yRing for the Nurse(39)

           



       

With a last glance round the now immaculately tidy ward Felicity picked  up a stack of unwanted linen and returned it to the cupboard. A small  group of students crowding just within the entrance to the ward  proclaimed Guy Brenton's arrival and Sister beckoned Felicity over to  where she stood in conversation with the surgeon. "Ah, Nurse Dene, there  you are. I was just telling Mr. Brenton what a great pleasure it is to  us to see him back and what a lovely surprise it was when we heard he  was coming!"

Felicity repressed the smile which began to curl the corners of her  lips. The old hypocrite! Straightening her features she bade Guy Brenton  a formal "Good morning", her face, now quite devoid of expression, gave  no indication of her quickened heart beats and the joy which his  presence back on John Mason Ward afforded her. He looked so well too.  Gone was the unsightly sling and with his hand thrust in the jacket of  his white linen coat it was almost difficult to recall him any other  way; his illness, his helpless dependence, all that seemed like an ugly  dream and no part of this tall, broad-shouldered man, so strikingly  self-assured and virile.

"Well, I must say that our patient, although he was rather a fractious  lad, does us credit." Sister smiled archly, then perhaps aware that her  particular brand of humour was not to Guy Brenton's taste, began  hurriedly and with some confusion to discuss the cases he had no doubt  come to see. "There is Briggs of course-and Morati, yes, alas, we still  have him with us, still as difficult as ever, but the lad is showing  progress now and we've actually had him on his feet..." She babbled on  but Guy Brenton, who was now studying a list which his houseman had  handed him, was paying but scant, if any attention to her discourse.

"Grand to have him back," Philip managed to whisper to Felicity. "We'll get something done now ."

Felicity urged him to silence with a warning glance; she was just in  time as Guy Brenton, returning the slip of paper to Philip, advanced to  the first bed. "Thank you, Sister, I want to see the new admissions as  well as my old cases. Mr. MacFarlayne has given us much of his valuable  time during the past weeks, now I propose to take on as much of the work  as I can to relieve him; in future I'll follow up all cases, he will  only carry on with the theatre work." He paused, then added, "I expect  it will mean a long round this morning, don't let me detain you, Sister,  Nurse Dene can accompany us."

Sister Robinson seemed only too glad of the suggestion and with an  encouraging smile at Felicity hurried along the ward, no doubt glad of  these extra few moments to see that everything was in order.

Even as the visit from bed to bed progressed, Felicity felt sure that it  would take more than their hurried rush round to get John Mason Ward  back to the standard of efficiency which it had always boasted when Guy  Brenton had been in charge. Things had grown slacker and slacker of  recent weeks and Sister Robinson, prone as she had always been to take  the line of least resistance, had needed just that spur which Guy  Brenton's exacting demands had made upon her and Her underlying awe of  him to keep her up to the mark. Mr. MacFarlayne's easy-going ways had  proved fatal to one of her indulgent and kindly attitude. Authority had  been gradually undermined and she had allowed herself to fall all too  readily into a benign and satisfied state of apathy.

The first part of the round hadn't been too bad. Nurse Jones ever at her  elbow, had been ready to take a quick hint from Felicity. A missing  report was quickly found before Guy Brenton had even had time to notice  its absence, and the physiotherapist wheeling an ultra-violet lamp into  position had been hastily turned from the ward with Nurse Jones'  whispered reminder that Mr. Brenton had never allowed treatments to be  given during the hour set aside for his visit.

Felicity had begun to pat herself on the back that all was going well,  when the first hitch arose. "Is this the case MacFarlayne operated on on  Friday-fractured thigh, isn't it? Peterson pin case?" He questioned his  houseman. As Philip replied in the affirmative, Guy Brenton turned to  Felicity. "Has this temperature rise been reported? Has there been an  X-ray of chest?"                       
       
           



       

"I think Sister intended to report it to Mr. Elver or Mr. MacFarlayne this morning-" Felicity began But was quickly interrupted.

"You think!" he echoed with irritation. "I don't want to know what you think, but what has been done."

"Nothing has been done," Felicity informed him and, refusing to be  intimidated by his manner, went on, "I imagine that your unexpected  arrival caused the matter to be overlooked, it might have been better if  we had had longer warning." There was no trace of insolence in her  tone, but out of loyalty to Sister Robinson she felt constrained to  protest.

"There appears to be a slackness about everything, a condition I refuse to tolerate-"

"Yes," Felicity agreed boldly interrupting his words. "It's been a long  time-" She broke off and now there was almost a note of appeal in her  voice, in direct contrast to her previous attitude. "It will be all  right-very soon-now you are back."

Ambiguous words, but they left no doubt as to their meaning and, as  Felicity had intended, left Guy Brenton little to say. For a moment he  was silent, apparently at a loss, then briskly turned to Philip. "See to  it, at once, let me have the X-ray report as soon as it comes through."  There were, unfortunately, other minor upsets before the round had  finished and with a sigh of relief, Felicity followed Guy Brenton from  the ward towards Sister's office. Beyond the swing doors the students  dispersed, and Philip excusing himself, hurried off to arrange for the  portable X-ray.

"How about coffee?" Felicity suggested as she opened the door of  Sister's office and stood back for him to enter. At his nod of approval  she gave Nurse Jones the necessary instructions, then realized with some  dismay that Sister Robinson had disappeared. No doubt dreading a  tete-a-tete, Sister had taken advantage of the prolonged round to escape  to early lunch which gave Felicity no option but to remain in  attendance until Guy Brenton had drunk his coffee and left the ward.

With a shrug of resignation, Felicity accepted the inevitable and  helping him to exchange his white jacket for his own coat drew forward a  chair. "It's nice to see you back," she began formally. "How are you  feeling now?"

"I'm fine, even that obstinate shoulder wound has healed." He dismissed  the subject abruptly. "Tell me, are you managing to see your brother?"

"Now and again," Felicity explained. "I'm not bothering very much, he  has so many old friends to look up and soon-well, before long he'll have  me with him permanently. We've had one or two outings together but I  don't get a lot of time-" She broke off as Nurse Jones made a welcome  appearance with the coffee; she was glad to busy herself filling the  cups and hunting for the tin of biscuits which Sister always kept hidden  for such occasions.

"You must dine with us one evening at my flat. You know my father is in town, he is most anxious for you to come."

"Oh, is he?" Felicity's tone showed obvious pleasure. "I'd love to see  him again, he was so kind to me-and I'll never be able to thank him  enough for his hospitality to Tony." She broke off, then added, "It's  good of you, too, to let Tony stay with you, but now your father is with  you-is it too much-please don't let Tony impose on your hospitality."

His spontaneous laugh put her immediately at ease. "Of course not, I've  plenty of room, the flat was always far too large for me-in any case I  believe he plans to visit Somerset in a few days."



Felicity was indeed grateful that the conversation had so far remained  personal. Any discussion which involved John Mason Ward and the  slackness of which he must surely have been aware, would have been  unbearable. Anxious to keep matters on a safe level, she went on. "I  can't somehow imagine the Colonel being happy in London. Does he often  leave Weir Court?"

"Very rarely-but at, times he is glad to find an excuse for a flying  visit to town. He loves going to his club and meeting all his old  friends. He made the excuse this time that he must visit the tailor, he  needed a new suit for the wedding. I'm not deceived, the old man is  thoroughly enjoying himself." He smiled indulgently and suddenly he  seemed to Felicity to display that vulnerability which had discerned so  often during his illness. "Well, how about this dinner? Could you get  along, say Tuesday evening?"