Nurse Jess (21 page)

Read Nurse Jess Online

Authors: Joyce Dingwell

Tags: #Harlequin Romance 1959


It was to be. I

m sorry. I didn

t intend to put you on trial. Blame
—Barry
for that.

The pause before the cold emphasis on the name was intentional. You snob, thought Jessa, you might be a great doctor, but the greatest doctor on earth is a big step down the ladder of life from an innocent, helpless little babe.


However,

resumed the Professor glibly,

I must make up the tea deficiency at once. Come, Nurse Jess.

At her hesitation he added,

The pier cafe is a family restaurant. I assure you we would look more odd without a baby.

He helped her out.

Barry was unsettled and had no intention evidently of suffering in silence. He subsided a little as Jessa carried him to a seat at a marble-topped table, but the moment she sat down he yelled again.

The waitress approached and smiled on the three of them.


New baby,

she said sympathetically.

Takes you a while to get the knack, doesn

t it? Don

t worry, love, he

ll be as easy to manage as his dad in no time.

She winked across at the Professor.


Here,

she said,

give Junior to me while you and your hubby decide what you want. Come on, Bubbles, goochi, goochi, goo.

She bore him into the kitchen with her.

Miraculously Barry

s howls ceased.

The tea was strong and hot the way she preferred it, the scones had wings and she had always liked strawberry jam, but Jessa tasted nothing. She ate and drank and said,

Yes

...

No

...

Really

.
.
. at regular intervals—and never once looked up.

She was glad when it was all over and she was bearing her baby back again to the car.

They returned to Belinda in comparative silence.

As the Professor had said, no one had touched the pram. He got out and reversed its direction for her, and Jessa put Barry in, said a muffled,

Thank you for the tea,

then added a rather mutinous

sir.

Coldly, as from a long way off, the Professor answered,

That

s quite all right, Nurse.

She reached Belinda with five minutes to spare.

Nurse Gwen grabbed Barry from her and began to feed him. Barry promptly bubbled it all back. Nurse Gwen glared at Jessa.


He
always
takes his food. Surely, Nurse, you haven

t given him an in-between?


Of course not
—”
began Jessa, then she remembered the
pier waitress and how suddenly Barry

s cries had ceased.

She saw Nurse Gwen

s horrified eyes upon her, mumbled something incoherent about having left the pram in the corridor where someone might trip over it, and fled.

 

CHAPTER XV

MARGARET and Jessa began work together the next morning. By some coincidence the colours of their uniforms were the same colours they had chosen for their inauguration. Jessa recalled that silly habit of hers of rhyming, and how she had coupled pink with Gink. All that, of course, had been before she had discovered whom Professor Gink was. As she ate her breakfast she thought to herself,

Did I really exist prior to the Professor? Sometimes I feel I only started to live when I met him.

As though caught out in a secret disloyalty to Meggy, she tucked her arm in hers as they climbed the stairs to Three Ward. Margaret gave back her sweet serene smile.

The companionship of the moment was spoiled somewhat by the discovery that a staff of three was to manage Three Ward and that Nurse Gwen comprised the third. The fact that Nurse Gwen was about as enthusiastic over the roster as Jessa was did not improve matters. As usual it fell to Margaret to provide the balm. She smiled to Gwen and said,

How nice to have you.

Jessa said,

Humph.

Nurse Gwen said nothing at all.

Gainsborough was introduced. He was asleep, but kindly obliged by waking up long enough for Jessa to be shown his blue, blue eyes. Jessa was enchanted and hovered delightedly over him until brought back to
earth
by an irate Nurse Gwen.


Really, Nurse, there is enough work in this ward for six, let alone only two.


Two?


Myself and Nurse Margaret.


Oh,

said Jessa.

She felt that in Nurse Gwen

s plaice she would have hesitated to criticize a senior, but Nurse Gwen was very sure of herself, she had trained in a very exclusive and expensive private hospital, and it had succeeded in giving her some very definite ideas.

Margaret, hoping to spread more balm, said pleasantly,

I think we must forgive her, Nurse Gwen. Gainsborough
is
a darling, isn

t he?


The infant

s name is John Shaw,

said Nurse Gwen bleakly, and then, unable to keep her beliefs to herself and hoping to find a sympathetic listener in Margaret,

His father is an umbrella mender. Really, I don

t think Matron Martha should.


Should what?

asked Margaret mildly, beginning to take the labelled bottles out of the sterilizer.


Mix the infants. You see that Quentin infant


You mean young Slapsie,

put in Jessa knowledgeably, for the baby indicated was obviously a fitting successor to Bruiser, Bouncer and Southpaw, so had been promptly and aptly named.

Margaret said amicably,

Gerald Quentin, Nurse Gwen.

Nurse Gwen who had raised her brows at Jessa now nodded to Margaret.


His father,

she said importantly,

is a judge.


So what?

put in Jessa, but Nurse Gwen ignored her completely.


At the Carabelle Garden Infirmary,

she said,

that
couldn

t have happened.

Margaret, seeing Jessa open her mouth to deliver another impertinence, intervened hurriedly,

Of course, I recall now, you trained at Carabelle, Nurse Gwen.


I was the only trainee. They don

t do it as a
rule
. Just accept one or so like colleges accept bursars. Naturally, as with a bursar, you have to convince them first you have the ability.


Didn

t any others apply, or what?

asked Jess pertly.

Margaret said hurriedly again,

It must have been very nice at Carabelle.


Oh, it was, Nurse Margaret.

Gwen sighed.

You should have seen the names on the register. All social folk. And their visitors!

