Nurse In The Outback
Sharon Kendrik
Mills & Boon are proud to present a thrilling digital collection of all Sharon Kendrick’s novels and novellas for us to celebrate the publication of her amazing 100th book! Many of these books are available as e books for the first time.Under the Australian sunThe harsh curl of Grant Kershaw’s sensual mouth would not, Kate decided, make her regret swapping Southern England for the remote Western Australian outback. She had not survived years of medical training, and one broken relationship to succumb to the brooding power of the surgeon-in-chief… her new boss!Working closely by his side, as Grant’s theatre nurse, it’s not long before they both give in to the heady desire that burns between them. But can their bourgeoning relationship survive the jealous fury of the vengeful Sister Tessa Hetherington?
‘I’d like you to meet our new theatre nurse. I’ve just had to practically drag her away from the clutches of young Dr Anderson! Staff Nurse Carpenter, this is Dr Kershaw—our Surgeon-in-Charge.’
It was as though someone had pulled a shutter down in front of those grey eyes, thought Kate as he stared at her. All the passion and amination had been wiped clean from his face, which now looked blank and cold.
‘Miss Carpenter,’ he said. ‘You and I seem to be meeting with monotonous regularity.’
Tessa Hetherington was looking closely from one to the other. ‘Am I to assume that you two are already friends?’ Her voice sounded high and forced. It seemed to Kate that she was carrying a very large torch for the moody Dr Kershaw.
‘Hardly friends, Sister,’ replied Kate evenly. ‘I’ve met Dr Kershaw briefly on two occasions in Perth. Ours has been the most fleeting of acquaintanceships!’
‘You certainly don’t waste much time, Nurse!’ she said brightly and turned to him conspiratorially. ‘As I said, I found Nurse Carpenter in deep conversation with Dr Anderson, and she’d only been in the building for five minutes!’
‘Really?’ The surgeon’s arch query carried a wealth of disapproval. ‘I must say I don’t envy you your job one bit, Tessa. Trying to keep the nurses’ minds on their work and out of the doctors’ hair must be an uphill battle.’ He stood up suddenly and his tall angular frame seemed to fill the room.
Dear Reader (#ue338543a-8129-5ae5-967f-22cd1716634e),
One hundred. Doesn’t matter how many times I say it, I still can’t believe that’s how many books I’ve written. It’s a fabulous feeling but more fabulous still is the news that Mills & Boon are issuing every single one of my backlist as digital titles. Wow. I can’t wait to share all my stories with you - which are as vivid to me now as when I wrote them.
There’s BOUGHT FOR HER HUSBAND, with its outrageously macho Greek hero and A SCANDAL, A SECRET AND A BABY featuring a very sexy Tuscan. THE SHEIKH’S HEIR proved so popular with readers that it spent two weeks on the USA Today charts and…well, I could go on, but I’ll leave you to discover them for yourselves.
I remember the first line of my very first book: “So you’ve come to Australia looking for a husband?” Actually, the heroine had gone to Australia to escape men, but guess what? She found a husband all the same! The man who inspired that book rang me up recently and when I told him I was beginning my 100th story and couldn’t decide what to write, he said, “Why don’t you go back to where it all started?”
So I did. And that’s how A ROYAL VOW OF CONVENIENCE was born. It opens in beautiful Queensland and moves to England and New York. It’s about a runaway princess and the enigmatic billionaire who is infuriated by her, yet who winds up rescuing her. But then, she goes and rescues him… Wouldn’t you know it?
I’ll end by saying how very grateful I am to have a career I love, and to thank each and every one of you who has supported me along the way. You really are very dear readers.
Love,
Sharon xxx
Mills & Boon are proud to present a thrilling digital collection of all Sharon Kendrick’s novels and novellas for us to celebrate the publication of her amazing and awesome 100th book! Sharon is known worldwide for her likeable, spirited heroines and her gorgeous, utterly masculine heroes.
SHARON KENDRICK once won a national writing competition, describing her ideal date: being flown to an exotic island by a gorgeous and powerful man. Little did she realise that she’d just wandered into her dream job! Today she writes for Mills & Boon, featuring her often stubborn but always to-die-for heroes and the women who bring them to their knees. She believes that the best books are those you never want to end. Just like life…
Nurse in the Outback
Sharon Kendrick
writing as Sharon Wirdnam
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Contents
Cover (#u85d84fee-3397-5250-a564-d8cb5a5c2f42)
Dear Reader (#ue26b8c89-fe87-5732-a9b0-1d97aea0fba4)
About the Author (#u7f7c539d-5cd8-5939-ae29-fc13a5c34863)
Title Page (#uaf1be326-549c-56d6-b687-050850f81f25)
CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_210c3630-f1c8-5b34-aa52-e9d36b095068)
CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_e4d27db8-9888-5c42-b3e3-9e03a151ae17)
CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_0ec5214b-9514-5378-93e6-e66688eac608)
CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_b307fed1-55c9-5eea-a9a2-1c5be64f0953)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_4e9b2ddf-db1a-5fff-b947-16e2cb1a02aa)
‘SO YOU’VE come to Australia looking for a husband, have you?’
Kate stared indignantly at the tall man in front of her, whose dark good looks appeared to have mesmerised almost every woman in the room. She drew herself up to her full height which, infuriatingly, still only reached to his shoulders.
‘How dare you?’ she said furiously. ‘It may surprise you to realise that not all women regard marriage as the pinnacle of achievement.’
‘I’ve yet to meet one, I’m afraid,’ he said, in an exasperatingly offhand manner. ‘Although that’s what they always say.’
‘I’m not even going to dignify your prejudices by discussing them with you,’ she retorted disdainfully.
Turning on her heel, she stalked towards the drinks trolley which stood in a corner of the large airy room whose windows overlooked the Swan river. With a trembling hand she lifted a pitcher and poured herself a glass of punch.
She hadn’t even wanted to come to this party, she reflected, as she quenched her thirst. It was her young cousin Paul, a fourth year medical student at Western Australia’s busy teaching hospital, who had persuaded Kate to accompany him to his ‘end of firm’ party. This was a small affair given by Paul and the other students for the surgical team who had been teaching them for the last two months.
‘But I won’t know anyone,’ she had protested.
‘Then I’ll introduce you! You must come, Katie, you’ll enjoy yourself,’ he had insisted.
So here she was. Presumably the self-opinionated man was one of the surgical team; he certainly looked too old to be a medical student.
Such arrogance! she thought to herself, watching as he stood lounging against the wall, surveying the room slowly. Kate’s place had been quickly filled by a young woman with startling platinum blonde hair who was gazing up at him through thickly mascaraed lashes. He noticed the direction of Kate’s glance and grinned sardonically, raising his glass to her.
She hastily looked away. Heaven save her from all men, especially from men as egotistical as that one! She found herself resenting his obvious good looks—the craggy, tanned face and the coal-black curls which put her in mind of some latter-day Sir Lancelot.
He wore a loosely fitting grey linen suit, but even that could not disguise the sinewy outlines of his tall, hard body. No wonder, thought Kate, that the blonde was pressing herself against him!
