Nurse In The Outback

‘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

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.’