by Ramsay, Anna
She peered more closely. Wisdom had perfect milky skin, and her eyes were naturally dark-lashed, large and clear. If she took a bit of trouble with herself, ditched that unflattering hairdo and emphasised the wide-curved mouth with scarlet lipstick she might hook herself a wealthy husband. Well, why not? It could happen in private hospitals, grateful male patients falling in love with their nurses and offering to 'take you away from all this.'
Marriage had much to recommend it. Sarah stuck out her left hand, admiring the bright new gold band encircling her third finger. Her smile had the glow of deep satisfaction.
The door of Room 27 opened and closed and Kimberley trotted past with a cheery wave and a complicit wink at Kate. Her skirt was tight black leather and her patent court shoes had five-inch heels.
'Look at that! You'd better go and check Mr Galvan's blood pressure. How on earth does that girl keep her balance? Bet she's tiny without heels. Me, I can't wear any sort of heel after being in flatties all day. You should just hear my knees creak.'
'Everyone's knees creak - only idiots listen to them,' interrupted an unsympathetic doctor who had overheard this last complaint. 'Now what about this hysterectomy who's having trouble with her waterworks?'
'Ooh yes, my Italian lady, Mrs Graziella Carmichael. Half a mo and I'll find her notes. Here we are. Keeps moaning she can't go.'
'Is she drinking plenty?'
'What do you think, Doctor?' said the nurse cheekily, twisting a curl in front of her left ear.
'Right then, let's go and inform the lady that water always runs downhill.'
Kate found herself alone with a moment's peace. From the kitchen came the sound of Bridget, the auxiliary, singing Raglan Road as she washed the coffee cups. A bowed figure plodded past in slippers and dressing gown, the cord unfastened and dangling near the ground.
'Everything all right, Mr Rau?'
Mr Rau was a physicist from Southampton University. He'd been admitted for investigative surgery following digestive problems. Kate left her post in order to fasten the cord more securely about his lean middle. 'We don't want you tripping and hurting yourself,' she smiled, putting a hand lightly on his stooped woollen shoulder, sensing he was trying to avoid eye contact.
'Anything I can do for you?' she asked the worried man gently.
'I am just walking up and down the corridor, to stretch my legs.' His eyes were moist with fear.
Until the result of the biopsy was known there was little reassurance Kate could offer. She was just wondering if a chat in the quiet of his room would help, when the desk telephone shrilled. 'Would you go to early lunch, please. They're running late over in Theatres and Nurse Maychick's gall bladder won't be back before twelve-thirty.'
'Certainly, Sister,' and there goes my one-to-one with Mr Rau. Kate cupped her chin in her hand and thought for a moment… unless I can fit something in this afternoon. Tom's going to be raving mad over the Gertie thing. If I can stay out of his room for the rest of my shift, it'll give him time to calm down overnight. I'm going to have to think up some excuse for claiming to be a dragon called Gertie. Professor, you have nicely dropped me in it!
Kate knew it was unlikely she'd see James today: he tended to eat late, if at all. Especially if it meant interrupting his colo-rectal research project. If anyone could do with a dose of TLC it was Dr James Mallory. He worked so hard, ate irregularly … she must give him time to think of it for himself: that a wife and children were the next stop to happiness.
'Tender loving care,' she repeated with a wry smile. 'Just what did Professor Davy write on those case notes, I wonder? I'll just take a quick look …
And there it was, scribbled in pencil and just waiting to be rubbed out at the first opportunity. 'TLC—to be administered according to the wisdom of Kate.' Followed by a sentence that snatched at Kate's breath and caused her shoulders to heave in agitation as she slammed the notes back into their folder … Not likely! Not even if they fetch out the thumbscrews, not never, not no-how. No way!
Chapter Five
It was almost time to go off duty but Kate was reluctant to leave him. Something was worrying her …
She laid cool fingers on Mr Galvan's wrist.
'You've been avoiding me, Gertie,' he said with a sly upward glance.
The pulse was rapid. 'You've had one visitor after another so I've kept out of the way. All afternoon it's gone on. People coming in and out and you without a moment's rest.'