She took another sip of her drink and glanced around the room for her cousin. She spotted him talking to a freckled-faced young woman with a mop of thick brown curls.
Paul was such a dear, thought Kate, although at times she felt exhausted just keeping up with the dizzy series of activities which he and his parents had organised for her.
She had been in the beautiful city of Perth for almost twelve weeks, and she had scarcely had time to draw breath. She suspected that they were trying to keep her busy in the hope that she wouldn’t have time to dwell on the reason for her hurried departure from England—the end of her romance with Ben and the unsavoury discovery that he had been unfaithful to her. She had come to Australia to get the whole ghastly business out of her system.
She had dressed carefully for the party. She made a striking vision in a simple cut dress of jade, which emphasised the cat like quality of her green eyes. The rich golden satin of her hair tumbled down around her heart-shaped face, almost to her waist.
Her look would have been quintessentially English if it had included the delicate pink-and-white which so often accompanies blonde hair, but she was able to bask in the sun at will without burning, and already she was the colour of golden syrup, after twelve weeks beneath the strong Australian sun.
The dark surgeon had sought her company uninvited. Their eyes had met across a sea of bobbing heads and Kate had seen a look of astonishment cross his features, almost as though he had seen a ghost, she thought.
She wondered what on earth had caused a stranger to make such an odd remark.
He had come towards her with a slightly bemused expression and had offered to fetch her something to drink. She had accepted gratefully, already used to the disarming friendliness of the Australians, and rather interested in this particular one since he was without question the best-looking man in the room.
It was when he heard her soft, clear English accent that she had seen his grey eyes darken and a frown appear between those dark brows. What did she do? he had wanted to know. State Registered Nurse, she had told him proudly, and it was a just pride, for Kate had trained at St. Jude’s—one of the largest and busiest teaching hospitals, with a reputation for producing some of England’s finest nurses.
She remembered her first few weeks of training when Mrs. French her tutor, had told the class of fresh-faced youngsters before her that training at St. Jude’s was a passport to any hospital in the world. And yet it had not aroused the customary respect in the face of the Australian.
‘What brings you to Australia?’ he had demanded, and she had told him simply that she had had a love affair back in England which had gone wrong.
It was then that he had made his provocative statement. Kate had at first thought that he was joking, but the grey eyes hadn’t looked particularly humorous.
She had felt flabbergasted by his insufferable conceit. The worst type of surgeon, she decided, so used to the power and prestige of the job that he imagined himself irresistible to all women!
She turned her back on the platinum blonde who now appeared to be in the process of nibbling on his ear, standing on tiptoe in order to reach.
Her cousin had noticed that she stood alone and, with his curly-haired companion, had threaded his way through the scattered couples towards her.
‘Hi there, Cousin!’ he exclaimed warmly. ‘I want you to meet Joanne, a fellow student and our hostess for this wonderful party.’ He leaned over and planted a kiss on Joanne’s nose. ‘Joanne’s folks allowed us to use their house tonight,’ he explained. ‘Fortunately that did not include letting her loose in the kitchen, and the food was provided by outside caterers!’
‘Why, you ungrateful beast!’ laughed Joanne, aiming a playful punch at him. ‘I’m very pleased to meet you, Kate. Paul has told me so much about you.’
‘All bad, of course!’ interjected Paul.
‘I hope you’re having a great holiday, so far?’ Joanne asked, in her pleasant voice.
‘It’s been wonderful,’ replied Kate. ‘Everyone has really gone out of their way to be kind to me.’ She paused. ‘Except for that man over there—he’s just been unbelievably rude!’
‘Which one?’ asked Joanne.
‘Him—the one with his back to us, over by the window.’
Joanne followed the direction of her gaze. He stood, nonchantly sipping his drink, seemingly oblivious to the attentions of the amorous blonde.
‘Oh, you mean Grant Kershaw—I should have guessed!’ Joanne grimaced at Kate. ‘I shouldn’t worry about him. He’s hardly the world’s greatest charmer. Half the women in the hospital are madly in love with him and show it; the other half feel the same but pretend to hate him. Consequently his arrogance knows no bounds! He hates women. They say he has only one true love in his life, and that’s surgery. People can stand his bearlike manner because he’s so good at it, too. If he carries on the way he’s going, it’s said that he’ll become the youngest surgical consultant in the state.’
‘All the women in the hospital are in love with him, are they, Joanne?’ Paul raised his eyebrows questioningly. Suddenly Joanne blushed and grinned shyly at him.
‘Please excuse me,’ she said. ‘I must go and organise some more punch. It’s lovely to have met you, Kate.’ She smiled as she hurried away in the direction of the kitchen.
Kate turned to her cousin. ‘Do I detect a romance brewing?’ she asked, her eyes twinkling mischievously.
‘Well detected, Kate,’ smiled Paul. ‘She’s a lovely girl,’ he said, suddenly serious.
The sight of her cousin, so obviously in love, made Kate feel very much an outsider. All at once the room seemed hot and noisy and the babbling of voices were giving her a headache. She had had enough of the party.
‘I think I’ll go home now,’ she told him.
His face fell a little. ‘Let me say goodbye to Joanne, then I’ll give you a lift.’
‘No Paul. It’s sweet of you, but I’ll get a taxi. Really, I insist!’ She was amused to see his look of relief. She had no desire to drag him away from the party, and quite honestly she felt as though she could do with a little solitude.
As she left, she couldn’t resist looking to see whether Grant Kershaw had made any headway with the young woman, but she searched in vain. He was nowhere to be seen.
She thanked Joanne, said goodbye to Paul and stepped outside into the fading light of the warm Perth evening. She found a taxi easily and directed it to the exclusive beach side suburb where her Uncle Mike and Aunt Sue lived. Distant stars had started to glimmer and the coloured lights from skyscraper office blocks danced like a kaleidoscope on the waters of the Swan.
With a sigh she settled into the back seat and closed her eyes.
The last few months had been one mad, hectic whirl. The excitement of a trip to Australia had somehow blurred the reality of her split with Ben. Over the past few days, however, the realisation had at last begun to sink in. She was not to become Mrs. Hillier; her future no longer lay comfortable and secure before her.
All things considered, it had not been a particularly successful evening, she thought as the car gathered speed. That man had quite unnerved her. Thank heavens she was to begin nursing again next week; the demanding physical and mental nature of the job would leave her little time or energy to dwell on affairs of the heart.
Uncle Mike had arranged for her to work in the ‘country’ hospital of Port Dampland, a town with a population of around twelve thousand, which handled the shipping of iron ore supplied by two nearby mines.
‘It’s a rough and ready place,’ her uncle had warned her. ‘There’s sea on one side and desert on the other. Few shops, no theatre, one pub and the hospital. You could be lonely there, Kate.’
Frankly, it had sounded just what she needed—lots of hard work as a nurse in her beloved theatres. It needed stamina, anticipation and dexterity to be a good scrub nurse, and Kate had been told that she was one of the best.
The taxi drew up outside the imposing white colonial-styled house of her relatives. Her uncle had emigrated from England twenty years previously, a newly-married houseman at the time. Now he was Chief of Surgery at Perth’s largest hospital.
