Nurse Errant

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Nurse Errant Page 10

by Lucilla Andrews


  I sat her in my kitchen chair, reached for my coat and nursing bag. ‘What’s wrong with Billy, dear? He been sick?’

  ‘He’s in Dad’s shed.’ She had been running so hard she could barely get the words out. Her face was drenched with sweat. ‘And Dad’s going to be ever so cross because Billy found his blowlamp and lit ‒’

  ‘Lindy! Stop a minute! Has he burnt himself?’

  She nodded violently. ‘His coat was all burning ‒’

  I did not wait for more. ‘Come with me!’ I raced out of the cottage, and as their house was only roughly forty yards from our front gate, did not waste time getting the car out of the garage.

  Lindy panted along beside me up their garden path to the small lean-to shed by the back door. To my overwhelming relief, a very cold, shamefaced, but apparently unharmed Billy opened the shed door to us and burst into tears.

  ‘Oh, Nurse, I’m ever so cold! I am so cold!’ he wailed pathetically. ‘And my school suit ‒ it’s in ever such a mess ‒’

  His voice vanished in sobs.

  A second glance showed me he was not just wet, he was soaking. The shed also was drenched with water.

  I knelt down, put my arms round him. ‘Don’t cry, darling. You’ll be dry soon. Where did you burn yourself? Show me?’

  ‘I didn’t burn meself, Nurse. I burnt me coat, and the shed was beginning to burn, but Lindy wetted us. She wetted me all over with the water from the water-butt ‒ and I’m so cold!’

  ‘Never mind, darling. Never mind.’ I slipped my coat over him. ‘Just let me have a quick look at you, and we’ll go in and get you warm.’

  Lindy stood by, her small face crumpling as I looked him over swiftly. ‘I didn’t mean to make such a mess, Nurse ‒ honest. But Billy looked all burning, so I threw lots of water over him. An’ the shed. Dad’ll be ever so cross.’

  ‘No, he won’t darling. I’m sure of it. You’ve been a very good, clever little girl. Now you must help me some more.’ I lifted Billy in my arms. ‘Is your back door open? The kitchen fire going? Got hot water? Fine. We’ll take him in, give him a hot bath, and get him into bed, then clean up this mess.’

  We dealt with Billy together. He was mercifully unhurt. When he was warm, clean, and in bed, we went down to wash his suit and underclothes. I let her help me. She was so overwrought, and the homely tasks calmed her.

  His coat was extensively singed. I held it out of the sink momentarily and shuddered at what might have happened but for his quick-witted sister.

  ‘Nurse.’ Lindy stopped mangling. ‘Nurse. Here’s Mum.’

  Mrs Yates’s eyes widened with anxiety when she passed her kitchen window and saw me at her sink. ‘Nurse, what’s wrong?’ She called urgently.

  ‘Nothing bad,’ I called back as Lindy opened the door. I took the baby from her mother’s arms. ‘I’ll hold Doreen ‒ you sit down, Mrs Yates. Billy’s not hurt, but he had a little accident. We’ve put him to bed. Your clever little Lindy has saved ‒’

  ‘Mum! Mum!’ Tommy Yates, aged four, romped in with his twin sister. They were agog with excitement. ‘Mum, there’s ever such a mess in Dad’s shed!’

  ‘I’ll explain about that,’ I said quickly, but before I could say one word we heard heavy footsteps on the path.

  Mr Yates was a crane-driver who worked for the local water-board. He was at present occupied in dredging one of the near dykes. He told us the postman in his afternoon delivery van had seen me running into his garden, reckoned there had been an accident, and stopped by to tell him at work.

  ‘The foreman said I could nip up on me bike. Now then, Nurse, what’s it all about?’

  I knew Mrs Yates and the children quite well, but had not yet met him. I had heard he was a dour, silent man, but from the children gained the impression that although he was a strict father, he was devoted to his wife and family. The concern beneath his grim expression bore this out.

  ‘That young Will, he’s a terror!’ he muttered when I finished. ‘Won’t let a thing alone, he won’t. And it’s not for want of telling, you take my word, Nurse. Seems you waste your breath with kids.’

