may be overlooking something, Doctor . This Urchin -- and what
a ridiculous name that is, by the way! -- this young woman definitely broke
a man's arm. I don't want that to happen in the hospital, and I'm sure
you agree with me." Matron Thoroday wasn't used to being talked back to;
the words lacked her normal forthrightness.
"On the contrary," Paul returned, "I think you're overlooking the fact
that she was the one who got hit, and you're talking as if she did the
hitting. Has Madge Phelps done this kind of thing before, Nurse?"
he added, turning.
"She goes for anybody who tries to touch her property," Nurse Kirk said.
"Whose patient is she?"
"Dr Roshman's."
"Is he prescribing anything for her at the moment?"
"She's on Largactil, but he has just reduced the daily dosage."
"Put her back on the farmer dosage for the rest of today, and if Dr Roshman
inquires why, refer him to me, will you?"
-- Unanswerable question: am I doing this to spite Matron, or is it
the right thing in view of Roshman's vacillating habits? It's true
he changes his mind more often in a week than Alsop does in a year,
so I'll just have to pray that his first guess was the right one.
Matron's cheeks were turning scarlet, but he tactfully kept his eyes
averted, addressing Nurse Kirk.
-- The way I'm going on, they're liable to start accusing me of favouritism
among the patients. One further point. One.
"Apart from trying to get them to teach her English, has Urchin been
annoying the other patients?"
"Well, yes," was the reply, to Paul's dismay. "She watches them."
"What's so bad about that?"
"I mean she stares at them and tries to copy what they're doing."
"Because she doesn't know what to do herself?"
"I suppose so. But I'm not surprised they find it a bit irritating." The
nurse hesitated. "Then, of course, they didn't like the way she behaved
in the washroom this morning."
"How?"
"She took off all her clothes and positively scrubbed her private parts.
And it shocked the others. We have several patients who've been brought
up to always use a separate face-towel, and seeing her wipe her whole
body with her face-cloth upset them dreadfully."
Paul made a mental note to follow up that hint. Obsession with the
cleanliness of the sexual parts could indicate the nature of the
underlying disorder.
-- If there is one. I think my good resolution is going to hell. Too many
enigmas for my peace of mind.
"I'd have thought there was a fairly simple solution," he said aloud.
"Let her have a shower, or a tub."
"But we don't normally do that in the mornings before breakfast," Matron
said with an air of restrained triumph. "I imagine the other patients
would regard this as a special treat, wouldn't they, Sister?"
"I'm afraid they might," Sister Wells admitted.
"Sometimes people get my goat," Paul said, his patience running out.
"A person who's exceptionally clean gets called dirty by those around
her. This is ridiculous -- in the strict sense, it's crazy. Just make
your minds up which will cause less trouble, having her wash all over
in public or having her sent for a shower in private, and then let her
get on with it. Now, if that's all, I have work to do, and so have you!"
*14*
"This is Holinshed," the phone muttered. "Come down to my office, will you?"
-- Blast the man. As if I didn't have my hands full! My turn for duty
again tonight, and the Operating Committee tomorrow, and I'm drowning
in a sea of papers.
But Paul remembered to put on his politest face as he tapped at
Holinshed's door.
"Ah, Fidler! Sit down. You know Inspector Hofford, I believe."
Raincoat unbelted and dragging on the floor either side of his chair,
the policeman nodded his greeting.
"Sorry to bother you,
a ridiculous name that is, by the way! -- this young woman definitely broke
a man's arm. I don't want that to happen in the hospital, and I'm sure
you agree with me." Matron Thoroday wasn't used to being talked back to;
the words lacked her normal forthrightness.
"On the contrary," Paul returned, "I think you're overlooking the fact
that she was the one who got hit, and you're talking as if she did the
hitting. Has Madge Phelps done this kind of thing before, Nurse?"
he added, turning.
"She goes for anybody who tries to touch her property," Nurse Kirk said.
"Whose patient is she?"
"Dr Roshman's."
"Is he prescribing anything for her at the moment?"
"She's on Largactil, but he has just reduced the daily dosage."
"Put her back on the farmer dosage for the rest of today, and if Dr Roshman
inquires why, refer him to me, will you?"
-- Unanswerable question: am I doing this to spite Matron, or is it
the right thing in view of Roshman's vacillating habits? It's true
he changes his mind more often in a week than Alsop does in a year,
so I'll just have to pray that his first guess was the right one.
Matron's cheeks were turning scarlet, but he tactfully kept his eyes
averted, addressing Nurse Kirk.
-- The way I'm going on, they're liable to start accusing me of favouritism
among the patients. One further point. One.
"Apart from trying to get them to teach her English, has Urchin been
annoying the other patients?"
"Well, yes," was the reply, to Paul's dismay. "She watches them."
"What's so bad about that?"
"I mean she stares at them and tries to copy what they're doing."
"Because she doesn't know what to do herself?"
"I suppose so. But I'm not surprised they find it a bit irritating." The
nurse hesitated. "Then, of course, they didn't like the way she behaved
in the washroom this morning."
"How?"
"She took off all her clothes and positively scrubbed her private parts.
And it shocked the others. We have several patients who've been brought
up to always use a separate face-towel, and seeing her wipe her whole
body with her face-cloth upset them dreadfully."
Paul made a mental note to follow up that hint. Obsession with the
cleanliness of the sexual parts could indicate the nature of the
underlying disorder.
-- If there is one. I think my good resolution is going to hell. Too many
enigmas for my peace of mind.
"I'd have thought there was a fairly simple solution," he said aloud.
"Let her have a shower, or a tub."
"But we don't normally do that in the mornings before breakfast," Matron
said with an air of restrained triumph. "I imagine the other patients
would regard this as a special treat, wouldn't they, Sister?"
"I'm afraid they might," Sister Wells admitted.
"Sometimes people get my goat," Paul said, his patience running out.
"A person who's exceptionally clean gets called dirty by those around
her. This is ridiculous -- in the strict sense, it's crazy. Just make
your minds up which will cause less trouble, having her wash all over
in public or having her sent for a shower in private, and then let her
get on with it. Now, if that's all, I have work to do, and so have you!"
*14*
"This is Holinshed," the phone muttered. "Come down to my office, will you?"
-- Blast the man. As if I didn't have my hands full! My turn for duty
again tonight, and the Operating Committee tomorrow, and I'm drowning
in a sea of papers.
But Paul remembered to put on his politest face as he tapped at
Holinshed's door.
"Ah, Fidler! Sit down. You know Inspector Hofford, I believe."
Raincoat unbelted and dragging on the floor either side of his chair,
the policeman nodded his greeting.
"Sorry to bother you,
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