Peter Raynal, Surgeon

by Marjorie Moore

  “I see.” The glint of anger in Kay’s eyes very nearly matched his own, her whole nature revolted at such callousness. So that was the sort of woman he had married, Kay decided, perhaps his friendly attitude with the nurses could be more readily understood. He certainly didn’t act like a married man ... and almost unconsciously her eyes studied the silent figure seated before her. Looking at him now, appreciating his consideration, yet almost studied reserve of the evening, it was difficult to reconcile herself to the picture of him at hospital—so domineering and so ready to accept the open adulation which his position evoked—Kay’s thoughts came to an abrupt halt, as she twisted her head in listening attitude and placed a finger to her lips, to ensure her companion’s silence. “I thought I heard Christine ... I wonder ... do you think she has wakened?”

  In a second Raynal was at the door. “I’ll tiptoe along to her door and listen...”

  As Kay followed him, it was obvious that she had not been deceived, from behind the closed door of Christine’s room came the muffled sound of crying. “I’ll go to her, sir.” Kay didn’t realize that unconsciously she had adopted the authoritative air she always used in hospital, the tone which invariably irritated Peter Raynal and which not infrequently was a cause of the strained atmosphere between them. Without awaiting a reply and shutting the door firmly between them, she entered Christine’s room.

  Curiously enough her autocratic attitude passed unnoticed, no doubt he was used to it. Turning obediently from the door, he re-entered the sitting-room and dropping back in his armchair, commenced to fill his pipe with studied care. What an enigma the girl was, he pondered as he pressed the tobacco firmly into the bowl, anyway she’d been a brick to volunteer to accompany him and he knew only too well what an effort it must have been after a heavy day on the wards. She’d been invaluable too, he didn’t know what he would have done without her and perhaps most valuable of all, had been the ready way she had gained Christine’s confidence. A frown furrowed his brow. Poor child, she was a puzzle, so clinging and affectionate and yet devoid entirely of that carefree happiness of children. She’d got even thinner, he reflected gloomily, looked even more frail than the day he had left her, a pathetic little figure, in her ill-fitting school uniform, waving him “good-bye” at the school gates. At Kay’s re-entry, Raynal stood up and glanced at her questioningly.

  “Poor scrap, she woke up and was frightened to call you, she thought you might be asleep. You need not bother to run me back to hospital. I’m stopping here tonight, that child isn’t fit to be left.”

  “But, Sister, you can’t do both night and day duty, Matron would be horrified. No, I insist on you getting back and having some sleep; after all, I am here.”

  “And what good would you be at nursing a sick child?” As Kay spoke, she was removing her hat and placing it tidily beside her coat, which lay already folded on a chair. “I want to make the child a hot drink, so just show me the kitchen, then get off to bed.”

  “I can’t let you...” Raynal began tentatively, but even as he spoke, he realized that he was no longer in control. Sister Somers had taken matters firmly into her own hands and any authority he might have over her in hospital, wasn’t going to stand him in much stead now. With a shrug of resignation, he led the way from the room. “That’s the kitchen ... I don’t know what you’ll find there...”

  “I’ll find all I want.” Kay was already rolling back her sleeves above the elbow, exposing the smooth skin of her slender arms. “I’ll find myself a cup of tea too ... that is, if you don’t mind, I prefer it to whisky.”

  “Then why in hell didn’t you say so?” Despite his previous amusement, Sister Somers as usual was beginning to irritate him. “Of course, you can have tea, take what you want.” With a supreme effort he thrust back his momentary finger. “I’ll nave a cup too, if I may?”

  “Well, go back to the sitting-room, get out of my way and I’ll bring you one.”

  It didn’t seem much use arguing, so turning to the door Raynal returned to the comparative peace of his study. My heavens, what a girl! he breathed silently as he puffed deeply at his pipe, and he fervently hoped that the man she was going to marry had a will of his own.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Judging by the light already filtering through his bedroom window, it must have been morning when Peter Raynal was awakened by a tap on his door. Springing from his bed, he flung on a dressing-gown and hastened to open the door.

