A Star Looks Down Read online

  indeed, she had discovered during the years that they had lived there

  that life in a city wasn't at all the same thing as life at

  Chifney--there, if you were ill, the whole village knew, willing

  helpers rallied round to feed the cat, mow the grass, leave delicious

  baked custards on the doorstep, fetch the children from school, and

  when her father had been alive he could always be depended upon to help

  out if funds were low.

  She very much doubted if her stepbrother did that.

  The Dutch profess or was in the theatre the next morning.

  The first case was a kidney transplant, to be done by Profess or Mac

  Donald, one of the leading men in that line of surgery.

  It was soon apparent that he and the Dutchman were old friends; Beth

  could hear their voices in the surgeons' changing room, the Scotsman's

  deliberate and a little gruff, his companion's deep and slow.

  They came out together presently and went into theatre, and when Beth

  went in with the patient they were scrubbed, standing facing each other

  across the operating table.

  The surgical registrar was scrubbed too and so were two house surgeons;

  the place teemed with white and green-clad figures.

  Beth, thinking of the long hours ahead, was glad that she didn't have

  to stay in theatre; she would be kept busy with patients from the other

  theatres and it would be later--much later--when she would come back to

  collect her patient once more.

  She handed him over now to the theatre staff and slipped away quickly

  to fetch the next case for Theatre Two.

  It was hours later when she went to collect the kidney transplant.

  She was off duty at four- thirty again, but she saw that she could

  forget that; the man wasn't well and needed constant attention from

  both herself and Harriet King; besides that, his drain blocked and she

  had to buzz for the registrar, and while they were getting it to work

  again the patient stopped breathing, so that she had to leave the drain

  to him and begin resuscitation while someone went hot-foot for Profess

  or Mac Donald.

  He came immediately, straight from the changing room, bringing Profess

  or van Zeust with him, still in their theatre trousers and vests, their

  caps on their heads.

  They might have looked faintly absurd if it hadn't been for their air

  of quiet authority.

  It was a good deal later by the time the man was fit to move down to

  the Intensive Care Unit, and there was a great mass of clearing up to

  do after that.

  It was much later still when Beth crossed the courtyard on the way to

  fetch her bicycle and saw Profess or van Zeust again.

  He looked quite different now; immaculate in a conventional,

  beautifully tailored suit.

  Out of the tail of her eye she saw him get into a massive Citroen CS,

  and decided that its size suited his vast proportions very nicely.

  He had gone by the time she had got her bike out and got back to the

  courtyard.

  She didn't see him for several days after that; indeed, beyond an

  annoying persistence her mind had developed in thinking of him, he

  should have been, as it were, a closed book.

  It was William who made it difficult for her to make an end of him; he

  talked about the Dutchman incessantly, not only when he got home in the

  evenings when he was free to do so, but during their breakfasts

  together; a meal usually eaten at speed and with no more conversation

  than was absolutely necessary.

  The profess or was, according to her brother, not at all a bad

  fellow--knew his stuff but didn't have a big head about it, and what

  was more, he had been a first-class rugger player.

  "Doesn't he play any more?" asked Beth, swallowing bread and butter as

  fast as she could.

  William gave her a withering look.

  "Good lord, he's getting on for forty at least, he's thirty-six, and

  that's pretty old.

  ' She supposed it was; in twelve years' time she would be that age

  herself, although forty in a man didn't sound old at all, whereas in a

  woman.

  .

  .

  She wondered with vague worry where she would be when she was forty.

  In all probability not married, for her looks were hardly likely to

  improve with age.

  It was the following day after this not very satisfying conversation

  that the theatre was alerted for an emergency.

  They had had a busy morning and a break for dinner would be nice, so

  that there was an involuntary sigh when the Theatre Super, Miss Toms,

  put her head round the door with the news.

  "Theatre One," she said crisply.

  "Miss Partridge, take one of the porters and go down to Private Wing

  the patient is to come up at once.

  Acute appendix.

  ' Beth, half way out of her theatre dress, put it back on again.

  Miss Toms, fortyish, elegant and always polite, was obeyed by everyone,

  and that included the housemen, even at times the consultants, although

  they were probably unaware of it.

