Page 2 of A Helpin g Hand for the Village Nurse

‘Nurse, when are you going to say yes? A man could die waiting…’

Ottilie’s current patient coughed violently. She waited for him to finish with a tolerant half-smile.

‘In fact,’ he rasped as his breathing steadied, ‘this one probably will.’

Her smile still in place, she took a note of his blood pressure. ‘As I’ve told you every day since we admitted you, you’re not going to die any time soon. At least, not as far as I can tell. Certainly not if I have anything to do with it.’

‘I’m eighty-seven. It’s only a matter of time.’

‘It’s only a matter of time for all of us. And with blood pressure this good you’ll probably outlast me.’

Mr Pearson let out a theatrical sigh. ‘If only I’d been born a few decades later, eh? Or you’d been born a few decades earlier…’

‘I don’t want any extra decades if you don’t mind.’ Ottilie undid the strap that she’d fastened around his arm to measure his blood pressure and wound it up.

‘But you might have said yes, eh? A man can always have hope. I’ve got a bit in the bank, you know, if that helps to change your mind. And I’m on the way out so you wouldn’t have long to wait for it…’

‘Generous and tempting as that offer is, Mr Pearson, I think I’ll stick with the husband I already have. He might not have quite as much in the bank as you do, but he’s perfect.’

‘Lucky bleeder too.’

Ottilie held a tumbler of water in front of his face. ‘Drink. That jug is almost full, so you clearly haven’t had enough today.’

‘Will I have to go home later?’

‘I don’t see why not. Of course, the consultant will come and check everything, but as far as I can tell there’s no reason to keep you here.’

‘To my big empty house…’ He gazed at the glass but made no move to take it.

Ottilie’s smile slipped. Despite the jokes and banter, the man who’d been admitted to her ward a couple of days previously was perhaps really only here because he was lonely rather than any tangible illness that they could treat. She wished she could do something to change that – she wished it for all patients like Mr Pearson, because he wasn’t the first and she was sure he wouldn’t be the last. But no matter what she wished, realistically there was only so much she could do. She made a mental note to phone him once he was home to check up, and so he’d have a friendly voice that might at least brighten an hour of his day.

As she straightened his pillows, from the corner of her eye she saw one of the ward clerks, Dawn, hurrying down the ward, a look of panic on her face the likes of which Ottilie had never seen in all the years they’d worked together. Dawn was so laid-back everyone joked that she might well be doing her job in her sleep for all the difference in her mood.

Before she was even within earshot she was talking. Ottilie put a hand up as Dawn reached her. As far as Ottilie could see, she’d only run the length of the ward, but for how out of breath she was, perhaps she’d been running long before she’d reached it.

‘Start again! What on earth is wrong? What’s happened?’

‘Josh,’ Dawn panted.

Ottilie’s eyebrows drew together into an instant frown. ‘My Josh?’

Dawn nodded, dragging in breaths. ‘Accident and Emergency just phoned…He’s in there now…rushed in…’

‘But I spoke to him…like a couple of hours ago! He can’t be!’

Dawn gave a vehement nod. ‘They’re asking for you. It sounds…’

‘Sounds what?’

The blood drained from Ottilie’s face, suddenly ice-cold in her veins. ‘Dawn—What did they say?’

‘Nothing. They said nothing at all.’

‘They didn’t say what had happened to him?’

Dawn shook her head and Ottilie knew, from that one small detail, that it was bad. Dazed, she gestured vaguely at her patient. ‘Can you…?’

Dawn wasn’t medically qualified at all and there was little she’d be able to do for Mr Pearson, but in the panic that had seized her, that fact didn’t even occur to Ottilie. All she knew was that she needed to get down to the emergency department as fast as possible.

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