She released his wrist. Filled the numbers in on the charts, wrote up her observation. That unnatural glitter in his eyes, the raised pulse. Something was going on. She concealed her fears beneath a brisk tone. 'Just look at all this work your secretary's brought along. Why can't you relax with a book or watch television like the other patients. I don't believe you've even switched that set on.'
'Oh cut it out, Gertie,' he said mildly.
'The thing is, Mr Galvan - '
'You can call me Tom if you like,' he suggested kindly.
'They come in here with all manner of problems and expect you to sort things out from a hospital bed. Talking shop instead of giving you a mental break from surgery.'
'Perhaps I should discharge myself?' suggested her wily patient. 'I live way out in the wilds, you know. No one could bother me there and my housekeeper Bess can play watchdog.'
This was alarming. She'd better tone it down a bit … what if her nagging should drive Tom to discharge himself. She forced a smile and said lightly, 'Let's leave it to Professor Davy to decide when you're ready for discharge.
'And anyway,' she added, 'the plaster cast stays on till June. You couldn't manage without help, you know you couldn't.
'Keep you hair on Gertie,' he said mildly. He got to his feet and stretched to full height, trying to lift the damaged arm and test out its mobility. He winced.
So it does still hurt, noted Kate. Whatever he claims.
'I'm going to take a bath.'
'Wouldn't you prefer a shower?'
'No.' Galling to admit it, but Gertie was right. He couldn't manage without help, hampered and handicapped as he was, with stiffening muscles and weakened limbs. A soak in piping hot water would do his body good.
'A bath? Now? Just when I'm going off duty?'
'Fix that waterproof cover over my cast and I'll be fine. I can ring for the night staff to give me a hand if I need one.'
Kate reached up to take off his pyjama jacket. There was a heat coming off Tom's skin that worried her. She wondered about taking his temperature again, bit her lip but concealed her anxiety. She would stay on and see Tom safely bathed and back in his bed.
With one hand Tom undid his pyjama cord, let the trousers drop to the carpet and unconcernedly kicked them out of his path.
Kate picked them up, shook out the creases and laid them neatly across the bed. Clean on that morning, they'd do for another night. Tom was not to know it, but she'd been taking his laundry home and washing everything herself at night.
His pyjama labels read: 'MagnaVesta - clothes for men of heroic build.' She smiled a secret smile. Tom was heroically built all right. And didn't he know it!
She pushed into the small bathroom where he was fiddling with the taps. 'Don't you go falling over, Mr Galvan,' she scolded.
Tom grinned down at her. It suddenly occurred to him why the evenings dragged after Gertie went off-duty. It was like losing a good friend.
Anyway, he didn't intend to let her go just yet. Not before he'd heard satisfactory answers to his questions.
He waited, magnificently naked and not in the least embarrassed, while in the cramped bathroom his nurse ran his bath, tested the water with a careful hand, set soap and towels ready and prepared to help wash him as she did most mornings, a plastic apron protecting her white dress.
'I'll be glad when I can do all this for myself again.' That's a good one! thought Kate with a secret smile. You look about as dissatisfied as a sultan in a harem. She repressed a chuckle but it got the better of her and erupted as a s
nort of laughter.
This didn't go unnoticed. She's laughing at me, the minx! thought Tom. I've a good mind to tip her into the bath.
'Please try to keep still.' She slid a plastic sleeve over the cast on his right arm. 'There we are - that's your plaster covered. Now hold on to my shoulder and hop in. That's it. I'll do your back.'
Several moments later came a yelp from the bath. 'Give me the flannel - I'm not that helpless!' He sloshed water over his head while Kate reached for the shampoo. In spite of the fresh abdominal scar and the damaged left arm Tom looked as strong as an ox. And it made her heart skip a beat when he grinned up at her and said, 'We make a great team, Gertie—see, we've got our routine off to perfection, not a drop of water on my plaster today.'
Then without a moment's pause and in exactly the same affable tone came the dangerous question, the one she'd been hoping he'd quite forget to ask:
'So, Katie Wisdom. What's with this “Gertie” business?'
