Nurse Jess by Joyce Dingwell Page B

there. At last she went out of the nursery or rather she withdrew. Jessa heaved a sigh.
    She looked at Brains Trust appealingly. “ I ’ ve always implored you to hurry before, ” she told him, “ but now you can cogitate if you like. ”
    With typical baby perverseness, Brains Trust suddenly became maddeningly interested in nourishment and finished his bottle with a promptness he had never displayed before. Jessa said, “ Meanie, you just would. ”
    She couldn ’ t find her fountain pen. She was still searching for it when Margaret ran along the c o rridor to the nursery.
    “ Jessa, you ’ re holding things up ... he ’ s waiting —”
    “ I can ’ t find my pen. ”
    “ You can borrow mine, though you won ’ t need it, the exam ’ s oral. ”
    “ Oral! ”
    “ Yes... hurry...! ”
    “ Have you finished your ordeal? ”
    “ Ten minutes ago. Oh, Jessa, don ’ t stand there, go. ”
    Jessa turned and scuttled down to the office, her mind turning over and over as she conquered the steps in two ’ s occasionally reckless three ’ s and four ’ s.
    “ He, ” Margaret had said. So the examiner was not Matron Martha... or Doctor Elizabeth ... he was probably some important member of the Belinda Board.
    She tapped on the door, straightened her cap, turned the handle, entered.
    A seat was waiting at the desk for her. On the other side of it sat—Professor Gink.
    She had not expected him.
    Of all people in the world he was almost the last she would have imagined sitting at Matron ’ s desk in an examining capacity. He was a medical V.I.P., a world lecturer, almost a universal figure. She could not believe that he was bothering himself to test a raw trainee like this.
    “ Good morning, sir. ”
    “ Good morning. ” Again no Nurse, and certainly no Nurse Jess.
    Then he smiled suddenly, that oddly shy, rather boyish smile of his, so surprisingly endearing in a man of his learning, and he said, “ Relax, please ... as I hope I can. This is rather a new role for me. ”
    Jessa asked, “ Then why are you doing it? ” and was instantly shocked at her own boldness. She was glad Matron Martha was not here to hear.
    “ A w h im, ” said the Professor. “ All at once I had a desire to know how much you trainees have absorbed in your first few months. ”
    He looked down at the desk, then looked up again. Without warning, he asked, “ What are the main considerations in the care of the premature child? ”
    That was easy. She had had the four essentials dinned into her since she had come to Belinda.
    “ The main considerations are warmth, feeding, care of skin and minimum amount of movement , ” she said.
    “ Cot temperature? ”
    “ Ninety degrees to ninety-five. ”
    “ And the room? ”
    “ Seventy-five. ”
    He was doodling with his pencil on Matron Martha ’ s unblemished ink blotter.
    “ Nurse Margaret, ” he remarked conversationally, “ Assured me that your Capricornian climate was much to her liking. It would be just about that temperature, wouldn ’ t it? Tell ’ me did you, too, enjoy your break, Nurse? ”
    “ Yes, Professor Gink. ”
    “ She informed me, also, of the changes facing your Crescent Island, the tourists expected. ” He looked rather expectantly at Jessa.
    Jessa tried to think of something to say, but couldn ’ t. So she murmured again, “ Yes, Professor Gink. ”
    “ I should like very much to visit your home, Nurse. ” He was doodling again, doodling quite madly.
    This time she could think of something. She said cheerfully, “ Probably you will go to Crescent Island, sir. Conventions are going to be held there; one is an infant society ’ s. ”
    He must have been pressing too hard on the point of the pencil. She heard it snap.
    “ Tell me about feeding, ” he said—but before she could do so, “ Not in that capacity, Nurse, I mean not in a convention capacity, but as a visit. A visit to—to your home. ”
    “ Boiled water the first twenty-four hours, ”