The Healing Time by Andrews Lucilla

Author:Andrews, Lucilla [Andrews, Lucilla]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Tags: nursing, nurses, nurse stories, doctors and nurses, hospital romance, hospital stories
Publisher: Wyndham Books (Medical Romance)
Published: 2019-03-09T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

A CRISIS IN A LIFT

Mr Jones, the Wing Head Porter, had been a Cas porter when I was a Cas third-year. He never troubled to use my married name and allowed me the privilege of calling him Trevor. He was on a late shift on Monday night.

‘Nurse Dexter, there’s hoping I was to catch you!’ He backed into his office and reappeared with a wrapped sheath of flowers. ‘The young gentleman did not wish to take them up to your ward at this hour and there’s anxious he was you should have them. Promised him, I did, I’d see to it myself.’ The stage whisper produced by his great bass voice must have been audible throughout the hall. ‘Pinned the letter inside, I have.’ He looked beyond me as he handed me the sheath. ‘If it’s Sir Thomas you’re waiting for, Dr Kirby, sir, he’ll still be up in Luke.’

Joel and the Senior Casualty Officer had come out of the latter’s office. ‘Thanks, Trevor, I’d better get up to him. Hold that fast lift, Mrs Holtsmoor,’ Joel called languidly, ‘and I’ll drop you off at the ninth.’

My flowers could only be from George. Irrationally or not, they had made me feel so guilty that I was quite glad of a genuine excuse for postponing reading his letter. Joel took so long to saunter over to the lift that I could have read it. Only I was lift-girl. Joel lounged against the rear lift wall, his hands in his pockets whilst I closed the gates and pressed the right buttons. Saturday afternoon was years back; Thursday night two minutes ago. But he had been nice to Marcy. I said, ‘She’s mended.’

‘Good,’ he remarked to the floor.

The warmth of the lift enhanced the scent of the jonquils in my arms. Since I could not pretend they weren’t there and flowers were the one gift other than confectionery that Martha’s nurses were allowed to accept from patients, ex-patients, or relatives, to ease the stifling silence I said something trite about mine proving spring was here despite the icy wind presently blowing outside. Joel answered with a brief nod. I nearly told him to relax. I had the message.

‘When was Marcy last vaccinated?’

I looked at him, quickly. ‘She’d a booster four months ago. Why? Smallpox in our area?’

‘Uh-huh. A man walked into Medical Admissions with it this afternoon. He works in the docks and his four kids go to local schools. Not one’s been done ‒ until late this afternoon ‒ as Dad never held with shoving all that bloody muck into healthy kids. The local M.O.H. and the cops have been rounding up all known contacts, but they’ve still to trace the original source. They’ll get it eventually, but till they do, if there’s one case, there’ll probably be more.’

‘Probably. He walked in? Wasn’t he feeling like death?’

‘Only reason why he dragged himself in. He’s never held with bloody doctors either.’ He rubbed his eyes as if they ached and I noticed absently he was greenish as Jolly with her migraine.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.