Love for the Matron (8 page)

CHAPTER FOUR

Elizabeth p
ut the phone down rather self
-
consciously. She was aware that Anthony Hingston, her senior surgeon, was regarding her thoughtfully. He was the first to speak.

“I must admit that when we decided that it might be a wise idea to have a younger Matron at St. Genevieve
’
s there was one possibility we overlooked.”

There was something in his tone that made Elizabeth flush slightly before she said, “What was that, Mr. Hingston?”

“That a younger woman might conceivably have a boy-friend ... if you
’
ll forgive the vulgar term
...
and therefore might be interested in marrying before she reached retiring age,” he ended dryly.

Elizabeth looked at him with as much coldness as she could muster. “To repeat your phrase: I
haven
’
t got a boy-friend nor am I intending to marry.”

“Does that mean that you
’
re one of these career women who puts her profession so high among her priorities that no mere man could ever tempt yo
u
to deviate to fulfil woman
’
s primary function of being a wife and a mother?” There was a suggestion of a sneer on his face, but it disappeared as he saw Elizabeth wince under the sharpness of his attack. “I
’
m sorry ... I shouldn
’
t have said that. Was there someone, then?” he a
s
ked more gently

Elizabeth nodded. “He was killed during the war,” she said very quietly.

“I should have remembered that you would have been old enough. Perhaps in a way you were luckier than you knew. You lost the man you loved, but you kept your dreams. Some of us came out of the war to discover that our dreams had no reality.” His mouth twisted wryly. “I don
’
t know why I
’
m telling you this unless to make up for my unthinking brutality. My dream died when I happened to overhear my wife tell a friend that her marriage was one of those that were dull but safe
...
Perhaps the iron entered into my soul too deeply or else I was too old to climb out of my rut, so I didn
’
t follow up the temptation to show her that another woman mightn
’
t find me either dull or safe. There were the children, too, and I love them and feel responsible for bringing them into the world.”

He glanced at Elizabeth.

“I must be more old-fashioned than I thought
...
but sometimes when I read about these sex crimes in the papers I wonder if they
’
ve been committed by poor devils whose wives have put them out to grass prematurely and the strain was too much for their slender hold on stability. Women can have an awful lot to answer for, you know, Miss Graham, and the hell of it is that half the time they
’
re unaware of what they are
doing.” He got to his feet. “
‘
Flu seems to have stranger effects than I thought. Thank you for the coffee, Matron, and remember some of what I said, but forget the rest ... I leave it to you which part that is. You
’
ll want to get back to your round.”

Elizabeth escorted him to the door and closed it behind him. For a moment she leaned her face against its cool panels until she felt calmer. What an extraordinary man Anthony Hingston was, but there had been so much sincerity behind the bitterness of his words that she couldn
’
t find the heart to resent them. She lifted her head. This would never do, and Sister Allison would be wondering why the Matron was taking so long to arrive on Men
’
s Medical.

As Elizabeth approached the little office outside Men
’
s Medical she could hear someone talking on the phone, so she walked as far as the ward door and waited for the other to finish. It was most likely Sister Allison as there was no sign of her in the main ward. She couldn
’
t help hearing the speaker
’
s final words:

“Don
’
t stick up for her, Ross. It
’
s a rotten thing to do, and Miss Brown scarcely out the door. I must go now. Someone just came in the ward. I
’
d better see who it is.”

There wasn
’
t time for Elizabeth to escape before Sister Allison came hurrying out of the office, a neat trim woman with a face as thin and bony as her body and not a grey hair escaping from under her firmly anchored cap. She gave Elizabeth a look that was more angry than respectful.

“Good morning, Matron,” she said coldly.

Elizabeth ignored the anger and smiled at St. Genevieve
’
s Senior Sister. “Good morning, Sister Allison. I
’
m sorry to be late, but I
’
m afraid that I got called away half-way through my round.”

Sister Allison gave no sign of relaxing her uncompromising attitude as she conducted Elizabeth very correctly around Men
’
s Medical. As they came out into the corridor again the older woman hesitated.

“Could I have a word with you, Matron?” she asked abruptly.

“Certainly, Sister.” Elizabeth followed her into the little office.

Sister Allison didn
’
t offer her visitor a chair. “Matron, what
’
s this I hear about my patients being shoved all around the hospital without even consulting me?” she demanded.

“The matter has scarcely got beyond the preliminary discussion stage, Sister Allison, and naturally you would be consulted. There is to be a staff meeting on Friday to work out the arrangements that will cause the least upset to all concerned when the builders start work in a fortnight
’
s time,” Elizabeth explained quietly.

“I see, but why does it have to be my ward that suffers all the upheaval, Matron?”

Elizabeth held on to the edge of her patience. “Because the new block is being put up opposite your ward, and I
’
m sure you would be the first to agree that the noise of the drills and heavy building equipment would be most disturbing to your patients, many of whom are elderly.”

“That may be, but must you make so many changes as soon as you take over St. Genevieve
’
s? It scarcely seems decent!”

