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  DAMSEL IN GREEN [070-066-4.8]

  By: BETTY NE ELS

  Synopsis:

  A Classic Romantic Novel

  Dear Reader,

  Looking back over the years, I find it hard to realise that twenty-six of

  them have gone by since I wrote my first book--Sister Peters in Amsterdam.

  It wasn't until I started writing about her that I found that once I had

  started writing, nothing was going to make me stop--and at that time I had no

  intention of sending it to a publisher. It was my daughter who urged me to

  try my luck.

  I shall never forget the thrill of having my first book accepted. A thrill I

  still get each time a new story is accepted. Writing to me is such a

  pleasure, and seeing a story unfolding on my old typewriter is like watching

  a film and wondering how it will end. Happily of course.

  To have so many of my books re-published is such a delightful thing to happen

  and I can only hope that those who read them will share my pleasure in seeing

  them on the bookshelves again. and enjoy reading them.

  DAMSEL IN GREEN

  By: BETTY NE ELS

  CHAPTER ONE

  the church clock across the street chimed the half hour, and Miss Georgina

  Rodman, already walking down the corridor leading to Casualty, put on a

  sudden desperate turn of speed. There was a chance--a faint one--that she

  might arrive on duty before Staff Nurse Gregg; if she didn't, it would mean

  the third time late on duty in a week, and Gregg would probably report her to

  Sister. It would be of no use making excuses, for Gregg never needed to make

  excuses for herself, and couldn't understand why anyone else should either.

  Nurse Rodman wasted precious breath on a sigh as she ran, for her excuses

  were good ones-on Monday it had been the ward maid falling downstairs with

  that large part of porridge; the porridge hadn't been hot, but extremely

  sticky;

  thinking about it, Georgina couldn't see how she could have ignored the

  girl's cries for help. She had been late on Thursday too, when she had met a

  rather down-trodden old lady who had been told to attend for a barium meal at

  seven-thirty in the morning, and didn't know where to go. It had only taken

  a very short time to walk with her to X-Ray--just long enough for Staff Nurse

  to remark triumphantly:

  "Late again. Nurse! You should know better-how can you hope to set a good

  example to the juniors? And you waiting for the results of your Finals!"

  Her tone had implied that Georgina need not expect good news. And now it was

  Saturday, and she was late again, for she had stopped to ask Payne the head

  porter how his wife was feeling;

  the poor soul had been ill for weeks, and Payne had been looking sad.

  She pulled up outside Cas swing doors and drew a breath. It was a pity that

  life didn't allow you time to dawdle a little on the way. She opened the

  doors, to find Staff Nurse Gregg waiting for her--doing the dispensary, of

  course, because that was her particular job in the mornings; but she had

  dragged the basket into the centre of the room so that she wouldn't miss

  Georgina.

  She looked pained.

  "Late again. Nurse Rodman--the third time this week. I shall have to report

  you to Sister--there might have been a terrific emergency on."

  Georgina said, "Yes, Staff because it was expected of her, and went to

  twiddle the knobs of the sterilizers in an expert way and count the packets

  of dressings and instruments CSD had just sent down. The two junior nurses

  had already prepared the cubicles for the day. She slipped quietly in and

  out of them, making sure that everything was just so. The first contained a

  tired-looking boy, a bare, grubby foot on the stool before him, clutching his

  shoe and sock.

  "Trodden on a rusty nail?" asked Georgina in a friendly voice. She was

  already busy cleaning it up.

  "How did you know?" asked the boy.

  "We get a great many--it's a common accident. It'll be fine in a day or

  two--you won't need to stop work, but I'll have to give you an injection."

  She gave him a nice wide smile and went to find Staff. She wasn't a trained

  nurse yet--she couldn't give ATS without getting permission. Gregg gave it

  with the air of conferring a great honour.

  "Why didn't you leave the boy? It's nothing urgent," she wanted to know.

  "He's on night work, it would be a shame to keep him from his bed."

  Staff frowned.

  "You'll never make a good nurse," she grumbled, 'you're so impetuous. "

  Georgina gave the injection, wondering why she was impetuous. Surely it was

  plain common sense to clear the cubicles of the minor cases as quickly as

  possible, otherwise there would be such a bottleneck later on in the morning.

  She wrote up the boy's card, filled in the day book, tidied up neatly and

  went into the last cubicle. Both nurses were in it, as she had guessed they

  would be. They grinned cheerfully at her, and the youngest and prettiest

  said.

  "Oh, George, isn't she in a foul mood?"

