by Hilary Neal
“I’m not doing anything, really. I just came out for some fresh air.” Fenella began to put her gloves on. “Mair, when you said you had a lot of plans pinned to Da—Sir David, did you mean that—did you mean what you said to me before?” She scrutinized the check the waitress had left. “When you said there was something you couldn’t yet talk about?”
Mair’s eyes were wary. “I did. Why?”
“Well, I know I musn’t ask you anything yet. But can you tell me this—are you sure it isn’t anything you couldn’t tell Micky?”
“Couldn’t tell Micky?” Mair stared, and then began to laugh. “Oh, Fenny Scott! Do you mean is my heart involved? I believe you do!”
“Something like that,” Fenella admitted, wondering at the sharp feeling of relief that sprang up in her with the sound of Mair’s laughter. “Isn’t it, then?”
Mair shook her head vigorously. “Good grief, no!” She leaned forward and hesitated before she said: “If I tell you now, will you promise—Guide’s honor, cross your heart and all that—that you won’t tell anyone else?”
“Not even Micky?”
“Not—Well, look: I’ll tell him myself. Tonight. Will that do? He can know, but nobody else, please. Yes?”
“All right, I promise. I won’t say anything to anyone except you and Micky.”
“You see,” Mair went on soberly, “our David’s a man who can’t abide gossiping females. Few things annoy him more than twittering in the hennery. He’d just hate to think his plans were being discussed by the nursing staff. See?”
“Yes, of course I see that.” Fenella folded up the check very small between her gloved fingers. “Go on—tell me.” She watched Mair’s dark face light up with enthusiasm as she leaned her chin on her clasped hands.
“He’s offered me a lovely job. He wants me to go and be his nurse and secretary and what-have-you at the new rooms. That’s one of the reasons I went to look at the place. And wild horses won’t drag the other-reason out of me, so don’t ask! You’ll hear before long.”
Fenella swallowed. “He must think a great deal of you. He—he isn’t easy to please, is he?”
“Oh, he thinks nothing of me as a person. It’s just fortuitous that I have the two advantages he sets store by: I know I’m quick—that’s only because I’m impatient, did he but know it—and I do have a flair for being mousey quiet when I have to. Believe me, it’s only the way I’m made—it isn’t anything I’ve cultivated. No credit to me at all, I assure you. Just nature.”
“It’s true, though.” Fenella sighed deeply. “You make me feel dreadfully clumsy and slow, sometimes. You’re like some little pixie or something whipping about. Yes, I can see you’re the type he likes to have around him. Besides, you’re decorative. You’ll set off the new rooms very well.”
Mair’s mouth half opened, and she stared. “Decorative? Me? If that’s what you think, I’ve got news for you! Don’t you ever look in a mirror? Even David said that...” She stopped.
“Said what?”
Mair closed-her lips firmly. “No. No, I shan’t tell you, now. You might get a swelled head. And anyway, you’re not in favor at the moment, are you?”
“I certainly am not! And by the way, does that mean that you’ll have to go on specialling him? If so, am I to go over to the female side?”
“He won’t need a special by tonight, I trust. If all goes well during the day. But what is done for him I’ll do myself. We’ll manage. Don’t worry.”
So Mair Lewis was chosen to go to the new rooms with David! Fenella could not subdue a little pang of envy. It hardly seemed fair that Mair, who now admitted that she had no personal interest in him, should be able to spend her working hours with him, getting to know him better, sharing knowledgeable little chats about cases, maybe travelling with him sometimes to private patients, always being the bridge between his fortress of privacy and his patients. She visualized herself in the same role ... and she was pulled up sharply by the memory of his voice saying impatiently: “Go away, Fenella. I won’t have you in here!”
Why had he been so angry? She was very quiet as she walked back with Mair along the High Street, and Mair, after glancing once or twice at her thoughtful face, was silent too.
Going on duty in the evening Fenella’s first thought was of David. She leaned over Mair’s shoulder in the little office to look at the report book.
Mair pointed to the entry. “See?” she said. “All goes well with the great man. Comfortable day, etcetera, etcetera. Blood discontinued. Taken fluids well. T.P.R. only slightly raised. What more do you want?”
