Nurse Trudie is Engaged Read online

  NURSE TRUDIE IS ENGAGED

  Marjorie Norrell

  “An engagement of convenience” was how Philip had described his proposal. But hadn’t he guessed how Trudie really felt?

  CHAPTER ONE

  Philip Malham straightened the aching muscles in his back and flexed his fingers in their shrouding rubber gloves as the nurse came forward to help him remove his white coat. He was tired. He had been operating all morning, and that last operation had been a difficult and rather tricky one. He had been grateful for the nurse’s quick, implicit obedience to his orders and more than grateful that she had appeared to have an instinctive knowledge of what he would require next. His gray eyes smiled down into her surprisingly blue ones, congratulating her.

  “Thank you, Nurse,” he said formally. “I would like you to know how much I appreciate your help this morning. You look as tired as I feel.” Suddenly he grinned. “I hope you’re due for some free time.”

  “I start my week off duty this afternoon,” Trudie Hislop told him, conscious of the hot tide of color rushing from the base, of her throat to the roots of her dark gold hair. Words of praise in any form, were rare indeed from the senior consultant surgeon at St. Catherine’s.

  “Will there by anything else?” Trudie asked quietly as he appeared about to speak again.

  “No. No, thank you.” With a start Philip brought himself back to the present and smiled again. “I hope you enjoy your rest,” he added, surprising himself as she murmured something he could not quite hear and then quietly slipped away.

  “Getting friendly, aren’t you?” John Broadly, the anesthetist smiled at Philip as he prepared to leave the operating room.

  “Perhaps,” Philip agreed noncommittally, “but I think I’m safe enough where Nurse Hislop is concerned. She’s different, more engrossed in her work than in anything else. She wouldn’t be such a good all-around nurse if it were otherwise.”

  “She’s a good nurse all right,” John agreed. “I’m glad to see she’s recovered from the shock of her brother’s death,” he added, completely mystifying Philip, who knew little or nothing of the private lives of the other people working in the hospital. “Her father is Stephen Hislop. He’s the general practitioner out in your area,” John added.

  “Oh!” Philip nodded. Strangely enough he had never thought of Trudie in connection with the tall, burly Stephen Hislop. “I remember now. Died abroad in some mysterious shooting accident, didn’t he? Just about a year ago now.”

  “That’s right. Trudie is his twin. There are two other brothers, but Trudie and Garth were very close.”

  “You seem to know all about it,” Philip commented as they left the operating room together. “Friends of yours?”

  “I’ve known Stephen for more years than I care to remember,” John said soberly. “Grand chap. Grand family. I’ve known them all since they were babies. I knew their mother, too.”

  “Knew?” Philip wasn’t really interested but was intent on being polite.

  “She died about six years ago,” John told him. “Clever pianist. Did a great deal of concert work for charity.” He paused a moment, then, sensing his companion’s lack of interest he dropped the subject abruptly. “They have a housekeeper now,” he concluded, “and the wheels seem to turn around all right out at The Cedars. I’m for a coffee,” he added. “Coming?”

  “Not just now, thanks,” Philip paused at the door of the consultants’ lounge. “One or two points I want to clear up with a few people first.”

  “About your new appointment?” John asked.

  “Yes.” Philip’s glance roamed around the corridor walls for a moment, but it was obvious he was not seeing them. “I’m opening private consulting rooms in Thrackwaite,” he added. “There’s ample scope there, and Fellfield is a little too crowded now. I wanted the appointment ... it will give me more time to myself, and I’ll be able to do a number of things I’ve always wanted to do.”

  “Time you did,” John announced, “You’ve done nothing but work ever since you came here, and that must be all of five years ago now. Time you married and settled down,” he continued jokingly. “You’ve had long enough being the catch of the community!” He was smiling, but there was no answering smile on Philip’s face.