Another sigh.

Jessa picked up Gainsborough to oil and lanolin him. She sang softly, but not so softly that Nurse Gwen could not hear, the Umbrella Song.

However, for all her snobbishness Nurse Gwen was a good worker. By the time Matron Martha came round for inspection the three had got down to it and cleared up all their tasks. The babies were washed, fed, diapered, cribbed, special treatments given, the ward tidied, little outstanding jobs like sewing, filing, bringing records up to date completed even to satisfy Matron

s demands.

There was a fairly constant stream of visitors during the afternoon. With these Jessa felt that Great Southern emerged with more to its credit than Carabelle. Poor Nurse Gwen simply could not help herself being influenced by a name, a profession, a background. When these did not suit her she found it impossible to unbend.

She was not unkind, but she stood stiffly by the crib and answered questions very briefly.

Margaret, as always, was sweet and helpful, and Jessa, of course, was borne along on her own bubbling enthusiasm.


Are you Mr. Montrose? Then you

ve come to see Hoppo. Hop-o-my-thumb we call him, but actually compared to some of our
really
tinies, he

s a monster. Wake up, Hoppo, here

s your dad.

She assured Mrs. Smyth that her Janice Elissa was a regular plum pudding, and as such would be as easy to manipulate when she got her home as a piece of cake.

Nurse Gwen, conducting Mr. Felix to see small Leonard Oswald, looked aghast, but Mrs. Smyth looked considerably cheered instead and laughed.


Yes, I have got my bill of fare mixed,

admitted Jessa.

She adored this part of her job. She loved assuring nervous parents that the future handling of their tiny babies
would n
o
t be the nightmare they anticipated.


I tell you,

she impressed upon them,

they

re tough.


I do think,

said Nurse Gwen during a lull,

that you could use the word
robust,
Nurse.


Do you, Nurse?

grinned back Jessa.

After the tea break Sister Valerie tapped on the glass window and beckoned Jessa into the corridor.

Man to see you,

she smiled.

Jessa thought at one of the Professor. How often had she met him in the long corridor? But of course the Professor had no need to have someone tap on
a
window. He had an Open Sesame here at Belinda. When she
c
ame out she could see no man, only a smiling and somehow familiar woman holding a large and bouncing baby.


You don

t remember me,

said the woman,

and I certainly can

t blame you for not remembering David.


David...

said Jessa slowly, thoughtfully.

You don

t mean—why, you don

t mean the Bruiser?

She clapped her hand over her mouth. Mrs. Talbot had taken exception to that, she recalled.

But Mrs. Talbot was all smiles now.

You have to live and learn,

she admitted ruefully.

Look at the size of him, and he

s such a bully.


Didn

t I warn you?

laughed Jessa, gazing at the big boy with admiration.

Didn

t I say he

d order you about.


He would if I

d let him. You know I can

t imagine he

s the same baby. It

s miraculous the way they pick up. When I think of him in that funny little cap the sister put on him

Jessa said loyally,

I bet it was the only one that fitted.

Mrs. Talbot said, rather ashamed,

Yes, it was.


I just thought I

d bring Davey in for you to see,

went on Mrs. Talbot,

and at the same time offer my services for the Fete. You saved my baby here for me, Nurse, and I feel it

s the least I can do. Anyway, I

m so enthusiastic over Belinda I

d even put David on show if you like with a sandwich board round him saying

WHAT BELINDA MADE OF ME.



Fete?

questioned Jessa.


And, of course,

babbled Mrs. Talbot busily,

if I can get someone to baby-sit we

ll attend the Ball as well. My dress doesn

t need much alteration, just requires to be let out here and there. I

m almost back to my old SW, Nurse. In any case we

ll buy a ticket. It

s only when things hit home to you that you realize what good works are done. A year ago I mightn

t have felt like this, but now
...

She gave her baby a proud hug.

At last she went, Jessa no more wiser over the Fete and Ball, but much wiser over David

s height, weight, appetite, his ability to clutch at a rattle, kick his plump little legs.


Did you know these festivities were afoot?

she asked of Margaret.


Certainly, Jessa, didn

t you? But then, of course, you

ve been busy on night roster. It

s splashed all over the notice
-
board. As regards the Fete, we

re all to be allotted a task.


What kind of task?

asked Jes
sa, taking up a bottle and dropper to feed Hoppo, who, in spite of her assurances to Mr. Montrose, his dad, was still a very tiny prem and only fed by drops. She hoped she would not be expected to dress dolls or make golliwogs out of old black stockings. She had never been clever with her hands.


There

s lots of jobs to be filled,

assured Margaret,

the same as at any bazaar. Hoop-la attendant, Magic Well Director, assistant at the lemonade stall, waitress at the afternoon tea, or simply collecting the entrance money at the gate or handing over the ammunition for the Aunt Sally.


And the Ball?


We

ll know about that later. It comes after the Fete. In fact, I believe it

s a sort of climax.

Margaret looked down on Gainsborough whom she was feeding, and coaxed,

Honey, do eat up big and grow a strong man for your dad.


Is that dad the umbrella man or the judge?

Jessa could not resist, one sharp eye on Nurse Gwen.

As they went down to tea Margaret drew Jessa

s attention to the notices announcing the Fete, and also announcing that Matron Martha would be allotting all staff not engaged that day on ward duty a task.

There was also a new notice, Margaret discovered, demanding staff

s presence to a Fete meeting in the second hall at seven sharp.

The girls ate their meal with much speculative chatter, feeling rather excited at this diversion in their usual routine.

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