A Nurse's Duty (12 page)

‘I asked if Mr Richardson would baptize the baby,’ whispered Kezia. ‘He’s friendly with the new Minister, you know, and we all liked him when he was here.’

‘Oh, yes,’ Karen said absently as they took their seats at the front of the congregation. She was concentrating on holding the baby correctly and at the same time enjoying the sensation of having the tiny new life in her arms.

The service went well, Young Luke sleeping through the whole of it, and it wasn’t until afterwards when friends were crowding round to coo over the baby that Karen looked up straight into the eyes of Robert.

‘Hello, Karen,’ he said softly.

‘Oh – Robert,’ she answered, his appearance taking her by surprise though it was perfectly natural for him to come with his father.

‘I wanted to see you before you go away,’ he said. She glanced up at him. He looked pale and unhappy. The chatter and laughter of the christening party seemed to recede into the background, leaving the two of them standing alone. Karen didn’t know what to say; she had thought she had got over her feelings about him but here she was again, feeling like a guilty schoolgirl.

‘Er – it was a nice service,’ she said at last, a remark he didn’t seem to even hear. Bending his head to hers he spoke in a low, urgent tone of voice.

‘Karen, I wanted to say I’m sorry if I made you unhappy. I thought about it afterwards and I realize you didn’t mean me any harm.’

‘Oh, no –’ she began but he was rushing on. Taking her arm, he drew her slightly away from the company.

‘Have you heard anything from Mitchell?’

Karen shook her head. ‘No, and I don’t think I will. I realize now he wanted to get away from me. He never wanted me.’ She stared down at the ground. It was a hard thing for her to admit even now, her pride was so badly dented.

‘Karen, I still care for you,’ said Robert. ‘I would wait for you. Do you know that in a few years, if you don’t hear any more from
him
, you can have him declared dead? I would wait, my dear, no matter how long it takes.’

Karen looked at him helplessly. What could she say that wouldn’t hurt him more? At that moment there was a buzz of voices. The christening party was breaking up and moving towards the door so she was saved the necessity of replying to Robert bar a quick noncommittal word.

‘Howay, Karen, it’s for you to carry the baby home,’ cried Kezia, walking over to them and depositing Young Luke in Karen’s arms before turning to Robert. ‘You’ll come back to the house with your father for a cup of tea, won’t you?’

‘It’s good of you to ask me, but I have to get back to the hospital, I’m afraid,’ he answered. ‘I should have been on my way already.’ He walked rapidly away up the row, leaving Kezia and Karen gazing after him.

‘A surgical registrar leads a busy life,’ murmured Karen and Kezia nodded, forgetting about him. But Gran had noticed and as they were walking back down Chapel Row she fell into step alongside Karen. She gazed curiously at her granddaughter.

‘You and Mr Richardson’s son were thick enough there, weren’t you? What were you talking about?’ she asked baldly.

‘Oh, it was about a patient,’ Karen answered. ‘Robert’s at the RVI, you know. I nursed some of his patients.’

‘Hmm,’ said Gran. ‘He looks as though a few home-cooked dinners would do him good, he’s that thin and pale. Mebbe he’s working too hard during the week and then having to rush back on a Sunday night, like.’

‘You can’t just leave patients because it’s Sunday, Gran,’ Karen pointed out.

‘No, I know that.’ She was quiet for a few moments before startling Karen with her next remark. ‘Well, I don’t think it’s just overwork that’s the matter with him. I think he looks like a lad who’s in love – and not happily at that.’

Chapter Six

‘ROBERT!’ CRIED KAREN
. ‘I thought you were in Africa!’

They stared at each other for a minute in the half-dark of the November afternoon, busy crowds of shoppers swirling round them. She was unable to take her eyes from him, he looked so ill, his skin a parchment yellow and his eyes sunk into his head. But his smile was as warm and bright as it had ever been as he took her hand in his. His own hand felt hot and dry and bonier somehow, so that she felt a spasm of anxiety for him.

‘I’ve been back for a few weeks now,’ he said. ‘Oh, Karen, it is good to see you. What a good thing I decided to come into Bishop Auckland this afternoon. But I understood you were having a great career in Essex? That’s what Father said. And here you are, back again.’

‘Robert, are you all right?’ she couldn’t help herself asking, hardly hearing what he was saying she was so disturbed by his appearance.