“Nothing, thanks. I’m more than satisfied. I wonder what Matron wants you for?”
“Does she?”
Fenella indicated, the typed note clipped to the opposite page of the report book. “Matron would like to see SIN Lewis as soon as possible.”
“Oh! Good thing you noticed that—I hadn’t seen it.” Mair closed the book. “I’d better go now, and get it over.” She leaned forward to examine her face in the mirror, pulled her cap half an inch forward, pushed it back again, and tugged her already smooth apron a little tighter round her hips. “Carry on, Sergeant. Stand by to receive body, if she blows me out backwards.” She hurried quietly across the hall, and Fenella began to do the first round.
She longed to go first to David’s room, but resolutely turned left and went into Ward 2. Gilda was hidden from her by a barrier of roses on the bedtable. Clearly the day nurses had forgotten to take them out. She went over and reached for the two full bowls. “Good evening, Miss Seymour,” she began. “How are...” And then she stopped. Gilda’s eyes were blazing, and her mouth was set in an obstinate pout. “Why—is something wrong?”
Gilda flashed her a look of disgust. “Oh, no!” she exclaimed ironically. “Nothing whatsoever. Not one teeny little thing. Only that I always thought nurses were such trustworthy creatures. Simply stiff with integrity and honor! Evidently I was totally misled. And please leave my flowers where they are. Let me keep something!”
Fenella took her hands away from the rose-bowls and drew a deep breath. “Look, Miss Seymour—if there’s something wrong, if anything has happened to upset you, wouldn’t it be a good idea to tell me about it? Maybe I can help.”
“That wouldn’t surprise me in the least!” Gilda slid further down the bed and pointedly pulled the sheet up to her chin. “The matter is out of my hands now,” she said coldly. And then she closed her eyes.
Outside her room Fenella stood undecided for a moment, and then, hearing voices in the hall, she went slowly back down the central corridor. She halted when she saw Matron and Mair standing outside the office. Mair’s face was dark and perturbed, and Matron was flushed, her lower lip jutting ominously and her voice louder than usual. “Well, there it is, Nurse Lewis,” she was saying. “It’s gone, all right. And if it isn’t found there’s no doubt at all that she’ll call in the police. You have all night to sort this out.” She turned on her heel and marched away, and Mair walked back to Fenella.
“How awkward!” she said. “What the blazes can I do?”
“About what?” Had this something to do with Gilda’s strange mood?
Mair confirmed her fears. “Dear Gilda,” she said bitterly. “Wouldn’t you know? It’s a sign that one’s coming back to life. We ought to have guessed this would be the next step after lipstick. They always have to lose their jewels or something, don’t they? Well, I don’t grudge her publicity. But we don’t want it—not this way.”
“Lose their jewels?” Fenella frowned. “What are you trying to say? I didn’t know she had any here.”
“Not jewels this time.” Mair laughed shortly. “Next best thing, though. She says somebody’s taken twenty pounds out of her bag during the night. That’s all. What do you know about that?”
“No. One of the nurses, does she mean?”
“Presumably! Just as if anyone here would...”
Fenella drew a quick breath and clutched Mair’s wrist. �
�Wait!” She fumbled in her dress pocket, and brought out the little roll of notes. “It must be this! Has she forgotten?”
Mair took the money slowly and counted it. “Twenty. But—but what are you doing with it? I’m not with you.”
“She gave it to me. I’d quite forgotten, what with Sir David going off and everything. She gave it to me, Mair.”
“Gave it to you? But for heaven’s sake, why?”
Fenella turned and started down the corridor towards the wards again with Mair at her heels. “Not for me, silly. It was for old Joe. She wanted to do something for him, and she asked me to give it to him. She must have forgotten.”
Gilda, reminded, clapped her hands over her mouth and rolled her eyes. “Oh, my dears. I’d completely and utterly forgotten. So many other things ... I’m dreadfully sorry! What must you think of me? And what will Matron say?”
“Nothing much,” Fenella reassured her. “She’ll be only too delighted to have it settled.”
