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He ignored the soft titter that flew around the room and stared at Jessie. Was she serious?
“Umm, you do know what that brown puddle is, right? It’s not chocolate,” Aryan pointed out and had the pleasure of seeing her blanch.
“Please, let’s not waste any more time. Sister, give me five minutes to set up before you send the first patient in. I’ll manage the examination on my own. You stay and handle things out here,” he ordered, and stalked into his cabin, muttering under his breath about fluffy-headed brats with no grasp of reality.
He had barely finished examining the first patient when the nurse walked in with another box of sterile instruments. Instead of leaving, she snapped on a pair of gloves, and positioned herself on the other side of the examination table, ready to assist.
Aryan raised an enquiring eyebrow, and Sister smiled.
“It’s okay, sir. It’s all under control.”
His patient chose that moment to howl in protest, so Aryan didn’t press the point. He just assumed that the mothers had pitched in to help.
Three hours later, Sister showed the last patient out, and Aryan sighed heavily as he sat up straight. He’d had to refer thirteen children to the hospital due to severe dehydration. That was thirteen more patients added to his hospital round. He wondered if there was any point in him even going home that night if he was going to be called out again in the middle of the night.
The door to his cabin swung open and to his surprise, Sister walked in with a tray.
“Where did this come from?” Aryan asked, staring at the cups of tea and the plate of Marie biscuits on the tray.
“From the tapri at the end of the lane,” she said, with a smile.
“And when did we acquire such fancy cups? The last time I checked, we barely had enough money to buy IV fluids,” he said with a frown.
“Rani Ma from the palace sent them over, along with a bunch of industrial strength cleaning supplies,” said the nurse, handing him a cup with its matching saucer.
The cup wobbled in the saucer as Aryan stared at it in horror. He steadied it before it could topple. The bloody set probably cost more than he earned in five years. What was Rani Ma thinking?
His eyes landed on the tray again, and he realised that there was another cup on it.
“Sister, who’s the second cup for?”
The nurse frowned at him.
“For Jessie ma’am, of course. She said she’ll join you once she’s done with the cleaning.”
Aryan spat out a mouthful of tea as he stared at her in shock.
“Cl...cleaning?” he wheezed.
“Yes, sir. She’s cleaning and disinfecting the waiting room.”
“I thought she left.”
The nurse shook her head.
“No! She cleaned up the mess made by the sick kids and then asked her mother to send us cleaning supplies. Not just that, but she also arranged for the tapri to send us tea and biscuits every evening.”
“Wait. Let’s talk about the cleaning part. You mean to tell me that she organised the cleaning?”
“No, sir. I meant that she did the cleaning herself,” insisted the nurse.
Jessie walked into Aryan’s cabin just as the cup in his hand wobbled dangerously again.
“Careful! That tea set is eighty years old,” she shrieked.
To Aryan’s everlasting shame, he screamed like a little girl as he steadied the cup and set it down carefully.
He raised his head and found Sister trying to stifle her giggles, as Jessie raised an eyebrow.
