Читать книгу The Little Runaways - Cathy Sharp, Cathy Sharp - Страница 13

Carole glared as the door closed behind Angela and Mark Adderbury. She’d been getting on so well with the psychiatrist until Angela Morton turned up, breezing in on a cloud of fresh perfume – very expensive by the smell of it, her dress simple but well-cut and elegant, her shoes low-heeled patent leather. She looked confident and sure of herself – and of Mark Adderbury, smiling up at him in that guileless way of hers: the supercilious cat! Carole had decided she didn’t like the other woman, because she was too damned sure of herself and always looked as if she’d stepped out of a glossy magazine.

Carole felt a frump in her regulation uniform. Mark had been on the point of asking her to dinner, she was sure of it, before Angela Morton wafted in. Then there were all the questions concerning those two peculiar children. Neither of them was truly ill in Carole’s opinion. Nancy was putting on her headaches to get her own way, and the boy was just sullen. What they both needed was a good shake. Sister should put her foot down and make them separate into their various dorms. If she were in charge she wouldn’t take any nonsense.

Oh, well, it wasn’t part of her job to decide what happened to the children at St Saviour’s. All she was employed to do was to look after the sick ones.

Carole popped next door to the sick ward. Her patients were being served hot drinks by Jean Painter.

‘I’ve got some girls with sore throats to visit, Jean,’ she said to the young carer. ‘You can stay until I get back, can’t you? I don’t like to leave my patients alone – and the boy next door may start screaming. If he does just leave him to his sister. She can cope.’

‘Oh – if you’re sure,’ Jean said, and looked a bit nervous. ‘I haven’t been on sick ward duty alone before. Sally asked me to bring these drinks, because she was busy. It’s all right, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, fine,’ Carole said impatiently. The young carer was inexperienced and clearly unsure of herself, but she could manage for a while. ‘I don’t suppose I’ll be long.’ She picked up a bag containing various bits and pieces she might need and took it with her. Nan had said it was the second room along the girl’s corridor. She was new here herself and it took time to find your way about, because the building was old-fashioned with unexpected staircases that led to different parts of the house. Completely unsuitable for its purpose in Carole’s opinion.

She took the lift up to the next floor and counted the rooms, but the sound of coughing from one of them would have told her where the girls were. She entered and saw they were all huddled in their beds, looking sorry for themselves.

‘Have you had anything for your sore throats?’ she asked, and got nothing but moans and complaints about aching limbs and feeling hot.

A brief examination of the girls told Carole that they had all gone down with a nasty bout of flu. Immediately, her training kicked in and she became the efficient and capable nurse she was when a patient was truly ill. These girls ought to be in the isolation ward so that she could keep an eye on them. It was so ridiculous that the brother and sister from the fire should be taking up much-needed beds.

‘How are they?’ Nan’s voice asked from behind her, and Carole turned with a frown.

‘They’re suffering from flu as you suspected. I can’t keep running up and down stairs. I must speak to Sister Beatrice about getting Terry and Nancy moved into the dorms.’

‘Let me speak to her. I quite agree that these children should be in the isolation ward – either that or we need another nurse on duty …’

‘Yes. It may come to that if more of the children go down with it.’

‘I’ll speak to Sister Beatrice now, but I know we don’t have much room.’

Nan went out and Carole checked the girl called Sarah’s temperature again. It was a little lower but she was still very flushed and moaned when Carole took her pulse, crying a little. She was certainly worse than the other two. Carole felt a little anxious about her, but she ought to go back and see how Jean was coping.

She was returning to the ward when she saw Sally Rush coming towards her and stopped her. ‘It’s Sally, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, Sally Rush. Can I help you with anything?’

‘Are you very busy this morning?’

‘No more than usual,’ Sally said. ‘I’m just about to take my lunch break – but that doesn’t matter if I can help?’

‘Thanks.’ Carole felt relieved. ‘I know you’ve been here longer than most of the carers and I’ve got rather a lot to do. Could you give me a hand this afternoon?’

Sally hesitated. ‘I should be taking the little ones to the park, but Jean could swap duties with me.’