“But, Nurse Scott—I practically accused you of—of taking it!” She slapped her hand. “I told her you were the only one who...”
“That’s all right. Forget it. And anyway, Matron knows I’ve the best possible ... Matron knows I wouldn’t. So don’t worry, it’s finished.”
Outside the room again, Mair looked at her curiously.
“You had the best possible what?”
Fenella hesitated. “There isn’t the time to tell you, just now. I was going to say I had the best possible reason for not helping myself to Gilda’s money. Only last night I didn’t know it, actually, so it was no argument.”
The front door bell rang, and she excused herself. “I’ll tell you later,” she promised, as she rolled her sleeves down and ran.
Mr. Glanville Duncan was waiting on the front step. Fenella held the door wide open and stood back for him to come in. “Good evening, sir.”
“Good evening to you, Nurse. And how is our patient?”
“Improving, I think, sir. I haven’t seen him, but the day report is very satisfactory.”
He dropped his hat and gloves on the shining flower table, and looked up at her sharply. “Haven’t seen him? But I thought you were going to special him?”
“I was, sir. But he decided to have Nurse Lewis instead.”
The bushy eyebrows came down, twitching. “Indeed?” he said politely. “You surprise me, Nurse. Ah, well, we have to make allowance for these invalids, don’t we? I’d like to see him now, if I may.” He waited for her to lead the way.
Mair was nowhere in sight, and Fenella assumed she would be in Ward 5 with David. She tapped on the door and ushered the surgeon in. Mair was not there. You couldn’t leave anyone like Mr. Glanville Duncan, she reflected. She averted her eyes from the bed and rang for Nurse Dennis. Then she turned to face David.
Her quick movement caught him unaware. Before he had time to control his expression she had a brief glimpse of a quizzical half-smile, and caught the tail end of one of his most melting looks. Instantly he turned his face away and greeted Mr. Glanville Duncan. “Good evening. You seem to have worked the oracle between you.”
“Good evening, Anderson. Yes, you’re not looking at all bad. How do you feel?” He laid two perfunctory fingers on David’s wrist for a second.
“Sore! But otherwise not too bad, thanks. I’m practically a new man.” The greyness had left his face, and the lines of pain that had aged him were almost smoothed out.
Nurse Dennis knocked, and then her red forelock bobbed above the screen Fenella had drawn to the foot of the bed. “You rang, Staff?”
“Yes, Nurse. Will you tell Nurse Lewis that Mr. Glanville Duncan is here, please?”
Mr. Glanville Duncan looked at Fenella, and then at David. “Yes,” he said. “What’s all this I hear? Given your nice little nurse the sack, she tells me.”
David looked uncomfortable. “Not exactly,” he said.
“Not my affair, of course. But, after all, old man, I don’t know where you’d have been if...”
Fenella heard Mair’s quick step outside the door and made her escape, hot-cheeked. How could Mr. Glanville Duncan be so tactless? Or was he teasing both her and David? And what reason would David give him for telling her to go away? Would he say: “I simply can’t stand her near me”? Or would he say she was clumsy and noisy? And if it were true that he couldn’t bear her presence then what was the meaning of the look she had caught on his face just now?
But at least she had seen him, and seen how much improved his condition was. There was less to worry about now. If only ... She rolled her sleeves up firmly, and went to help Nurse Dennis with the big ward.
Joe was sitting up in bed, looking for her. “Nurse Lewis says you’ve got summat for me,” he told her. “What is it? A dose?” He cackled cheerfully. “I bet that’s all it is, an’ all!”
When he saw the roll of notes his jaw dropped. “That ain’t for me?” he said incredulously. “For old Joe? Never!”
She nodded. “It’s all yours, Joe. Twenty pounds. From a fan of yours.”
The old man’s eyes were full of tears, and he fingered the money in bewilderment. “From who?”
“Joe, have you ever heard of Gilda Seymour? The dancer?”
He looked up quickly. “Her in them little bally skirts, as was in that film not so long back? She never sent it to me, did she? She ain’t never heard of old Joe?”
