Outpost Hospital

Home > Other > Outpost Hospital > Page 9
Outpost Hospital Page 9

by Sheila Ridley


  At her words Katherine’s spirits sank to rock bottom again. So that was that. Elizabeth Frayne would go back to England as soon as she could, Mark would join her, and they would be married. It was what Katherine had expected. She had known that it was the only possible outcome. Elizabeth Frayne wanted Mark back and, since the only reason that he had come to Africa was because he had lost her, he would have no reason for staying.

  Putting her hand up to her throat Katherine again touched the turquoise necklace. Suddenly she wished she had not put it on. She did not want Mark to see her wearing it. Seeing that the other girl’s attention was elsewhere, she quickly undid the catch and slipped the necklace into the pocket of her dress.

  Andrew came in with Mark. “I’m afraid you’ll have to be hostess tonight, Kathie,” he said. “Mary has a headache and is staying in her room.”

  Katherine said she was sorry and that she would take Miss Kennedy some supper on a tray, but Andrew shook his head. “Er ... no. She may be sleeping. I’ll look in later and see if there’s anything I can do for her.”

  After the meal Katherine told the houseboy to put the coffee tray on a small table near the window, and the four of them left the table. The window was opened wide, for the heat was oppressive. Andrew offered cigarettes. The two girls accepted but Mark took out his pipe.

  “You must show me over your hospital tomorrow, Mark,” said Elizabeth.

  He nodded. “It’s small, of course, and we need to extend it a good deal before we can cope efficiently, but I think we have done some useful work despite the drawbacks and the money shortage.”

  “I just can’t believe you can run any sort of hospital without electricity. Surely it’s the first essential.”

  Mark smiled patiently. “It’s surprising how few things really are essential. If a thing isn’t there and there’s no way of getting it, then you have to find a way of doing without it.”

  “What about staff?” was the next question. “Nurse—er—Barlow, is it? She isn’t your only assistant is she?”

  “No. Besides Nurse Marlowe,” Mark stressed the name and Elizabeth Frayne threw an apologetic smile in Katherine’s direction, “we have half a dozen useful nurses.”

  “Natives, I suppose you mean?”

  “I mean Africans,” Mark reproved gently.

  As the two doctors talked, Katherine and Andrew sat a little apart. Katherine replenished the cups when necessary and removed the tray when it was finished with. Sitting in the shadow as she was, she could watch the other two. With the light of the oil-lamp full upon her, Elizabeth Frayne looked more vividly beautiful than ever. Its glow burnished her hair to golden bronze and accented the smooth perfection of her exquisitely formed face and neck.

  She was lovely, Katherine had to admit, and yet she noticed that, as Mark talked his eyes were not for Elizabeth Frayne alone. Occasionally he would glance out of the window, as though part of his mind were still on the hospital. She saw too, with a pang, that in his thick black hair were a few silver ones that had not been there when he left England. The lines had deepened too about his startlingly blue eyes. How handsome he looked in the white dinner jacket and black tie he had put on in honor of the visitor! The work and responsibility of the past months had left their mark on him but Katherine was sure that he would not leave it without some regret.

  It was a great pity Elizabeth Frayne had come. All their hopes and plans for improving the hospital and the villages in the area might now come to nothing.

  Mark pushed his pipe into his pocket and stood up, stretching his back. “I’m going over to have a look around the wards to see that everything’s all right. Coming Elizabeth?”

  “Isn’t it rather late, darling? And I’m hardly dressed for work.”

  “You can borrow Nurse Marlowe’s white coat,” he replied brusquely, and pulled her to her feet.

  “Brute!” she pouted.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  When the two doctors had gone Katherine and Andrew sat in silence for a few moments and then Andrew took Katherine’s hand. “I’m glad we have a little time alone, Kathie,” he said quietly. “I wanted to talk to you earlier, but just as I was getting into my stride we were interrupted. Now I’ll have to start all over again. Shall I play? Music seems to help me to think of the right words or reminds me of somebody else’s I can borrow.”

