Change of Duty Read online

  CHANGE OF DUTY

  Marjorie Norrell

  Staff nurse Hilary Bell was rather disappointed when, after a bout of illness, she had to give up nursing for a year and take a “light duty” job as first aid nurse in a big department store.

  But Hilary was the kind of girl who always did her best in any job—and she was to get a splendid reward!

  CHAPTER ONE

  “Are you ready to see Matron?” Sally Baxter smiled as she watched her friend, Nurse Hilary Bell, giving a last-minute flick to her immaculate uniform. “It can’t be because you’ve done something wrong that she’s asked you to see her,” she continued in a reassuring tone. But one could never be completely certain where Matron Rowland was concerned! However, it would never do for Hilary to arrive at Matron’s door with a worried look on her pretty face! It would be disturbing enough to see how thin Hilary’s face had become lately.

  “It can’t, can it?” Hilary’s voice hid a sudden tremble of laughter that sounded much more like the Hilary her friends knew and loved. “I haven’t been anywhere or done anything in the past three weeks that could bring down Matron’s wrath on my head, unless—” she stopped abruptly and the laughter faded as though it had never been “—she’s going to complain about the noise you made when you all congregated around my bed!”

  “Matron’s fair,” Sally conceded, “She’d have complained to us, not to you. No,” she flashed a reassuring grin in Hilary’s direction before continuing, “I should imagine she’s going to try to send you off to some convalescent home—perhaps that one on the south coast where Nurse Lewis went—until you’re really fit again.”

  “I’m fit enough for duty now,” Hilary protested stubbornly. “I don’t know why there’s all this fuss in the first place! I’m not ill any more. There are plenty of people in this hospital who need a rest and a change just as much as you seem to think I do!”

  “But they haven’t driven themselves to the point of complete exhaustion over two particular patients, remember!” Sally mocked gently. “I’m not belittling what you’ve done, Hilary, but you must realize there are several other nurses in the Intensive Care Unit, and your friends would have been well looked after if you’d stopped to sleep and eat occasionally.”

  “I know.” Hilary made a small, dismissing gesture. “It wasn’t that I felt no one could cope as well as I could,” she said half-apologetically. “It was just that ... I knew them both so well.”

  “Let’s hope they both remember you as devotedly when they have their names in lights!” Sally said briefly, thinking back to the night of the crash when the two girls in question had been taken into the Intensive Care Unit at St. David’s.

  Jane and Janet Thurlove had been driving to the airport destined, or so everyone confidently expected, for New York and stardom, as twin-sister singers and dancers.

  There had been fog on the highway, and despite warning lights, the ghastly pile-up had added to itself, vehicle by vehicle, with the car containing the two girls, their agent and manager sandwiched somewhere in the middle.

  Hilary had recognized them on admission, despite the disfiguring bandaging employed by the Casualty Unit on admittance. Their first names, she saw as she consulted the admission cards, had been changed but the girls were the twins who had been at her old school, members of “her crowd,” and she remembered so well that even in those days they had been “waiting to be discovered.”

  Nurse Dawson of the Intensive Care Unit was renowned throughout St. David’s for inspiring others with the same devotion she herself brought to her work. There had been no necessity for any inspiration in the case of the dancing-singing twins. Hilary had always liked them and had known them so long and so well, that she gave them every ounce of emotional, as well as nursing, care she was capable of.

  Monica Dawson had not interfered. Not at first. Only when Hilary was visibly forcing herself to endure long hours of strain, did she remonstrate at all.

  Respecting Nurse Dawson’s authority, Hilary had listened quietly and politely, but she had continued to give of herself to the last degree. She seemed to be willing the two girls to get better and to believe that their future would, after all, be what they hoped; that injury and disfigurement would be overcome; that it remained for them only to join their wills to hers for the final triumph.

  It appeared that she had succeeded, although, as Sally had pointed out, Nurse Dawson and the other staff members had played their part, too. The fact remained, however, that Hilary had played the most important part in building up a belief that the care being given, the pain and discomfort endured would finally restore to the twins the bright future that had lain before them until the night of the accident.

  The previous Friday, these two patients had been sent off to a quiet hotel on the south coast where they were to spend a few weeks before setting out, once more, for New York. It had been Monica Dawson’s painful duty to tell them that their former schoolmate, whose nursing had helped to save them, would not be there to wish them well.

  Almost a month previously, when they were on their way to complete recovery, Hilary had come off duty and gone thankfully to bed. She felt exhausted but happy, yet on the following morning when she tried to rise, she found, to her horror, that it was totally impossible.

  Doctor Michael Maltby had been called in, and he in turn had consulted Mr. Evans, the hospital’s Medical Consultant. Hilary could not even register the numerous tests that were made, the times her blood pressure was taken, her pulse and respiratory rate checked. All she knew was that she felt too utterly exhausted to care what happened next or even what became of her. Sally and one or two others, however, marveled that even in this state of near-collapse she was still concerned about Jane and Janet. Once she had been assured that the twins were on their way to the hotel and that the contract was being held open for them in New York, it seemed she could relax and give herself up completely to the sheer exhaustion that overwhelmed her.