Carole felt the relief flood over her. ‘Thank you. I should feel easier in my mind if I knew you were around. I am quite anxious about one of my girls. Sarah is very feverish.’

‘Sarah Morgan?’ Sally looked concerned. ‘Yes, with good reason. She has a history of respiratory trouble. When she came to us she was recovering from pneumonia in the children’s hospital and she was in the sick ward for months before she was able to join her friends in the dorm and at school.’

‘Nan never said a word about her needing special care. I ought to have been told,’ Carole snapped.

‘Nan probably thought you knew,’ Sally said. ‘Sorry, you haven’t been here long. You couldn’t know about Sarah’s weak chest but of course it was a long time ago.’

‘At least I know now. Thank you, Sally. This makes it even more important that Terry and Nancy should be moved.’

‘Are you too busy?’ Nan asked, poking her head round the door of Sister’s office. ‘It is quite important.’

‘Come in, Nan. Mark has been telling me that Nancy and Terry must not be parted, but we need the isolation ward free. I can’t let them stay there indefinitely − but I don’t have anywhere they can be put together …’

‘Have you asked Angela?’ Mark said, and received a glare for his pains.

‘She brought me an up-to-date list of available beds this morning. It’s impossible – until the new wing comes on stream.’

‘This is why I came to see you. The children can have my sitting room,’ Nan said. ‘It’s big enough for two single beds and I can use the staff room when I need a rest. It would be a temporary thing, until they can be split up – besides, we’ll have the new wing in a few weeks.’

‘Nan! You need a room where you can be private sometimes,’ Beatrice said, but the relief was in her eyes. ‘I suppose it would be useful for the time being … It means inconvenience for you, though.’

‘Oh, I don’t mind. Excuse me now; I am supposed to be taking the younger children out. We’re going to Itchy Park, as it used to be called – Christ Church Gardens, as you probably know it.’

‘I won’t ask why it was called Itchy Park, I can probably guess – because of all the down and outs that congregated there?’ Mark followed her from the room. ‘You get on,’ he said, and watched her walk off down the hall.

Mark’s thoughts turned from St Saviour’s problems as he remembered the look in the attractive young nurse’s eyes. Staff Nurse Carole had been giving him sweet smiles and discreet hints ever since they met. She was very young, of course, but there was something about her that he was drawn to. He liked her and if it wasn’t for Angela …

Not that he knew where he stood with the woman who had become so important to him. Angela had grown since she came to St Saviour’s. If he’d helped her achieve peace of mind and a new confidence he was glad – but he still had no idea whether she thought of him as any more than a friend. At times he’d thought he was making headway but then, after Christmas, when she’d discovered her mother’s illness, she’d seemed to withdraw – even to blame him; though how he could have told her what was going on when both her parents had asked him not to, he had no idea.

Angela had embraced this new life with enthusiasm and it had given her the purpose she needed to live and be happy. He thought she was happy, though he could never be quite sure what lay behind the quiet eyes – as blue-green as a mountain pool. She was a deep character and he found her captivating, but Angela never gave him reason to think that she felt more than friendship.

What was it he wanted from his own life, he wondered. Was he content to continue as he had for years, living as a bachelor without a wife or family? He wasn’t too old to start a family, surely? For years he’d felt that he didn’t deserve a second chance, because after he and his wife, Edine, had lost their son, they had drifted apart and she’d died a pointless, lonely death.

Yet of late Mark had begun to think of a time when his working life was over. Did he really want to dwindle into some crusty old man living alone, too old for a social life and no family to care what happened to him? Mark laughed at himself for brooding. He would advise his patients not to dwell on negative things …

If he was to marry again, he would need to be sure it was to the right woman; that they had the rest of their lives together to look forward to. Was there anything wrong with asking a pretty girl out, even if she was too young? If he did, it might even make Angela notice him as a man rather than a friend.

He found he had a spring in his step as he went down the stairs and out of the home into the cool air. He loved this old city, with so much history in its ancient buildings – a good brisk walk as far as the London Hospital would clear his mind – and he ought to be thinking about his patients’ problems, not his own love life, or lack of it.