Yankee Surgeon

Yankee Surgeon by Elizabeth Gilzean Page A

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Authors: Elizabeth Gilzean
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but—”
    “—but not otherwise, eh? I get you, but how come George doesn ’ t come on the restricted list—or is that a forbidden question?”
    Sally hesitated. “George is different. He goes around all the wards every night he ’ s on and he usually calls in here before he goes off to let me know whether anyone ’ s likely to come in for surgery.”
    “So George is different. He sweet on you or something?”
    Sally was very much aware of the watchful blue eyes. “No, I don ’ t think so ... not as far as I know,” she said frankly. “We ’ ve known one another a long time and—”
    “—so you can cut out the frills and the red tape and enjoy one another ’ s company ... nice work. What do I have to do to get on that basis?”
    Sally concentrated on the gauze she was folding. “I don ’ t know,” she said slowly.
    “That ’ s honest, I guess, but not much help. Can I take you out?”
    Sally laughed helplessly but he only looked puzzled.
    “What ’ s the joke? Don ’ t you want to be seen with me or something?”
    Sally mopped her eyes. “I ’ m sorry! I didn ’ t mean to be rude but you see ... I ’ m on nights so that you can have your operating session—and as long as I ’ m on nights I ’ m not free to go out!”
    “I get you,” he said gloomily. “ ‘ So unless I get up at the crack of dawn and take you out like this morning I don ’ t get to see you. Don ’ t you get nights off or something?”
    “I don ’ t know what ’ s going to happen about that. You see, normally you do a short period of night duty and have your nights off when you finish it. But it ’ s different now you ’ re working here.”
    “I should hope so, too. But seriously, Sally, isn ’ t there any way? Can ’ t you hop out of bed early or something?”
    Sally hesitated. “Some of the juniors do sometimes but it ’ s not worth the risk.”
    “You mean they lock you in or something?” His tone was incredulous.
    “Not quite,” she admitted.
    “Well, in that case will you come with me tomorrow morning?”
    Sally tried to hide her dismay. “I ’ d like to but I ’ d better not,” she said finally.
    “Why not?” he demanded. “Did someone see us?”
    Sally shook her head and repressed a shudder. Matron might not have been quite so understanding if that item had been reported to her.
    “Not as far as I ’ ve heard.” She hoped that would satisfy him. But it didn ’ t.
    “Has something happened then?” He was relentless.
    “Well, yes ... sort of.” Sally wished she could make some excuse to end the conversation. She was being slowly driven into a corner and she knew it.
    “You mean something like that rocket you got from the theater super this morning?”
    Sally nodded and then, in desperation pleaded, “John, can ’ t you leave it at that?”
    “Can I have a guess? The powers-that-be have ticked you off and you ’ re not supposed to talk about it? Am I correct?”
    “Yes, John, and please don ’ t ask me any more. I ’ d tell you if I could.”
    “Okay, honey. One last question ... did anything I say get you into trouble?”
    “No, John.”
    She was being honest, she reminded herself. Matron hadn ’ t sent for her because of John ... not directly. Claris ’ s dislike of her might have started the train of action, but she didn ’ t even know who had gone to Matron...
    “Sorry, honey. I guess I ’ ve been a bit mean pestering you with questions and all. It ’ s just that I ’ m sort of disappointed.” He looked at her. “I had a kind of feeling this morning when we were up on top of that rock that you were my kind of girl, but I guess I could be wrong. But don ’ t let it worry you, Sally. Things have a habit of working out. ’ Night, sweetie, and I ’ ll be seeing you ... sometime.” He patted her on the cheek as he had this morning, but this time his eyes were wistful.
    He was gone before Sally could think of a reply and the staff room seemed very empty and very lonely

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