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.’ She realised her mistake as soon as she had spoken.
‘My dear girl, how kind of you.’ His voice was smooth. ‘I wonder, what shall it be?’
She blushed under his mocking eye, and said with dignity, ‘That’s not what I meant, Doctor, and you know it.’ She put down the chart and went on briskly, ‘I doubt you’ll be wanting your breakfast—I’ll arrange that.’
‘Don’t bother—er—Sister. Now that you’re here, I’ll go over and see Sir Charles and breakfast with him. I’ll be back within the hour.’
‘Very well, sir, I’ll ring you if it should be necessary.’
She ignored him, and prepared to take Mevrouw Doelsma’s blood pressure. Her patient opened her eyes at that moment, and said, ‘Hullo, it’s you again. I’m glad. A sweet girl, the night nurse, but so earnest, I felt as though I had one foot in the grave all night.’
Maggy smiled and said gently. ‘Fiddlesticks, you were dreaming—and both feet are safe here in bed.’
She turned to find Dr Doelsma still there, looming over the end of the bed.
He said, ‘Hullo, Mama. I’m going over to Uncle Charles. Be good.’ He turned at the door, with his hand on the knob.
‘You’ll ring me, won’t you, Sister?’ He sounded casual, but she could see the worry in his eyes.
She smiled at him warmly. ‘Of course.’ She looked supremely confident and capable, standing there in her trim uniform.
There was still a shortage of nurses; if Williams was to get her half day. Maggy thought, she herself would have to go off duty that morning. She decided to do so as soon as Dr Doelsma returned. Williams could look after the ward, and Sibley, the third-year nurse, could come into Sep. Sir Charles came back with Dr Doelsma, they looked well fed and relaxed. Maggy, who had had a sketchy breakfast, thought longingly of coffee… She would never get off duty by ten o’clock. It was a quarter past the hour when Sir Charles finished examining his patient. He held a short discussion with Paul and called for another ECG.
Maggy was buckling the straps when Dr Doelsma came over to do his part.
‘Are you not off duty, Sister?’ She glanced up in surprise.
‘How did you know?’
‘That pretty little staff nurse of yours told me. Shall I get her in so that you can go?’
She tightened a buckle slowly. ‘Why not?’ she asked coolly. ‘Though I’m afraid Staff won’t be able to come for long. But Nurse Sibley shall relieve her; she’s the pretty blonde with green eyes—I’m sure you will have noticed her.’
She didn’t look up to see what effect her words had had, but finished what she was doing, sent for Williams to take her place, and went to the ward. By the time she had done a round it was almost eleven. She decided to have coffee in the Sisters’ Home, but when she got there it didn’t seem worth while. Dinner would be at twelve-thirty. She flounced into the sitting room, feeling pettish and more than a little sorry for herself, and buried herself in the papers for the next hour or so. There weren’t any other Sisters off; she wished she had not bothered to go off duty at all, though that, she decided, would not have pleased Dr Doelsma, for then he would have had to have put up with her for the whole morning.
She returned on duty after lunch, her frame of mind by no means improved. The ward was fairly quiet. She sent Nurse Sibley to her dinner, and Williams to her afternoon with the faithful Jim. That left little Nurse Sims whom she sent into the ward to tidy it for visitors; she herself went into Sep until Sibley should return. Both doctors had gone to lunch; her patient was sleeping. She studied the charts and then started to pick up the papers littered around the doctor’s chair. They were closely written in a foreign language—Dutch, she supposed; in any case, they would have been unintelligible in English. She made a tidy pile, then went to open the window wider. It was a lovely late August day; she would have liked to have been home, tramping the hills with the dogs. The door opened, but she didn’t turn round at once, but said,
‘You
