Authors: Elizabeth Gilzean
She stared at him in startled wonder but he only laughed.
“I
’
ve not gone crazy. I mean it. Come on. There
’
s a raincoat in the car you can shove over your uniform and you can hide your cap. Okay?”
Sally knew it was quite mad but she didn
’
t care. They crept down the fire stairs hand in hand and dashed across the courtyard—while the gate porter was fussing over two ambulances—to where the long red car was parked.
“Park your cap on the back seat and keep your head down until we
’
ve got past the guy,” John instructed her.
Sally obeyed and as she crouched down she could see a tall figure standing at an upper corridor window looking in their direction. Probably it was George, and for a moment she was unhappy about
it ...
he would be wondering what she was up to. And then she felt defiant. He wasn
’
t her keeper
or ... anything...
John was swinging the long red car away from the hospital, away from the main road where early morning traffic was already building up into an impatient line-up.
“You can sit up now. Warm enough? There
’
s a rug in the back if you
’
re cold.”
“I
’
m fine, thanks. Where are we going and have you really got a high hill hidden away?” The wind was whipping at her cheeks and already Sally felt she was miles from the hospital and the chains of its routine.
“You bet I have. Found it the other day when I got myself lost. It
’
s down Croydon way.”
“You
’
ll never get there at this hour with all that traffic on the roads,” Sally said flatly.
“Won
’
t I just! I
’
ve got a neat little back street route all mapped out. I never could get to understand why motorists in this country stick so hard to the main roads. Me? I like to get off the beaten track.”
After a few turns Sally was completely lost. John was whipping around corners, down little side streets where women were washing their front doorsteps or children were playing a final game before going off to school, past small general shops where the owners were taking down the shutters, past old pubs that had served the villages now swallowed up by London
’
s sprawl, past the fringe of new factories whose many windows caught the glint of early morning sunshine, and down country lanes that had somehow become surrounded when the planners had built for the city
’
s overflow. At last Sally could see wide expanses of blue sky.
“Not long now, honey ... just a few zooms along this narrow road and say a little prayer that we meet nothing. It
’
s a long way to reverse this car. I should have believed what the guys told me about English roads and bought me a sports roadster. I thought they were selling me a tall story, but for once they didn
’
t exaggerate one single iota.”
They were climbing now between tall green hedges, gay with wild roses and sweet with the heavy scent of honeysuckle, and then they emerged suddenly on to a wild common where gorse bloomed and narrow paths ran in all directions through the heather, and above them was a high-flung outcrop of rock—gray against the blue of the sky.
“Out you get, Sally. You
’
ve got to earn the last bit and walk it, or rather climb it. Then you
’
ll be queen of the castle.”
Sally was caught up in the thrust of his enthusiasm and she hitched up the raincoat so she wouldn
’
t trip. They ran like children across the common, and small birds flew up from around their feet. The song of the larks fell pleasantly on their ears.
“No wonder the guy Shelley said nice things about those little birds. Ours are much bigger—like a thrush—and have a yellow breast with a black
‘
V.
’
Meadow larks we call them.”
“They sound prettier than ours,” Sally said breathlessly as they came to a standstill. “Have we really got to climb that?”
“It
’
s not as tough as it looks. I
’
ll go first and yank you up the bad parts.”
It was struggle full of laughter and gay insults before they at last stood on the top of the rock and Sally sank gratefully down on the rough ledge. Below them lay surge upon surge of green grassy downs, and here and there lanes ran across between the darker green hedges like a handful of ribbons flung down carelessly by a child. Oak trees gave shelter to the grazing herds. It was wild and empty and so peaceful and only the distant smoke haze hinted at the busy city beyond.
“Thirty miles from London and not one of her teeming millions
in sight. Makes
you think, doesn
’
t it?” John settled himself comfortably against the rock behind Sally. “I wonder how many Londoners know about it?”
“Not many ... they prefer the company of their own kind. You can
’
t be lonely in a crowd is their argument, but they would be ... here.”
“What about you, Sally? Do you like crowds?”
“I like people and it doesn
’
t matter whether they
’
re in a crowd or not. But I like this, too. You need to get away sometimes, especially from hospital life where—”
“—the walls seem too high, sometimes, and you can
’
t see over the top. I guess I know the feeling all too well, and when it gets too bad I light out for the places where you can look down on things and get them and people back into
perspective ...
like this morning.” He got to his feet suddenly and held out his hands. “Come on, Sally. Today
’
s not the day for lingering. I
’
ve got my clinic and you
’
ve got your bed ... and they
’
ll both be waiting.” He pulled her to her feet with such force that she overbalanced and for a moment she rested against him and it was pleasant and yet disturbing. His hands were warm on her arms and he gave her a little shake.
“Come on, honey, or I
’
ll be thinking thoughts I shouldn
’
t.” And the moment had gone like a cloud across the sun, but the memory lingered like the flavor of honey. They were both very quiet on the journey back.
