Half an hour later, having watched a pre-operative drug given, Andrea walked alongside the stretcher on wheels bearing the patient to the operating theatre.
She glanced at the man lying on the gently moving stretcher, now drowsy as a result of his injection. How smoothly everything seemed to run in this great hospital. She was proud, nervous, and apprehensive all at once. Proud to be one of this team of miracle workers, a little nervous in case she should do anything stupid and so incur the wrath of the Theatre Sister, and apprehensive of meeting Martin Graham again. Last night after leaving him, and during this morning, she had tried not to remember how he had drawn her roughly towards him and kissed her so violently. Would he remember when he saw her or had he already dismissed both herself and the incident from his mind? In any case, she comforted herself, he probably won’t even notice me, or if he does, by the time I’ve got my mask on he won’t even recognise me.
The porter wheeled the stretcher into the anaesthetic room which adjoined the theatre and with an inward thrill, Andrea followed.
She pointed to a tall, green door, dramatically closed to intruders.
“Is the operating theatre through there?”
Jones nodded. “Yes. They’re just finishing a double hernia from ‘Harvey.’ He’ll be out in a couple of minutes. I’d get a gown and mask on if I were you, Nurse. Here you are.”
He reached down a white cotton gown from a peg and handed her a linen bag containing gauze masks.
Andrea put on the shapeless gown, struggling a little with the tapes at the back.
“Do I need to put the mask on now, too?”
“You’d be wise to, Nurse. Once that door is opened there’s no time for anything, and if you dare set foot inside there without one on, Sister Fisher will play merry hell.”
“Oh dear.”
Hurriedly, Andrea fixed the gauze over her nose and mouth and tied the tapes behind her head. She felt like a young actress on her first night, dressing to play her part in a great drama and as yet unsure of her lines. Beside an empty trolly, Jones stood with arms nonchalantly folded and the air of one who knew all about it, having played his part a hundred times before.
The patient drowsily opened his eyes, then closed them again.
Then suddenly the door of the theatre was thrust open and Andrea felt the full force of the drama born upon her.
Through the door, in a swirl of steam and bustle, swept Sister Fisher, her mask hanging loosely about her neck.
“Now, Jones, forward with the stretcher—quickly, man!”
Her glance brushed over Andrea as Jones, jerked into action, pushed an empty stretcher into the theatre.
‘‘You’re new, aren’t you?” she demanded of Andrea. “What’s your name and who else from the ward is coming down?”
Stammering a little, Andrea answered both questions, her voice sounding strangely muffled from behind her mask.
“H’m. Well keep out of everybody’s way and on no account touch the sheet or go near the surgeon’s trolly. Careful, Nurse——” to someone inside the theatre— “that isn’t a sack of potatoes you’re handling. Come, Nurse Foster, the warm blanket, where is it? Quickly, quickly, before the patient catches pneumonia. Now Jones, look what you’re doing. Nurse Wood, is the anaesthetic trolly ready for the next case?”
Against a background of pale green walls Andrea caught a glimpse of white clad figures darting quickly to and fro; of the huge shadowless lamp, now directed upon an empty operating table; heard the noise and clatter of instruments and the banging of sterilizer lids as the scene was prepared for the next act.
Then the doors closed again as Jones wheeled the patient out in the corridor and back to a waiting bed.
For a moment Andrea was alone save for her drowsy patient waiting to be given his anaesthetic.
He opened his eyes. “Is it my turn next, Nurse?” he asked sleepily.
Andrea smiled reassuringly. “Yes. How are you feeling ?”
“All right. Just sleepy. This appendix has given me a lot of trouble on and off for years. I shall be glad to get rid of it.”
“I’m sure you will.”
Then she started as the theatre door opened and Sister Fisher came in again.
“Nurse,” she snapped. “Don’t talk to the patient. He should be encouraged to sleep.”
“But—he was just asking me——” Andrea began to protest.
She was cut short by a cold, haughty look.
“Don’t argue with me, Nurse.”
She took a swift look at the man on the stretcher and felt his pulse.
“All right, Nurse Wood,” she called out. “Bring in the anaesthetic trolly.”
The glass trolly was wheeled in and behind Nurse Wood’s white-clad figure walked Martin Graham himself.
He was in his shirt sleeves, which were short, and clumped along in white rubber boots wearing a heavy rubber apron. Andrea’s heart beat nervously. Would he recognize her?
He gave her a sharp look. “Hm. Nurse Grey, isn’t it?” His eyes darted from her to the man on the stretcher, then back again to Andrea.
“Well?” he demanded. “How’s the patient, Nurse? What’s his pulse rate, eh?”
“I — I don’t know,” Andrea stammered, taken aback by the unexpectedness of the questioning. “Sister Hawthorne——”
“Don’t know?” he cut in. “Why not. You’re his nurse. No use waiting for Sister to come and tell you.”
Julia Fisher, who had been standing by wearing a thin, supercilious smile, said smoothly:
“His pulse is quite steady and normal, Mr. Graham.”
He made a silencing gesture. “I’m asking Nurse Grey. It’s her business to know the condition of her patient— whether he’s in a fit state for his operation or not. Well?” he demanded afresh.