  “I’m awfully sorry to disturb you, but I’d like another injection for Christine, she is complaining of so much pain.”

  Kay looked so tidy and unruffled that, as Peter Raynal followed her to Christine’s side, he was uncomfortably conscious of his own tumbled appearance. Extraordinary girl, he thought to himself, she looks as fresh and spruce as on the ward, and certainly not as if she had spent a disturbed night.

  The few moments he spent at Christine’s bedside only served to surprise him again, with the amazing manner in which Kay had so quickly won the child’s confidence. The injection given, he lingered awhile to see it take effect, before turning away.

  “I’ll go and dress now. My man arrives at eight, we breakfast at eight-thirty.” Then Raynal tried to instil into his tone the authoritative manner he used in hospital. “Now go and get half-an-hour’s rest before you begin another day.”

  “Thank you, I prefer to remain as long as I can.” Kay laid her hand gently on Christine’s wrist and even in her semiconscious state, the child seemed aware of the touch and twisted her hand to grip Kay’s fingers within her own.

  “She has taken a great fancy to you.” There was ill-concealed admiration in Raynal’s voice. “You must have a way with children.”

  “I love them.” Kay responded simply. She paused for a moment, then spoke with some diffidence. “I should really leave pretty soon, I ought to be on duty by eight ... of course Staff Nurse could take over for an hour or so ... I wonder ... could you phone and explain to Matron? Perhaps she’d allow me to stay and accompany the ambulance ... I mean, I think she would do anything if you asked...” Her words implied the fact that every one of the nursing staff, even as far up the scale as Matron, would always put themselves out to please the adored Senior Surgeon. Somewhat embarrassed by the fact that she had to ask Raynal a favor, Kay, in an effort to justify herself, added hastily: “After all it’s not for my personal benefit, and I’m sure she’ll consent to anything if she knows it’s for your daughter.”

  “But it’s not!” There was a disarming smile curving the corners of Peter Raynal’s mouth, and seeing it, Kay retorted angrily before he had a chance to continue:

  “Then let me assure you that I am not trying to delay my return to duty for the doubtful pleasure of breakfasting I with you!”

  “My dear Sister, I didn’t think that you were.” The familiar note of anger was creeping into his voice, but with an obvious effort he controlled his annoyance. “I sincerely appreciate all you have done, but not for one moment have I mistaken your motive; your care for Christine has been purely professional and admirably rendered, I can’t thank you enough. You entirely misunderstood me, you didn’t allow me to finish my sentence.” He paused, then continued. “I shall certainly ring Matron and explain the position; I haven’t the slightest doubt she will consent to your remaining to accompany Christine—but I cannot say Christine is my daughter, because she isn’t.”

  “Oh ... I see ... I’m sorry ... I naturally thought...” Kay turned away to hide her embarrassment and tucking Christine’s hands under the coverlet, she crossed to the window, pulling the curtains back to let in the fresh morning air. Sine was sincerely grateful when she heard Raynal leave the room. What a fool she’d been, she chided herself, she always seemed to be starting rows but how on earth could she have guessed what he’d meant? If Christine wasn’t his child, then whose daughter was she? Kay turned the problem over in her mind. Possibly a step-child, perhaps he’d married a widow, anyway Kay had never seen such devotion as the child se
emed to bear for him and there wasn’t much doubt that he, in return, adored Christine. Kay sighed. She couldn’t solve the problem anyway, she decided, she was too sleepy to solve anything and what she longed for more than anything was a refreshing bath and a strong cup of coffee.

  By the time an elderly butler tapped at her door, to announce that breakfast was served, Kay had at least achieved her first desire and she hoped sincerely that the coffee too, would soon be in evidence. She was not to be disappointed, she realized, as the pleasant aroma of freshly-made coffee assailed her nostrils when she entered the dining-room.

  Peter Raynal stood up at her entry and pulled forward a chair. “I have spoken to Matron, everything is arranged, I’ve ordered the ambulance for nine, so you can travel back to hospital with Chris.”

