take your case, she will nurse your father. Now tell me everything I need to know. And the truth, if you please. The exact truth as much as you know it. Our ability to help him depends upon it.’
Adrienne obeyed without hesitation, and Magnus only occasionally interrupted. As Hamilton asked questions and made brief notes Hester listened with professional interest and intense personal compassion.
‘My mother died eleven years ago,’ Adrienne said quietly in answer to Hamilton’s question. ‘She had been failing for a little while, then she caught pneumonia and within days she was gone.’ There was no expression to her voice. The loss was old and she was only remembering how she had felt.
‘Your father’s health?’ Hamilton returned her to the only subject that interested him.
‘Oh, it was excellent,’ she said with a quick smile, which vanished even more rapidly. ‘We supported each other. I went with him on some of his travels.’ Her voice thickened with unshed tears. ‘It was marvellous. He was interested in everything. He showed me so much . . .’ She blinked quickly several times, and went on before Hamilton could prompt her. ‘He did not become ill until three years ago, and at first it seemed to pass after a short rest. He always had so much energy . . .’
Hamilton was busy making notes. He looked up, waiting.
‘Then he began to tire more easily. He tried to hide it, but I noticed.’ She went on to describe his gradual decline, pain naked in her face.
Hester listened as she described the pain, the unexplained bleeding he tried at first to conceal, then her horror when at last it was too much to hide from her.
‘He had once been so strong,’ she said. ‘So vibrant and passionate a man, a force few would dare to challenge. Now he is scarcely able even to feed himself, let alone fight the final battle without me by his side. I try to make myself hope, but I am beginning to fail in that. I don’t know how much longer I can pretend to believe he will recover.’
Hester could imagine it so clearly it was as if she had been in the room with them. What treatment had they tried? No doubt Rand would ask Miss Radnor all of that.
She went on listening as arrangements were made for Bryson Radnor to be brought to the hospital the following day. Hester watched Adrienne rise a little shakily, express her thanks yet again, and walk with dignity out of the office and down the corridor towards the way out. Refusing to accept the task of giving whatever assistance she could did not even enter Hester’s mind. It would still mean very long hours for her, but daytime rather than night. They would have people around to cover the nights, until Jenny Solway returned.
She went back to the ward and encountered Sherryl O’Neill at the door.
‘Where’ve you been?’ Sherryl demanded. ‘Angus McLeod’s much improved. I wanted to tell you. He’s asking for you. Sitting up!’ Her face shone with her pleasure at the news. McLeod had lost a leg and the wound had bled badly. For a while it had seemed beyond their ability to save his life.
‘He’s still pretty weak,’ Sherryl warned, falling in step with Hester as they moved between the beds, ‘but he’s full of hope.’ They exchanged glances, and Hester understood all that the other woman was not saying, as well. Nursing was moment to moment. One accepted the good and learned from it but took very little for granted.
‘I won’t be here tomorrow night,’ she said quietly. ‘There’s a new patient coming in. By the time I’ve finished with him, I think Jenny will be back. Thank you for your companionship.’
Sherryl looked startled, and then put out her hand with sudden warmth. ‘It was a pleasure. Some of your stories of the army made me realise how lucky I am to be here at peace, and yet I also feel as if I missed something.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Hester said with a lop-sided smile. ‘You’ll get plenty of other tasks.’
Hester went home
Adrienne obeyed without hesitation, and Magnus only occasionally interrupted. As Hamilton asked questions and made brief notes Hester listened with professional interest and intense personal compassion.
‘My mother died eleven years ago,’ Adrienne said quietly in answer to Hamilton’s question. ‘She had been failing for a little while, then she caught pneumonia and within days she was gone.’ There was no expression to her voice. The loss was old and she was only remembering how she had felt.
‘Your father’s health?’ Hamilton returned her to the only subject that interested him.
‘Oh, it was excellent,’ she said with a quick smile, which vanished even more rapidly. ‘We supported each other. I went with him on some of his travels.’ Her voice thickened with unshed tears. ‘It was marvellous. He was interested in everything. He showed me so much . . .’ She blinked quickly several times, and went on before Hamilton could prompt her. ‘He did not become ill until three years ago, and at first it seemed to pass after a short rest. He always had so much energy . . .’
Hamilton was busy making notes. He looked up, waiting.
‘Then he began to tire more easily. He tried to hide it, but I noticed.’ She went on to describe his gradual decline, pain naked in her face.
Hester listened as she described the pain, the unexplained bleeding he tried at first to conceal, then her horror when at last it was too much to hide from her.
‘He had once been so strong,’ she said. ‘So vibrant and passionate a man, a force few would dare to challenge. Now he is scarcely able even to feed himself, let alone fight the final battle without me by his side. I try to make myself hope, but I am beginning to fail in that. I don’t know how much longer I can pretend to believe he will recover.’
Hester could imagine it so clearly it was as if she had been in the room with them. What treatment had they tried? No doubt Rand would ask Miss Radnor all of that.
She went on listening as arrangements were made for Bryson Radnor to be brought to the hospital the following day. Hester watched Adrienne rise a little shakily, express her thanks yet again, and walk with dignity out of the office and down the corridor towards the way out. Refusing to accept the task of giving whatever assistance she could did not even enter Hester’s mind. It would still mean very long hours for her, but daytime rather than night. They would have people around to cover the nights, until Jenny Solway returned.
She went back to the ward and encountered Sherryl O’Neill at the door.
‘Where’ve you been?’ Sherryl demanded. ‘Angus McLeod’s much improved. I wanted to tell you. He’s asking for you. Sitting up!’ Her face shone with her pleasure at the news. McLeod had lost a leg and the wound had bled badly. For a while it had seemed beyond their ability to save his life.
‘He’s still pretty weak,’ Sherryl warned, falling in step with Hester as they moved between the beds, ‘but he’s full of hope.’ They exchanged glances, and Hester understood all that the other woman was not saying, as well. Nursing was moment to moment. One accepted the good and learned from it but took very little for granted.
‘I won’t be here tomorrow night,’ she said quietly. ‘There’s a new patient coming in. By the time I’ve finished with him, I think Jenny will be back. Thank you for your companionship.’
Sherryl looked startled, and then put out her hand with sudden warmth. ‘It was a pleasure. Some of your stories of the army made me realise how lucky I am to be here at peace, and yet I also feel as if I missed something.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Hester said with a lop-sided smile. ‘You’ll get plenty of other tasks.’
Hester went home
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