“She has. Because she’s in Ward Two, Joe. And she sent it to you to cheer you up. What will you spend it on?”
He grinned. “Now what would I spend it on? Ask yourself, Nurse. When I get out of this place I’ll go and buy the biggest box of chocolates in the world, and send ’em to you nurses.”
“Oh, no, you don’t, Joe,” Nurse Dennis told him. “That’s for you, to buy something you want. Chocolates for nurses, indeed! I never heard of such a thing!”
“We’ll see,” said Joe determinedly. “We’ll see. In the meantime, you will put it in me little tin in me locker, please, Nurse?”
Fenella checked Nurse Dennis’s reaching hand. “No,” she decided. “We won’t do that. Let me ask Matron to take care of it for you, Joe, will you?”
“Just as you say, Nurse. I wouldn’t like to lose it.” He passed her the notes. “And—Nurse—”
“Yes, Joe?”
“Would you have a minute to write me a bit of a letter to this Miss Seymour? I ain’t much of a hand at writing. An’ I want to thank her.”
“All right, Joe,” she promised. “One of us will do it for you a bit later, when we have time. Now—up you come, and let’s straighten your sheet. What on earth do you do with it? Practise reef-knots, or something?”
“Well, I have to wriggle meself about a bit, to get meself exercised,” he protested. “That massage lady said so. Keep the feet moving, she said. Only doin’ as I’m told.”
“Shush!” Nurse Dennis told him. She cocked her head towards the corridor. Mair and Mr. Glanville Duncan were leaving Ward 5, Fenella saw. When she had finished Joe’s bed, she followed them, and met Mair coming away from the front door.
“All right?”
“Oh, very pleased, apparently. What’s biting you?”
“Mair, I can’t wait any longer to tell you. You know I said I had a good reason for not wanting twenty pounds?”
“Yes. Why, what is it?” She smiled. “I hope you haven’t won a football pool. Matron would never approve, I feel sure!”
A bell rang from one of the wards. Hastily Fenella told her. “Parsley left me his money. Twenty—Twenty thousand, Mair!”
“So that’s it? So it’s you?”
Fenella, half turned to go, looked at her sharply. “The way you said that—What do you mean?”
“Only that he’s left the same to someone else—if the original legatee turns it down. That means if you turn it down, evidently.” The bell rang again. There was no time for any more questions. Fenella hurried back to the wards.
CHAPTER X
AS FENELLA
crossed the hall on her way to night nurses’ breakfast Matron bobbed out of her office to waylay her. “Nurse Scott—can you spare me a moment, please?”
Fenella followed her into the office and stood facing her across the wide desk. The sensible face under the intricately frilled cap was serious.
“Sit down, Nurse. I’ve something to ask you, and I don’t want the answer now. I want you to think it over properly.”
What was worrying Matron? she wondered. The veiny hands were playing restlessly with the desk calendar.
“Nurse—you know we’ve been very concerned about Sister Barclay?”
“Yes, Matron. We heard she was making very slow progress. Is she really no better?”
Matron pursed her lips. “She’s almost herself again. But I’m afraid there is an aneurysm there. It means she won’t return to active duty. Not yet, if she ever does. In any case, she would only be able to undertake duties where a sudden blackout would not be dangerous to anyone else. At all events, we must proceed as though she were not returning at all.”
“I’m sorry. I liked her.”
“So am I, Nurse. She was a splendid person, and an excellent nurse. However—she must be replaced. Now, it seems to me that either you or Nurse Lewis could probably fill the position adequately. But Nurse Lewis tells me she has other plans. At any rate, she isn’t willing to commit herself at the moment. I would have liked to offer you the post—but I suppose you too will be making other arrangements now?”
“I? Why, Matron?”
Matron looked at her blankly. “Why, because of your legacy, of course! I quite expected that you might hand in your notice straight away. If I may say so, I was pleasantly surprised that you did not.”
“It hadn’t occurred to me. No, Matron, I don’t want to make any other arrangements. I don’t want to give up nursing. It’s the only thing I ever wanted to do—why should I give it up? I don’t look on it as a way of earning money!”