  “Thank you.” Kay drank some coffee with relish and was surprised with what appetite she was able to tackle the steaming plate of scrambled eggs, which was set in front of her. What a joy after the unappetizing hospital breakfasts with their inevitable sturdy porridge, usually followed by some quite uneatable form of fish. It was lovely to get away from Institution food, and soon she would be away from it forever; the very thought was consoling.

  “I’ve also made an appointment with Henry Mall, he will see Chris this morning—you’ll get an X-ray of course, as soon as you can. He’ll probably do the plaster under a general anaesthetic.”

  “Yes, sir.” Kay buttered a piece of crisp toast and spread it liberally with marmalade. “I will be ready for Mr. Mall.”

  Peter Raynal pushed back his chair and pulled a cigarette case out of his pocket; he hesitated for a moment wondering whether he should offer one to his companion, but quickly decided against it. No, Sister Somers was not the type to smoke in uniform, however informal the occasion, he decided as he lighted his cigarette. He smoked for a few moments in silence, then, having considered the matter, he spoke. “You know, Sister, that was a natural mistake of yours, I mean thinking I was Christine’s father. I wish I were, I might have had more say in her upbringing then.” He flicked the ash from his cigarette and continued speaking. “Chris has always been delicate and—yes, I suppose I might say difficult. No one ever seemed to understand the child. Boarding school too, seems the wrong environment for her and I am shocked at her appearance, she looks more frail than ever and all her letters from school have been utterly miserable. This is her first term, but I don’t believe a lifetime of school would ever make her fit in.”

  “I shouldn’t think boarding school was at all suitable.” Kay folded her serviette and pushed back her chair. The scent of Raynal’s cigarette made her long for one, it would be the fitting end to such a delightful breakfast, but she would not smoke on principle. “You know I feel Christine should have a country life, just run wild for a time and build up her body, surely her education could be dealt with later?”

  “That’s exactly how I feel. I think I shall be forced to put my foot down ... anyway Chris won’t be fit for school for months, that leg is going to pull her down pretty badly. I’m inclined to try a governess, find someone myself, then pack them both off to the country for a year or so.”

  It sounded to Kay as if Mrs. Raynal was going to be dealt with pretty firmly, and about time too, Kay considered. It was pretty shameful that the step-father showed more concern than the child’s own mother. Kay wondered what sort of woman she was, glamorous and smart no doubt, but obviously not much interested in her daughter. Kay rose to her feet. “I ought to be getting Christine ready, the ambulance should be here soon.”

  “Right, I’ll come and have a peep at her, do you think she is still asleep?” Stubbing out the end of his cigarette, Raynal followed Kay from the room.

  Christine was still sleeping when they approached her bed. Her golden hair fell loosely on the pillow framing the pale oval of her face. “She is beautiful.” Kay could not restrain her admiration. “It’s the loveliest face, but oh, how I’d like to see some roses in those cheeks!”

  “I’ll see the child has a chance to get some too.” Raynal spoke with deep feeling, then added: “Her mother is lovely, with the .same transparent coloring...” He smiled, as he faced Kay. “With perhaps, just a little artificial aid.” He paused for a moment then continued. “Chris hasn’t really had much chance. She was the only child of doting parents, then her father was killed at Alamein, that seemed to change everything. After losing her husband, Christine’s mother lost all interest in the child, in fact the child’s presence seemed to play on her nerves—perhaps she brought back too many memories. Anyway Christine was left entirely to the care of servants, then packed off to school. I suppose one can imagine the effect that would have on a sensitive child—to have been brought up without proper home life or affection.” Peter Raynal walked over to the window, his hands thrust in his pockets, a frown of irritation creasing his forehead. Without turning back to Kay, he continual speaking. “I’ve done all I could, it hasn’t been easy, I haven’t wanted to be too interfering, but from now on, as I’ve told you, I am determined to take a firm stand.” Suddenly he swung round and faced Kay. “Chris was bitterly unhappy at school, she’d never mixed with other children, never even been to a day-school ... this accident ... was it entirely an accident or am I just imagining things?”

