The Surgeon Was a Lady Read online

  “Nurse, I want this patient monitored carefully. She needs special nursing. A one-to-one... do you understand?”

  “Yes doctor.”

  “Well get on with it then... and if there is any change... no matter how slight, I want to be called,” she said as she checked her watch again and left the Recovery room. “I’ll be around the hospital until about 9.0 and then I’ll be at my flat. You have my phone number, if you need me, yes?”

  “Yes doctor... it’s on the staff list in the Theatre.”

  The nurse looked again at Willie.

  “If you don’t mind my saying so, doctor... you look a little tired. Isn’t there anyone else we can call, if there is any change in your patient?”

  Willie stared at the nurse in fury, as she spoke and then it became apparent who this concerned and attentive madam was...

  You’re Mandy Burroughs... aren’t you,” she asked slowly, already knowing the answer, “Well Mandy... I do mind you saying so... The state of my health is none of your damn business. Tomorrow this lady will be out of danger, but tonight... You’ll call me at whatever time I’m needed... Do you understand?”

  Nurse Burroughs lowered her head and twisted her fingers.

  “Yes doctor... Whatever you say doctor,” she said and shuffled away, shaking her thermometer, ready for action.

  ***

  Willie quietened down a little as she made her way in the dark across the lawns to her flat. She was anxious about her patient but she was equally anxious to get her feet up and have just one small brandy, knowing that she may be called at any minute... or not at all... but she had only gone a short distance when she heard someone call out to her in the dark. She stopped suddenly and her feet sank into the dark, damp lawn as she waited to hear her caller again. Someone was coming towards her and she tightened her fists in apprehension.

  “Hi there beautiful lady... Wanna hold my hand?” Willie closed her eyes and relaxed, knowing only too well who was speaking and tired though she was, she felt an inner pleasure, despite the extravagance of his compliment.

  She turned around to face him and he gave her one of his famous grins... My gawd... she thought... this chap can grin from ear to ear and from forehead to chin... “Lovely evenin’,” he called out, “Wanna walk with me? Wanna hold my hand?”

  “Which?” she asked impishly and he raised his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders.

  “I’m not a one for order... You choose,” he said and held his hand out for her to take.

  She laughed... He was so flamboyantly refreshing and under any other circumstances she would have grabbed his hand and walked with him through the cool night air wherever he would choose to go, but even in a situation like this, she had her pride... She was a surgeon and he was a porter... and she had a patient lingering between life and death in a room not so far away. He took a few steps nearer to her and she could smell the masculine aroma of his after shave. She closed her eyes as he took her hand and allowed herself to be led away in the dark, just as the moon slipped behind a cloud, casting a pellucid appearance to tint the sky. Calmly she looked up.

  “Even the moon is at your command,” she said but Ryan ignored her fickle remark and squeezed her fingers.

  “You’re lovely... but then, you know that... don’t you?”

  “Well, you’ve told me a few times... but tell me, why are you portering at St. Mark’s anyway? You don’t look the type,” she went on and he was about to speak when she put her hand up to his mouth and silenced him. “No... don’t tell me... Let me guess. Your wealthy father wants you to rough it a bit before he hands over his millions, yes?” she retorted as Ryan shook his head and grinned.

  “Near enough,” he cried out, “Try again gorgeous...” and she closed one eye as if that would give her a clue.

  “Your waiting for the money to come through from the bank and you’re just passing the time away till the cheques are cleared, yes?” she tried again, but he continued to grin.

  “Nope... Just waitin’ for my yacht to be painted,” he giggled and she squeezed his hand...

  “You enjoy walking in the moonlight?” he asked.

  “Might do,” she answered, peering up into the sky.

  “And you like me, yes?”

  “Might do,” she said again.

  “Wanna make love?” he asked her outright and she stopped in her path as she stared into his eyes and a gust of wind, followed by a patter of raindrops blew her hair around her face.

  “You’re not backward in coming forward, are you?” she answered as she continued to walk on.

  “Oh Now... an’ I thought you were gonna say, ‘Might do’ again.”

  “Well, you were wrong then, weren’t you, big head.”

  He squeezed her hand and pulled her closer.

  “I don’t think so,” he said and stopped walking as he touched her chin with his forefinger, tipping it up so that he could kiss her lips. She did not move.

  “Do you kiss when you make love?” he asked her and his face was serious. The grin had gone.

  “Might do,” she answered and they giggled together as the moon came back from behind the clouds again.

  “There’s a stout tree over there. We could stand against it,” he said, “Or would you prefer to lie on the grass?”

  Willie gasped and stared at him, wide eyed.

  “You must be joking, Sonny... It’s soaking out here... Look!”

  She raised her foot to show him her shoe which squelched as she wiggled her toes.

  “The tree then... It has to be the tree...” he concluded, but she grabbed his arm.

  “Come to my room,” she said... and suddenly all her tiredness had left her.

  ***

  “What time is it?” Willie asked as she yawned and slid from the bed but he tried to pull her back.

  “What does it matter? I don’t have any place to go.”

  “I’m on call... stupid... What time is it? I think my watch has stopped.”