  She had a habit of addressing everyone by their correct names, too,

  which somehow made the theatre into a more human place to work in.

  She smiled at Beth now.

  "You shall be relieved as soon as possible," she promised, 'but this is

  rather a special patient-Mevrouw Thor becke, Profess or van Zeust's

  sister.

  I imagine he will be coming into theatre.

  Profess or Mac Donald will be operating.

  ' Beth nodded and Miss Toms sailed away to scrub up; she always

  scrubbed for staff or staff's family, and although the profess or

  wasn't quite staff, his sister would be accorded the same treatment.

  The patient was a pretty woman even though she was a sickly pale green

  and her fair hair was damp with sweat.

  She was game too, for she managed a smile as they got her on to the

  trolley, she even managed a murmured hullo and muttered in English: "T

  didn't believe it, but they are violet.

  ' The remark mystified Beth, but there was so much to do just then that

  she forgot it immediately.

  Miss Toms was right; Profess or van Zeust was in the anaesthetic room

  when they reached it, gowned and masked and talking to Profess or Mac

  Donald and Doctor Moore, the senior anaesthetist, but he didn't stay

  long, only to say something in a cheerful voice and in his own language

  to his sister.

  He didn't look at Beth at all.

  It was a nasty appendix, on the point of perforation.

  The two men grunted with satisfaction when the offending thing had been

  removed and Profess or Mac donald began to close the small wound.

  "Who is looking after the brats?

  ' he asked his companion.

  The Dutchman snipped a suture thread.

  "No time to make any arrangements--not yet.

  I'll have to get hold of someone, I suppose; Mar tina won't feel like

  coping with them for a few weeks.

  They're a match for anyone in the best of health, let alone for anyone

  a little under the weather.

  ' "When's Dirk due back?

  ' "Another six weeks.

  ' He tossed the stitch sc
issors on to the Mayo's table and stood back a

  little.

  He smiled over his mask at Miss Toms and then said: "Thanks, George,

  I'll hang around if I may.

  ' The two men went out together and Beth came from the corner where she

  had been waiting to take over the care of the patient.

  It was quiet in the Recovery Room; there were no other patients there,

  most of the staff were still at their dinner and Miss Toms, having

  performed her duties with the ease and perfection expected of her, had

  disappeared too.

  A theatre staff nurse and a student were getting the theatre ready once

  more for the afternoon list, in ten minutes or so the rest of them

  would be streaming back and the skeleton staff which had remained

  behind would be free to go to their dinners.

  But for the moment Beth was occupied with her patient; there was little

  enough to do, as she would be round in a few minutes indeed, as Beth

  inspected the quiet face on the trolley, she could see a faint tremor

  of the eyelids, so that she began the usual routine of hand patting

  and

  "Wake up, Mevrouw Thor becke, it's all over, everything's fine.

  ' She had to do this several times before her patient responded with a

  languid lifting of her eyelids and a mumbled word or two which made no

  sense at all.

  Beth made her observations and charted them and looked at her

  carefully; she was quite fit to go back to the ward, but no patient

  might be sent back from the Recovery Room until they opened their eyes

  properly, told the nurse their name and could state if they were in

  pain or not.

  "Are you in pain?

  ' asked Beth in her nice quiet voice.

  Mevrouw Thor becke nodded, her eyes shut.

  "T'll give you something for it.

  Will you tell me your name?

  ' "You know who I am I wish to sleep.

  ' Her voice was a mumble and a frown came and went.

  "I have a pain.

  ' "OK," said Beth, talking to herself, 'you shall have something now,

  though you're not really supposed to have it until you're quite

  round.

  Hang on a sec.

  .

  ' Mevrouw Thor becke mumbled crossly in her own language as Beth

  checked her pulse.

  The smallest of sounds behind her made her look over her shoulder.

  Profess or van Zeust was standing quite close, leaning against one of

  the trolleys and her eyes brightened at the sight of him.

  "Oh.

  what luck that you should turn up just when I could do with you," she

  exclaimed sunnily, and he, who had been there all the time, smiled a

  little.

  "You need help?

  ' he inquired mildly.