  “I was merely joking,” John said a little uneasily. “All the same, there is something in what I say, especially if you’re opening private consulting rooms in Thrackwaite. People like their doctor to be married. Somehow it gives them more confidence.”

  “When I marry—if I ever do—it will be because I love the woman, not because people expect me to be a married man,” Philip asserted firmly. “I don’t see that our private lives are the concern of anyone but ourselves, and I see no reason to change my ideas just now.”

  With that he turned abruptly and left John to continue his way down the corridor. Philip, the door of the lounge closed firmly behind him, leaned against its panels and gave vent to a deep sigh.

  “That sounded heartfelt! Come and have some coffee. I’ve just had it sent in for us.”

  From the depths of the big chair where she liked to relax, Dora Stacey, consultant on children’s diseases, roused to greet him.

  “Congratulations and all the rest of it,” she said as she poured the coffee. “It was what you wanted, I know.”

  “Thanks.” Philip accepted the coffee, suddenly grateful for the hot, sweet liquid. “Yes,” he admitted, offering her a cigarette, “it was what I wanted.”

  “But now everyone is wondering when you and Ursula are going to announce your engagement. That’s it, isn’t it?” Dora blew a cloud of smoke into the air and regarded him through the haze. “Don’t let them rush you into anything,” she added surprisingly. “A number of people do things they think other people expect them to do, and then they’re sorry afterward.” she went on. “Ursula’s a sweet girl, and I’m very fond of her, but she’s not the right one for you.”

  “None of them are,” Phillip laughed, but the laughter had a cold, gloomy note. “Maybe there’s something wrong with me,” he speculated, “or maybe it’s just that I’ve lived most of my life without much feminine influence and can’t get accustomed to accepting it now. I don’t know. I only know there’s something that ... jars after a time, with everyone.”

  “There’ll be one, the one, some day,” Dora comforted him, rising from her chair and stretching luxuriously. “You’ll see. In the meantime the best protection you can have is a nice, safe, comfortable engagement to someone who doesn’t want to rush off to the altar in a blaze of white satin as soon as is decently possible. There must be someone around. I’d volunteer myself if I were 20 years younger, but surely there’s some other female of your acquaintance who’s as dedicated to her own calling as you are to yours? It’s worthwhile looking around, Philip. It’s your best form of protection. As you are now, unattached, free, you’re fair game for anyone. I’m going now.” She glanced at her watch. “I’ve a committee meeting in half an hour. I’m hoping they’re going to add a block in my department out on the extension. Keep your fingers crossed for me! A great deal will depend on Mr. Hardy Sinclair’s mood this morning!”

  Philip acknowledged her departure and remained where he was, smoking, relaxing and thinking. Hardy Sinclair, chairman of the hospital’s management committee, was a solicitor of some standing in the community. While he was noted as being a fair-minded and just man, seeing both sides to every question, everyone knew how devoted he was to his niece. Philip wondered uneasily just how much pressure, if any, had been brought to bear upon him to make him give the casting vote in Philip’s favor.

  “I wonder how many other people applied for the job?” he asked himself as he rose from the chair and be
gan to pace the confines of the room. “I know Mason-Dickenson was up for an interview—”

  “Sorry to barge in on you, but I thought I’d find you here.” The door opened and John Broadly entered, his usual cheery grin on his face. “Just popped in to ask if you’re putting in a special request for any of the staff here to be transferred to your new section,” he went on. “Sister Meredith asked me who was to be the operating room Sister over there. She knows there are a number of new nurses coming to join us, but I think she rather hoped for the appointment herself.”

  “That’s Matron’s department, not mine,” Philip said briefly. “So long as she’s efficient I don’t care who she is.”

  “There are a number of people who want to move over there,” John told him. “Doesn’t it make you feel good to know that so many attractive women are anxious to work in your new extension?” he ended on a teasing note.