  ‘I don’t think you can have wasted your breath, Mr Yates. Truthfully. I think you and Mrs Yates are doing a wonderful job of bringing up your children. I know Billy shouldn’t have touched the blowlamp, but small boys will experiment if they’ve any guts ‒ and he has. And when he ran into trouble Lindy reacted magnificently, and Billy must have kept his head, or he would have rushed out screaming into the garden and fanned the flame. Your children,’ I added sincerely, ‘couldn’t have behaved so sensibly in a crisis if you hadn’t taught them how. I really do congratulate you both.’

  His face relaxed a little. ‘Maybe you’re right, Nurse.’ He tweaked one of Lindy’s pig-tails. ‘So you acted sensible, did you, my girl?’

  She looked up at him. ‘I used your whitewash bucket, Dad. The one you said we mustn’t never touch.’

  ‘You did, eh.’ He lifted her on his knee and stroked her hair. ‘You’re a good ’un. We won’t fuss about that.’ He sighed. ‘Well, if that’s all there’s to it, I’ll have a look at young Will and get back to me work.’ He set Lindy on her feet, rubbed a finger against Doreen’s fat cheek. ‘Much obliged you came like you did, Nurse,’ he added gruffly, and stomped off.

  Mrs Yates insisted I stayed to tea before leaving. When I had to go back to get ready for my evening round Lindy said she would walk home with me. ‘I expect I had better help you put away those cups, Nurse.’

  ‘Cups? What cups, dear?’

  ‘The ones you left all over your kitchen table. Lots and lots of cups and plates and things all in rows. You were turning out your dresser.’

  ‘You bright child! So I was.’ I held out a hand. ‘I’d love some help. Let’s go, honey.’

  She did help me, most efficiently.

  ‘Like tidying cupboards?’ I asked, when we were done.

  She nodded very seriously. ‘When I grow up and get married I’m going to have lots and lots of cupboards with everything standing in rows.’ She looked the kitchen over with an experienced eye. ‘You’ll need a lot more cupboards when you get married, Nurse. Men need such a lot of room. ’Course, you have got a shed. Dad says every man needs a shed to keep his work table and tools in, proper.’

  ‘You’re obviously an expert, Lindy.’ I tidied my hair in the hall glass. ‘If I ever want advice on cupboards I’ll come to you.’

  She drifted into the hall and considered my reflection. ‘Why aren’t you married, Nurse? Mum says it can’t be because no one’s asked you as you’re quite pretty and ever so slim. Dad reckons it’s ’cause you been too busy to go looking round for a husband. I ’spect Dad’s right. He always is.’ She tilted her head. ‘Do you have to be so busy, Nurse? Couldn’t you start looking round? Wouldn’t you like lots and lots more cupboards?’ she added persuasively.

  The telephone bell prevented my answering. I smiled at her and picked up the receiver. ‘Nurse Sanders.’

  ‘The most inaccessible young woman on the marsh! Where the devil have you been all day?’ grumbled Paddy’s voice. ‘I’ve done nothing but ring, and answer came there none.’

  ‘Sorry. I’ve been busy.’

  ‘I’ll forgive you this once. How are you feeling after last night?’

  ‘Fine, thanks. And you?’

  ‘Getting along. See here ‒ what time are you likely to knock off this evening? And do you think you could tolerate my calling on you for a short spell? There’s the small matter of a proposed party I’d like to thrash out.’

  ‘Party?’ I echoed vaguely, looking at my watch.

  ‘Party, angel. Soft lights, sweet music, the lot. Maybe you’ve forgotten such trivialities, but surely even you must have been out on a party in your time?’

  ‘I believe so,’ I replied more sharply than I could have wished. ‘Look ‒ I’m not sure what time I’ll be back tonight, so why not explain now?’

  He laughed. ‘That’ll save you having
to tolerate my unfortunate presence. Why not, indeed. It’s this way ‒ I’ve been talking to Angela Gerrard.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘She’s decided to take a holiday, too. We think it’s time we got up a party. Angela’s a great girl for parties, as I hope you’ll discover. She’s going to rustle up old Dick, her brother. I’ve promised to bestir Michael and yourself. There’s a fine dance at the White Hart, Albion, a week tomorrow. That’ll be Thursday. Won’t you and Michael be free?’

  ‘Yes.’ I tried not to sound as unenthusiastic as I felt. ‘This is kind of you both, Paddy. Will Angela produce another girl?’

  ‘Haven’t you a very attractive blonde for a sister? Couldn’t you persuade her to come along?’

  That made me much more enthusiastic. Ann adored parties. It might make all the difference to her relationship with Mike. Like all young doctors, he had always been tremendous fun on a party.

