Outpost Hospital (9 page)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Why had she come?

Katherine could not see Mark’s face or hear their voices, but Elizabeth Frayne was laughing and talking animatedly to him as the boys unloaded her luggage. There was a lot of it. Evidently she intended staying some time, thought Katherine unhappily, and wondered if she could slip away to her room. But she was too late. The others were already coming toward her.

When the newcomer reached the porch she removed her hat and shook back her shining, bright hair. Her skin was tanned to a warm gold, Katherine noticed, unable to suppress a slight feeling of envy mixed with annoyance. She herself was as pale as when she left England and her hair hung limply and lustreless in the damp heat. Dr. Frayne’s clothes were not even crumpled. Katherine knew she was being
c
hildish, but she told herself it did not seem fair. Beside this radiant creature she felt colorless and shy.

Mark introduced them. He seemed bewildered, so he could not have been aware of the impending arrival of the woman he loved.

Elizabeth Frayne smiled politely at Katherine before turning her attention back to Mark. Her dark eyebrows were delicately raised as she asked in puzzled amusement, “Why on earth did you come here, Mark darling?” She held out her hands in a gesture that embraced the shabby house, the rather amateurish-looking hospital, the scrawny hens pecking in the grass and the little groups of staring, half-naked villagers gathered about the steps. “I just couldn’t believe my eyes when I read about it in the paper,” she went on. “They gave you quite a good writeup and there was a photograph. In fact, if it had not been for that, I simply wouldn’t have connected it with you.”

“I don’t really see why you should find it so hard to believe,” said Mark rather coolly.

“Oh, come now, admit that this sort of adventure had no place in your scheme of things when we were both at the Grinsley General.”

He looked away. “Perhaps my plans for the future did change rather suddenly,” he said bleakly, then adding more matter-of-factly, “but I don’t understand—you didn’t come here straight from England, surely?”

“No. I’ve been working in a hospital in Lagos. I thought you knew. When I left Grinsley I felt I must have a complete change so I came to Nigeria. It was in Lagos that I read about you and your noble sacrifice—” her lovely face dimpled in a mischievous smile “—and the minute my contract was up I came to see for myself.”

While they talked, Katherine stood a little apart from them, waiting for an opportunity to get away. It was awkward, as they were entirely absorbed in each other and seemed to have forgotten her presence. Taking a deep breath, she said diffidently, “If you’ll excuse me I’ll go across to the hospital.” She glanced at Mark. “I’ll start on the stock-taking, Doctor.”

“Oh, don’t let me hold up the great work,” said Elizabeth Frayne mockingly, her green eyes appraising the other girl with mild interest.

Katherine picked up her notebook and pen and walked slowly down the steps.

When she had gone Mark asked, “Why didn’t you write and tell me you were coming, Elizabeth?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise, darling,” she told him, adding petulantly, “You haven’t said you’re pleased to see me yet.”

“Of course I’m pleased, and it’s certainly a surprise. To see you in that boat was the last thing in the world I expected. When I first saw the canoe I thought it was bringing a refrigerator I’ve been waiting for.”

After a slight pause Elizabeth Frayne laughed. “Oh Mark! You’re wonderful! You haven’t changed a bit. You never were very good at making pretty speeches. I believe you’d have welcomed that fridge with open arms, whereas you’ve hardly looked at me.” She moved nearer to him, gazing up at him with confident eyes. “Are you really disappointed that I’m not a refrigerator?”

He smiled indulgently. “No, of course not. But we do need it desperately. As it is we can’t keep a supply of vaccine on hand for an emergency. There’s no electricity here, of course, so when I heard of this paraffin fridge going begging, I jumped at it.”

“I’ll forgive you,
if you’ll forget about your work for a few minutes,” she said. She walked to the end of the porch and looked
toward the hospital. “Your little nurse didn’t seem overjoyed to see me,” she called over her shoulder. “You said she was at Grinsley too, didn’t you? You must have used all your considerable charm to persuade her to come to this Godforsaken place.”

“Not at all.” Mark’s voice had an edge to it. “Persuasion was not necessary. Nurse Marlowe came here because there was useful work to be done—as any good nurse would have done.”