  She spent the first week in the small staff sanatorium at the top of the nurses’ residence. But soon her youth and natural resilience began to reassert itself and she was fretting to be back on duty. Finally, Michael had her moved to a small ward in Women’s Medical, where he could keep an eye on her and where she would have the company of the other nurses on duty or during visiting hours.

  Apparently, the scheme had worked well. Day by day Hilary’s strength grew, and the feeling of being utterly drained of every emotion, even, at first, of the natural impulse to work for others, had left her. Michael, however, would not allow her to overtax her strength for some time, knowing that Hilary would never have believed just how close she had come to a complete breakdown.

  This morning was her first day officially off the sick list, and when she had awakened it had been to the knowledge that Matron wanted to see her. She glanced at her watch ... in about three minutes from now!

  “I’ll be late if I don’t hurry,” she observed to Sally. “I hope it’s nothing...”

  “Maybe she’s going to give you a medal for outstanding devotion to duty or something,” Sally joked, but as Hilary was about to go through the door her tone became serious.

  “I’m only joking,” she said lightly, “but there’s a certain amount of truth in it, just the same. Try not to look as though you’re entering a lion’s den. Good luck!”

  Hilary thanked her, smiled and left the small room, walking quickly down the stairs and across to the hospital. Sally was right, she reflected. Matron Rowland might be almost on the point of retirement, but she was an excellent nurse herself, and all the time Hilary had been at St. David’s, Matron had impressed on her nurse: that ‘the patient is the important person.’ How then could she be called to account, when her illness had arisen so
lely from devotion to duty?

  Greatly cheered by this reflection, she tapped or Matron’s door and was bidden to enter, to find Matron Rowland seated behind her desk, working on some papers. She did not lift her head as she said “good morning,” but with the point of her pencil indicated a chair at the far side of the desk and said, “Won’t you sit, please, Nurse? I won’t keep you a moment.”

  Hilary sat in silence, her hands on her lap in the prescribed manner, waiting. After what seemed an eternity, Matron put her pencil down, pushed aside the papers and looked directly into the girl’s eyes.

  “Don’t look so worried, Nurse,” she began kindly. “I merely want to express my gratitude that one member of my staff puts the welfare of her patients so far before all else that she is, apparently, willing to go to extreme lengths. I am fortunate in my staff—” she held up a restraining hand as Hilary had been about to respond “—but the two patients who have just left us appear to have received exceptional nursing, over and above the high standard I have come to expect from each and every one of you.”

  “Thank you, Matron,” Hilary murmured as her superior paused for a moment. “I ... I used to know them, you see, when we were at school.”

  “But you would have done the same for any patient admitted in conditions such as those were,” Matron said briefly. “I knew that even before Nurse Dawson assured me.”

  “Nurse Dawson?” Hilary felt she must sound foolish repeating Dawson’s name, but Matron merely smiled.

  “You nurses are all alike!” she chided gently. “You don’t believe—perhaps because you don’t want to believe—that the senior nurses and myself have your happiness and your welfare at heart! Nurse Dawson was very worried about the strain you imposed upon yourself. She came to talk to me about it some time before your ... collapse.” She paused for such a long time then that Hilary began to feel nervous. It was part of the accepted code that a nurse should be strong and able to withstand strain. The fact that she had deliberately pushed herself to the point of potentially serious danger might be a reason for asking for her resignation ... or so her wild thoughts ran.

  Fortunately, before she could voice any of the truly frightening reflections rushing through her mind, Matron spoke again.

  “Nurse Dawson informs me that you are now considered fit for light duties.” She stressed the word so significantly that Hilary tried in vain to imagine just what could be classed as “light duties” in St. David’s.

  “I have given a great deal of thought to this matter,” Matron resumed, “and I have one or two suggestions to put to you, nurse. First of all, remember there is nothing in the Intensive Care Unit that could really come under the heading of “light duties,” so the first thing to remember is that we must place you elsewhere, for a time, at any rate.”

  She picked up a long sheaf of notes from her desk and studied it carefully, although Hilary was quite certain she knew very well just what was written there and precisely what she was going to suggest.

  “As I see it,” Matron continued, “the position as Out Patients’ receptionist appears to be the only possible opening here in St. David’s until you are stronger. I have a further suggestion. You remember Nurse Lewis went to our own convalescent home after her operation?” Hilary nodded. “The Haven,” Matron went on, “is a very pleasant place, in delightful surroundings, although—” her smile crept out again “—perhaps in March it may all seem a little bleak and bare. Yet I assure you the air there is most bracing, even in the summer. The only people there are either the nursing staff or patients on the high road to recovery.”

  Hilary bit back the angry words that sprang to her lips. She, as well as everyone else at St. David’s, knew the nursing staff of The Haven were all qualified nurses, but that, for one reason or another—such as Sister Judd’s slipped disc—they were no longer able to withstand the busy life on the wards. They were still in the career they loved, even though they were, she thought crossly, “lame dogs” themselves!