  “Not particularly,” Philip said briefly. “I think you’re making mountains out of molehills, John, and just trying to annoy me. I’m worried enough as it is, wondering just how much pressure was brought to bear on Mr. Sinclair to make him give the casting vote in my favor ... and there would be a casting vote, you know that as well as I do.”

  “Thinking of Ursula aren’t you?” John said slowly. “I wouldn’t worry too much there. If Sinclair thought you were the right man for the job that’s all there is to it. I don’t think Ursula would make any difference. I’m not saying she won’t have talked to her uncle,” he continued. “But I think she knows she’s been chasing a rainbow these past six months. She’ll be looking around for someone else more amenable to management than you’ve been,” he ended.

  “What’s the matter with me?” Philip demanded suddenly, whirling around on his friend. “Anyone else would be grateful to have a sweet person like Ursula taking an interest in their lives, in their career ... but I resent being ... managed. That was your word, but that’s how I feel life would be where a person like Ursula was concerned.”

  “Those are the sort of women who help men get to the top of their chosen tree,” John said sagely. “Not like my Sally, bless her heart. So long as we can carry on here, she nursing, me with my own job, helping folks to get well again as she puts it, she’s happy as the day is long. But the Ursulas of the world know the right people to meet, the right dinner parties to attend and to give, the works—”

  “I don’t want a woman like that,” Philip interrupted moodily. “Nor do I want a shallow, empty creature who thinks my work’s a bore and ought to finish at set hours and on set days. I don’t know what I want,” he ended abruptly, half-laughing at himself, “except that I’m inclined to agree now with what you said earlier today; it is time I married and settled down. But who on earth do I find to marry around here? I want someone like your Sally, but more my style, if you know what I mean.”

  “But there’s only one Sally,” John broke in, grinning again. “Sorry, old man, I’ve collared the model. You’ll have to find your own. You will if you look hard enough ... and remember it was Matron who introduced Sally to me!”

  “Matron!” Philip glanced at his watch and groaned. “I’d forgotten. I’m due to see her at two-thirty and it’s almost that now. See you later, Johnny boy. See what you can do toward solving my problem ... find a relative of Sally’s or something. Then I can ... settle down, as you call it, and work in peace!” With a wave of his hand he was out of the room and on his way to tap at Matron’s door.

  Sandra Rice, Matron of the Fellfield General Hospital, looked up with a smile as the doctor was shown into her office. She liked this young man very much. He was clever—brilliant, she would have said—unassuming, quiet and kind, gentle with his patients and willing to exhaust himself in order to help anyone, no matter who they were. She glanced at him now, seated opposite her, abruptly aware of the sense of tension he carried with him despite the outward show of being completely at ease.

  “I asked you to come and see me,” Matron began, “because it did occur to me that you may have some special requests to make regarding the nursing staff for the extension. These will have to be decided now so that everything can be arranged before the opening day in a month’s time. I may add,” she smiled, “that I’ve already received several requests for transfers, but naturally I would like to hear your own views first.”

  “I only want an efficient staff, Matron,” Philip told her, “and all your nurses are efficient. Who does what doesn’t make an atom of difference to me, provided she’s efficient, as I’ve said, and enthusiastic.”

  “All of them are well trained, Dr. Malham,” Matron affirmed. “As to their being enthusiastic, I can only say that most of those who have applied for transfer show a remarkable enthusiasm for the proposed change. I don’t know, of course,” her dark brown eyes twinkled at Philip in a conspiratorial manner, “how much of this enthusiasm is for the clean, fresh air of the countryside around Thrackwaite and how much is for the newly appointed senior consultant at the extension, but it’s there all right. Now, is there anyone you would especially like to have with you?”

  “I can’t think of anyone at the moment,” Philip said truthfully. “To be candid, Matron, off duty I spend more time avoiding members of the staff here than I do in cultivating their acquaintance, apart from my direct colleagues, of course. Because of that I only know the nursing staff in and around the hospital, and I’m afraid I don’t know enough about anyone to make a choice.”