She paid the taxi-driver and, hearing no sounds from the house, wandered through the gardens towards the swimming pool where her uncle and aunt often sat to drink their coffee after dinner. She strolled across the lawn, whose manicured emerald smoothness belied the heat of the harsh Australian sun. There were hundreds of wild flowers massed around the edges of the lawn, and the fading light seemed only to intensify their colours, making them jewel-bright and unreal.
She made a beautiful, wraith-like vision, her hair like a shimmering waterfall as she picked her way towards the table where her aunt and uncle were sitting. She could see that they had a guest, a man, sitting with his back to her.
Her aunt saw her and waved. ‘Kate!’ she called. ‘How lovely? Come and have some coffee.’
As she drew nearer, Kate realised with a start that she recognised the broad line of those shoulders. She recognised the dark curls which showed jet against the white of his shirt collar. Furiously, she realised that her heart was thumping painfully in her chest.
He turned in his chair to greet the niece of his host, and she had the pleasure of reading the momentary discomfiture which flashed across his face. Then it was gone and he was on his feet, hand outstretched, that hateful sarcastic smile on his lips.
Her uncle smiled broadly. ‘I’d like you to meet Grant Kershaw, Kate. He’s one of our rising stars and, though I hate to admit it, my most likely successor! Grant—my niece Kate Carpenter.’
‘How do you do, Miss Carpenter?’ he said formally, extending his hand and clasping her own.
So he was not going to acknowledge their earlier meeting, thought Kate angrily. And no wonder, since he behaved so rudely towards her. Well, two can play at your silly games, Mr. Kershaw! she thought doggedly.
‘Very well, thank you,’ she answered coolly as she sat down in the chair he’d pulled out for her. ‘Enjoying both the Australian sun and the warm hospitality of its people.’ She smiled at him politely and he winced slightly.
‘How was the party, darling?’ enquired her aunt as she handed her a cup of coffee. ‘I’m suprised that you didn’t run into each other.’
‘It was a bit of a crush, Auntie. I spent most of the time chatting to Paul and Joanne. Actually, I’m feeling quite tired, so I think I’ll turn in soon, if you don’t mind.’
‘You do that, Katie,’ replied her aunt. ‘Make the most of the last few days of your holiday!’ She turned and smiled at Grant. ‘I’m glad that you’ve met each other, though. At least you’ll know one person in Port Dampland, Kate.’
Kate saw him start while she herself grew hot. She noticed that he was avoiding her eyes.
‘Grant is doing a year as Surgeon-in-Charge at Port Dampland Hospital,’ her aunt explained. ‘Kate is a theatre nurse, Grant, and starts at Dampland Hospital next week. I expect you’ll be working together quite often.’
‘I expect we will, Mrs. Saunders, and I shall look forward to it.’ He smiled evenly at his hostess.
How disgustingly obsequious! thought Kate. Now that he knew she was related to his boss, his earlier rudeness had been replaced by charm itself. He obviously thought he could behave just how the mood took him, where women were concerned. Well, he wouldn’t find her so easily manipulated!
‘I’m going up to Dampland myself tommorrow,’ continued the surgeon. ‘I’ll be travelling in a converted jeep, and spend a couple of days getting there. It’s a marvellous opportunity to see the Australian bush. If you’d care to come along, Kate, there’s plenty of room, and I should be a most willing guide. That is, if your uncle approves of the arrangement.’
‘Good heavens, yes, Grant,’ answered her uncle. ‘I’m sure Kate would have a wonderful time and is perfectly capable of looking after herself.’
‘How very thoughtful of you to make such a kind offer,’ said Kate stiffly. ‘Thank you very much, but I intended to fly, and I’m looking forward to it. I’m picking up my ticket tomorrow, actually.’ She looked directly at Grant Kershaw.
‘Look here,’ he appealed, ‘that’s easily changed. Do come!’ He sounded as though he meant it.
Perhaps he was feeling guilty, and so he should be, she thought. His behaviour earlier had been quite unwarranted. No doubt he was used to changing women’s minds . . . but Kate could be stubborn.
And, if she were being entirely honest, she wasn’t sure that she wanted to spend two days in close confinement with such a dangerous man. She lifted her chin.
‘Thanks again, Mr. Kershaw,’ she replied, trying to sound as indifferent as possible, ‘but I really do enjoy flying, and my mind is made up. Now if you’ll excuse me.’
She turned to kiss her uncle and aunt goodnight, but not before she had seen his lips tighten in anger. He obviously wasn’t used to having his wishes thwarted! she thought gleefully.
Her goodnights said, she picked up the black silk shawl which she had slung across the back of one of the garden chairs and walked slowly towards the house. She sensed his eyes on her and looking casually over her shoulder, saw that she had perceived correctly. He looked furious too!
As she showered later, Kate puzzled at the unpredictable nature of sexual chemistry. She had quite definitely felt a strong pull towards the lofty surgeon she had met twice that evening, yet the man was a complete stranger and a condescending one, moreover.
On the other hand, she had gone out with Ben for over two years and sometimes they had seemed more like brother and sister.
That was probably the root of all the trouble, she thought as she rubbed shampoo into her hair. They had known each other since schooldays, when Ben used to see the young Kate safely home. Their parents even played tennis and bridge together in the sleepy Surrey village. Then Ben had gone away to study law and Kate had stayed behind to do her ‘A’ levels.
They had met up again in London where Kate was doing nursing training and Ben was reading for the bar, and had slipped into being girlfriend and boyfriend. All their friends had been so pleased, and had said what a perfect couple they made. Both sets of parents were delighted. Everything seemed so cosy and familiar. There had been talk of an engagement, and Kate had been mulling over her answer.
If she hadn’t decided to pay a surprise visit to Ben’s London flat, she might never have discovered him, in what she believed was known as a compromising situation, with a young redheaded secretary from his chambers.
It had been unbelievably sordid. And to her astonishment, Ben had seemed to imagine that she would forgive this one lapse on his part. As she towelled her hair dry, she remembered the rather bovine look of dismay on his face when she told him that the relationship was over and that she was going to Australia to forget.
She climbed in between the cool sheets and switched off the light. She lay in the darkness and watched the moon cast strange shadows on the ceiling.
She wasn’t going to think of Ben and she certainly wasn’t going to start thinking about Grant Kershaw. She wanted work to have a cathartic effect, leaving her at peace.
She hoped sleep would come quickly tonight. She badly wanted Monday to come.
CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_28b97d08-ab11-56d1-bb35-efcfc6985312)
‘THE HEAT hit Kate the moment she stepped from the aircraft. It was like a solid wall, and it made her gasp as it entered her lungs.
She managed to look cool and composed in an ice-pink cotton sun-dress with matching sandals. Her hair lay in a single plait down her back, woven with ribbon of the same pink as the dress.
Inside, however her stomach was churning. The flight from Perth to Port Dampland had been awful. She realised now that she should never have flown in the middle of the afternoon, when the fierce heat of the sun over the mountain ranges had created severe turbulence that, at times, had made her believe she had parted company with her stomach.
