Free Outpost Hospital by Sheila Ridley

it would mean more work for Mark.
    After this incident, Mark told Katherine to take some time off each week, but she usually compromised by folding swabs, rolling bandages-or writing notes; though she had to keep out of Andrew’s sight when she was supposed to be off duty.
    On one of these afternoons off she was sitting in her room, writing up an account of the progress of her ante-natal work which, since the success of the operation on Joseph’s wife, had developed until she now had to set aside three afternoons a week for it—she was engrossed in her task when she heard the excited voices of some of the houseboys in the passage.
    Putting her pen down she listened and heard herself—“Missy Nurse”—mentioned several times. There seemed to be a note of urgency in their chatter, so she went to the door. Jacob, the head boy, was there with Moses and now he came to her, an envelope in his hand.
    He held it out to her and she saw, with a little thrill of apprehension, that it was a cable.
    “For me? Are you sure?” hedged Katherine, reluctant to take it from him. It was silly, of course. Telegrams and cables bring good news as well as bad, but all the same...
    “I think,” nodded the boy. “Look.” And he thrust the envelope close to her face so that she could not avoid seeing that it was indeed for her.
    She opened it and read, “Mr. Marlowe seriously ill. Heart attack. In Grinsley General. Mrs. Parks.”
    Mrs. Parks was her father’s housekeeper.
    Katherine stood in the doorway staring at the piece of paper, and the two boys watched the color leave her face. Before any of them could speak or move, Andrew came along the passage calling for Jacob.
    When he saw the little tableau he hurried forward, “Katherine, my dear, what is it?” He dismissed the boys and helped her into her room. “Sit down here,” he said, pulling the chair nearer. Then he poured her a glass of water and, as she took the glass, she handed him the cable.
    He read it with a frown. “I’m awfully sorry about this, Katherine. It’s been a bad shock for you. Are you feeling a wee bit calmer now?”
    She nodded. “Yes, thank you, Andrew. Poor Dad. It was a shock. I ... I haven’t thought very much about him lately, I’m afraid.” Her voice shook and Andrew took the glass and then held her hands tightly.
    “You mustn’t reproach yourself, dear. So long as you thought all was well with him you were bound to be absorbed by your work here.”
    “He’s never been ill as long as I can remember. He’s always been sort of frail, but not ill.”
    “Who is Mrs. Parks? A relative?”
    “No, she’s his housekeeper. She’s been with us since Mother died. We have no relatives except an uncle of Dad’s, and he lives in Jersey.” Her voice began to tremble again. “Poor Dad. He’ll be so alone.”
    Andrew knelt beside her, his arm comfortingly around her shoulders. “What are you going to do, Katherine? Do you want to go home?”
    “Oh, yes, I do, Andrew,” she said, feeling in her pockets for a handkerchief. “I can’t bear to think of him lying ill in hospital with no one of his own near.”
    “Of course you must get to him as quickly as you can,” agreed Andrew gently. “My neighbor at the next station has a small two-seater plane,” he went on thoughtfully. “He would fly you to the airport. We must pray that he’s at home.”
    She put her hand up to stroke his face. “You’re such a comforting person, Andrew,” she whispered.
    “I’m glad, Kathie. I’m happy to think I’ve been able to bring you some comfort.”
    “Kathie,” she repeated. “No one’s ever called me that.”
    “You don’t mind? It’s a good Scots name and it’s how I think of you.”
    Something in his voice made her twist around to look into his face. His brown eyes were full of tenderness, and more than that. She looked away, but he took her chin in his hand and turned her head until she faced him again. “You will come back, won’t you?