Damsel In Green. Betty Neels

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СКАЧАТЬ brushed back from a high wide forehead, a patrician nose, and a mouth that looked kind. She couldn’t see the colour of his eyes, but she thought that they were blue—they were staring at her now, and she made haste to say something.

      ‘Is this moppet yours? If you wouldn’t mind going to the cubicle at the end, the Casualty Officer is there—I’m sure he wouldn’t mind you calling in to see her.’ She smiled kindly at him. ‘She’s not too bad, although she looks … The boy, is he yours too?’

      He smiled faintly. ‘Yes, Staff Nurse, they’re—mine.’ He had a deep voice, but she had expected that; any other would have sounded absurd coming from the great chest. ‘I’ve seen the Casualty Officer. May I come in?’

      He suited the action to the word and went to stand by the couch. But he didn’t just stand; he raised the child’s eyelids to test for pupil reaction, examined the small ears and nose carefully and took her pulse. ‘Has she been conscious at all?’ he wanted to know.

      Georgina said, ‘Yes, twice, for a few moments,’ and stopped, astonished at herself. The man was a stranger and she was meekly answering his questions just as though he was one of the hospital doctors. She shot him a look of mingled annoyance and perplexity which she was sure he didn’t see. Apparently he had eyes at the back of his head as well, for he said apologetically, ‘I’m sorry. You’re quite right to be vexed with me. I should have said that I am a doctor. Your excellent young man here suggested that I might like to stitch Beatrix while we wait for Mr Sawbridge’s verdict.’ He straightened, missing the ceiling by an inch or so. ‘He will—er—vouch for me if you would care to ask him.’

      She hesitated. It didn’t occur to her to doubt him; he wasn’t that kind of a man. Indeed, she was struck by the thought that she had met him a bare five minutes ago, and on the strength of this short acquaintance was quite prepared to take his word on anything. All the same, perhaps she should ask his name. She was saved from making up her mind about this by Ned, who put his head round the curtain. He took no notice of her at all, but said with marked politeness:

      ‘Mr Sawbridge has just arrived, sir, if you’d care to see him? I could be having a quick dek—er—look at the little girl in the meantime.’

      The big man nodded. When he had gone and Ned had started a careful examination, Georgina burst out, ‘Ned, for heaven’s sake, why are you so polite? Who is he?’ She passed him the ophthalmoscope. ‘Her blood pressure’s normal—her pulse is a bit fast too—a hundred and twelve, but nice volume. Who is he?’ she repeated.

      Ned gave her back the ophthalmoscope and took the auroscope she was holding out. He peered down it and muttered, ‘Can’t see anything much wrong—better have her X-rayed, though, when she’s stitched. He’ll do it I expect, while the boy’s in X-Ray.’

      ‘Who’s he?’ Georgina tried again. She was used to doctors, who tended to get away from the point.

      ‘George, don’t you ever read those nursing papers of yours, or listen to the grapevine? He’s been here several times. He lectures us—he goes to most of the teaching hospitals. He’s Professor van den Berg Eyffert.’

      She opened her pretty brown eyes wide. ‘What a name! Not English, surely. What’s he professor of?’

      Ned frowned. ‘Your grammar’s a bit sloppy, isn’t it, old lady? Anaesthetics. Right in the front row, he is. Knows all the answers.’ He went to the door. ‘I’m going to X-Ray to look at that clavicle.’

      He went, and the big man came back. He said nothing about the little boy, merely, ‘Shall we start, Staff Nurse?’

      He took off his coat and white scarf, and stood in all the magnificence of white tie and tails, looking for somewhere to put them. Georgina took them from him and hung them behind the door, and his tail coat too while he rolled up his shirt sleeves. He was almost ready when she said hastily, ‘Before you start, sir, would you like me to send a message to your wife? I can telephone her … you could speak to her.’

      He looked as though he was going to smile, but he answered gravely, ‘Thank you, but I have no wife.’

      ‘Oh, how awful for you—I am sorry,’ said Georgina, and went scarlet. Would she never learn to think before she spoke? she thought remorsefully, and plunged deeper. ‘I mean—it’s horrid for children when something like this happens, and there’s no mo …’ she stopped again, and met his eyes watching her quizzically from the other side of the trolley.

      ‘The young man with them—is he yours too?’

      This time he did smile. ‘Yes, more or less. A cousin. I have seen him in X-Ray.’ He looked suddenly forbidding. Perhaps, thought Georgina, it would be a good idea not to ask him any more questions.

      ‘Shall I hold her in my arms in case she comes round?’ she asked. ‘If I sit on the side of the couch with her head over my arm—there’s a stool you could use, otherwise your back will ache,’ she added in a practical voice.

      He did as she suggested and started to stitch. Two of the cuts had been closed when the little girl began to whimper, and they waited without speaking until she opened her eyes. Georgina said at once:

      ‘Hullo, Beatrix.’

      The child looked at her for a long moment. ‘Who are you, please?’

      ‘Oh, a nurse,’ said Georgina, and turned herself round so that her patient could see the man on the stool. The small face lighted up.

      ‘Cousin Julius! I knew you’d come!’ She started to smile and then, because her scratched face was sore and stiff, began to cry instead. Georgina held her close, murmuring comfort, while the man sat impassive, showing no impatience. In a minute or two, Georgina produced a hanky to mop the large blue eyes and said firmly:

      ‘Hush now! If we tell you what has to be done to make your head better, will you be a brave girl while it’s done?’

      She didn’t wait for an answer but waited for Professor Eyffert to explain. He said gently, ‘You’ve cut your head, Beatrix, and I’m stitching the cuts together again. I shall have to prick you once or twice and we don’t mind if you want to cry; only stay still on Nurse’s lap.’

      She was sleepy again. She murmured, ‘Yes, Cousin Julius,’ and made no demur when he picked up the syringe again. He had almost finished when she said:

      ‘I know you’re a nurse, but what’s your name?’

      ‘Georgina,’ said Georgina.

      The child repeated it. ‘That’s a nice name. Does everyone call you that?’

      ‘Well, no, not always.’

      ‘What?’ the small voice was persistent.

      ‘Actually,’ said Georgina, ‘I get called George.’ She felt faintly embarrassed.

      ‘I shall call you George. That is, if you don’t mind? I like you.’

      Georgina was aware that the Professor had finished his handiwork and was just sitting on the stool, listening. She looked up and caught his eye and frowned in a repressive fashion at him because she found his presence unsettling. She said, ‘Thank you, Beatrix. I like you too,’ then laid the child gently back on to the couch, made quick work of spraying each small cut with Nebecutane and then said СКАЧАТЬ