Stung into alertness by his manner, Andrea said with sudden inspiration: “He’s quite calm and ready, doctor. He — his appendix has been troubling him for some years and he’ll be only too glad to get rid of it.”
The dark brows shot up. “Hm. He will, will he?” A slight smile of approval played on his lips. “That right, Brown?” he asked the patient who had just opened his eyes.
Brown nodded sleepily.
“Good enough,” said Martin. “We’ll soon have it out. Right, George,” he said to a fair-haired young doctor who had just appeared. “He’s ready for his spinal.”
He clumped out again.
Julia Fisher turned a cold eye on Andrea. “Nurse, I should have thought you had been told by now. Never address Mr. Graham as ‘doctor.’ Either Mr. Graham or ‘Sir.’ To do otherwise is against the rule of the hospital and the height of bad manners.”
Andrea reddened and was about to make a reply, but having delivered her reprimand, Julia Fisher had turned on her heel and was already giving out fresh orders in the theatre. Sister Hawthorne came along presently.
The rest of the morning stood out in Andrea’s memory for the rest of her nursing career and for long after that. This was a new experience for her and she was entirely fascinated. For two and a half hours she watched Martin operate and was amazed at his skill. She watched entranced as without the slightest hesitation and with a sureness of touch he made his clear-cut incision; noticed his dexterous handling of delicate instruments, the steadiness of his hands, the rapidity with which he worked and gave his orders, and saw the intense concentration in his cool grey eyes. All held her enthralled.
Between operations he found time to have a personal word with every patient endowing each one with confidence. Once when Andrea herself was beginning to feel both the mental and physical strain he said:
“Get nurse a stool, someone. She can’t stand the whole morning — before we know where we are she’ll be passing out on us — big strain the first time.”
Andrea was grateful for the high stool which was brought for her, but wondered apprehensively whether he noticed a glance exchanged between two of the nurses. Those grey eyes missed nothing of what we
nt on around him.
“No wonder the nurses almost worship him,” Andrea said to herself as the last patient before lunch was being wheeled out of the anaesthetic room. Sister went back to the ward, and Andrea was about to follow Jones through the door to take the patient back to his bed when to her surprise, Martin Graham called her back.
“Nurse Grey, I want to speak to you. Nurse Wood will take the patient back to the ward.”
He closed both doors and they were alone in the anaesthetic room.
Her heart began to beat painfully as she saw his heavy expression.
He looked at her in silence for a moment.
“Well, Nurse,” he said at last in a cold voice. “You’ve lost no time in spreading the story that I brought you home last night. In fact, it is the general belief that I actually took you out for the evening. What have you to say to that?”
Andrea’s cheeks colored. “You surely don’t think that I’m responsible for spreading that ridiculous rumor?”
He folded his arms and inclined his head in cool speculation.
“You obviously know of its existence. If you were as innocent as you would have me believe you’d be unaware that there was such a rumor.”
“I tried to deny it, but no one would believe me!” Andrea said hotly.
“A likely tale,” he said scathingly. “I know you nurses. You seem to think that the be-all and the end-all, the Alpha and the Omega of your career is to be——”
A grey fury welled up inside her. She knew what he was going to say.
“How dare you,” she breathed slowly. “How dare you.”
“Oh, come now,” he mocked. “No airs, please. Don’t try to make me believe that the affair not only leaked out of its own accord, but that you even took the trouble to deny it. I just won’t believe it.”
“I really don’t care what you believe!” she declared angrily, and wrenched open the door and made her escape.
Chapter Four
FOR the remainder of that day, Andrea strove to fight down her agitation. She walked away from the theatre almost in a state of fury. How dared he assume that she had spread that ridiculous rumor merely on the strength of being given a lift. That he should think she had actually boasted about the incident made her seethe. The admiration she had felt for him in the theatre was swept away by the turbulence of her anger. “The be-all and end-all; the Alpha and the Omega” indeed! The idea was preposterous! Such vanity was not to be borne.
It was perhaps fortunate that she was off duty during that afternoon. At least, she had reached a degree of composure before going on duty for the evening. The work, combined with an hour’s interruption for a lecture, served to divert her thoughts somewhat, so that by bedtime her hot anger had cooled a little.
It was renewed in full force, however, the next morning when she was summoned to Matron's office to receive a reprimand for rudeness to the surgeon.
“After all, Nurse,” Matron said as she regarded Andrea across her desk, “Mr. Graham is our chief surgeon and is entitled to a high degree of respect—especially from our probationer nurses—irrespective of what their relationship off duty might be.”
Andrea started visibly. Her lips opened to make a protest, but Matron continued.
“You did not tell me, Nurse, that you were acquainted with Mr. Graham before you came here. I am presuming that such must be the case, as I am told you were out with him yesterday evening. It is hardly likely that you have become as friendly as that in your very brief stay here.”