Elizabeth Frayne turned and leaned gracefully against the corner post supporting the porch roof. “There must have been more to it than that,” she said knowingly. “Men make sacrifices for ideals, but women make them for people.”

“Not always,” he murmured.

His companion came quickly to him, putting her hands on his shoulders. “You mean, I once made a sacrifice for an ideal. You are right, Mark, and it was you I sacrificed.” Her voice was low and husky and her eyes misted with tears.
“I ...
I’ve regretted it ever since. I’m sorry I made you so unhappy, but I’ve been suffering too. It’s all over now, thank goodness. We can start again.”

Mark Charlton’s handsome face was set and almost expressionless as he took her hands from his shoulders and said, “I’d better find our host or his sister. You must be tired and thirsty.”

As he moved away she grasped his arm. “Never mind about that just now. I want to talk to you. You might offer me a cigarette, though.”

“I’m afraid I can’t. I stick to my pipe now. The tobacco seems to last longer and I’m on a tight budget.”

She removed a cigarette from her handbag and, as he held a match for her, she studied his face thoughtfully. Then she drew on the cigarette and asked quietly, “What’s wrong, Mark?”

“Wrong? Nothing that an increase in pay won’t put right.”

“I don’t mean that and you know it. You’re deliberately misunderstanding me. Why?”

“All right, Elizabeth. I’ll tell you,” he answered steadily. “You see, things have changed a great deal since we last met, and we can’t put the clock back. For one thing I earn a lot less than I did in England. I certainly can’t contemplate marriage now.”

“I wasn’t suggesting we should stay here, darling,” she said impatiently. “You must resign and we’ll go ... oh, to Canada, perhaps. Now that I’ve finished my term of duty at Lagos I’ve no ties so I can wait until you’ve worked your notice and then—”

“Hold on a minute!” Mark remonstrated sharply. “I’ve no intention of leaving here. We’re just beginning to make real progress and I have plans for improvements as soon as the money is, available.”

“But you’re wasted here. You used to be so ambitious. You were going to specialize in plastic surgery and do great things.”

“Our ideas of what great things are
change. I used to think that what I wanted most was to be recognized as an authority in my own branch of surgery, but now that seems a selfish ambition.” Mark’s deep voice was thoughtful, as though this was the first time he had tried to put into words his feelings about his present work.

“It’s not selfish, Mark.” Elizabeth Frayne was beginning to feel angry. She had not expected to meet opposition; certainly not strong opposition. But she was a determined young woman. She meant to have her way and she had not the slightest doubt that she would get it, even if it did take a little longer than she had reckoned on. “You could do more good by improving plastic surgery methods and helping people all over the world than by looking after a handful of Nigerians.” She was pleased with this argument, but the obstinate man shook his head.

“Don’t you see that if I don’t make these discoveries someone else will and probably do the job better than I could anyway?” he asked earnestly. Dr. Frayne’s eyes widened. Humility was a new quality in Mark Charlton. She made no reply and he went on, “But if I leave here there’ll be no rush to take my place.”

Still rather at a loss, Elizabeth Frayne saw a tall, lean figure in black approaching the house, and said spitefully, “Who’s the female who looks as though she’s dressed up to represent Doom in amateur theatricals?”

Mark looked around. “This is your hostess; sister of the minister here.”

“She looks grim. Is she always like that?”

“I suppose she does unbend sometimes, though I’ve never seen her,” Mark admitted.

“I’m absolutely petrified,” laughed Elizabeth gaily.

Mary Kennedy climbed slowly up the steps and stood at the top looking coldly at the newcomer.

Mark stepped forward. “Miss Kennedy, this is a former colleague of mine, Dr. Frayne.”

The latter, with a warm smile, said apologetically, “I hope you don’t mind me arriving out of the blue like this, Miss Kennedy. I suppose it was naughty of me not to give any warning, but I wanted to give Mark a lovely surprise.” She threw him an intimate glance.

The Scotswoman’s expression did not alter nor did she look directly at the other woman as she replied, “I don’t see how we can possibly accommodate you, Dr. Frayne. The house is full now with the doctor here and the nurse and every spare corner piled up with crates and boxes so a body can hardly move—”

“I’ll shift my stuff and Dr. Frayne can have my room,” Mark said quickly. “I’ll sleep over at the hospital. There’s a bed in the consulting room.”