  Katherine smiled. “I don’t think you need any help. You’re doing pretty well so far without music.”

  “Very well. We’ll dispense with the music. But I don’t flatter myself I could improve on the words. ‘So sweet art thou, my bonny lass, so deep in love am I, and I will love thee still, my dear, ’til a’ the seas gang dry.’ ” His voice was low and unsteady with feeling as he spoke the words, adding, “I have little to offer you, Kathie, but a loving heart. Perhaps I’ve no right to ask it, but, will you have me?”

  The simple phrase touched Katherine’s heart and, covering his hand with her own, she said huskily, “Yes, Andrew. I’ll have you.”

  “My dear girl.” He stood up and drew her into his arms. As he held her, his cheek against her hair, she vowed to make him happy if it were in her power to do so. She raised her head to look into his kind face and he laid his lips upon hers tenderly, almost reverently. “Sweet Kathie. Bless you,” he whispered.

  Some moments later, he said, “Shall we tell the others tonight or wait until tomorrow?”

  “We’ll leave it till tomorrow, I think. It might be very late when they come back. Once Dr. Charlton gets inside the hospital he forgets about time. That is, he used to. Of course it will be different now.”

  “How d’you mean, my dear?”

  “Well, things won’t be the same now that Dr. Frayne is here,” Katherine said unhappily.

  Andrew sat down again and drew Katherine into the chair beside him, his arm around her waist. She rested her head on his shoulder. “You know, I’m a bit puzzled by the sudden arrival of the lady,” he said thoughtfully. “It seems a long journey just to look up a friend, or is there more to it than that?”

  “Well, it was common knowledge at the General that Dr. Charlton wanted to marry Dr. Frayne but that she refused in order to concentrate on her career. Goodness knows how these things get around.” Katherine was proud of the way she gave this information. She sounded quite detached really.

  “Poor old Charlton,” Andrew sympathized. “That must have been an awful blow. I can imagine how I’d have felt if you’d turned me down for your career.” Lightly he kissed her hair. “Is that why he came out here, do you think?”

  “Yes, I do think it had a lot to do with it,” she replied. “Well, it looks rather as though the lady might have changed her mind. Perhaps we won’t be the only engaged couple in Ngombe soon.”

  “Perhaps not,” she said, stifling her distaste for the idea. “You said things won’t be the same now. Do you suppose there will be any great changes here?”

  “I’m afraid I do. Dr. Frayne won’t stay here and I don’t believe Dr. Charlton will now.”

  “Oh, he won’t leave,” Andrew said with conviction. He knows how the people depend on him. You remember how he spoke when you wanted to go home to be with your father? He said you shouldn’t put personal feelings before your obligation to those who depend on you. He wouldn’t say that and then do the very thing he denounced, would he?”

  “I don’t know. People sometimes expect more of others than they do of themselves. And Dr. Frayne is very beautiful.” Katherine sighed and then looked at Andrew. “Suppose I asked you to give up your work when we are married, would you do it?”

  He laughed. “No, Kathie. That’s not a fair question. You wouldn’t ask me to choose between yourself and my work.”

  “But if I did?” she persisted. “I know I’m not beautiful like Elizabeth Frayne but—”

  “Who says you’re not beautiful?” Andrew demanded indignantly. “But that’s not the point. If you were the kind of girl who would ask a chap to make a choice like that I wouldn’
t love you as much as I do, and if I didn’t love you so much, there would be no problem. You see?”

  “Yes, dear Andrew, I see. But it isn’t you that has to choose. It’s Dr. Charlton.”

  “Aye, but from what I know of him I’d say he will do the right thing.”

  “I wish I could be sure of that,” sighed Katherine, and then, fearing that she might have given away the real reason for her concern, she said quickly, “It’s getting late, Andrew, and I have some letters to finish.” She smiled fondly at him. “I’ve some special news now.”

  “I must write to your father, too. Or shall I wait until he’s a little better before I introduce myself?”