‘Oh, yes, I am now. Take no notice of how I look. I know I’m enough to frighten the children at the moment but I’ll improve now I’m back. I’m all the better for seeing you, Karen, it’s as good as a tonic.’

‘Robert?’

For the first time, Karen realized there was someone with him. Another man moved forward, smiling politely, and Karen noticed he wore a clerical collar. In the split second before Robert apologized and introduced them, Karen noticed that there was a similarity between the two men, though she couldn’t put her finger on what it was. It certainly wasn’t physical, for the stranger was
shorter
than Robert and fairly ordinary-looking. She dismissed the fancy from her mind as they shook hands.

‘This is Father Donelly, Karen, a great friend of mine. We met in Africa. Sean, meet Sister Knight. Karen and I are old friends.’

Robert beamed at them both but Karen was still watching him closely. Oh dear, he didn’t look at all well.

‘I didn’t expect you to come home so soon, Robert,’ she said, trying to cover up her worry at seeing him look so ill.

He pulled a wry face. ‘No, I didn’t expect to be back either. Look, let’s go into the tea-room at the Co-op and talk over a cup of tea. We can tell each other everything that has happened since we saw each other.’

‘Look, I’ll be off now, you two don’t want me with –’

‘Nonsense,’ Robert interrupted the priest. ‘We’ll all go in and have a cup of tea and a warm. I know you’re not in a hurry, Sean, come on now.’ He took Karen’s arm in one hand and Sean’s in the other and marched them into the tea-room.

They found a corner table and Karen watched Robert covertly. He had an air of bubbly cheerfulness very different from his usual quiet manner as he caught the eye of the waitress and ordered tea and toasted teacakes.

‘Now,’ he said when their order came and Karen had poured out the tea, ‘you first. Tell me all about your work. I hear that everyone in the village is proud of the way you’ve got on. What are you doing in Auckland? You haven’t got the sack, have you?’

Karen laughed. ‘Not exactly. Just moving on – the war, you know. Next week I start a new post at a military hospital near Romford.’

‘Oh, I say, that’s good, isn’t it? Don’t you think so, Sean?’

Father Donelly nodded politely. He sat quietly, looking from Robert to herself, a slight curiosity in his eyes.

‘Well, it’s just a small hospital, converted from a manor house or some such – Greenfields is the name. I’ll be in charge during
the
nights,’ she said deprecatingly, though in fact she was quite proud of making such good progress in her career. After all, it was just about a year since she’d been promoted to Ward Sister.

‘Small or not, I’m sure you’ve done very well,’ declared Robert, and she smiled at him.

‘Greenfields in Essex?’ asked Father Donelly. ‘Is that near Romford? Do you know, I have a friend there, from my seminary days –Murphy’s his name. Isn’t that a coincidence? Perhaps you’ll meet him. If you do, mention my name.’

Robert suddenly put down his cup with a little clatter of china which made the other two glance quickly at him. He was white and trembling and a slight perspiration had broken out on his forehead.

‘Oh, Robert, there
is
something wrong,’ said Karen as he pulled out his handkerchief and wiped his face.

‘It’s this blessed malaria,’ he muttered, and smiled weakly.

‘I didn’t last long in Africa, did I, Karen? I was only out there a year when I got it and had to come home to England.’

‘Come on, I’ll drive you home,’ said Father Donelly, putting down his half eaten teacake and rising to his feet.

‘No, I’m all right now, it was only for a moment.’

And indeed Karen was pleased to see Robert’s hands had stopped trembling and a little colour was returning to his cheeks.

‘All those years of work and preparation for nothing,’ he said with a trace of uncharacteristic bitterness. ‘All my life I was going to be a missionary but when it came to it I was knocked out by malaria.’

‘A particularly virulent strain of malaria, Robert,’ Father Donelly pointed out gently. ‘Perhaps God wanted you to work here, among your own folk, did you think of that? And if he did, who are you to go against him?’

Karen looked from one to the other. Now she knew what the similarity was between them: they were both dedicated men,
dedicated
to God, and it was a bond which made her feel oddly left out.

‘I must go,’ she said. ‘I have shopping to do and I must get back.’

The two men got to their feet. ‘Will I see you again?’ asked Robert.

‘I go back to Essex tomorrow.’

All three walked to the door and Karen waited with Father Donelly as Robert paid the bill.

‘Don’t forget, if you see Father Murphy, tell him he owes me a letter,’ said Sean.