She reached the bottom of the aircraft steps and surveyed the scene around her. It was some of the most dramatic terrain she had ever seen. The earth was coloured a deep, dusty red and it seemed to stretch into infinity.
Behind a fence which bordered the runway stood a small wooden building whose front bore the legend ‘Dampland Airport’. The interior of the building awaited Kate with all its air conditioned coolness, and she breathed a sigh of relief as she handed her papers to the burly official.
‘G’day, love,’ he smiled as he extended the familiar Australian greeting. ‘Where are you headed?’
‘I start work at Dampland Hospital tomorrow. I’m a nurse,’ explained Kate.
‘A nurse, are you? Then you’ll be wanting Barney Ferguson. He’s the hospital porter, driver and almost anything else you can think of! He’s in his ute over there.’ He pointed out of the window to where an extraordinary vehicle sat parked on the side of the dusty road.
It was the size of a car and had a cab at the front with two seats. There, however, the resemblance ended, for the back consisted of a small trailer on wheels which contained a dusty fridge and, incongruously enough, a selection of plastic watering cans! The ute was coloured a vivid scarlet, and lovingly polished.
As Kate walked towards what she later learned was fondly called ‘Beaut’, its owner jumped out from behind the driving wheel and advanced towards her grinning from ear to ear.
Barney Ferguson was of indeterminate age, but although Kate hazarded a guess at around fifty, she wouldn’t have been at all suprised to hear that he was, in fact, almost seventy. He had periwinkle blue eyes in a creased face, tanned dark by the sun.
He doffed a battered old straw hat and took Kate’s one suitcase, placing it carefully in the back of the ute.
‘G’day, miss,’ he said, and shook her hand warmly. ‘Is that all the luggage you’ve got?’
‘Oh no,’ replied Kate, as she climbed into the passenger seat and fastened her seat belt. ‘But I decided to wait and see what I really needed. My uncle and aunt live in Perth, so they can send the rest of my clothes down later.’
‘Good thinking,’ said the old man as he placed the key in the ignition. He started up the car, and drove off from the tiny airport in a cloud of dust.
‘Welcome to Port Dampland!’ he exclaimed, and waved one hand expressively at the window.
The stark landscape had a beauty all of its own, Kate decided. Here and there, the harshness of the scene was broken by vivid green clumps of soft feathery-looking grass.
‘That grass,’ said Barney, who had noticed her interest, ‘is spinifex. Don’t park yourself anywhere near it—it’s spikier than a porcupine’s back!’
‘I’ll try to remember,’ laughed Kate, leaning back and closing her eyes as the warm air blew in through the window.
Some five or so miles on, the homogeneity of the tableau was broken by the appearance of a long, low building, glittering in the distance.
‘That’s Dampland Hospital,’ said Barney. ‘It’s built near the airport, so they can ship off any really bad cases to Perth, if need be. I’ll take you straight to Sister Hetherington in theatres—she’s expecting you. She’ll probably take you to your digs.’
‘Thanks, Barney,’ said Kate, as they drove up towards the main entrance of the hospital.
It was a strange building for a hospital, certainly to the English-trained Kate’s eyes—used to the tall, imposing walls of St. Jude’s, which had been built in the last century. Australian architecture was entirely practical, to withstand extremes of climate, that much she knew.
The building was on three floors only, lack of available space not being a problem in the vast open reaches of the Gibson Desert. It was raised very slightly from the ground—a necessary step to discourage the various spiders and insects. Finally, the ward section of the hospital was surrounded by a veranda, whose purpose was not just to provide welcome shade from the fierce sun, but to enable patients to sit outside in the evenings, while convalescing.
Kate collected her suitcase from the back of the ute and, thanking Barney again, walked through the swing doors into the main reception area, which felt positively chilly compared with the temperature outside. Oh, the marvels of science! thought Kate, uttering a fervent thanks to whoever had invented air-conditioning. She made her way to the reception desk and asked the young nursing auxiliary to please let Sister Hetherington know that Staff Nurse Carpenter had arrived.
The girl picked up an internal phone and relayed the message. ‘Take a seat,’ she said to Kate. ‘Sister Hetherington’ll be right with you.’
Kate wandered slowly around the room, which was filled with huge exotic greenery. She stopped in front of a painting—a brilliant landscape in vibrant colours, which seemed perfectly to capture the raw excitement of the Australian bush. She gazed at it, so enraptured that she did not hear the sound of footsteps behind her.
‘Pro Hart,’ said an amused voice.
Kate spun round and found herself looking at an attractive, grinning man she’d never seen before with fair hair and a slightly dishevelled appearance.
‘I’m sorry?’ she stammered.
‘Pro Hart - it’s the name of the artist,’ he explained.
‘I’m ashamed to admit that I’ve never heard of him, or is it a her?’ asked Kate ruefully.
‘Then you can’t possibly be an Aussie!’ laughed the young man. He wore a white coat with a stethoscope just protruding from one pocket, which marked him out as a doctor, as opposed to one of the many other white coat wearers in a hospital. He held out his hand to her. ‘Hi, I’m Craig Anderson,’ he said. ‘The hardest working physician this side of the Hammersley Ranges! And to whom do I have the pleasure of talking?’
‘Nurse Carpenter, I presume?’ interrupted another voice before Kate had a chance to reply.
A young woman, not much older than Kate, stood before her. She was smiling politely, but her brown eyes glittered in a less than friendly fashion. She was wearing a simple white nursing frock, and not one hair was visible beneath a neat matching cap. A name-badge identified her as ‘Sister T. Hetherington.’
‘Please don’t let us keep you, Dr. Anderson,’ she said. ‘I’m sure you’ll have plenty of time to get to know Nurse Carpenter properly,’ She laid some emphasis on the last word and Craig Anderson looked slightly disconcerted.
‘Sure, Sister. Look, I must be getting along.’ At that moment his bleep shrilled loudly, and the look of relief on his face was almost comic as he hurried away to answer it.
Kate grinned broadly at the trim Sister, but she met no answering smile. Instead, the long-lashed brown eyes met hers disaprovingly.
‘Nurse Carpenter,’ the Sister began, ‘I badly need another nurse in my theatres and, for that reason, I’m very glad to have you on board. But I feel I must point out that we have very busy lists and expect hard work from our nurses. I do hope you understand that. In Australian hospitals, we rarely have time on duty to stand around chatting up the doctors.’
Not the most auspicious of beginnings, thought Kate, though the smile didn’t leave her face. After all, she was going to have to work with Sister Hetherington, and work very closely too. It was important that they didn’t fall out on her very first day.
‘I understand perfectly Sister,’ she replied. ‘I’ve never been afraid of hard work. In fact, where I trained it was expected. That was at St. Jude’s in London,’ she added.
‘So I believe,’ said Sister Hetherington coolly. ‘Well I’m glad we understand each other, Nurse.’
‘And as for standing around, chatting up the doctors, Sister. I came here solely to work and to see the Australian bush, and that is just what I intend to do. Dr. Anderson came up and introduced himself to me.’ Kate smiled disarmingly at the Australian girl, who she guessed was probably only a couple of years older than herself.
