Part 2 (2/2)
He had already been dealt with in the Accident Department, but only his leather jacket and jeans had been removed, together with his boots.
Alethea, helped by the most junior of her nurses, was pr ising off the rest of his garments when Nick arrived.
He didn't wish her good morning, only demanded her services in a curt voice and then wanted to know in an angry way why the patient wasn't already undressed.
”Because he's just this minute arrived,” Alethea pointed out sensibly, 'and he's not in a condition to have his clothes whipped off.
His BP's down and his pulse is rapid--a hundred and twenty.
His left pupil isn't reacting to light.
' She spoke in her usual quiet voice and pleasant manner while her heart raced and thumped and her knees shook; Nick might have treated her abominably, but she was still in love with him.
It remained to be seen if he felt the same about her; at the moment it was impossible to tell, he was being terse, almost rude, but perhaps he was worried about his patient.
The examination took a long time and in the end Sir Walter Tring, the orthopaedic consultant, joined them as he was on his way to theatre.
The leg, he observed brusquely, was a mess, it would need pinning and plating, provided they could find all the fragments of bone.
”Wiring, too,” he went on thoughtfully.
”We'd better have him up after the lad who's in theatre now.
' He looked across at Alethea.
”Keep you busy, don't we, Sister?
' She said ”Yes, sir,” cheerfully, and asked at what time the patient was to go for operation.
The boy was unconscious still and there was a drip already up and as far as she could see, most of the cleaning up would have to be done in theatre.
”Put him on quarter hour observations, Sister,” Walter ordered.
”T should think in about a i hour's time, but I'll be down again.
' He glanced ^t Nick.
”Penrose, check on that first boy we gaw to earlier on, will you, and let me know his condition.
I shall want you back here in about half an hour.
' He wandered off, not looking at all hurried-indeed, thought Alethea, watching him trundle through the ward doors, he looked like' some nice easy-going elderly gentleman on his way to the lending library or a quiet game of bowls.
Very deceptive; he could rage like a lion when peeved and wield the tools of his profession with an expertise which could shame a man half his age.
He terrified her nurses too, but she herself was made of sterner stuff; she took no notice at all when he bit her head off for something or other which nearly always had nothing to do with her, and accepted his apology afterwards in the spirit in which it was given.
They were great friends; completely impersonal, very professional towards each other while sharing a mutual regard.
Nick Penrose was writing up the boy's notes, not looking at her at all; she might not have been there.
A little spark of temper flared in her, refusing to be doused by her love; he was behaving as though she had been at fault, not he.
She felt a little sick, knowing that if he were to ask her to marry him she would say yes, despite the fact that tucked away right at the back of her mind there was the certainty that she would never forgive herself if she did.
He went presently, without saying a word and she set about the business of preparing the patient for theatre with the help of a student nurse and then made a hasty round of the ward.
There was the boy in theatre, and the boy who had been admitted with him was as well as could be expected, but old Mr Briggs was another cup of tea.
She pulled the screens round his bed and sat down, just as though she had all the time in the world, and talked to him; his wife would have to be telephoned straight away because he wasn't going to last the day.
She left him presently, sent one of the nurses to make him comfortable and keep an eye on him, and telephoned Mrs Briggs before going to look at Mr Cord's leg.
And that plaster would have to come off, she decided silently, looking
at the purple foot beneath it.
She went away to telephone the houseman, told Staff to get the cutters and shears ready and everything needed to replaster the limb, and glanced at the clock.
The half an hour was up, had been ten minutes ago; she hurried down the
ward once more, still contriving to look unhurried, and cast an eye over the boy.
There was no change in his condition, so she sent the nurse to get her
coffee so that she would be able to take him to theatre, and checked
his pulse.
She was charting it when Nick returned, took the chart from her without speaking and bent over the boy.
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