  She pulled a face as she spoke and shook her bleeper, which recorder 8.14 p.m.

  “It’s nearly ten o’clock,” he answered and threw the sheets to the bottom of the bed, lying naked and totally unconcerned.

  “Gawd. I didn’t think it was that late. I’d better call the hospital to see if everything is alright.”

  Ryan laughed as he lit a cigarette from an onyx box on the telephone table near the bed and watched her struggle into her clothes.

  “I thought you said you were off duty at 8.30?”

  “I was... I am... “ she screeched, but I left a message... Oh don’t bother... just get dressed and get the hell out of here.”

  He ignored her plea.

  “Don’t you think I’m lovely,” he asked, studying his torso with great detail and running his fingers over his tanned belly.

  “You’ll do... Now hurry up and get out.”

  She kissed his arm and stabbed the Recovery Room number into her mobile phone, but he pulled her back and the bed swayed.

  “Will you come back when you’ve spoken to them?” he asked, but already her face had gone pale.

  “What? What?... but I told you,” she screamed into the phone... “I insisted that you get in touch with me... immediately if... Oh never mind. I’ll be round there straight away.”

  “Trouble?” he asked with a dreamy look in his eyes as he waved away the smoke above his head.

  “Get dressed and get out...” she shouted, “And quickly...”

  “But I thought you liked it. I didn’t hear you complain.”

  “My phone... Something’s gone wrong with my phone. I must rush.” she cried and ran down the stairs along the lower corridor to the door leading to the lawn, pulling her cardigan over her unbuttoned blouse in her haste.

  *
**

  It was twelve minutes past ten when she arrived at the Recovery Room and Nurse Burroughs was waiting for her.

  “You should have called me. You know I left instructions to be called immediately... if anything happened.”

  Nurse Burroughs tried to explain that she had been trying to get Willie on the phone and on her bleeper for the past hour, but Willie would not hear of it.

  “I’ve been in my flat all evening, damn you,” she barked and stared at the blood soaked bandage around her patient’s head. She called for some fresh padding which she pressed firmly against the outer bandage and bound it around with added pressure to the haemorrhage, but the blood continued to seep through. She struggled in her efforts for over an hour, before she was forced to give up and the nurse took away a basin of deep red water.

  “The bleeding has stopped Doctor,” she said quietly as Willie sat back exhausted and wiped her brow with the back of her hand, leaving a pink stain on her forehead.

  “And so has her heart,” she added...

  ***

  She returned to the flat to find that Ryan had gone, leaving the bedclothes strewn across the floor and the bleeper recording a time of 8.16... Ironical, she thought as she stared at the mechanical face of the life saving instrument in her hand... Everything that had happened to her had been done in the space of two minutes... She mused as she poured herself a brandy and flopped into a chair to try and salve her conscience by telling herself that what had occurred would have happened anyway, regardless of whether she had been there or not. After all... she had been in the hospital precincts, hadn’t she... and if her bleeper had failed, that certainly was no fault of hers. Surely she could not be held responsible for a freak accident like that, but as she tried to make excuse after excuse, a thick tear rolled down her cheek and she began to feel shame. At that moment, the telephone rang.

  “Hello,” Willie’s’ voice was a little incoherent due to the brandy she had consumed. It was only then that she realized she was on her fourth glass.

  “Hello Doctor. It’s Nurse Rafferty from the Recovery Room here. I’m glad your phone is alright now. I got on to the engineers after Nurse Burroughs reported the fault and they said they would deal with it...

  “Thank you Nurse. It’s working perfectly now... I think... Just let me check” She looked at the bleeper and it recorded 8.25. “What time is it now Nurse. My bleeper is working now, but I’ll have to adjust the time.”

  “Eleven forty three to be precise, doctor... Oh and doctor...”

  “Yes... just give me a moment to correct my time... There... that’ it. Yes, what were you saying?”

  “I’ve prepared Mrs. Clarkston for the morgue and the attendants are here now. Will you write the death certificate or should I contact the Registrar?”

  Willie looked puzzled for a few seconds and rubbed her forehead.

  “Clarkston... Registrar... What are you talking about?” Willie asked and there was a long pause before Nurse Rafferty spoke again.

  “Mrs. Clarkston, Doctor... the lady who just died of the brain haemorrhage.

  Willie dropped her brandy glass to the carpet and pushed her hair behind her ear.

  “Oh yes, of course Nurse... Yes, I will make out the certificate. No need to disturb the Registrar at this time of night... Is there?”

  “Thank you Doctor. Goodnight Doctor.”

  “Goodnight Nurse... and Nurse..?”

  “Yes Doctor?”

  Willie sighed and with a hoarse voice she whispered into the phone...”Thank you,” before she filled her glass again and sat back to take stock of the events of the evening, but her mind was blurred and she found it hard to concentrate.

  Why couldn’t she even remember the woman’s name? Did she even take time to look at it on the medical chart... she asked herself and then her attention was drawn to a shining object that lay at her feet on the carpet. She picked it up, straining to see what it was and then she smiled... and the smile broke into laughter; a protracted hysterical laugh as she realized that she was holding her wedding ring. She held back a tear as she lifted the telephone from the table by the bed and made a call.