‘Very well,’ the other replied crisply. ‘And now if you’d like to follow me, I can spare you ten minutes to show you around the theatre suites. After that I’ll get one of the auxiliaries to show you to your room.’ She began walking towards the lift situated in the centre of the reception area.
The silence as they rode up to the second floor which comprised the theatre suite was deafening, Kate decided. She felt that any attempts at light conversation would definitely not be encouraged.
The other girl kept her eyes firmly fixed on the numbers flashing above their heads until a loud ping, followed by the doors sliding open, heralded their arrival.
We’re here,’ she announced, somewhat unnecessarily.
Immediately Kate became aware of that unique rarified atmosphere which is peculiar to all operating theatres. It was a combination of bright lights and the sharp, clean smell of chlorhexidine which was used to clean down every available surface.
Never had the saying ‘all the world’s a stage’, been more apposite than here, with the players garbed in their emerald theatre greens—a uniform which guaranteed a certain anonymity. Each person was moving swiftly and purposefully towards his or her task, the result being one huge team, each member being vital to its smooth running.
Kate looked closely at the comparatively young woman who was responsible for the unity of this team. The working conditions would reflect her ability and personality to a large extent. Ultimately, the Sister was responsible for the maintenance of adequate staffing levels. She would match scrub nurses with surgeons who worked well together, wherever possible. She must ensure that there were always enough packs—sterilised sets of instruments for each different operation. A Theatre Sister was like the conductor of a large orchestra, and, while she appreciated the skills needed, Kate loved nothing better than the unity and the job satisfaction which she found when assisting a brilliant surgeon.
There were two operating theatres in all. The gynaecological theatres were completely separate and in another part of the hospital. Each theatre had its own anaesthetic room and scrub room attached. In the middle of both theatres was the recovery room, where patients were brought post-operatively until they came round from the anaesthetic drugs and gases.
In addition to these rooms there was a sluice, a vast storeroom where all the sterile packs were kept; two changing rooms; a rest room and a small office whose door was marked ‘Sister-in-Charge.’
Sister Hetherington led the way into her office with Kate following just behind. A man dressed in green cotton trousers and matching short-sleeved top was sitting in a chair at the desk, his long legs stretched out in front of him, talking excitedly into the phone.
He hadn’t noticed them at the door, and Kate was astonished to see a lively animated expression transforming the face of Grant Kershaw. Then she realised that another transformation had taken place and that the brown eyes of Sister Hetherington had softened, and her lips had parted in a welcoming smile.
He put the receiver down and looked up at her.
‘Dacron grafts, Tessa. I’ve just ordered a dozen. Wonderful invention—a break through in vascular surgery.’ He shook his head, as if in amazement.
‘Oh Grant!’ cried Theresa Hetherington in mock horror. ‘You musn’t try and do my job as well as your own!’ She laughed up at him coyly, then remembered Kate, who had remained politely at the door, fascinated by the scene before her. ‘I’d like you to meet our new theatre nurse. I’ve just had to practically drag her away from the clutches of young Dr. Anderson! Staff Nurse Carpenter, this is Dr. Kershaw—our Surgeon-in Charge.’
It was as though someone had pulled a shutter down in front of those grey eyes, thought Kate as he stared at her. All the passion and animation had been wiped clean from his face, which now looked blank and cold.
‘Miss Carpenter,’ he said. ‘You and I seem to be meeting with monotonous regularity.’
Tessa Hetherington was looking closely from one to the other.
‘Am I to assume that you two are already friends?’ Her voice sounded high and forced. It seemed to Kate that she was carrying a very large torch for the moody Dr. Kershaw.
‘Hardly friends, Sister,’ replied Kate evenly. ‘I’ve met Dr. Kershaw briefly on two occasions in Perth. Ours has been the most fleeting of acquaintanceships!’
‘You certainly don’t waste much time, Nurse!’ she said brightly, and turned to him conspiratorially. ‘As I said, I found Nurse Carpenter in deep conservation with Dr Anderson, and she’d only been in the building for five minutes!’
‘Really?’ The surgeon’s arch query carried a wealth of disapproval. ‘I must say I don’t envy your job one bit, Tessa. Trying to keep the nurses’ minds on their work and out of the doctors’ hair must be an uphill battle.’ He stood up suddenly and his tall angular frame seemed to fill the room.
Again, Kate found his arrogance and rudeness unpardonable, but she bit back a sharp comment. After all, it would hardly do for a new and very junior staff nurse to answer back the chief surgeon in front of Sister on her first day! It would probably infuriate him more than if she remained immune to his barbed remarks. With this in mind, she smiled innocently up at him.
As he made to leave, Theresa Hetherington stopped him with a hand on his arm. ‘Afternoon tea later, Grant?’ she asked.
‘Sure.’
The two women watched him go in silence. Then Tessa Hetherington looked Kate full in the eye.
‘Dr. Kershaw like me to scrub for him wherever possible. I’m afraid that you’ll be mainly working on fairly minor ops, with the houseman. After all, we don’t want you to be out of your depth, do we?’ she enquired sweetly. ‘And now, Nurse, if you’ve no more questions, I’ll get someone to show you to your room.’
CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_c8a88e18-d122-51cb-afdd-f5429f782c6c)
KATE pulled down the shutters and flung herself on to the bed, kicking off her sandals. The motherly auxiliary had just left after showing her to her small flat, which was situated in a block about five minutes’ walk away from the theatre suite.
She felt indescribably gloomy. She had not exactly hit it off with Tessa Hetherington. Grant Kershaw seemed to despise her for no reason as far as she could see, and now it sounded as though she would not be able to use her wide experience of scrubbing.
Her head throbbed alarmingly. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast. She glanced at the slim gold watch on her wrist; it was four o’clock and she was far too late for lunch now. She closed her eyes and tried to relax, but the welcome oblivion of sleep evaded her.
It was going to be a pity if Tessa Hetherington insisted on regarding her as a rival. It would have been nice, thought Kate, if the two of them could have worked together side by side, perhaps have become friends. She sighed deeply. Fat chance of that now! She wondered if she would be able to convince the other girl that she had no intention of trying to poach Grant Kershaw. Bother the man—he seemed to put her back up every time they met! She turned on to her side and snuggled up to the pillow, and eventually she slept.
When she awoke it was six o’clock and she felt vastly refreshed. Stripping off her cotton frock, she stepped into the small bathroom and stood beneath a cool shower. The icy jets of water hit her skin with a welcome shock.
Clad only in a towel, she opened up her one suitcase and took out underwear, blue jeans and a bright yellow T-shirt. She would have to let her aunt know which clothes to send, she decided as she quickly dressed—although she doubted that much happened in Dampland in the way of social life.
The auxiliary had shown her the hospital canteen and told her that it opened at seven. She would just grab a light meal and have an early night.
She was startled from her reverie by a loud rap on the door. She swiftly glanced in the wall mirror before answering. The simple outfit emphasised her slender curves and her hair lay like wet seaweed down her back giving her an ethereal quality.
She peered round the door and immediately recognised the cheerful face of Craig Anderson. He had removed his white coat and looked casual in blue checked shirt and white linen slacks. His fair hair gleamed in the light from the setting sun, which was slowly slipping down behind distant mountain peaks.