  Georgina grinned back.

  "It'll be worse if you don't get a porter to change the oxygen in Two.. and

  there aren't any dressings in Four."

  There was a hurried movement for the door and she added, "I've seen to the

  dressings, but it'll look better if you report the oxygen."

  They stopped at the door.

  "George," said the nurse who had forgotten the dressings, 'we wish you were

  staff. "

  "That's nice of you both, but I expect I've failed my State, you know."

  She turned to the tiny mirror on the wall to straighten her cap. She had

  fine, silky hair, and the cap needed a great many pins to keep it at a

  dignified angle. It was pretty hair, too, light brown and long, and she

  screwed it up into a severe plaited knob at the back because it was quick to

  do and stayed tidy that way. She looked at herself in the little square of

  glass while she replanted some pins. The face that looked back at her was a

  good-looking one; not pretty--the nose was a trifle too large and the chin a

  thought too square, but the brown eyes were large and clear, like a child's;

  their lashes long and curling and thick. The mouth was large too, a generous

  mouth with corners that turned up and smiled readily. She was neither tall

  nor short and a little on the plump side and looked considerably younger than

  her twenty- three years. She gave the bib of her apron a tweak and made for

  the door--it was time to dish the bowls.

  She had just put the last two in their appointed places when Sister appeared

  in the doorway. She said, "Good morning. Nurse," in a voice which gave

  Georgina no clue as to her mood. She returned the greeting and wasn't at all

  surprised when Sister went on, "Come into the office, will you. Nurse

  Rodman?"

  Georgina put the Cheatle forceps back in their jar and followed Sister across

  the wide e
xpanse of Casualty to the little office. She shut the door behind

  her and stood in front of the desk, waiting to be told off.

  "Sit down," said Sister surprisingly. She put her hand in her pocket and

  handed Georgina a letter.

  "I thought you would like to have this as soon as possible," she said, and

  smiled.

  "If you would rather open it alone, I'll go outside."

  Georgina turned the envelope over and looked at its back; it told her

  nothing, so she looked at the front again.

  "Please don't go. Sister," she said at last.

  "If I open it quickly it won't be so bad."

  This piece of female reasoning was obviously one to which Sister could

  subscribe, for she nodded and said:

  "That's quite true--the quicker the better."

  Georgina undid the envelope with fingers which shook a little, and read the

  letter therein, then she folded it tidily and put it back in its envelope.

  When she spoke it was in a tone of great surprise.

  "I've passed," she said.

  "Well, of course you have, you silly girl," said Sister bracingly.

  "No one expected you to do otherwise." She smiled kindly, because it wasn't

  all that time ago that she had felt just the same herself.

  "You'd better go to Matron, hadn't you. Nurse?"

  Georgina got to her feet.

  "Yes, Sister, of course. Thank you for letting me come in here to read it."

  She got to the door and had the handle in her hand when she was astonished to

  hear Sister say, "Congratulations, George, You deserve it."

  Everyone called her George; it was inevitable with a name like hers.

  The housemen probably didn't know she had another name anyway, and even an

  occasional consultant had occasionally addressed her so; but no Sister had

  ever done so before. She flashed a delighted smile across the little room.

  It was, she realised, a very nice compliment.

  She was the last in the queue outside Matron's office--a gratifyingly long

  one. There was an excited and subdued hum of voices; everyone had passed; no

  one had let St. Athel's down. They went in one by one, and came out again

  in turn, looking pleased and slightly unbelieving. When it was at last her

  turn, Georgina knocked, entered and stood, as she had stood so many times

  before, in front of Matron's desk, only this time she was bidden to take a

  chair.

  Matron congratulated her with just the right mixture of motherliness

  authority and friendliness and then asked:

  "Have you any plans. Staff Nurse?"

  Georgina gave this careful thought. She hadn't dared to plan--there was some

  dim idea at the back of her head that she would like to go abroad--but there

  was Great-Aunt Polly to think of. She said finally, "No, Matron."

  "Splendid. I feel sure that when you have had a little more experience we

  shall be able to offer you a Sister's post."

  Georgina so far forgot herself as to goggle. Me? " she uttered, regardless

  of grammar.

  "A Sister? Would I do?" she asked ingenuously.

  Matron smiled benevolently.

  "You will do very well. Think about it--I believe you have a splendid career

  before you."

  Georgina found herself out in the corridor again. There was no one in sight,

  so she felt free to execute a few skips and jumps to relieve the excitement

  Matron's words had engendered. Even in these days of the nursing shortage,

  it was a signal honour to be offered the chance of a Sister's post within

  half an hour of becoming State Registered.