“Guess I
’
d better drop you off around the corner, Sally. Some of your pals might like to make something out of this. Okay?”
Sally roused herself. She was so nearly asleep—doped with the fresh air, the morning sunshine, and a mixture of sensations still too fleeting for identification
...
“Yes, thanks. That will be fine ... here will do.”
She had slipped out of the raincoat and was fumbling with the pins of her cap when John put out a hand and stroked her cheek very gently.
“Sweet dreams, dear princess. See you later.”
Then she was standing on the pavement clutching her cloak around her and the red car was vanishing around the corner and the quiet square that the nurses
’
home overlooked was empty again. Sally took a deep breath and tried to restore her feeling to some sort of order, but she was too weary to try very hard and it was in a daze that she stumbled up the steps into the dark coolness of the nurses
’
home and on up the stairs, completely unaware of anyone she passed. She was seeing a tall figure outlined against the morning sky, his fair hair shining like a cap of silvery gold as he bent his head, his eyes so blue and so kind, and his hands warm on
her arms...
Sally fell into her bed. It seemed that she had only closed her eyes—she scarcely remembered taking off her clothes—when the alarm clock shrilled its warning note in her ear. As she reached out a hand to silence its clamor she heard someone tapping on her door.
“Come in,” she said sleepily.
It was the home sister who opened the door. She stood worriedly on the threshold. “I didn
’
t want to waken you, but I thought you
’
d better have the message and then I heard your alarm.”
Sally sat up on one elbow and smiled at the white-haired woman. “It
’
s all right, Sister dear. I
’
d have to go through the agony of waking up soon anyway. What
’
s the message? Has my last and best boyfriend decided to fling me over because I
’
m stuck on nights?”
The home sister looked even more concerned. “Would he really do a thing like that, Nurse Conway? Oh dear, I
am sorry...”
S
ally laughed. “Sister dear, you
’
ll never change! I haven
’
t got a boyfriend so there
’
s no need to worry. Now, let
’
s have the message. Is it from home?”
“No, it isn
’
t. Were you expecting one? This one
’
s from Matron and she would like to see you before you go on duty, please.”
Sally shot up in bed, very wide awake now. “What does she want me for? Did she sound cross? What did she say?”
The home sister smiled reassuringly at Sally. “I can
’
t tell you
even if I knew. It was Matron
’
s secretary who phoned and she sounded every bit as harassed as usual. It
’
s probably about holidays or something. It
’
s not likely that you
’
ve done anything
very dreadful...”
“It can
’
t be about holidays because she
’
s already seen me about that, and if it weren
’
t anything serious she would see me in the morning after breakfast. It can
’
t be the dirty linen and the dirty crocks because the theater super has already given me blazes about that. The mops were all correct and the drugs were signed
for and...”
Sally went on relentlessly prodding her memory.
“Stop it, Nurse Conway,” the home sister said sharply, “or you won
’
t be fit for duty tonight.”
“I probably won
’
t be allowed to go on duty tonight if it
’
s as bad as it sounds,” Sally said gloomily.
“Silly girl! Go and make yourself a cup of tea and that will cheer you up.”
“I prefer coffee,” Sally murmured half to herself.
“Have coffee
then ...
there should be some left. I put some on this morning.”
“Bless you, Sister dear, for trying to cheer me up. I
’
ll stop worrying this very minute.”
Sally resigned herself to watching the hour that was left go by. The staff nurses
’
sitting room was empty ... all her friends were either on duty, out, or still asleep. She didn
’
t want to watch TV or to listen to the radio and she had finished reading her library books, and the magazines were old ones and someone had taken away the daily paper in direct contravention of the rule that it should remain until the following morning
...
At last the clock said seven and Sally adjusted the last fold of her faultlessly ironed apron and took her place in line outside the Matron
’
s door. Two were night nurses who were due to go on holiday in the morning and as their trains left early, were reporting off nights ahead of time. She knew they wouldn
’
t be long. The other woman Sally knew only by sight, and as she was senior to Sally they contented themselves with an exchange of nervous smiles. They could hear the faint drone of voices as the day reports from the wards were given to the night sister and her deputy. It wasn
’
t visiting night so the front hall was empty of its usual waiting throng and there was only the distant click and buzz of the switchboard as the operator dealt with a busy stream of calls. Bill wouldn
’
t be on until nine so she couldn
’
t slip across and find out if he had picked up any clue as to why Matron wanted to see her. A scrape of chairs warned them that the night staff had finished. The two juniors adjusted their aprons anxiously and Sally felt her mouth go dry. It wasn
’
t that Matron was a tyrant
or anything ...
it was merely the system she represented ... and her decision was so
final...
At last it was her turn to get ready to push the buzzer. The door was opening and the nurse was backing out.