like them doctors on telly? Sexy too, I'll be bound.'
'Lucky old him.'
Anna trailed in his wake but he didn't turn into the office, just raised an arm and called back to her, 'Got to be on my way!'
'Short and sweet today,' Jean Ross grinned, coming out of the linen room.
In time and manner, Anna thought, returning to the ward to do a last-minute check on the vulvectomy patient before the porters arrived with their trolley and theatre canvas, and poles, and their cheerful comments of, 'Soon be done now, luv' and 'We'll soon be bringing you safely back to bed'. She supposed the patients drew comfort from this, although the pre-med drug had usually done its work by then—inducing a state of languid euphoria which Was hard to penetrate.
It was Friday before Anna saw Simon again, and by then she had acquired a brand new learner nurse straight from Introductory Block. Her name was May Fenn, and she was thrilled to be on the gynae ward. 'I thought it might be male medical,' she said, 'all spewing up into cups.'
Whatever else she lacks it's certainly not confidence, Anna thought, watching her making beds with Nurse Cheng, her sturdy 'milk-bottle' legs planted wide apart in the way she'd been taught so as to safeguard her back. She believed in asking questions too, and on going to the top—which was Anna—for the answers.
'What's cervical cerclage mean?' she asked, catching Anna in the office on Friday morning when she was checking her stock of drugs.
'Well, it literally means—' Anna relocked the cupboard and pocketed the keys '—encircling the cervix with a tape suture to straighten and narrow it up. This prevents the developing foetus from dropping through too soon. In the ordinary way it wouldn't do so, but in Mrs Drew's case she had too rapid a delivery with her previous pregnancy and her cervix was traumatised. The suture will stay in until she's thirty-eight weeks, then be taken out ready for labour.'
'What a good idea!' May Fenn's eyes practically came out on stalks.
'Yes, I suppose you could say that.' Anna tried her hardest not to laugh.
'It's like tightening the sleeve of a sweater, isn't it?'
'An apt simile!' said a voice from the doorway. May turned round to see who it was. Anna turned 'too, but out of politeness for she knew who was there. She knew it was Simon; she would have known his voice amongst a hundred others. At a word from her, May scuttled off to help Janice with mid-morning drinks, whilst Simon, entering the office, perched on the end of the desk. 'An apt simile and a good explanation—clear and to the point.'
'Thanks.' Anna moved to shut the window against a sudden downpour of rain. This afforded her time to hide her pleasure at his praise.
'Do you like teaching?' He was clearly in less of a hurry than usual.
'I don't mind it when I've got the time—' she turned round and faced him '—and when the pupil is bright and enthusiastic, as May Fenn certainly is.'
He nodded, saying nothing, and her eyes dropped from his. He had a disconcerting way of looking at her, not staring exactly but observing closely—making her feel like she was on the end of a pin.
'How can I help you?' she asked formally, meeting his eyes at last.
'Ah, yes, of course, to business.' He unhitched himself from the desk. 'Miss Barton and Mrs Drew can, I think, take leave of us tomorrow so perhaps we could go in and see them, and I'd like a squint at their notes.'
Anna produced the two sets of folders and went with him into the ward. Miss Barton was in the day room, playing Scrabble with Mrs Curry, the vulvectomy patient, who moved about gingerly—wary of her drainage bag. Miss Barton was examined back on her bed and 'signed off', as Simon called it. 'You've done splendidly, Miss Barton.' He closed her notes with a snap.
'You mean you have,' she corrected. 'I haven't done very much, apart from keeping my fingers crossed and laying down the law.'
'Your tumour wasn't invasive; it was simple to get it away,' he
'Lucky old him.'
Anna trailed in his wake but he didn't turn into the office, just raised an arm and called back to her, 'Got to be on my way!'
'Short and sweet today,' Jean Ross grinned, coming out of the linen room.
In time and manner, Anna thought, returning to the ward to do a last-minute check on the vulvectomy patient before the porters arrived with their trolley and theatre canvas, and poles, and their cheerful comments of, 'Soon be done now, luv' and 'We'll soon be bringing you safely back to bed'. She supposed the patients drew comfort from this, although the pre-med drug had usually done its work by then—inducing a state of languid euphoria which Was hard to penetrate.
It was Friday before Anna saw Simon again, and by then she had acquired a brand new learner nurse straight from Introductory Block. Her name was May Fenn, and she was thrilled to be on the gynae ward. 'I thought it might be male medical,' she said, 'all spewing up into cups.'
Whatever else she lacks it's certainly not confidence, Anna thought, watching her making beds with Nurse Cheng, her sturdy 'milk-bottle' legs planted wide apart in the way she'd been taught so as to safeguard her back. She believed in asking questions too, and on going to the top—which was Anna—for the answers.
'What's cervical cerclage mean?' she asked, catching Anna in the office on Friday morning when she was checking her stock of drugs.
'Well, it literally means—' Anna relocked the cupboard and pocketed the keys '—encircling the cervix with a tape suture to straighten and narrow it up. This prevents the developing foetus from dropping through too soon. In the ordinary way it wouldn't do so, but in Mrs Drew's case she had too rapid a delivery with her previous pregnancy and her cervix was traumatised. The suture will stay in until she's thirty-eight weeks, then be taken out ready for labour.'
'What a good idea!' May Fenn's eyes practically came out on stalks.
'Yes, I suppose you could say that.' Anna tried her hardest not to laugh.
'It's like tightening the sleeve of a sweater, isn't it?'
'An apt simile!' said a voice from the doorway. May turned round to see who it was. Anna turned 'too, but out of politeness for she knew who was there. She knew it was Simon; she would have known his voice amongst a hundred others. At a word from her, May scuttled off to help Janice with mid-morning drinks, whilst Simon, entering the office, perched on the end of the desk. 'An apt simile and a good explanation—clear and to the point.'
'Thanks.' Anna moved to shut the window against a sudden downpour of rain. This afforded her time to hide her pleasure at his praise.
'Do you like teaching?' He was clearly in less of a hurry than usual.
'I don't mind it when I've got the time—' she turned round and faced him '—and when the pupil is bright and enthusiastic, as May Fenn certainly is.'
He nodded, saying nothing, and her eyes dropped from his. He had a disconcerting way of looking at her, not staring exactly but observing closely—making her feel like she was on the end of a pin.
'How can I help you?' she asked formally, meeting his eyes at last.
'Ah, yes, of course, to business.' He unhitched himself from the desk. 'Miss Barton and Mrs Drew can, I think, take leave of us tomorrow so perhaps we could go in and see them, and I'd like a squint at their notes.'
Anna produced the two sets of folders and went with him into the ward. Miss Barton was in the day room, playing Scrabble with Mrs Curry, the vulvectomy patient, who moved about gingerly—wary of her drainage bag. Miss Barton was examined back on her bed and 'signed off', as Simon called it. 'You've done splendidly, Miss Barton.' He closed her notes with a snap.
'You mean you have,' she corrected. 'I haven't done very much, apart from keeping my fingers crossed and laying down the law.'
'Your tumour wasn't invasive; it was simple to get it away,' he
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