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‘Nothing out of the ordinary while you were—out, Sister.’ Eva pushed to her feet, her rotund shape making the move ungainly. She took a final drag of her cigarette before dropping it and toeing it out. Her glare at Meg bordered on insolent, but, after a pause of several seconds during which she seemed to be waiting for Meg to chew her out over the dropped butt, she picked it up and pushed it into the metal bin that sat outside the hut.
‘I’m pleased to hear that.’ Keeping her tone deliberately mild, Meg added, ‘In that case, I’m going to have a quick cuppa before I go back on duty.’
Dr Ransom appeared from his hut and raised his hand in a brief welcome wave. ‘Sister Dorset, might I have a word before you go back to the ward?’
Eva strolled towards the hospital, not so fast that Meg might think she was keen to get back to work, but fast enough that Dr Ransom didn’t tell her to hurry up.
Dr Ransom watched Eva depart until she was well out of hearing range then met Meg’s curious gaze. ‘I’m sensing some hostility from Sister Smith. Is everything okay with her?’
‘She’s doing her work, but I wouldn’t rate her skills, personal or professional, very high, unless she’s talking to a good-looking patient above the rank of corporal.’
‘Hmm, I’m not happy with her performance in the operating theatre. See if you can make her pull her boots up or, shortage or not, I’ll be requesting her transfer out.’
‘Certainly, Doctor.’
‘Thank you, Sister.’ He headed towards the hospital leaving Meg to make her much-needed cup of tea.
For a moment, Meg imagined leaving Eva to flail and fail. How much nicer the ward would be without Eva’s sniping and monopolising certain patients at the expense of the lower ranks. But with barely enough nurses to care for their patients until the next round of transfers increased their staff, Meg had to find a way to reach Eva and draw out her better nature.
If she has one.
And she had to ensure a smooth transition for whomever followed her as Dr Ransom’s head nurse, because she doubted she could continue in the role once he—and therefore HQ—knew she was with child. Her hand slipped over her stomach before she realised the action would be a dead giveaway. How long did she have before she could no longer disguise her condition? July? Maybe August or, if she were very lucky, September?
Sipping her tea and gazing across the croquet lawn through blurring steam, her mind wandered back to the few precious times Seamus had made love to her. Mid- to late March, and on one of those occasions their love had created new life. So now, nearing the end of autumn, she must be about six or eight weeks along, as Dr Newton had guessed.
By the time she finished her tea and was returning to the hospital, a flurry of activity around the operating theatre hastened her steps.
Catherine turned out of the supply room in front of her. ‘Sorry, Sister Dorset.’
‘What’s happened?’
‘An appendectomy, urgent. The ambulance is on its way.’
‘I’ll scrub up. Have you begun the sponge count?’
‘Eva’s doing that now.’
Meg slipped into a surgical gown and pulled on a cap as she was brought up to speed. Why hadn’t Dr Ransom mentioned the case when they’d spoken? ‘When did the call come in?’
‘Five minutes ago. Apparently, the drill sergeant keeled over on the parade ground. Shall I do up your ties?’
Meg turned and Catherine, calm, unflappable Catherine, did up her gown then picked up her bundle of small cloths and continued on her way to theatre. She would make a very good head nurse once Meg left.
Better than Gerry?
Meg scrubbed and then, as her fellow nurses went about their tasks while she checked the instrument tray was complete and in the correct order, she kept track of their progress. Early on, just after the first five nurses arrived, Dr Ransom had requested she keep notes on the progress of each nurse. She had, with dates and new skills listed, but more than that would be necessary in the next three months, four at most. Tonight, she would stay back in her cubbyhole of an office and add to them; things like ability to take on increased responsibility, deal with pressure, organisational skills. At least then, her suggestion as to her replacement to Dr Ransom would be based on facts and not personal loyalty.
Catherine or Gerry? Or is one of the newcomers still to show her mettle?
Maybe she should also make a note of their personality aptitude for the position, although . . . She hadn’t seen herself as ready to be a head nurse before she arrived. Some things you simply learned as you went along because you had to.
Like motherhood.
Would she learn to be a good mother to Seamus’s baby?
Dr Ransom poked his head around the door of the scrub room. His surgical gown flapped loose and he held his hands up and away from his body as water dripped down them. ‘Sister Dorset, is the theatre prepped?’
She handed him a sterile cloth. ‘Yes, Doctor. We’re ready.’
