Free Island Hospital by Elizabeth Houghton

hamburgers on thick slices of bread.
    “Relish or catsup, Sheila? Sorry, no onions at this time.”
    Alan laughed at the expression on Sheila’s face. “Give her both, Clare. The girl hasn’t a clue. She doesn’t know what’s nice when she sees it.” He thrust the thick sandwich at Sheila. “Eat it and agree it’s the best you ever tasted.”
    She bit into it, and suddenly she was ravenous. “You’re right. It’s wonderful. You’ll have to show me how next time, Clare.” They ate their hamburgers and drank their strong, well - sweetened tea laced with plenty of tinned milk.
    Alan stirred his thoughtfully. “Well, girls, this has been quite a night. Thanks for everything.”
    Clare put her cup down. “Nice to know I’ve been of some use. What would you have done if I had gone to town?”
    Alan looked at her across the top of his cup. “Managed somehow, I expect. Sheila and I would have got along all right, I guess, eh, Sheila?”
    There was a sudden crash as Clare flung her chair back. “So it’s Sheila this and Sheila that. I would be grateful if the next time you find it necessary to kiss her you’d do it somewhere other than in full view of the hospital!”
    She turned and ran out of the kitchen.
    Alan stared after her and then glanced at Sheila. “Whew! What a gal! And I didn’t even kiss you ... ”
    Sheila’s eyes were troubled. “Can’t we explain?”
    He shook his head. “It would look fishy ... she’d never believe it.” He ran his fingers through his mop of red hair. “Women are the very devil. Go on, get off to bed. I hate the sight of the pair of you!”

 
    CHAPTER FOUR
    Feeling rather like a slapped child, Sheila left the kitchen hastily and went toward her room. Clare was pacing up and down the corridor and turned and looked at Sheila suspiciously.
    “What are you doing here so soon?” she demanded sharply. “I thought you and Alan would be having a nice little chat with me out of the way.”
    “He thinks women are the very devil and he hates the sight of the pair of us.” Sheila was too despondent to fence with Clare.
    The other girl stared at her in disbelief at first and then an unwilling smile dawned. “As long as it’s both of us I don’t mind so much,” she admitted frankly. She yawned. “I suppose we might as well go to bed while the getting’s good. By the way, did Matron mention to you that you would be having next weekend off, if you want to go to Vancouver or anything?”
    Sheila shook her head. “No, she didn’t mention it. There are some cousins of Mother’s living in Vancouver. I could look them up.”
    Clare yawned again. “Sounds deadly dull, honey, but maybe you care for that sort of thing ... not me. Give me the bright lights every time. ’Night!” she disappeared into her room.
    Sheila thought of the women back in the ward as the Queen of the Isles hooted its way under the Lions Gate Bridge. They had been frankly envious when they knew she was going to Vancouver for her first weekend off.
    “Have an extra look for us when you’re walking down Granville Street with your eyes glued to the shop windows.”
    “Watch yourself crossing the road, honey.”
    “Have a hamburger in Stanley Park ... that place near the entrance at English Bay that’s open at all hours.”
    The memory of their friendly chatter rang in her ears as she stared at the scene opening out in front of her. High overhead toy cars shuttled endlessly across the suspension bridge while below the seagulls dipped and wheeled in the wake of the boats. A few fishing trollers passed them outward bound, their tall poles swaying and bells jangling as the steamer wash hit them. A ferry passed, crowded to the rails with people, heading toward West Vancouver where the houses climbed the steep slopes and above the Lions crouched and watched as they had down the centuries. Sheila thought of all the things that must have passed by those mountains ... the early explorers and traders, the