Kate rocked back on her heels. Her mouth opened and closed soundlessly. Their heads were on a level and she could see the laughter quite gone from eyes, replaced by a dark accusing glare.
'You look like a goldfish gasping for air.'
He reached out and dabbed shampoo foam on the tip of her nose. 'I'm told I should be grateful to you.'
Kate blinked but before she could think of a thing to say, Tom continued in a puzzled tone, 'The odd thing is, I didn't remember anything about the accident. But it's all coming back to me now. Yes …'
In silence Kate passed him a soft white bath towel.
'I was driving,' he continued slowly, 'something was wrong. My eyes started playing tricks. I kept seeing shadows flickering across my windscreen - no, not shadows, images of … siren women luring me to ….'
With an unused corner of the towel Tom rubbed gently at Kate's soapy nose, thinking to himself what a delicate structure of bone and gristle and what clear pale skin she had, unmarked by even a freckle. She blinked at his touch and he realised with misgiving that she was steeling herself not to flinch. She must have been afraid he was going to strike her! He, Tom Galvan, who put spiders in matchboxes and released them outside! He would never hit a woman in his life.
Pain twisted his gut. Was he then so terrifying? But his brain continued its relentless search to collect the pieces of the nightmare jigsaw and fit them into place.
Neither of them spoke again till Tom was back in pyjamas and tartan dressing gown. 'I'll have my supper over here,' he said, moving to the window and staring out into the dusky evening. He seemed to have forgotten she hadn't answered his questions, so wrapt was he in his own thoughts. Puzzled, Kate wondered what to do: whether to slip away with a quiet goodnight or get the confession over and done with. Frankly the latter choice seemed preferable.
Suddenly Tom swung round and caught her hesitating there, disposable apron in one hand, the other fiddling uncertainly with the badge which named her 'Kate Wisdom RGN". 'So?' he questioned, and his voice was as hard as his granite eye.
Kate looked sullen. No one would have guessed she was battling with the most extraordinary longing to stay here all night with Tom Galvan and blow the consequences.
'I didn't tell you my name because I knew Professor Davy had—er—told you about a nurse called Kate Wisdom who was supposed to have – um, well, I mean, I was only doing my job and anyone would have done the same, wouldn't they? Specially for someone like you. One of St Crispin's own surgeons.'
He was watching her closely. 'Go on.'
Kate squared her shoulders and looked him straight in the eye. 'If you'd known it was me, you might have felt you had to 'be nice' or something. Much better for you to get the anger out of your system. Explode if you wanted to – and clearly you did want to. I was ready to deal with it.'
Tom, listening intently, didn't move a muscle.
'Let's face it, Tom, there was only me left willing to give it a try.' With a shaky forefinger she jabbed at her chest. 'No one else would come near you.'
Stay cool, Katie girl. Keep your voice calm and level. 'I thought I'd conceal my identity and pretend to be a bit strict. First I wanted you to see I was determined to stand my ground. And second I wanted to be the kind of nurse you truly needed, the one who would help you come to terms with this tragic thing that happened to you,' she finished proudly.
Tom thought she was riveting. It was fascinating to see the internal play of her emotions through that pale transparent skin. She meant just what she said. If the accident was a tragedy, it wasn't his alone, it was a tragedy shared.
It struck him like a bolt. He was on the verge of falling in love with darling Gertie. She'd be appalled!
To lighten the moment he turned it all into a joke, only to regret it as soon as the sardonic words were out of his mouth.
'So, Angel Kate, you've been pretending to be a dragon when really you were doing all this for love of me.'
Kate's nails ripped into the plastic apron she was still holding. She backed away from him, her face turning white and shocked. 'I realise you've come to take it for granted you're irresistible to women. Perhaps I'm the first, I wouldn't know, but I do assure you my concern for your case is entirely and one hundred per cent professional.'
Tom knew he must make amends. 'Peace, dear Gertie, I was only teasing. That remark was inappropriate. I'm sorry. Forgive me.'
Kate took a deep breath and he saw her hands were trembling. Dammit, he'd behaved like a complete fool.