  “No need to wait, dear. He’ll be so pleased, it will help him to get well. Did I tell you I had a letter from Mrs. Davis, our vicar’s wife? As soon as Dad can leave hospital she is going to take him to her house for a few weeks’ convalescence.”

  “That’s grand. You’ve no need to worry about him now, then.” He rubbed his hands in his shaggy hair. “You know, it won’t be easy from this distance to convince him that I’m a worthy suitor, but at least it will show him I’ve got good manners.”

  “And that you can write,” added Katherine solemnly.

  Andrew drew himself up indignantly. “You’re an impertinent lassie and—”

  “And you’re a stern, strict Scot,” she put in with an attempt to imitate his accent. “Now I must, go or I won’t get those letters finished before I go to bed.”

  They walked hand in hand to her door. Andrew opened it and turned to kiss her. “Don’t sit up too long, my dear,” he said tenderly.

  In her room Katherine closed the door and leaned against it. What a day it had been! First, without warning, Elizabeth Frayne had stepped gracefully back into Mark’s life, and now she had decided the course her own life was to take by accepting Andrew’s proposal.

  She put her hand into her pocket and took out the turquoise necklace. How pretty it was! But she would never wear it again. She held it against her cheek for a second before firmly putting it back into its box.

  Next she opened her writing-case and took out the photograph, the one that showed a group of nurses and doctors at a staff dance and included Mark Charlton and Elizabeth Frayne. How many times on the journey and since arriving here had she looked at this picture? How many dreams had she woven around it? Well, that was all over now. She put the photograph into the box with the necklace and replaced the lid. Now the small red box held all she had of the man she had loved so hopelessly for so long.

  She pushed the box to the back of the drawer under some handkerchiefs and shut the drawer with a decisive bang.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Next morning Katherine was in the clinic room setting a dressing tray. The clinic room was next to Mark’s office, and as both doors were open, she could hear voices in the office quite clearly—Mark’s and Elizabeth Frayne’s. She picked up the tray. She would have to pass the office door to reach the ward. She hoped she would not bump into either of them as she walked quickly to the ward. As she reached it she heard the office door close behind her.

  In the office Elizabeth Frayne was saying, “I thought I would see what the hospital really looked like in daylight but, if possible, it looks worse now than it did last night.”

  “I know the hospital leaves a lot to be desired,” said Mark, “but I told you that we have to go slowly because there just isn’t the money to do everything at once.”

  “Slowly is right.” Elizabeth Frayne’s usually melodious voice was sharp. “You’ve been here nearly a year working like a slave—”

  “I didn’t say I was working like a slave,” interrupted Mark.

  “You didn’t have to. I’m a doctor, too, remember. One only needs to look at you to see you’ve been doing far too much. You’re thinner for one thing.”

  “Maybe I am a bit tired,” he conceded with a poor grace, “but it’s not important. What matters is the hundreds of people who depend on me and the nurses for relief from pain; perhaps for their very lives.”

  That he felt very deeply about this subject was very clear, and for the first time his companion began to wonder if she was not in danger of losing this battle. This sense of personal responsibility Mark had acquired was going to be harder to fight, Elizabeth Frayne thought, than another woman could ever be. If, for instance, he had fallen for that pale-faced mouse of a nurse, she would not have had a moment’s anxiety; but love for suffering humanity—that was a formidable opponent.

  Mark had been leaning against the table. Now, he came up to Elizabeth, took hold of her shoulders in a firm grip and looked into her eyes. “Stay here and work with me, Elizabeth,” he pleaded.

  “Mark darling, you’re asking too much. How could I perform delicate eye operations in conditions like these?”

  “You could do it if you wanted to,” he said, disappointed. Dropping his hands from her shoulders, he strode across the room to stand behind the table, leaning forward on his hands.

  “Doesn’t the very fact that these poor devils have to put up with such conditions, that they do put up with them cheerfully and are so damn grateful for the little we can do for them, doesn’t all this make you want to help to improve things?”

