A Match For Sister Maggy. Бетти Нилс
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you stay here for a while, Sister? Have you a good nurse for night duty here?’
Maggy shook her head. ‘There’s a shortage of nurses, Sir Charles, it’s this gastric bug. There’s no nurse at present, but Matron will arrange for one later on, I’m sure. I’ll bide till she comes.’ She looked at Williams and saw the disappointment on her face. ‘When I come back, Staff, will you make coffee for all of us. I’m sure the doctors would like a cup.’ She was rewarded by a grateful smile as she turned to Sir Charles.
‘I’ll give the report, sir, and be back. Staff Nurse will clear up and set the room ready.’ She gave Williams the keys and slipped away, watched by the two doctors.
Paul said low-voiced, ‘When Mother goes back home to Oudehof, I want Sister MacFergus to go with her.’
Sir Charles pursed his lips and looked doubtfully at his companion, who met his gaze with a cool determined look of his own.
‘She’s a ward sister, you know.’
‘I know. Could she not have special leave for a couple of weeks or so? I’ll pay whatever fee the hospital requires. I want someone I can trust to look after Mother.’
‘Naturally. And you trust Sister MacFergus?’
‘Yes, Uncle Charles, I do.’
The older man turned away and bent over his patient. There was a faint pink in her cheeks now; her pulse was regular and much stronger. He gave Williams some instructions, and went back to Paul. ‘Very well, Paul, I’ll do my best for you. Your mother will be here for a month—you know that. I daresay something can be arranged in the meantime. But I think we will say nothing of this for the time being. Do you agree?’
Paul nodded. ‘I’d like to stay the night. I don’t need to be back in Leiden until Monday morning.’
He broke off as Maggy came back into the room. She nodded to Williams, then took off her cuffs and rolled up her sleeves.
‘Staff’s making coffee. You’ll have a cup, Sir Charles? And you, sir? It’ll be ready in my office.’
‘And you, Sister?’ It was Dr Doelsma speaking.
‘I’ll be here, sir. I’ll have mine later.’ She didn’t even look at him, but busied herself with the drip.
Williams was waiting for them, hovering over Sister’s own coffee pot, very anxious to please. There were only two chairs, so Dr Doelsma sat on the desk and drank his coffee.
‘Are you not off duty, Staff Nurse?’
Williams, the faithful Jim’s image temporarily dimmed, fluttered her eyelashes and used a dimple devastatingly.
‘Yes, sir. But the night staff haven’t time to make coffee now.’
‘And Sister?’
‘She’s off too. Oh…’she remembered…‘she’s not been to supper, and she’ll be on duty until two o’clock—there’s no one to take over before then. I must make her some sandwiches.’ She forgot all about charming the Dutch doctor in her anxiety for Sister MacFergus.
‘Sister is fortunate to have a staff nurse who takes such care of her.’ He smiled down at the pretty little creature. Something in his face made her realise suddenly that behind his rather arrogant good looks there was strength of character, as well as kindness and a concern for others; it became of paramount importance to her to win his good opinion.
‘No, we’re the lucky ones. I mean the nurses on this ward. You see, sir, Sister’s one of the nicest people any of us have ever met. Of course, we all call her Maggy behind her back, but that’s because we like her—’ She broke off and looked uncertainly at Sir Charles who called Sister MacFergus Maggy to her face.
‘A good Scottish name,’ he murmured, and got up. With a smile and a nod of thanks he went back to Sep where the ECG machine was ready by the bed. He said, ‘Right, Sister,’ and Maggy started fastening the straps very carefully and gently, leaving Dr Doelsma to connect up the leads, and then stood back, waiting for the doctors to make a recording. They had just finished when Williams came in, whispered to her, said a low goodnight, and went off duty. Maggy had hardly begun to disconnect the leads before Dr Doelsma was by her side.
‘I’ll do that, Sister. Go and have your coffee and sandwiches.’ She glanced at Sir Charles. ‘Yes, Maggy, go and sit down for ten minutes. I’ll be over presently before I go. Dr Doelsma will be staying the night; he’ll be on hand if you want anyone in a hurry.’
The night passed slowly. There wasn’t a great deal to do. The doctor had refused the offer of a bed in the housemen’s quarters, but had remained in the room, sitting relaxed and calm in an easy chair near the bed. He had opened the dispatch case he had brought with him, and was busily engaged writing. Maggy supposed it was another lecture.
Just after midnight Mevrouw Doelsma woke up, asked for water in a thin voice and wanted to know the time. Maggy told her, and she frowned and whispered, ‘You poor child, you must be worn out; you’ve been here all day.’
Maggy hastened to assure her that she wasn’t in the least tired, but her patient only smiled and said, ‘Stuff!’ and then. ‘But I’m glad you were here. I felt quite safe with you.’ She turned her head to look at her son, standing beside her, his fingers on her pulse. ‘I won’t do it again. Don’t go just yet, will you?’
‘I can stay until tomorrow night, dear; you’ll be feeling much better by then.’ He gave the hand a squeeze and smiled, and she closed her eyes again, saying, ‘You’re both so enormous.’
Just before two o’clock, Maggy’s relief arrived. She was a senior student and a very good nurse, and a very attractive one too. Maggy introduced the doctor, gave a report, said goodnight, and made for the door. The doctor, with the advantage of longer legs, got there first, opened it, and then filled the doorway with his bulk so that it was impossible for her to go through.
‘I’m in your debt, Sister MacFergus,’ he looked steadily into her weary face. ‘You saved my mother’s life. You have my gratitude and my thanks.’
‘And I’ll thank ye also, Doctor, for if ye hadna’ come when ye did, I ken fine it might have gone ill with your mother.’ She smiled, all six feet of her drooping with tiredness. ‘Goodnight, sir.’ She slipped past him and was gone.
Maggy was quite her usual self when she went on duty the next morning. She took the report and then went into Sep, Dr Doelsma rose from his chair and wished her a good morning. He looked immaculate, freshly shaven, and not a crease to be seen; his face was that of a man who had enjoyed an untroubled night’s rest. The patient was sleeping, and according to the night nurse, entirely satisfactory. She picked up her report ready to give it, and was about to begin when Dr Doelsma coughed gently. ‘Er—shall I go, Sister, or may I stay?’ He sounded so meek that she shot him a suspicious glance before asking him politely to do as he wished. He settled back into his chair which creaked alarmingly under his weight, and opened out The Times, only lowering it briefly to wish the night nurse a warm farewell, coupled with a solicitous wish that she would sleep soundly, and all without a glance at Maggy, who had not failed to notice with an unusual flash of temper that he and the night nurse appeared to be on excellent terms. Despite herself, she gave an angry snort,
He lowered The Times for a second time. ‘You spoke, Sister?’
‘I did not,’ she snapped, and added ‘sir.’
He folded his paper carefully, glanced at his sleeping parent and asked.
‘Must I be called sir?’
She charted the pulse carefully.
‘Of course, Dr Doelsma. You are a consultant.’
‘So, by the same token, I may call you Maggy?’
She took a deep breath and said deliberately, ‘You are in a position to call me anything you wish, sir.’