For her part, Kate was wishing she'd had the wit to come back with some teasing remark and taken his words as the joke he intended. 'Now, Mr Galvan,' she said briskly, 'I'll put the television on and you can watch the news while you have your supper.'
He muttered something about inedible rubbish and normality was restored.
'Goodnight then.'
'Goodnight … Kate! See you in the morning.'
It wasn't until she had changed out of her uniform, brushed out her hair, and rucksack over her shoulder was about to leave the building that Kate remembered Tom had asked her to post his letters. She should have gone off duty forty minutes ago … why should she give up more of her own time to run errands for such an arrogant and unappreciative patient? Why indeed!
It wouldn't take a minute just to run up and fetch them. If she didn't he'd assume she was sulking. The cheek of the man! In love with him, indeed! He may be an expert on brains, but he knows next to nothing about hearts.
She pressed a hand against the thumping in her chest. It had started up the moment she thought of going back up to Room 27.
Katie Katie Katie! warned a small voice in her head. Be careful! You know you're on the slippery slope. However much you fight against it, you're falling in love with your patient.
Kate bit her lip and sighed. Keeping her feelings under control when she was near him was getting harder by the day, by the hour, by the minute. But that wasn't love. That was sexual attraction, just a physical reaction and nothing like the affection she felt for poor James.
'Hi, Kate! Didn't know you were on a late today.' One of the night staff was regarding Kate curiously as she dithered by the stairs. 'Forgot something!' was the breathless explanation, and Kate disappeared in a scramble of long legs and flying loose hair. At Tom Galvan's door she took a deep breath and knocked. Then assuming her usual cool and composed persona she stepped back into the panther's den…
* * *
For once Tom's concentration was letting him down. Using the remote he switched off the television and with his good arm opened his briefcase and tipped his papers onto the bed. Then he reached up to the top shelf of the clothes cupboard and there, right at the back, found the cigars and matches Kimberley had brought over for him. On Maynard it was totally forbidden.
One small cigar to increase brain arousal.
He was making little headway with the photocopy he'd been sent of Dr Engelun's paper on the pineal gland. Engelun was an eminent German neurologist and his paper too hot off the press to have b
een translated. Without a dictionary the effort was pretty useless; his German wasn't up to the task.
And his mind was preoccupied with Nurse Wisdom to a most extraordinary degree. What in hell was the matter with him?
Wisdom. Wisdom. Wisdom … Wisdom's the angelic face floating over him when he thought he was dying. Wisdom's voice whispering reassuring words in his ear. Wisdom's cool hand on his forehead as the pain increased to unbearable agony.
Memory was coming back to him now, details triggering each other as they surfaced in his brain …
A chill sweat broke out on Tom's brow as mentally he relived the horror and the pain.
Trapped alone in the wreckage, he'd known there were grave internal injuries. And something was disastrously wrong with his left arm. With his hand raised he could feel a radial pulse which disappeared when the hand was lowered. The main bone in his arm—the humerus, he gauged to be splintered. And all it needed was one sliver of shattered bone to spear the main artery and render his operating hand withered and useless for ever. He must not lose consciousness. He must hold that arm rigid and immovable against his injured torso.
Wisdom, living up to her surname, had sensed the intensity of his will and allowed no one to interfere before expert help arrived on the scene. And she was the one who had brought Frank to him just in the nick of time.
Yes, there was everything to be grateful for. And some day he would tell her.
Tom managed to get the window open and leaned out into the fresh air, exhaling gustily to keep the room from reeking of cigar smoke. How he cursed the day he'd been reduced to behaving like a naughty schoolboy, his freedom and privacy so monstrously curtailed.
A knock interrupted his reverie. His room door opened. He turned angrily at this intrusion… .
To confront the missing link, the one piece of the jigsaw which until now had refused to fall into place.
Chapter Six
'Mr Galvan!'
Kate looked shocked. Tom equally so.
He leaned against the windowsill, cigar half way to his lips, astonished at the sight of her. So he hadn't imagined that girl - the cyclist in the car park. Just when he'd convinced himself it was all a trick of the imagination—product of a blow to the head when he hit that motorway bridge - here she was in his room. A living breathing woman. Kate Wisdom RGN!