  Elizabeth Frayne looked away from the intensity of his blue eyes. “I’m afraid it doesn’t, Mark. I’m not unfeeling. I’m as sorry for these people as you are but it’s too big a problem for one or two people to tackle. There are organizations with the money and the doctors to do the thing properly. Leave it to them.”

  “And in the meantime men, women and children are suffering and dying. It might be years before proper hospitals are built in this area; the villages are tiny and scattered. Besides, these people would be intimidated by a big shiny clinic. It took us all our time to get them to sleep in beds instead of on the floor. You can’t rush them from a mud hut to a tile and chromium hospital in one move.”

  “As I’ve said, I’m sorry about it, but I don’t see that there’s anything I can do.”

  “A week or two ago I operated for cataract,” said Mark quietly. “I’d never done it before and I was terrified, but the poor chap came to me with such faith that I’d make him see again that I had to do my best. Well, it was a success; but now that the news has got around I’m being besieged by dozens of similar cases. I’m not really competent to deal with them, but you are.” He paused, but she did not reply. “Well, Elizabeth, do you still say it can’t be done?”

  “I’m sorry Mark, I just couldn’t cope. You seem to have the pioneering spirit that makes you glory in fighting overwhelming odds, but I haven’t. I’m used to having the best and most modern equipment to work with, and assistants thoroughly trained in the work. I wouldn’t be able to adapt myself to anything less.”

  “I see,” said Mark dejectedly. “Well, if that’s the way you feel there doesn’t seem to be anything left to say.”

  “But there is, Mark.” She went and stood very close to him. “There’s still a lot to say. You love me and I love you. I always did, but I thought marriage would interfere with my career, so I went away. But I couldn’t forget you. I wrote to a friend at Grinsley and when she told me you’d gone away I was terribly unhappy. I thought I might never see you again. Then I saw that piece in the paper and, as soon as I could, I came to you. I thought you’d be eager for us to take up our lives where we left off.” As she spoke she looked up into his unyielding face, but he refused to meet her eyes. She went on: “Now you say you’re staying here. You’ve given a number of reasons why you mean to stay but are you sure you’re not doing it to punish me because I hurt you?”

  “My reasons for not leaving are exactly those I’ve given you. I’m sorry you find my motives hard to believe in, but I don’t blame you. I’ve changed quite a bit since I left England. Now my work here is more important than anything else.”

  “More important than me, you mean? Mark darling, look at me.” She turned his head toward her with her slender white h
ands. “Really look at me, or are you afraid to?” At last he looked directly at her.

  “Now listen to me,” she said firmly. “This place is becoming an obsession with you. It won’t do anyone any good if you go on like this, wearing yourself out. Relax, darling.” She stroked his hair and brow and slowly she brought his head down until his lips were on hers. The warm vitality of her body against his, the silky softness of her hair, the passionate response to his touch, brought back feeling he had almost forgotten; reawakened emotions that had seemed to be dead but had only been sleeping. Almost as though he were dazed he lifted his head and looked at her. Her wide green eyes were dark, her cheeks a little flushed under the golden tan, her bright hair hanging loose and slightly disordered. “You’re very beautiful, Elizabeth,” he murmured almost against his will. With a little smile of triumph she drew his head down again. “That’s better, darling, much better,” she whispered, rubbing her smooth cheek against his. “We’ve been apart so long, Mark. Too long. Don’t keep us apart any longer. We belong together.” Her low voice was urgent. “You know that, don’t you, Mark?” As his hold slackened, her arms tightened about him. “Say you know it.” He took her arms and held her away from him. His face was troubled.

  “I must think, Elizabeth. A few minutes ago I was certain what I had to do and I was content, but now ... I don’t know. I must think.” He let go of her and turned away, putting his hands over his face. She went to stand in front of him. “Don’t think too much, darling,” she said softly, taking his hands and putting them around her waist. “Don’t think. Feelings are the best guide.”

 

‹ Prev