âI knocked,â Aldo said quietly, and smiled a little.
He looked tired, but at the same time unshakably calm. âWe have to talk, Louise.â
âIâm busy.â The sight of him standing there had shattered her dreams, and reality held no comfort. âAnother time,â she insisted.
âYouâve been crying. Why?â Aldo wanted to know.
âThat is my business,â Louise said. Then she contradicted herself. âYouâve no good reason and no right not to warn me the housekeeper was back. And if it wasnât for my sisterââ
âWhat has your sister to do with us?â
âWell, youâreâ That is, you and she⦠I thoughtâ¦â
He smiled. âYes, Iâve been watching you think for quite a time, and a more muddled lot of ideas I have yet to guess atâ¦.â
IT SHOULD have been the quietest hour or so of the night in the hospital, when the ill and the not so ill slept, the accident centre was temporarily quiet and the busy nurses could pause for a snack, meal or a cup of tea. Tonight, as so often happened, an ambulance with its flashing lights brought the staff nurse to her feet, ready to meet the ambulanceman as he got to the doors.
âCoronary,â he told her briefly. âIn a bad way, too.â
The nurse nodded, said over her shoulder to the student nurse on duty with her, âGet hold of Sister Payne, tell her itâs a coronary, ask her to come,â and then she went out to the ambulance.
So it was that Sister Louise Payne, sitting at her desk in her office, her shoes off, a mug of tea at her elbow, and writing the beginnings of the report, put down her pen with a little sigh as the phone rang, lifted the receiver, listened with composure, said with calm, âIâll be down at once, Nurse. Go back to Staff and help her. Iâll get hold of Dr Giles,â and dug her feet into her shoes once more.
Dr Giles, the medical officer on duty, had just got to his bed; he grunted his displeasure at being roused from the brief snooze he had hoped for and, in answer to Sister Payneâs firm voice telling him that she would meet him in the accident room, grunted again. She put down the receiver, knowing that despite the grumbles he would be there, and took herself off to the accident room.
Staff Nurse was glad to see her; the man was in a bad way and she hadnât had much experience of coronaries; Sister Payne took over without a fuss, and when Dr Giles arrived, trousers and sweater over his pyjamas, they worked together.
âWho is he?â asked Dr Giles, not pausing in his work.
Sister Payne didnât pause either. âStaff?â she asked without turning round.
âThe ambulance was called by someone who saw him lying in the street. A Mr Tom Cowdrie⦠They found an envelope in a coat pocket. Iâve not had timeâ¦â
âNo, of course you havenât, Staff.â Sister Payneâs glance flickered briefly towards Dr Giles. âTed, itâs the MPâ¦Staff, get the police, will you? Ted should you get Dr van der Linden?â
âYes. Could Staff take over? Nurse can get the police, canât she?â He looked down at their unresponsive patient. âNo, better notâIâll stay here. Let Staff take over from you. You telephone.â
Sister Payne nodded her approval and sped to the phone, dialled a number and waited. The voice in her ear was tinged with irritation, to be expected at three oâclock in the morning, but her own remained admirably calm. She didnât waste time in apologies. âA Mr Tom Cowdrie has just been brought inâthe MP. A coronary. Dr Giles would be glad of your advice, sir.â
âTen minutes,â said the voice in her ear, and the line went dead.
If anyone had had the leisure to look at the clock they would have noted that it was, in fact, nine minutes later when the senior medical consultant of St Nicholasâs Hospital came silent-footed into the accident room. He was a massive man, well over six foot and heavily built, with fair hair already silvered and splendid good looks with a high-bridged nose, a firm mouth and blue eyes half hidden by their heavy lids. He was wearing a thin polo-necked sweater and trousers, but no one looking at him would have known that he had been wakened from a deep sleep, driven his car for the mile through Londonâs streets which separated his house from the hospital, and still contrived to look as though he was on the point of doing an unhurried ward round.