“Of course. In any case, I haven’t got very much alternative.” He bent over the patient. “I shall leave you in good hands, Mr. Tremarth, but to-morrow I’ll have to get you moved. You should be quite comfortable on this couch – ” he glanced at Charlotte – ” with some blankets and pillows and things. And now, if you feel up to it, I’ll have a go at that arm.”
Charlotte withdrew hurriedly in response to a meaningful look from Hannah, and while the mistress of the house rushed round collecting blankets and an eiderdown from the spare room that had luckily been given a thorough airing and spring-cleaning that day Hannah lent her assistance to the local practitioner, whose name was James Mackay.
The fact that he had red hair and one or two freckles indicated that he was very Scottish; and by the time the minor operation on the arm was over Hannah was of the opinion that he was also a very good doctor.
Charlotte set milk boiling on the kitchen stove for no reason that she could think of – except that they might all require a hot drink before the evening was over – and carried hot water- bottles as well as the blankets to the door of the drawing-room. She hesitated outside it for a full half minute, but when no sound reached her ears from within she opened the door a mere crack and peeped inside.
The patient appeared to be resting quietly on the couch, and Hannah and the doctor were over by the window, talking earnestly. Charlotte crept towards the couch and was relieved to discover that Tremarth’s colour was distinctly better than it had been when she left the room, and although his eyes were closed he opened them immediately as she drew near.
“Thanks, Nurse,” he whispered with a very faint twinkle in the darkly grey eyes. “You may not be even partially qualified like your friend, but you did just as good a job to-night. And I seem to have taken possession of your house whether you will or not! ”
She slipped a pillow under his head and covered him with the eiderdown, and it was obvious that he was very drowsy, for he settled down immediately and appeared to slip away into slumber.
Hannah came across to her and spoke softly. “He’s had an injection, so he should sleep, but of course I’ll stay with him throughout the night. Dr. Mackay thinks you ought to go to bed and behave normally, but you can relieve me in time to have a bath in the morning. It might be a good idea if we offered the doctor some coffee before he leaves.” “Of course.” Charlotte was only too eager to do something practical, and having switched on the powerful electric fire to increase the temperature for the patient, and tucked in an end of one of his blankets, there didn’t seem much more she could do. So she departed hurriedly once more to the kitchen, made the coffee and brought it back to the drawing room.
Hannah, she realised, had changed perceptibly in the course of the last hour. The only things that were missing were a crisp cap and apron as she stood talking quietly to the doctor, and Charlotte found herself marvelling that she had ever felt the urge to abandon the profession of nursing. Her professionalism must have impressed Dr. Mackay, for he seemed to forget that she was not even qualified and appeared to have few qualms at the idea of leaving her in full charge of the patient. Just before he took his departure after hurriedly swallowing his coffee he said as he might have said to a nurse at the local hospitaclass="underline"
“Very well, Nurse, I’ll leave you to take over now and make him my first call in the morning. But of course, if you’re at all alarmed about him in the night you mustn’t hesitate to get in touch with me. However, I don’t think he’ll give you much trouble. He’s pretty tough, and lucky to be alive, anyway! ”
He nodded goodnight to her, and Charlotte accompanied him out into the hall.
“I’ll get in touch with the police,” he told her. “I should have done so before, but the patient had to come first. In any case, there’s nothing they can do about the wreck of that car. I suppose the landlord at the Three Sailors will have his home address?”
“Yes,” Charlotte answered, and that set her wondering whether there was anyone who ought to be informed about the accident – anyone who might be closely concerned because of it. She knew very well that Richard Tremarth had no parents, and somehow she had assumed he was without a wife. But there could be a fiancee, or even
– she couldn’t dismiss it – a wife!
She was feeling very thoughtful when she returned to the drawingroom. Hannah had poured herself another cup of coffee, and was sipping it in front of the glowing electric fire. Despite the fact that it was summer time the cold sea mist had lowered the temperature dramatically, and the long drawing-room, with its big windows overlooking the sea, was only just beginning to feel warm and comfortable.
Hannah nodded at an armchair she had drawn close to the patient.
“I’ll settle myself there,” she said. “Fortunately, I’m pretty good at keeping awake when it’s necessary, and I don’t think there’s much danger of my falling asleep. But just in case I grow drowsy I’ll read a book.”
“Can’t I take over half way through the night?” Charlotte suggested.
“No.” Hannah shook her head. “I promised the doctor I’d be on hand just in case – well, just in case, you know! ”
“But he’s not badly injured, is he?” Charlotte whispered, with a sudden extraordinary amount of fear in her voice as she moved nearer to the couch.
Hannah’s reply was almost as non-committal as the doctor’s would have been.
“We don’t think so, but that was a ghastly crash he was involved in. I’ll never forget the startling explosion when that petrol tank blew up!”
Charlotte stood looking down at the finely-drawn face on her immaculate pillows.
“I do hope you and Dr. Mackay are right,” she barely breathed. “I hope he’s not badly hurt! ”
Hannah flickered a somewhat surprised glance at her.
“It’s strange, isn’t it,” she mused, “that only an hour or so ago we were talking about him? At that stage I don’t think it would have hurt you very much if you’d heard that he’d jumped into the sea! ”
Then she smiled unexpectedly.
“Do you remember what we were talking about only yesterday? About the nursing-home,
I mean. Well, we’ve got our first patient! ”
CHAPTER IV
CHARLOTTE found it impossible to sleep once she retired to bed. For one thing, she had neglected to provide herself with a hot-water bottle, and almost certainly her experiences of the evening had been a shock to her, and in a sense she was suffering from shock.
She felt chilled, and unable to get warm, and her brain was so alert that sleep, she was sure, would evade her altogether until dawn broke. And as soon as it was dawn she must make absolutely certain that Hannah was relieved.
But long before dawn cast a pearly light across the sea she had left her bed and paid two stealthy trips downstairs to ascertain whether everything was all right in the drawing room. Opening the door without disturbing Hannah, she saw that the patient was undisturbed on the couch, and Hannah was sitting under the standard lamp with a neglected book open on her lap.
Charlotte stole back to bed, and ten minutes later decided to get up and dress and go down to the kitchen and make some tea. She had pulled a warm sweater over her head as an accompaniment to a pair of slacks, sponged her face and hurriedly combed her hair, and was creeping along the corridor towards the head of the stairs when a moving shadow in a doorway attracted her attention, and to her horror she saw in the dim light a tall figure swaying precariously and holding on to the jamb of the door at the same time.
Charlotte fairly raced to his side, and managed to prevent him slipping in a crumpled heap to the floor.
“What on earth are you doing?” she demanded in tones of the utmost horror. “How on earth did you get up the stairs?”