The vivid scenery reminded Kate that essentially she was on a working holiday, and she felt her mood lift.
‘Hi,’ he said, ‘I didn’t know if you’d be busy?’ He looked at her anxiously. ‘I was just thinking you might be lonely, not knowing anyone yet, so I wondered if you’d like to drive into Dampland tonight. I could show you the Port itself, and then we could grab a bite to eat.’ He crinkled up his face expressively. ‘It sure beats eating in the staff canteen! What do you say?’
‘I’d love to,’ replied Kate, smiling up at him. ‘But only if you can give me twenty minutes to dry my hair and change.’
‘No problem,’ he answered. ‘Although I think you look fine just the way you are now!’ He glanced at her admiringly. ‘Listen, do you realise that thanks to our fierce Sister Hetherington, I don’t even know your christian name, and I’m far too much of an Aussie to call you ‘Miss Carpenter’ all evening!’
‘It’s Kate!’ she laughed, liking this congenial young man enormously.
‘Pleased to meet you, Kate! I only live round the other side of the hospital. Past the Social Club,’ he pointed. ‘I’ll pick you up here in my car, in about thirty minutes, if that’s OK?’
‘That’ll be great.’
‘Right, see you later.’ He tossed his white coat over his shoulder and walked off in the direction of his flat with a final wave.
Kate was waiting outside her flat exactly thirty minutes later, sitting on the grass and making the most of the last of the day’s sun, when a shiny black sports car screeched to a halt beside her.
‘Why it’s an MG!’ she exclaimed delightedly.
‘Sure is,’ Craig replied proudly as he opened the passenger door for her. “You’re not worried about your hair, are you! I can always put the roof up.’
‘No fear,’ said Kate firmly. She scrabbled around in her bag and produce an elastic band. ‘I can easily tie my hair back with this. Personally, I can’t think of anything nicer than driving with the roof down on such a warm evening.’
‘I agree,’ said Craig. ‘It took a lot of time and trouble to get this little gem shipped out all the way from England—but she’s been worth every penny.’
The powerful car roared off. They drove at speed along the wide, straight roads until they reached the outskirts of Dampland. Darkness was falling as they came into sight of the sea.
Huge cargo boats, like great hulking animals, lay in the dock, waiting for their loads of iron-ore from the local mine. Lights glittered along the quayside. The air was warm with the tangy scent of salt, and Kate chuckled with the delight of it all.
Craig parked the car and helped her out.
‘We’re going to a little restaurant a few streets away,’ he explained. ‘It’s a fairly basic place but, believe me, they do the fattest, juiciest prawns in the State, and you won’t eat a better steak anywhere else in the world!’
‘Good! I’m absolutely starving,’ said Kate fervently.
They made their way past the small modern shops which mostly contained goods relating to the port and fishing industry.’
The restaurant was tiny and named The Witches’ Cauldron. Inside, it was dark but cosy with small wooden tables, each lit by a candle. Netting was festooned over the ceiling and walls and a replica Jolly Roger flag hung over the small bar.
A young waitress showed them to a table for two at the back of the restaurant right beside a gaudily painted pillar. Kate looked around the corner at the other tables. It was still early and there was only one other couple, apart from themsleves.
‘It gets packed out later,’ said Craig as he handed her the menu. ‘Half the hospital seem to eat in here. Would you like to try a glass of our superb Australian wine, Kate?’
‘Yes, I’d love to,’ she replied. ‘And I’ll accept your recommendations on the food too.’
‘Good,’ He grinned disarmingly at her. ‘In that case we’ll start with the garlic prawns, followed by a pepper steak and salad. If you’ve any room left after that, which I doubt, you can have your pick of the dessert trolley.’
‘That sounds wonderful,’ she said enthusiastically.
Craig gave the waitress their order and she brought over a bottle of white wine in an ice-bucket, which she placed on their table. When he had poured them both a glass, and Kate had given her approval of the chilled, fruity wine, Craig leaned back in his chair and looked at her speculatively.
‘So what brings a nice English girl like you to a place like Dampland, or musn’t I ask?
‘Oh, you can ask, all right,’ she teased him. ‘But I don’t have to tell you!’ She certainly wasn’t going to be accused of husband hunting again! ‘Seriously though, I needed a break, let’s just say from a number of things.’ She twirled the stem of the glass between her fingers. ‘I have relatives in Perth and it seemed an ideal time to pay them a visit. I’m specifically here in Dampland because I fancied a change from the city, and because I want to see some of the Australian bush.’
‘And boyfriends?’ he queried.
‘Straight to the point, aren’t you?’ laughed Kate. ‘I’m young free and single at the moment.’ She saw his eyes light up. ‘But that’s precisely how I want it to stay just now. Hard work and sight seeing is what I’m after.’
‘Well, we’ll have to see about that,’ he replied. ‘We Andersons respond well to a challenge.’
At that moment the waitress appeared with two steaming bowls, which she placed in front of them.
‘Dip your bread in the sauce,’ advised Craig. ‘It’s delicious.’
‘Thank heavens I shall be wearing a mask in theatres tomorrow,’ giggled Kate, as she speared a gigantic prawn. ‘All this garlic wouldn’t make me very popular with the other staff!’ She took a sip of wine. ‘How long have you worked at Dampland, Craig?’
‘Only six months,’ he replied. ‘It’s like a year’s sabbatical for me really, while I make up my mind what I want to do. My father wants me to join him in general practice in the city, which would guarantee me a secure future, but I have a hankering to do paediatrics. I love kids. I’ve been using my time here to study for the paediatric membership.’ He smiled at her. ‘It’s quite a friendly little hospital, really. Although in theatres you’re fairly cut off from the rest of the world, of course. There’s a good little staff club with a games room. About twice a month they organise a treasure hunt in the late afternoon, which is set by one of the doctors. Afterwards there’s usually a party. It’s good fun.’
‘It sounds it,’ said Kate, mopping up the last of the sauce with a hunk of bread.
The waitress replaced the empty bowls with two steaks.
‘My goodness!’ exclaimed Kate. ‘There’s hardly enough room on the plate—I’ll never manage all this!’
‘Just wait until you try it,’ promised Craig.
Presently, warm and replete, Kate sat back in her chair. ‘That was absolutely delicious, Craig. I couldn’t eat another mouthful.’
She smiled at him and, on impulse, he reached forward and took her hand.
‘It’s going to be great having you here, Kate.’
She gently disengaged her hand from his. She didn’t really want to encourage him to start making romantic overtures.
The room was beginning to fill up. Kate looked up to see a couple standing at the door and realised, from the squeal of recognition uttered by the female, that it was Tessa Hetherington, a proprietorial gleam in her eye as she linked arms with Grant Kershaw.
It was hard to believe that this was the same Sister Hetherington who had looked almost forbidding in the severe lines of her immaculate theatre uniform. Her hair, which had been hidden by a cap, now cascaded down her back in a froth of raven curls. Her dress was of a swirly black material, shot with gold, and her lips gleamed scarlet.