  ‘I will, if I can. I’d love her to come along as a sixth.’

  He said smoothly, ‘Last time, as I recollect, she went by the name of third party. Have it your own way.’

  I nearly dropped the receiver. ‘How did you guess?’

  He said he would let me into a great secret. He could add two and two. ‘So that’s a date?’

  ‘Thank you very much.’ The rules of civilised behaviour made me add, ‘I’m looking forward to meeting Angela.’

  ‘And I’d like you to meet her. She’s a great girl, is Angela. Well now, I’ll leave you in peace. Take care of yourself, angel. We shall meet again, but don’t let the thought depress you overmuch.’

  Chapter Seven

  ANN TURNS PATIENT

  I called at the village hall to collect Ann before going back home that evening. It was crammed with fairy lights, crepe paper, trestle-tables, step-ladders, and helpers.

  Ann waved from the top of one ladder. ‘Finished, Lesley? I shall be a little longer, so don’t wait.’

  Mrs Carter joined me. ‘Your sister is going to be much in demand for this work in future, Nurse. She is clever with her hands.’

  I watched Ann rather anxiously as I thanked the vicar’s wife for her kind words. My sister had no head for heights, and she was doing a Gene Kelly-type dance on that top step. She would be fine, just so long as she forgot her complex. ‘You must have all worked hard, Mrs Carter. The place is transformed. I’d like to stay and join in, but must get back as I’m on call.’

  ‘I hope you don’t get called out, dear. You need an early night after last night. Gervase and I were so distressed when Paddy told us what happened. As Gervase said, it was a mercy he found you.’

  Mrs Grimmond came up. ‘My husband was once lost for fourteen hours. It seemed fourteen years to me.’

  Mrs Arbuthnot ducked under the half-decorated trellis above her Homegrown Produce stall, and launched into a grim tale of the doctors and nurses she had known lost in mists in the last thirty years. She did not exactly specify how they had perished, but she gave the impression that anyone practising medicine or nursing on the marsh must accept the inevitable end in a dyke. ‘Mr Larraby called it an occupational hazard. But as Mr Arbuthnot ‒ not a man to exaggerate, as I’m sure you’ll agree ‒ told him in the Crown before lunch, it is The Price That Must Be Paid.’

  Paddy seemed to have had a busy day. Driving home alone, I decided he had been very wise. Our story had to get around, so it was as well to give everyone the true version at first-hand. Everyone, of course, included Angela Gerrard. Paddy was wise all right.

  At home, I rang the local exchange before putting the car away. Our village was not yet on the dial system. The local telephonists were now my old pals.

  Mabel Withers said I had had no calls for the past three hours. ‘You can lock your garage, dear. You must have cured the lot.’

  I cooked supper, set two trays, then sat down in the sitting-room to bring my day-and time-books up-to-date while waiting for Ann. The telephone rang as I finished.

  ‘Nurse, do you think you could look in, please?’ Mrs Smith, the blacksmith’s wife, sounded distraught. ‘It’s my Vi. She looks so poorly and ought to be in bed, but she’s that set on going to the Youth Club as it’s extra Club night, and I can’t do nothing with her. But she always listens to you, so could you come?’

  I leant against the wall and rubbed my eyes ‒ I felt I could sleep on my feet. ‘Right, Mrs Smith. Tell me, first, in what sort of way does Vi look poorly?’

  ‘She’s coughing shocking, Nurse. And she won’t touch her tea.’

  The Smiths lived in a converted oast-house next to the forge at the other end of the village. I said I would be with them in a few minutes.

  I left a note for Ann on the telephone pad. As I passed the village hall, Mike’s car was outside. I wondered how he knew Ann was decorating and what excuse he had used to look in. It would be a good one. He had produced any number of splendid reasons for calling on us in the early evenings, or on Sundays, when Ann was likely to be home. During her working hours, when he wanted to contact me, he used the telephone.

  Violet Smith was seventeen. She had shoulder-length red hair, huge blue eyes, and a really beautiful face. She was easily the best-looking girl for miles, and, not surprisingly, very popular with the local young men. According to her mother, she was out with one or other every night of the week.

  Her parents were fairly elderly. She was their only child and they were devoted to her, but having only the memory of their own stricter youth to compare with hers, expected her to behave as they had forty years ago. Since she was determined, as well as staggeringly attractive, family explosions were common in their household.