  “I understand,” Matron said quietly, and so she did, she told herself; she understood only too well. From her position she observed most of what went on around the hospital and was aware of the almost blind adoration the majority of her nursing staff had for this handsome and brilliant young man. Because of this she could well appreciate how difficult it was for him to maintain a quiet, friendly manner to each and every one of them and nothing more than that with any one in particular.

  “I could,” she pointed out, “send an entirely new staff to the extension. New to Fellfield, that is. We have a number of newcomers due to join us during the next four weeks or so, but I imagined you might like to see one or two familiar faces around you, perhaps one or two nurses whose work you have found particularly outstanding ... But if there isn’t anyone—”

  “But there is.” The words were out almost before he had been aware of thinking them, and he had a sudden swift vision of the small, heart-shaped face of the woman he had praised earlier in the day, the woman who had worked in the operating room with him that morning. She had managed her job efficiently, quietly and without any fuss, seeming to know his requirements instinctively.

  “The staff nurse who assisted this morning,” he said crisply. “Her name is Hislop. She is one I would like with me, if you don’t mind. No particular reason,” he hastened to qualify his words, “except that she managed her job efficiently, quietly, and without any fuss—”

  Matron laughed, sensing his embarrassment at his own choice of words.

  “I hope none of my nurses fuss unnecessarily,” she said, still smiling. “Very well, Dr. Malham. I’ll have a word with Staff Sister Hislop, and if she would like to join you at the extension—”

  Her words were interrupted by the sharp shrilling of the telephone on her desk, and with a murmured “Excuse me” she picked up the instrument. A moment or so. later she looked across at Philip.

  “You’re wanted,” she said crisply, handing the instrument to him. “It’s urgent. A man has been injured loading heavy machinery over at Grainers. The ambulance men state severe internal injuries.”

  Philip was on his feet, ready for action arid eager to help. He paused briefly.

  “Nurse Hislop told me she was to go on off duty this afternoon,” he said quietly. “Do you think she could come to the operating room first?”

  “I have no doubt it can be arranged,” Matron said primly, wondering as she began to dial briskly whether it was just Nurse Hislop’s work or her undoubtedly attractive and lovely face that lay behind t
he request. But Philip gave her no clue. With a brief “Thanks,” he was out of her office and on his way to change. Once she had made certain Trudie Hislop would be available Matron sat back for a few moments and allowed herself the luxury of a brief daydream.

  “They’re a medical family,” she was thinking of the Hislops, “and old Doctor Stephen is a dear. It would help compensate Trudie, too, for Garth’s death—” Then someone tapped on her door, and there was no time for further speculation.

  Trudie was ready and waiting as Philip scrubbed up and prepared to operate. She had been startled by this unexpected summons, startled and more than pleased, because it was Philip who had requested her presence. Watching him as he waited for the anesthetic to take effect on the patient, Trudie thought how the others would envy her. Yet, she chided herself, they all knew how stupid and utterly foolish it would be to build anything out of this.

  The operation was a long and complicated one, and Trudie watched, as she always did, fascinated by the skill of the surgeon, the sure, deft movements of his hands. At last it was all over and he could straighten his aching shoulders, turning for her to help him off with his coat.

  “Thank you again, Nurse,” he said, smiling down at her. “I think we have finished for the day now. I hope you’re not too disappointed at missing some of your off duty?”

  “Not at all,” Trudie assured him gravely, then she smiled suddenly. “I won’t miss any of it,” she told him. “Matron added an extra day in compensation.”

  “I’m glad,” Philip said sincerely; then he turned away and she was free to go.

  Upstairs in the room she shared with Nurse Anderson, Trudie was preparing to leave, quietly thinking over the miracle of Philip’s sending for her, the wonder of working with him twice in one day. She was in no mood for chatter, but Mary Anderson was by no means sensitive to atmosphere and as soon as Trudie appeared, she wanted to know all about it.