  "Well, Mevrouw Thor becke is almost round and we're not supposed to

  give a post-op.

  until the patient is quite conscious, but now you're here, perhaps

  you'd give me the all clear to give her some Pethedine before she goes

  downstairs.

  She's quite OK, but not quite with us yet.

  ' The profess or's mouth twitched just a little.

  "T'll take the responsibility.

  Staff Nurse- ram home whatever you've got there and get her down to the

  ward, will you?

  Doctor Moore asked me to look in; he was called away to some

  emergency.

  ' He walked unhurriedly over to the trolley and took his sister's pulse

  and when she opened an unwilling eye said something to her in a soft

  voice.

  "She's fine," he declared, and went away so quietly that Beth didn't

  realize that he had gone.

  She delivered her patient, drowsy now, to the Ward Sister on the

  Private Wing and sped back to the Recovery Room.

  Sister Collins and Harriet would be back in a matter of minutes; she

  started to clear up with Mrs Wise, the orderly, to help her and they

  were just finished when the other two returned.

  The afternoon went quickly after that, but then it nearly always did,

  there was always so much to do.

  The list was a long one and although Beth was due off at half past

  seven, it was considerably later than that when at last she left the

  theatre.

  It had been William's half day and she was surprised and touched to

  find that he had laid the table and made a few rather inadequate

  preparations for supper.

  He followed her into the kitchen while she cooked it, something he

  seldom did, so that she asked: "Aren't you going out?

  You usually do on your half day did Wendy stand you up?

  ' Wendy was the current young lady of his

  s fancy; she was a physiotherapist whom no one liked much because she

  gave herself airs, but Beth had suffered an unending catalogue of her

  perfections with sisterly patience, knowing that within a week or two

  her brother's eye would have been caught by some other girl.

  They were all alike, the young doctors and students, and no one took

  them seriously, although a few fell permanently in love and got engaged

  or even married.

  But William would be too busy for the next year or so to think about

  marrying; he had only just got started on his career and at the end of

  his six months with Profess or Mac donald's firm he would be joining

  the medical side if they would have him, and after that it would be a

  year--two years, at least, before he could apply for a post as

  registrar.

  She dished up their meal and carried it through to the sitting room

  while he explained that Wendy hadn't stood him up; he had decided to

  stay home because he wanted to talk to her.

  The?

  ' exclaimed Beth, much astonished at this brotherly attention.

  "Whatever for?

  I haven't any money till payday.

  .

  .

  ' William frowned.

  "It's not that," he said impatiently.

  "You've got a week's holiday starting on Sunday, haven't you, Beth?

  ' He sounded uneasy all at once.

  She began her supper and then paused to pour their coffee.

  "Yes--fancy you remembering that.

  But it's only Tuesday, you know, and I'm not going anywhere.

  Do you want the flat to yourself or something?

  ' "Don't be dim.

  The thing is, if you've nothing to do I know of someone who wants to

  borrow you.

  .

  ' "Borrow me?

  whatever for?

  Anyway, I'm on holiday--is it one of those agencies?

  ' "No, as a matter of fact, it's Profess or van Zeust.

  You had his sister in theatre today, didn't you?

  Well, he's been left high and dry with her four children; they're

  staying with him.

  He mentioned it to old Mac, and he knew--lord knows how--that you had a

  holiday coming up, and he suggested that you might step into the

  breach--just for a week, you know, and look after them.

  You'd be paid.

  ' Beth's bosom swelled with indignation.

  "Well, whatever next--why me?

  Aren't there agencies for nannies and mothers' helps?

  Why can't he go to one of them?

  I've no intention.

  .

  .

  ' She caught William's eye and something in it made her say: "Yo
u

  wretch--you said I would!

  ' She drew a deep breath, her eyes very purple, but before she could

  speak he said hastily: "Oh, be a sport, Beth--after all, you're not

  doing anything and it might be fun.

  ' "Fun?

  ' Her voice was shrill with annoyance.

  "Have you ever looked after four children?

  They're not even English!

  ' She paused and added triumphantly: "So I can't.

  ' "They've had an English nanny for years.

  I don't know much about it, but I believe they live somewhere behind

  Harrods--quite super, and you're bound to get heaps of free time.