve died! Has she had the injury examined?”
“No, she says she’s had worse bumps than that which never amounted to anything. She admitted a dull headache this morning, though, and I tried to get her to consult Graham, if he’s able to see her. I also advised her to report Arnold Crane to the police. I think I almost had her persuaded on both counts; and then Daisy Andrews had to come barging in and spoil everything.”
“How did she figure in the deal?”
“Oh, she took it upon herself to convince me that the whole thing was Janet’s fault. She referred to the day Janet had to give the boy a bed bath while he was desperately sick.”
“I remember that day—it was the first time I ever saw Janet, and I felt like wringing Miss Andrews’ neck when she bawled the kid out in front of a couple of chiefs as well as all the rest of us.”
“That wasn’t the worst,” Mildred said, her mouth tensing a little. “The next day Andrews really landed on the girl when she learned that Arnold had somehow managed a kiss while Janet was trying to lift him onto the clean sheets. The obnoxious kid tattle
d to the next nurse who bathed him, making it sound as if Janet had deliberately held him in her arms and kissed him. Janet swears that wasn’t the case, but Andrews chose to believe the boy, and she claims that intimacy gave the boy the idea of taking her out and attacking her.”
“Hogwash! If she kissed him at all it was in pure compassion, and probably under duress. I hope you didn’t let Andrews bulldoze you.”
“No, but she scared Janet into a shell, so frightened of a lot of humiliating publicity she won’t see a doctor or report to the police. She threatened to leave the hospital if anything further is done about the incident. She has the makings of a good nurse. I’d hate to lose her.”
“You could lose her in a more tragic way if she doesn’t see a neurologist. Is she on duty now? I’m going to have a look at that head injury whether she likes it or not.”
He found her in the treatment room on Second Annex. Walking in quietly, he came up behind her as she stood lifting instruments out of the hot sterilizer with a pair of forceps. He had his fingers under the copper curls and was gently touching the back of her head before she knew he was there.
“David!” she cried, swinging away from him. Then, as a sterile speculum dropped from the forceps and clattered to the floor, “Damn it! See what you made me do!”
“I’m sorry.” He picked the speculum up, found it too hot to handle, and juggled it over to the sink. “You can toss it in with the next batch. After you’ve gone with me to consult Dr. Burns. That lump on your head could be serious.”
“Don’t be silly!” she scoffed. “It’s practically gone now—and so’s my headache. Haven’t you ever bumped your head without dire results?”
“Not hard enough to be unconscious for… You probably don’t even know how long you were out.”
Suddenly her face flamed. “Who told you about it? How much do you know?”
“Enough to figure I’m partly to blame. I should never have let you make a date with that punk in the first place.”
“How could you stop me? It wasn’t any of your business! And nobody had any business telling you about it, either! Who was it? Mrs. Burns?”
The Nurse Novel Page 39