Kate, wearing a simple navy silk dress, her hair pinned into a soft chignon, felt almost gauche and unsophisticated in comparison to the glamorous creature who was picking her way through the tables towards them.
She wondered if Tessa had seen Craig Anderson holding her hand. Grant Kershaw had glanced dismissively at their table and was now ordering a drink at the bar.
‘Hello again!’ giggled Tessa as she approached their table, teetering on impossibly high-heeled shoes. ‘Glad to see you two young things enjoying yourselves.’
Something must have happened to have lightened her mood so much, Kate supposed, as she smiled politely at her senior.
‘I trust that you’ll get Nurse Carpenter home on time, Dr. Anderson. She’s got a busy day ahead of her tomorrow.’ Tessa smiled rather glassily at Kate. ‘Grant and I are out celebrating,’ she confided. ‘It’s our four month anniversary tonight.’
Kate looked across the room to where Grant Kershaw sat staring moodily into space, his profile stony. If that’s his expression when celebrating, she thought, I’d hate to meet him if he’d just received bad news!
Tessa followed the direction of her glance, and frowned. ‘I must get back to Grant,’ she said. ‘He’s absolutely starving.’ She giggled again. ‘Bye-bye, Craig. Be a good boy!’ She retreated back across the room and stood close to the surgeon, whispering something in his ear.
He turned round and stared at Kate, with a naked contempt in his eyes that startled her. What on earth had Tessa Hetherington said to him! Suddenly she felt extremely weary.
‘Come on, Craig,’ she said. ‘I’d like to go now, please.’
‘Sure.’ The affable young man looked anxiously at her and signalled for the bill. ‘There’s nothing wrong, is there, Kate? I thought Tess was acting rather strangely.’ His eyes searched her face, as if looking for clues.
‘Nothing’s wrong,’ replied Kate, making an effort to smile. ‘It’s just that the journey and the excitement seem to have caught up with me, and I’m really rather tired. And as Tessa has just promised me a busy day in theatre tomorrow, I’d better get my beauty sleep!’
Craig nodded and placed a wad of dollars next to the bill.
‘No, please, Craig—let me pay half.’ Kate rummaged around for her purse, but the Australian was adamant.
‘My treat,’ he smiled. ‘I’ll let you cook me dinner some night, how about that?’
‘Done,’ she replied. ‘Just so long as you like burnt toast!’
Laughing, they made their way out of the restaurant. Kate studiously avoided looking at either Grant or Tessa, but she could hear the latter pealing with merriment as they left the room.
Darkness had done little to stifle the ever-present heat of the Australian summer, and Kate was grateful for the breeze generated by the open-topped sports car. Thankful too that the noise of the engine obviated the need for any conversation with Craig.
Her encounters with Grant Kershaw were proving embarassingly antagonistic, she decided. It was probably a good thing that Tessa Hetherington seemed hell-bent on preventing her scrubbing for him. She must be very insecure in the relationship, though, if she suspected every new nurse at Dampland of having designs on her man. Kate remembered the blonde she had seen with him at the party in Perth. Perhaps Tessa’s fears were justified after all.
Well, she needn’t worry about me, reflected Kate. The last thing in the world she needed was involvement with another faithless man.
Yet why was it that she found it difficult to suppress a shudder of excitement when looking at that cold, hard face? Why was it that the tentative advances of the handsome young man beside her left her unmoved? A man like Craig Anderson might be just the balm which her wounded spirit needed. She turned to look at him, his thick blond hair tousled by the wind.
He sensed her looking and patted her hand. ‘Feeling better?’ he enquired.
‘Much better,’ she replied. ‘It was a great supper, and this is a great car.’
He beamed appreciatively as the lights of the hospital appeared in the distance. As they drew nearer, Kate could see that the lights of the operating theatres were blazing. There must be an emergency, she thought.
Theatres had a full operating team on standby at all times, since illness was no respecter of hospital routine! Theatre hours were from eight to five, when elective surgery was performed, but surgical emergencies took precedence over everything else, and staff could often find themselves working all night long, only to have to continue operating the following day.
The MG drew up outside Kate’s apartment, and Craig got out of the car first to open the door for her.
‘Thanks for a lovely evening,’ she smiled at him.
‘My pleasure. I probably won’t see anything of you tomorrow, since you’ll be in the ivory tower! Best of luck on your first day anyway.’
‘Thanks, Craig.’ She stood on tiptoe to give him a light kiss on the cheek, and watched him drive away from her doorway.
The flat had remained cool and, pausing only to wash and brush her teeth, she was soon ready for bed.
She set her alarm clock for seven o’clock and was asleep almost before her head hit the pillow.
CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_b8ee4a23-523b-511b-8e78-fac0deadd942)
THE EARLY morning sun was already fierce on Kate’s bare head as she made her way from the apartment to the hospital block. Her fatigue had been genuine and, despite the rather troubled encounters with Tessa and Grant, she had experienced a deep and dreamless sleep. As she travelled up in the lift, her heart quickened with anticipation. She was determined to forget and enjoy her first day at work.
The suite was empty, save for the two night nurses, who were busily clearing up after an early emergency appendicectomy.
Kate preferred a leisurely start in the mornings, and a quick glance at her watch told her that she had over half an hour before ‘knife to skin’. First she went into the female changing room, where a short search produced a package of laundry labelled ‘Nurse Carpenter’. This contained fourteen plain white dresses and matching cotton kerchiefs. She was soon in uniform, and her hair, having disobeyed all the laws of gravity, now lay concealed beneath the cotton scarf. She slipped on the ubiquitous white clogs and left the changing room.
Thus garbed, it was difficult to differentiate Kate Carpenter from any other theatre nurse. A keen eye might notice that she had somehow contrived to make the white dress appear more fashionable and attractive than it actually was, since it clung so softly to her slender curves. Surgeons often joke that a theatre nurse is only recognisable by ‘ankles and eyes’, and indeed, many a theatre marriage had begun by eyes meeting across an operating table.
Kate made her way to the common room where a pot of coffee percolated merrily. The two night nurses were just pouring themselves cups, and one of them smiled and gestured to Kate to help herself. They departed in the direction of the Sister’s office, presumably to hand over to Tessa when she arrived.
Kate sipped the strong black coffee appreciatively, and scanned the notice board to see what the morning’s list was. There were two theatres at Dampland Hospital, and Kate was assigned to the smaller Theatre Two as scrub nurse. The surgeon was a Dr. Manners and the anaesthetist a Dr. Lillywhite.
She noted that Theatre One had been given over to Dr. Kershaw, with Sister Hetherington scrubbing for him.
Kate assumed that Dr. Manners was the senior house officer, as he had a fairly basic list of surgical operations. There were two large lipomas to be removed, one stripping of varicose veins and a cystoscopy all of which Kate felt that she could have scrubbed for in her sleep. Still, it was over four months since she had been in theatres and it was just possible that she might have become rusty.
Dr. Kershaw’s list was the grander and more delicate list of a senior surgeon, where the potential for complications was that much greater. His list began with two thyroidectomies, and Kate felt a wave of envy. She had twice had the honour of working with John Garvie-Fozard, surgical consultant at St. Jude’s, and one of England’s leading authorities on this intricate operation.