  She paused by one of the tall narrow windows overlooking the busy street

  outside. Matron had said, "A splendid career'. It occurred to Georgina at

  that moment that she didn't much care for the idea. At the back of her mind

  was a nebulous dream of a husband and children--an indistinct group rather

  like an out-of-focus family portrait hanging on some distant wall; the

  children indefinable in number and vague in appearance, and the man even more

  so, for she had no idea for whom she sought. Certainly she had not found him

  so far, and even if she did, she would have to wait and see if he felt the

  same way... Her train of thought was brought to an abrupt halt by the sound

  of the ambulance siren, joined within minutes by a second.

  Her interesting speculations were wiped from her mind as she sped along the

  corridor in the direction of Cas. There was still no one about, so she did

  the last few yards at a frank run, with the uneasy thought that nurses never

  ran except for fire and haemorrhage; well, there was no fire as far as she

  knew, but there was very probably haemorrhage. Sister was at the outer

  double doors, already thrown back and fastened. Georgina checked the

  trolleys; it was vital to have everything in a state of readiness. Minutes,

  even seconds, counted with someone badly injured. The ambulances, very close

  together, their blue flashers on, turned into the bay before the doors.

  "I'll take the first. Staff. Take the second--Staff Nurse Gregg is off

  until two, so is Jones; but we've got Beamish, and Peck's on at ten."

  She turned away as the first case was carried in and laid carefully on the

  first of the trolleys. A man, Georgina saw, before she gave her full

  attention to the second stretcher--another man, not a very young one either

  and in bad shape as far as she could see. He looked very blue.

  She said, "Good morning, Bert" --Morning, Ginger' to the ambulance men, then,

  "Wait a second." She opened the flaccid lips and felt around inside them

  with a gentle finger, then said comfortably, "Let's have these out of the

  way', and put the false teeth on the pillow. The unconscious face lost its

  blueness; she turned it to one side and said, " OK. " and they wheeled the

  trolley into the second of the cubicles.

  "RTA?" she asked.

  Bert nodded.

  "Lorry and a car--the other two's not too bad, I reckon, but these

  chaps--they've copped it. T'other went through the windscreen, this chap's

  had the wheel in his chest."

  They were in the cubicle by now, and the two men were already busy easing off

  the man's boots while Georgina turned on the oxygen and fixed the catheter in

  one pale, pinched nostril. She regulated its flow very precisely and then

  started to cut away the man's clothing to reveal the bloodstained shirt

  beneath. The ambulance men had already slipped an emergency dressing pad

  beneath it-they drew small hissing breaths of sympathy as her scissors

  snipped through the last few inches of sodden vest and exposed the patient's

  chest. Exactly in its centre there was an irregular depressed wound, several

  inches in diameter, still bleeding freely. Georgina began to swab it

  gently--it was a wonder that the man was still alive. She had almost

  completed her task when a man's voice said from behind her:

  "Let's have a needle and syringe, George, and get him cross-matched for some

  blood--he's going to need it. Get some ATS into him too, and let's have the

  rest of his clothes off and take a look at the damage."

  The owner of the voice had come to stand beside her and was already feeling

  with careful fingers. Georgina, quite undisturbed by the spate of orders,

  handed him a syr
inge and needle and started to unscrew the lid of the Path

  Lab bottle, "Hallo, Ned," she said quietly. She liked the young Casualty

  Officer; he was keen on his work and clever enough at it not to pretend that

  he knew everything. He said now:

  "This one will need I.C.U--if we can patch him up sufficiently to get him

  there."

  They worked steadily. The ambulance men had gone after an exchange of

  cheerful goodbyes. They had just got the blood transfusion going, not

  without difficulty, when the Surgical Registrar joined them. Georgina liked

  him too; he was resourceful and tireless and quiet. She had often thought

  that he and Sister were well suited, and had several times suspected that

  they shared that view themselves. She hoped so.

  He stood between them now, looking down at the patient.

  "Intensive Care, Ned, and then theatre--there may be something we can do."

  He went on, "Congratulations, George. What a way to celebrate!"

  She was clearing up the small place with an urgent, methodical speed.

  She said, "Thank you," but had no time to say more, for Ned interrupted:

  "George, you've passed--wonderful! We knew you would, but it's nice to see

  it in writing, isn't it?" He laughed over at her, and she spared a moment to

  smile back. He really was rather a dear.