Coloring, Andrea told Matron exactly what had occurred. She smiled. “Oh, I see. Well, now you will realize how easily those kind of rumors can begin. In a place like this where a large number of people live and work in such close contact, it is easy to cause a scandal. It was a rather unfortunate occurrence on your first evening off duty. Be careful not to let such a thing happen again.” She paused, her hands clasped before her on the desk. Then she went on: “I am fully aware that our doctors and nurses quite frequently fall genuinely in love, being human, and while I make every allowance in those cases, I have to deal very severely with flirting. Too much of that would very soon get the hospital a bad name, quite apart from the effect on the work. However, you don’t look the flirtatious type, and I am quite sure that this silly rumor will very soon be forgotten. Regarding the matter of your rudeness to Mr. Graham, there is no need for you to apologize to him on this occasion, but don’t let me hear of such a thing again.”
The serene grey eyes rested kindly on Andrea for a moment, then she said briskly, “That will be all, Nurse.”
In all justice, Andrea knew that Matron had been most kind and understanding, but the knowledge that Martin Graham had actually reported her renewed her dislike of him.
“Really, Virginia,” she exploded as the two girls sat on her bed that evening after duty. “What a despicable thing to do, reporting me to Matron! After all, he began the argument.”
Virginia laughed, though not unsympathetically.
“My dear child, you don’t argue with a man like our Martin! In any case, how do you know that it was he who reported you?”
Andrea looked at her in surprise. “Who else could it have been? There was no one else there.”
“It may have been Sister Fisher.”
“If that is so, then he must have told her about the incident himself. It would be just like him, he’s so full of his own importance.”
Virginia smiled tolerantly. “Well, he is rather important,” she pointed out.
“In his own particular sphere perhaps, yes, but that doesn’t give him the right to be so abominably conceited in other matters. He evidently imagines that all the nurses are falling over themselves to be dated by him if he thinks that one of us will stoop to inventing a thing like that.”
Virginia eyed her quizzically. “You are in a state about him aren’t you?”
Andrea plumped up a pillow for her back. “Well, I’m certainly not lining up in the queue to be asked out.”
Virginia threw back her head and laughed.
Andrea looked at her in mild surprise. “I mean that, Virginia. He has obviously taken so many of the nurses out at one time and another that it was taken for granted I had been out with him too.”
“My dear girl,” said Virginia, still laughing, “wherever did you get the idea—that he had taken so many of the nurses out?”
“Well, hasn’t he? That’s the impression I’ve been given.”
“No. It’s just wishful thinking on their part—and they are falling over themselves to be dated by him. But Martin has never been known to date a nurse yet.”
“He hasn’t?”
“No, he has not. They’d be only too flattered if he did. The very fact that his position makes him rather unapproachable adds to his attraction. Besides that, he’s young, good looking and he can be very charming on occasions.”
Andrea suddenly remembered how he had ordered a stool to be brought for her, and how wonderful he had been to the patients.
“He may be all you say he is,” she conceded, “but quite apart from that, it infuriates me to see the way everyone kow-tows to him.”
“Well, you can hardly blame him for that, can you?”
“But he allows it.”
“My dear, he probably isn’t even aware of it.” She looked thoughtfully at her friend. “You seem rather prejudiced against our Martin if you don’t mind my saying so.”
Andrea reddened. “Oh, let’s talk about something else, Virginia.”
Virginia gave her a sidelong glance. She liked this somewhat quick-tempered girl. She admired the untiring way in which she gave herself to her patients; nothing was too much trouble for her. Her sympathy was warm and ready, even with the difficult ones, revealing a particularly loving and generous nature. There must be some reason for her prejudice against Martin Graham.
“All right,” she said good humoredly. “Tell me about this friend of yours — the one whose car broke down when this other ‘odious’
person gave you a lift.”
Andrea longed to tell Virginia about the incident on the ward as well as the one in the car — her attitude toward the surgeon would not then seem so unreasonable — but a strange reticence prevented her.
“Oh, Godfrey is all right,” she answered lamely.
Virginia’s eyes widened. “Only ‘all right’?”
“Well, he’s rather a dear, really.”
“You’re not engaged then?”
“Oh no——”
“Nor in love?”
“I hardly know.”
“Well, my dear, if you don’t know, the answer is definitely in the negative surely?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that, Virginia. I do love Godfrey in a way, and I know he loves me. He has asked me to marry him, but——”
“But you didn’t want to commit yourself, eh?”
“That sounds a little heartless. It’s not that, Virginia. Somehow I wanted to begin my nursing career free, if you know what I mean. If I’d embarked on my training already engaged, it would have made my nursing seem such a transient thing — something to be got over as quickly as possible so that I could be married. Whereas I want to really give myself to it for a few years. It hardly seemed fair either to Godfrey or the job to become engaged.”
“And he’s going to wait for you?”
“He said so, yes.”
“He must be very much in love with you, Andrea,” the other said soberly.
Andrea was silent for a moment, then she said quickly.
“Tell me something about yourself, Virginia.”
“Me? Oh, I’ve not much to tell. I’ve lived a very sheltered life. This is my first job. We are a large family, or were, when we were all at home. I have four brothers and three younger sisters. My brothers are all older than I. I studied music for some years — I wanted to become a professional pianist. So instead of having help in the house and my taking a job, I stayed home to help mother and studied music at the same time. Then, one by one my brothers married and so——”
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