‘Yes, of course,’ answered Karen. ‘But I won’t be going into Romford much when I start my new job.’ They looked at Robert as he spoke to the cashier. ‘He’s been very ill, hasn’t he?’ she went on and Father Donelly nodded.

‘Yes, he has. But he will be better now he’s come home. Of course, he can’t go back to Africa. He will have to settle for a life here.’

Robert finished paying the bill and they went out into the darkening street. The gas lamps were lit and shedding pools of light on the pavement and a raw wind was blowing down from Cockton Hill.

‘Will you write to me when you get settled?’ asked Robert. Karen nodded.

‘I will, I’ll write next week. Care of the Manse, is it?’

‘Yes.’

He took her hand and she could feel him shivering in the wind.

‘You must go, Robert, it’s bad for you to be out in this weather.’

‘Yes. Come on, old man,’ said Sean firmly. ‘I’ll drive you home.’

Karen was thankful to see that the priest’s car was parked just across the street. It was an Austin 15 with a hood so Robert would be out of the wind on his ride home. She looked after them as they
started
down the street towards the marketplace. Poor Robert, she thought, I hope things go right for him soon, he deserves it. Sighing, she turned back to the shops. She wanted to buy Christmas presents for Kezia’s boys; it would be a good idea to leave them with her mother to save posting from Essex. Then all she had to do was pack her small bag ready for the journey south. The train she wanted to catch left very early in the morning but she had to settle into her new home ready for work the following day.

‘I saw Robert in Newgate Street,’ she remarked to her mother as she unloaded her basket on the kitchen table.

‘Oh, yes, I heard he had had to come home, poor lad,’ said Mrs Knight. ‘He caught some foreign disease, didn’t he?’

‘Malaria. He looks as though he’s had a bad time with it too.’

Rachel gazed at her daughter shrewdly, noting her concern for the Minister’s son. ‘I used to think he was fond of you, Karen,’ she said. ‘A bit smitten, like. Pity is you didn’t marry him instead of that –’

‘Mam! Don’t talk daft,’ Karen said sharply.

‘I was only saying,’ shrugged her mother.

‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. Well, I’d better get on with my packing, I have an early start tomorrow.’

‘Righto, pet.’

Greenfields Military Convalescent Home was too small to accommodate the nursing staff so Karen had arranged for lodgings in the village. It was already growing dark on the day following her encounter with Robert when she set out to walk from the station. She pulled her cloak around her, shivering slightly. There might not be the cold north-easters like there were at home, she mused, but the air was still damp and chill and there were wisps of fog rising in the hollows.

The walk took longer than she had remembered from the one
time
she had tackled it before so that when she finally arrived at the cottage she was cold and hungry and tired and her bag felt as though it weighed twice what it had that morning when she set out from Morton Main.

Mrs Blakey, Karen’s new landlady, flung open the door even before Karen had time to lift her hand to the knocker. Her plump face wore a smile of welcome which shone out from the gloom of the unlit passage.

‘Come away in, ducky,’ she cried, ‘and welcome. My neighbour said he would look out for you at the station but he must have missed you – he’s been back for half an hour now. I was quite worried. Never mind now, sit down by the fire and thaw yourself out. I’ve got a nice chicken in the oven all ready for our first meal together. I’m sure you could do with a good meal, coming all that way?’

All the time Mrs Blakey was talking, scarcely giving Karen time to answer, she was bustling about, taking her cloak and bag and dumping them on the hall stand then leading her into a large kitchen at the back of the house, hung with brasses which gleamed in the light from the blazing fire in the grate. Karen relaxed as the heat from the fire hit her. This kitchen might be very different from the one in Chapel Street but it had the same warm, welcoming atmosphere. She could be happy here, she thought.

‘You’re very kind, Mrs Blakey.’

‘No, no, you must call me Annie,’ she cried as she lifted from the oven a golden chicken surrounded by roast potatoes.

‘Oh, it smells gorgeous,’ gasped Karen. ‘We only have chicken at Christmas at home, though my gran has a small-holding on the moor and sometimes she brings us a boiling fowl. Do you know, you remind me of my gran somehow, even though she’s small and thin.’

‘I’ll take that as a compliment,’ beamed Annie, and the tone was set for their relationship. By the end of the evening the two
women
were calling each other by their first names. Annie told Karen how she was running the farm on her own while her two sons were away at the war, and Karen told Annie all about her brother Joe who was in the army too.