  “Perhaps you would like to think over my two suggestions, nurse,” Matron said quietly, “and remember this is only a temporary measure. Nurse Henderson at The Haven is getting married at the end of the year. She is most anxious to spend some time preparing for her new home, which I understand is to be on one of the islands somewhere around Scotland. It would be a kindness if you could relieve her of duty, say, for a period of six months?” As if sensing the question that hovered on Hilary’s lips, Matron continued smoothly, “Nurse Booth will be acting staff nurse in the Intensive Care Unit during your ... shall we call it “extended convalescence.” You will appreciate that I am offering you the opportunity to go back to work, although I must insist you undertake only light duties for another year.”

  “I see. Yes, Matron. Thank you, Matron.” Hilary felt as though she had been hit over the head with a blunt instrument. This was almost the last thing she expected! So this was her reward for helping the two girls who had been so badly injured back to a new life! She knew Matron must be right, and the fact that she felt a little unsteady just now seemed to prove the point that she wasn’t yet ready for hard work on her own unit.

  “Take until the end of the week to decide.” Matron spoke kindly, yet her tone was one of dismissal, and Hilary rose to leave. “There’s no need to hurry, you know, nurse. Just remember I do appreciate how much you long to be back on duty, and this seems the best—the only—way of allowing you to do so. By the way,” she concluded as the girl reached the door, “it is because I really do appreciate the strain you have undergone that I want you to accept my suggestion today. Good morning!”

  Hilary found herself outside the door where a small group of nurses was awaiting an interview with Matron, but she ignored every one of them as she hurried along the corridor to the nurse’s residence. Once there she ran upstairs to the nurses’ common room on the second floor.

  The room seemed empty, and without stopping to wonder about creases in her immaculate uniform, Hilary flung herself down in a small armchair.

  Normally, she only stayed in the common room when there was something she particularly wished to watch on television. She had a full life in her off-duty hours, and she and Sally spent most of their free time together. Sitting here alone she felt suddenly lost and forlorn, and it was with genuine surprise that she swung around to face whoever was entering the room just then.

  “Oh!” she said flatly, relaxing again. “It’s you.”

  “That’s right.” Sally perched herself on the arm of Hilary’s chair, her gray eyes wearing a worried look, her usually cheerful face carrying a sober expression. “What’s wrong?” she demanded bluntly. “I know something is, so don’t try to hide it. I was in the hallway when you came in just now and you didn’t even see me! She can’t have reprimanded you, not after all the extra work you put in on those girls?” she began.

  “She didn’t!” Hilary said briefly, and went onto outline exactly what Matron Rowland had said, but although she made no mention of Matron’s concluding remarks, Sally knew her chief well enough to guess that real concern for Hilary’s well-being had been the motive behind the interview.

  “Well—” Sally was an incurable optimist “—it seems she really does think it’s both wonderful and unusual to show such devotion not to one patient, but to two! I’d take the position at The Haven, Hilary, if I were you. I know it’s not what you want, but—” she eyed her friend narrowly, consideringly, before continuing “—you do look what my mum calls ‘a bit peaky.’ “

  “I haven’t said I’ll go yet!” Hilary murmured rebelliously. “I might decide to stay on at Out Patients and St. David’s. I might,” she ended as an afterthought, “even apply for a nursing post on someone else’s Intensive Care Unit.”

  “That reminds me ... Dawson said she’d like to see you after you’d been to Matron.” Sally rose, yawned and moved to the door. “I’m sick of night duty,” she grumbled lightly. “I like a peaceful night, and on Intensive Care there just isn’t such a thin
g!”

  Hilary smiled affectionately at the retreating figure. Sally was just as devoted as Hilary or any other nurse in their particular unit. It was just that she had known those two girls from schooldays, and they had clung to her as a sort of anchor from the moment they had regained consciousness.

  “I suppose I’d better go and see Dawson,” she reflected, and a glance at the clock told her that if she hurried she would catch her as she came off duty for the day.

  When Monica Dawson spotted Hilary, she beckoned the girl to follow her to the staff sitting room where they could chat in comfort and in comparatively peaceful seclusion.

  “What happened, nurse?” Monica asked quietly, noting the whiteness of Hilary’s cheeks, the dark shadows under her eyes. “What did Matron suggest?”

  “Two alternatives, really,” Hilary told her. “First she suggested I might like to work in Out Patients for a time, then that I might like to go to The Haven—to work, I mean.” Her small laugh showed how deeply the words had struck.

  “And what did you say?” Monica asked as the girl remained silent after the brief speech. “Which did you choose?”

  “Matron gave me until the end of the week to decide,” Hilary confessed. “I ... I haven’t made up my mind yet, but couldn’t I come back to my own place, my own work, Nurse?” she pleaded.

  “You could assure Matron this was an exceptional case. I wouldn’t do anything like that again...”

  “Leave it with me, will you, Nurse Bell,” Monica suggested, rising. “I’ll think about it... and about an idea I had the other day. Between us we can sort out something acceptable to everybody! We don’t want to lose you to any other hospital, or to be ill again, do we?” And with that Hilary had to remain contented.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Monica Dawson was very thoughtful for the remainder of the afternoon. She was off duty and eventually decided to telephone her brother at Vale’s Department Store, the major store in the small town.