Elizabeth opened her mouth to say that they weren
’
t
her
changes
...
that most of the suggested moves were in Miriam Brown
’
s handwriting among the notes in the folder she carried
...
and then she stopped. Sister Allison was in no frame of mind to be convinced, no matter how concrete the evidence, and surely as Matron she didn
’
t have to defend any actions she took
...

A nurse appeared in the doorway. “Sister, the ambulance has come for Mr. James.”

“Excuse me, Matron,” Sister Allison hurried away.

Elizabeth wasted no regrets on the subject. Sister Allison would have to learn in her own time that not all changes were for the worse. A wry smile touched her lips as she wondered what the older woman would say when it was suggested she took her holiday while the noisier part of the building was in progress.

Sister Ross was hovering suggestively as Elizabeth came back up the long corridor.

“Matron, sorry to bother you, but could I ask what
’
s going to happen when Men
’
s Medical
’
s patients are transferred to my ward?”

She didn
’
t need to say anything more, but this time Elizabeth wasn
’
t annoyed.

“I think Sister Allison would prefer not to be bothered with surgical patients, don
’
t you?” she asked tactfully. “Nothing
’
s settled yet, and the staff meeting isn
’
t until Friday.”

Sister Ross gave her a startled look and then smiled. “Thank you, Matron. I might have known that you would think of a way out
...
sorry, that sounds a bit like cheek and I don
’
t intend it to be.”

“I understand, Sister Ross. I think you can leave the situation safely with me.”

The rest of Elizabeth
’
s round passed without incident, and for that she was thankful. She was still seething inwardly over the leak of information and there was so little she could do about it. Any damage ... if one call it that
…
had already been done, Miss Selby might have said something, or it could have been William Gregory with the careful intention of preparing the ground. What a pity Miriam Brown hadn
’
t taken her senior staff more into her confidence about the prospective changes instead of leaving her successor with the onus of appearing to initiate them and bearing the blame. Perhaps she hadn
’
t realized there wouldn
’
t be time or she might have had the gift of so much of their loyalty that no murmur of disapproval would have ever arisen.

E
lizabeth was late going off for her afternoon off-duty and there wasn
’
t time to change out of her uniform, but she took off her cap and ran a comb through her hair until it fluffed softly around her face and took away some of the severity of her frock. Annie had made up the fire, there was a tea-tray ready and crumpets on a plate ready for toasting. Elizabeth got another cup from the cupboard and plugged in the electric kettle. She didn
’
t know whether Stuart would want tea, but she felt the need of it. It wasn
’
t the physical side of her new job that was tiring but the continual demands upon her mentally as she readjusted to each fresh problem. No doubt with experience a lot of it would become automatic. It was all very well knowing the theory of hospital administration, but it was too rigid to make sufficient allowance for all the human foibles of hospital staff. The door knocker sounded loudly and stopped the useless perambulation of her thoughts. She went down to let Stuart in.

He gave her a wary smile and she was astonished to see worry behind it and not mockery.

“Thanks for letting me come, Elizabeth. I
’
m at my wits
’
end and haven
’
t a clue which way to turn for the best
...
It
’
s the very devil.” He followed her up the stairs into the little sitting room and walked over to the window. “You
’
ve got much the same view as I have
...
only from a different angle. Perhaps you can do as much for my problem.”

“Sit down, Stuart. This room isn
’
t large enough for prowling. What
’
s the matter
.
You
’
re as jumpy as a tiger.”

He took the chair opposite her reluctantly and watched her make the tea. “Give me the toasting fork and I
’
ll do the crumpets. I can talk better if I
’
m doing something.”

Elizabeth passed them to him. “You haven
’
t told me yet what
’
s wrong,” she reminded him gently.

“I know,” he said irritably. “I
’
m just trying to think of some way of putting it so that it doesn
’
t sound crazy.” He stabbed a crumpet with the toasting fork and held it near the coals. “Don
’
t laugh, be
c
ause it isn
’
t funny. It
’
s Susan, and she thinks she
’
s in love with me,” he blurted out miserably.

“But she
’
s only a child.” Elizabeth said blankly.

“I know that, and I
’
ve been telling myself the same ever since I guessed what might be going on in her little mind. Don
’
t forget: she may not be fifteen yet, but she
’
s living with a brother six years older as well as with her father, who
’
s a sober stick if there ever was one, and Dear Emily is no counteracting influence. There
’
s nothing and no one to suggest to the child that most adolescents go through the stage of having a crush on one of their parents
’
contemporaries and that it
’
s only part of growing up.”

“You
’
re singeing the crumpet, Stuart. But why do you have to do anything about it? Surely if you do it will only make it assume more importance in her eyes
...
what
’
s brought the matter to a head, anyway?”

Stuart looked at the crumpet gloomily and turned it the other way round. “A little bit of black is good for you in the spring, they say. What
’
s brought it to boiling point? I
’
m afraid you have.”

“Me? But that
’
s ridiculous! I only met Susan last night,” Elizabeth protested.