  For a moment Kay was uncertain as to his meaning, then, as it dawned on her, a look of horror crossed her face. “You don’t mean the child tried to injure herself?”

  “I’m not a child psychologist but such things have been known.” He crossed the room until he stood at his companion’s side and when he spoke again, it was with an obvious effort. “Mrs. Raynal is perhaps more to be pitied than to be blamed, she would have been a good mother to Chris had my brother lived.”

  “Your brother?” Kay queried wonderingly.

  “I thought I’d told you Chris was my brother’s child.” Raynal laid his hand for a moment on the sleeping child’s forehead, unaware of the surprise his statement had caused Kay.

  “Then you aren’t married...?” Kay asked in astonishment.

  At the unexpected question, Peter Raynal straightened up from his stooping position and turned again to Kay. “No, of course not, why should you think so?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Kay turned away in confusion and busied herself straightening the already smooth bed covers.

  “I think I heard the bell ... probably the ambulance ... will you get Chris ready?” Raynal hurried from the room and Kay was grateful to be alone to collect her thoughts. What on earth had made her ask such a silly question? But then it had come as such a surprise, she’d taken it for granted that Christine’s mother must be Peter Raynal’s wife.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The nurses seated round the opened windows of the nurses’ sitting room turned to the door of one accord as a newcomer entered. Pamela Long was a pretty girl, and even the severity of her uniform could not detract from the appealing charm of her whole demeanor. By the manner of her greeting, it was obvious that she was as popular with the other nurses as she was attractive, and they hastily pulled up a seat for her to join the small circle.

  A short, dumpy girl with a freckled face and sandy hair, was the first to address her. “You’re late, Long, we’d finished our lunch before you even appeared...”

  “And what a lunch—ugh!” a slender, dark girl broke in. “Stewed steak on a boiling hot day.”

  “What do you expect, lobster mayonnaise?” one of her companions questioned laughingly. “This is St. Jude’s, not the Ritz!”

  “Oh, shut up!” the dark girl responded irritably. “Working in this heat is bad enough, without having to put up with your funny jokes.”

  The freckled girl who had first spoken again addressed Pamela. “Why were you so late? Did old Somers keep you? When I knocked off all seemed pretty quiet.”

  “Grig turned up to see Mrs. Peters and of course, I fell into it.” She paused, then asked: “Anyone got a cigarette?” Someone threw her a crumpled packet. “Here—comin
g over!” She waited until Pamela had caught it, then added: “I wanted to see you about the subscription you are getting up for Somers. I got another five bob this morning. Any idea what we can buy her?”

  “Goodness knows!” Pamela leaned back in her chair and drew nonchalantly at her cigarette. “I suppose we’ll get quite a bit of money, she’s been here a long time; we’ve collected about five quid already and I haven’t tackled the honorary staff yet.”

  “It shouldn’t be difficult to choose a present, after all she’s getting married, so I suppose anything for the home would be welcome.” The freckled nurse drew an apple from her pocket and polishing it on the corner of her apron, bit into it. “I for one, shan’t be sorry to see the back of her.”

  “Oh, she’s not so bad,” Pamela protested. “I’ve known worse.” She paused, then addressed the others generally. “I expect we’ll get a quid from Grig—then there is Mr. Mall, he ought to be good for a couple, and Raynal, well, I can’t see how he can give less than a fiver.”

  “What! Raynal?” The dark girl’s tone was incredulous. “Why, he hates her, they are at daggers drawn. If he hands over a fiver it will be because he’s damn glad she’s going.”

  “I don’t know so much.” Pamela spoke meditatively, and her forehead puckered into a frown. “I think that this last couple of weeks since his niece has been in the ward, the atmosphere has been less tense. Sister has been amazing with that kid, you know, and my heaven, it’s needed patience. I think he is probably appreciative. After all, she need not have kept Christine, it’s nearly a fortnight now—and there have been two chances of transferring her to ‘Children’s’—she isn’t really a ‘Surgical Two’ case at all.”