  Vi looked close to another when I arrived. ‘Mum shouldn’t have fetched you, Nurse! Why does she always have to create and spoil things! It’s the mist makes me cough ‒ ain’t it, Dickie?’

  Dickie Hassell, her current young man, looked uncomfortable. ‘Don’t take on, Vi,’ he murmured pacifically.

  She refused to be pacified. ‘Parents! All they want to do is make a fuss and stop you having fun!’

  Dickie looked more uncomfortable than ever. He tucked his skid-lid under one arm and said he reckoned he’d be having a word with Mr Smith in the forge until the nurse was done.

  Mrs Smith smoothed her floral apron unhappily. ‘I don’t know what’s come over the young girls these days, Nurse. Always on the gadabout! Never an evening at home ‒ and it’s not as if we ain’t got the telly! When your Dad and me was courting, Vi, love, your Grandpa woudn’t let me out on any but a Saturday night.’

  ‘Oh, Mum!’ Vi tapped an irate foot. ‘We don’t want to go through all that again! I know you had to stay in ‒ but them days is gone, and good riddance! Why can’t you let me be? I thought you liked me to go to the Club ‒ and with Dickie!’ She turned to me furiously. ‘I’m sorry Mum fetched you out, Nurse. It’s not fair. I’m fine. It’s just she doesn’t want me to go out and have fun! That’s all!’ She tore out of the kitchen and upstairs to her room.

  Mrs Smith gazed at me in acute distress as the door above slammed. ‘I don’t know what’s come over her lately, Nurse. She never gave us no trouble when she was little. Now ‒ it’s like this all the time. I’m sorry if I’ve fetched you out for nothing. I thought she looked real poorly.’ She mopped the corners of her eyes with her apron. ‘I dunno what to do. I suppose I’ll just have to let her go.’

  ‘I’m not sure you should. She doesn’t look so well to me. I’ll go up to her in a minute, if I may?’

  ‘You can if you like, dear. She won’t even listen to you in this mood. You don’t know our Vi.’

  I did not care to contradict her about her own daughter, but I was not sure she was right. ‘She’s a sweet girl, Mrs Smith.’

  ‘You say that after the way she talked to me? And rushed off from you?’

  I nodded. ‘Vi’s very young and very very pretty. Everyone gets rebellious at her age. I know she lost her temper, but I’m sure she didn’t mean to be rude.’

  �
�But she’s always doing it, Nurse. And all this gadding about ‒ it’s not right.’

  I said slowly, ‘I think it far more right than her not wanting to gad about. That would be worrying.’

  ‘It would?’ she queried sharply.

  ‘With her lovely face? I should call it unnatural for her ‒ and all the lads of the village. I know you didn’t gad at her age’ ‒ I went on as I saw that had gone home ‒ ‘but wouldn’t you have loved to if you had been allowed?’

  She thought this over. ‘Perhaps I would, Nurse.’ Then she shook her head. ‘But not with all these lads like Vi. First it’s one, then it’s another. I don’t know when she’ll settle.’ She managed a tired smile. ‘One minute she seems real grown-up and acts like she can take care of herself ‒ next she’s acting up like a child.’

  I said, ‘I’ve yet to meet the mother of a teenage daughter who didn’t say that to me sooner or later. I’ve a notion our mothers said the same. Teenagers may seem only to have been invented lately. But they’ve been around for a long time. Vi’s being difficult is part of her growing up. She hasn’t done that yet, and until she does, do you really want her to settle?’

  She allowed there was that.

  ‘And wouldn’t you rather have her living at home and bringing in all these boys for you to keep an eye on? Not having any brothers, she’ll learn a lot about young men from them; that’ll help her later to choose the right sort of husband.’

  ‘Maybe, Nurse. But I can’t see her settling down to being a wife after all this ‒’

  ‘Mrs Smith, from what I’ve seen, most wives settle because they have to. I should say they do it more easily if they have had fun first and don’t keep thinking of the good time they’ve missed. Vi’s a good girl. I’m sure she’ll settle wonderfully, once she’s had her good time for a few years.’

  She looked at me in silence for some time. ‘I never thought of it like that, Nurse. Perhaps you’re right.’

  Upstairs Vi was sitting mutinously on the edge of her bed. ‘You can come in if you want to, Nurse.’

  It was not exactly a warm welcome, but it was something. I shut her door behind me. ‘Thanks, Vi.’

 

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