The over-activity of the thyroid gland which most often caused it’s partial or total removal presented great hazards to the surgeon. It’s close proximity to the trachea in the neck raised the threat of airway obstruction, and the rich supply of blood vessels to the area, meant that the risk of severe haemorrhage was never far away.
If, to perform this operation, the surgeon needed both speed and precision, then the scrub nurse certainly needed to match those qualities.
One of Kate’s proudest moments had been at the end of a particularly tricky morning’s list, when Mr. Garvie-Fozard had pulled off his gloves and turned to her.
‘Very well done indeed, Nurse,’ he said. ‘I see I must be grateful you weren’t motivated to be a surgeon, or no doubt my position would be in jeopardy!’ The old man’s eyes had twinkled at her, and in two sentences he had vanquished his reputation as Fierce Fozard for ever.
The opening and shutting of the lift doors, together with called greetings, indicated that more of the day staff were beginning to arrive, and Kate walked into Theatre Two to prepare her instruments.
The anaesthetic nurse had not yet arrived, neither had Kate’s runner. The runner was usually a student nurse who was required to run and fetch any different instruments or sutures which Kate might suddenly need during the operation, as the scrub nurse always stays sterile and must not move away from the clean field of the operating table.
Kate quickly wiped down all the surfaces in the theatre with a solution of disinfectant and water, then place an unopened dressing pack on the trolley.
At that moment a nurse burst through the swing doors and beamed anxiously at Kate. She was a big strapping girl and, try as she might, hadn’t been able to hide her orange hair beneath the theatre cap.
‘I’m sorry if I’m late, Staff,’ she said, in a broad Irish accent.
‘You’re not—I’m early,’ explained Kate, smiling. ‘What’s your name, Nurse?’
‘It’s Carmel O’Connor, Staff. It’s mouthful, I know, true enough!’ She burst into an infectious laugh, ‘I trained in England though.’ She mentioned the name of a large hospital on the outskirts of London, which Kate had heard of. ‘We all heard you trained at St. Jude’s.’ The Irish girl spoke with a trace of awe in her voice, and Kate was just about to reply when Sister Hetherington swept in.
‘Get cracking, O’Connor,’ she ordered perfunctorily and the big Irish girl immediately scuttled off.
Tessa Hetherington’s gaze took in the whole scene, from the gleaming surfaces to the unopened pack.
‘Well done, Staff,’ she said grudgingly. ‘Nice to see you’ve used a bit of initiative. To be honest, I get irritated with trained staff who expect to be spoon fed.’
‘Thank you, Sister,’ replied Kate demurely. The Australian girl looked strained and tired, she thought, noting dark shadows and a pallor lying beneath the tan. Probably dancing the night away in the arms of her surgeon.
‘And now I must go and prepare my theatre for Dr. Kershaw.’
Her tone could hardly have been more possessive, mused Kate as she waited for Tessa to dismiss her.
‘There are two things which you ought to know, Nurse Carpenter. The first is that I insist on the utmost formality in my theatres. I do not allow first-name terms during operations. Even Dr. Kershaw and myself adhere to that rule.’ She paused to allow a small smile to play on her lips. ‘The other is quite straightforward—you’ll find all the individual surgeons’ likes and dislikes printed in a red book. There are copies in each of the anaesthetic rooms and there’s also one in my office. All right, Staff, you can get on now.’
She nodded and disappeared through the swing doors. As if by clockwork, Carmel O’Connor’s face appeared round the door of the anaesthetic room.
‘Sure, and it’s like Romeo and Juliet here,’ she quipped, widening her eyes expressively. ‘What’s your glove size, please, Staff?’
‘Six and a half, thank you,’ replied Kate, managing with difficulty to hold back a smile. She suspected that Sister Hetherington was not popular with the junior staff, certainly Nurse O’Connnor didn’t seem to hold her in any particular esteem. Kate realised, however, that even if she might privately agree with Carmel’s opinion, it would never do to demonstrate her disloyalty to her senior. So she declined any comment on Sister’s love life and set off into the scrub room.
As she carefully soaped her hands and arms up to the elbow with antiseptic solution, and scrubbed her hands and nails for the obligatory two and half minutes, she called to the junior.
‘Please check whether Dr. Manners has any extra requirements for his lipoma removals. Also I’d like to know his glove size, and which sutures he prefers.’
‘The answer is no, eight and catgut!’ said a voice behind her, Kate turned to find a pair of earnest eyes peering at her from behind wire-trim spectacles. The small surgeon grinned at her.
‘Hi. I’m John Manners, but you’ll forgive me if I don’t shake hands,’ he laughed.
‘Hello, Dr. Manners. Kate Carpenter—I’m scrubbing for your morning list, and mostly probably your afternoon one too, and no, I’ll be jolly angry if you put any of your nasty germs near my nice clean hands!’ Kate began to dry them carefully on a sterile towel brought in by Nurse O’Connor.
‘I must just have a word with the gas-man,’ explained John Manners. ‘I look forward to seeing you in theatre.’
Carmel helped Kate on with a sterile green gown and tied the tapes up for her. Kate was now ready to prepare her pack, putting all the instruments in order, counting and checking them and holding sterile gallipots for her runner to pour skin cleaning solutions into.
Meanwhile, the patient was being transported by trolley from the ward to the anaesthetic room, and while the anaesthetic nurse established that the correct patient was about to have the correct operation, the anaesthetist or ‘gas-man’ was checking the cylinders of gas in both rooms.
The anaesthetised patient was wheeled in, accompanied by the anaesthetist and his nurse, and carefully lifted by two theatre porters on to the narrow table.
Kate surrounded his nude abdomen with sterile towels and motioned to Carmel to point the strong light at the operation site, which John Manners had marked on the patient’s skin in indelible ink the previous day.
The gowned and masked surgeon stepped forward and generously washed the abdomen with the large wad of soaked cotton wool which Kate handed to him. This done, he held up his right hand, and she firmly slapped into it the scalpel she had ready. The initial incision was made—knife to skin—John Manners glanced up at the anaesthetist, who nodded, and the operation progressed.
This was the part of the job which Kate loved the most. To a great extent the skills of a scrub nurse can be taught, but Kate had the extra qualities of anticipation and speed. During her theatre course she had purloined various surgical text books, reading up on basic procedures and familiarising herself with the normal sequence of steps in an operation.
She watched John Manners’ hands closely and he soon found that he was able to hold his hand out for an instrument and she would put the right one there, without having to be asked.
She judged Dr. Manners to be a competent surgeon—he worked steadily and neatly. Kate knew that the real test of a surgeon came, not during the routine operations, which ran normally and which he would have performed many times over, but during a surgical emergency when he would be required to use his initiative to make major decisions. A wrong decision could prove potentially fatal, and so the onus on the surgeon to predict correctly was enormous. Instinct might prompt him to play safe, but the irony lay in the fact that all the truly great surgeons took risks.
However, there was no sign of any crisis as the list proceded smoothly. The two lipoma removals were followed by the varicose veins, which proved slightly more difficult to strip than John Manners had expected.
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