  “Hello Clemmie... Is Paul alright?... Thank you... thank you... No, I won’t be home until morning now, but thanks for staying with him. I do appreciate that and I’ll set things going so that we can arrange to have a night nurse as well... No, I know you don’t mind, but you can’t work twenty four hours a day... Yes, I know all that, but... but... but Clemmie. Just leave it until I get home, will you. Goodnight.”

  Willie had put the phoned down when she realized that she hadn’t left a message of love for her husband... but then she consoled herself by thinking that he wouldn’t know what the hell she was talking about anyway... as she stared at the ring again before she put it back on her finger.

  “Amazing what one finds in one’s bedroom,” she giggled nervously and then began to pull the sheets across the bed. Her ring had never slipped from her finger before... well, not that she could remember, but then she had never slept with Ryan whatsisname before either... She giggled again as she reflected... and a small square of folded linen fell from inside the sheets. A three inch square neatly ironed, but that had got slightly creased, with the initial ‘R’ on the corner, neatly embroidered in royal blue.

  “What will he blow his ‘ooter on tonight,” she smirked as she staggered about trying to keep her balance and get undressed. She pulled her blouse away from her shoulders and kicked off her shoes at the same time, higgledy-piggledy fashion, laughing as she did so. “Ooops! No pyjamas for you tonight, pet” she sang to the melody of a well known song, “Can’t get the bloody things on... Can we now?” she told herself and fell headlong into bed.

  She slept uneasily that night, dreaming in fits and starts... and everywhere, she could see blood. Mrs. Clarkston was screaming at her as her head bandage dangled loosely all over the floor and she shook her fists as the blood came profusely from her nose and eyes and nurse whatever her name was... the fat one with the dimples on her knees... the one that was a bit of a lesb... she was winding and rewinding bandages that were dripping in blood, smiling strangely at her as the plasma spilled from buckets all over the floor.

  Willie woke up in a cold sweat as she heard someone knocking at her door. She sat naked on the side of the bed and her head ached.

  “Who is it?” she snapped as she screwed up her face in pain and rubbed her eyes.

  “It’s me. You must want to see me again by now, eh?” Willie looked at the sky outside. It was still dark and a wind was blowing up. “Come on honey,” the voice persisted, “Let me in... It’s cold out here and I know you want me.”

  She stood up slowly and carefully with her eyes closed and with the grand daddy of all headaches, before she lit a cigarette and stood in front of her mirror.

  “Fuck orf,” she said as she picked a strand of nicotine from her dry lips and spoke in her most polite manner as she was sure that any cultured lady worth her salt, would do.

  Chapter Seven

  “Are you there, Clemmie?” Willie called out as she came through the front door, weighed down with her shopping and slammed the door closed behind her with her foot. There was no answer and she called again. “Clemmie, are you there?... It’s me,” she said, presuming that the nurse would recognise her as me... and Nurse Clements suddenly appeared from the kitchen door entrance with a large bunch of freshly picked flowers in her arms. Like Willie, she closed the door behind her, but with her rear and not with her foot.

  “Oh it’s you Madame. It’s so nice to see you. I didn’t expect you until later. I thought perhaps around lunch time... Are you alright?”

  “Yes, I’m alright... now can you take some of this lumbar from me and make a cup of tea. I’m dying of thirst. Oh those look nice. For Paul are they?”

  She eyed the flowe
rs with a warped pleasure as she hated the things.

  “Yes Madame... for your husband. He likes a few flowers, you know... and they’re from your own garden.”

  “Well, I didn’t think you’d gone to the market to get them nurse, when you came in through the kitchen door in your apron now... did I?” Willie snapped and nurse Clements cringed. She was beginning to lose her dislike of her mistress... in place of a distinct hatred. “The Lord and Master well, is he?” Willie went on and Clemmie closed her eyes in tolerance and nodded her head.

  “I’ll just take these into the lounge Madame and then I’ll make the tea.”

  Willie literally threw her parcels at the nurse and strutted into the lounge in front of her to see her husband... and of course, to wait for the tea... which should have been given priority to the bloody flowers... she concluded...

  “Hello darling... I see you’ve taken to flower arranging with little Miss Muffet here... How lovely for you,” she said as she took Paul’s hand and played nervously with his fingers, but he opened his eyes slowly and looked at her adoringly and she took her handkerchief and wiped his chin as Clemmie returned with the tea tray. “I do think you should take more care of his hygiene, nurse... Look, there’s a stain on his shirt... tea or something I think and it must be irritating for him always to have a wet chin, don’t you?”

  Clemmie smiled sweetly again, but her eyes were sad as she poured the tea.

  “When you have a moment, Madame... I would like to speak to you, please,” she said, interrupting the finger touching, most apologetically.”

  “Sure, Clemmie... I’ll just have this cuppa with Paul and then I’ll see you in the kitchen, in say... about twenty minutes. Run along now. There’s a good girl.” Willie studied her watch as she spoke,” Unless you have any more flowers to gather from my garden,” she added aggressively.