Mary Kennedy sniffed. “I’ll away and see to it,” she snapped and stalked off into the house.

Elizabeth Frayne shuddered. “Ugh! What on earth is wrong with her?” she asked Mark. “She seems to have a grudge against someone or something.”

He shrugged. “I don’t understand her entirely myself. I think it has something to do with the fact that her brother—who is probably the only person in the world she cares about—has been slaving his heart out here for years without making very much headway. Then we come along—Nurse Marlowe and I—and win the Africans over completely in a short time. So she dislikes and resents us.”

“It must be very uncomfortable to live with a person like that. I thought when I first saw her that she was quite old, but she can’t be more than 35; it’s having her hair scraped back like that, and her sour expression, that make her look so much older.” An unpleasant thought occurred to her and she asked with a frown, “I hope her brother isn’t like her.”

“Oh, no,” Mark assured her. “Andrew Kennedy is very easy to get on with.”

“I’ve never met a missionary before,” she mused. “I expect he’s frightfully high-minded, isn’t he? I always imagine missionaries as fanatical types with pale faces and burning eyes.”

“Oh? And how often do you think of missionaries?” laughed Mark. “Anyway, you can judge for yourself. Here he comes.”

Andrew ran toward the house and bounded up the steps, a broad smile on his brown face. “Moses told me we had a guest,” he panted to the new arrival. “I’m awfully sorry I wasn’t here when you got here,
er...”

Mark made the introductions.

“Welcome to Ngombe, Dr. Frayne,” said Andrew warmly. “Have you met my sister yet? Is she arranging things for you? Getting you some refreshment?”

“I think she’s seeing to my room,” Elizabeth told him. “I’m afraid I’m driving Mark out of his. I feel dreadfully guilty about it but there doesn’t seem to be a really good hotel around here.”

The clergyman grinned. “No. We are rather short of five-star hotels in Ngombe.” He turned to Mark. “But I’m sorry you are being turned out, Charlton. We’re not used to such a large household. Well, come inside, and I’ll hustle the boys to make some tea—or would you like to freshen up first, Dr. Frayne?”

“Tea would be lovely if I don’t look too travel-stained.”

“You don’t look the least bit travel-stained,” Andrew said gallantly and truthfully, as he led the way into the living room. “Tea first then. I’ll see about your luggage, Dr. Frayne, and I’ll get your stuff taken across to the hospital, Charlton, though you can leave most of it in my room.” He went to the door, turning to say, “I shan’t be long. Make yourselves comfortable.”

“Comfortable!” Elizabeth Frayne exclaimed when he had gone. “In this place!” Her sweeping glance took in the ugliness of the furniture, the unrelieved drabness of the color scheme, if browns and grays could be called a color scheme. “It doesn’t even look weatherproof!”

“Oh, it’s that at least,” Mark consoled her. “Corrugated iron may not be elegant but it keeps out the rain very effectively, I can promise.”

“I suppose I should be thankful for that,” was the caustic reply. Elizabeth Frayne sat down, carefully arranging her skirt over her crossed knees, and said more pleasantly, “I like the Rev. Andrew though. He’s sweet and he has a sense of humor, and what is more, he welcomed me nicely and paid me a compliment, neither of which you have done so far, Mark darling.” She waited expectantly for his answer but at that moment a boy came with tea, followed by Mary Kennedy and Andrew.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

K
atherine, meanwhile, was in the clinic room checking the drugs and medicines and making notes of those that needed replenishing. As she worked she was wondering about Elizabeth Frayne. Why had she come to Ngombe without telling Mark? How long did she intend to stay? The lovely doctor was not the type of woman one would expect to be content to bury herself in an out-of-the-way place. Katherine remembered that in Grinsley Dr. Frayne had been regarded as having outstanding ability and was considered to have a brilliant future. She specialized in ophthalmic surgery. Once she had refused to marry Mark because her career was more important to her; now that she had come to Ngombe it could only be because that was no longer the case, that Mark meant more to her than her work and if that were so, Katherine might as well put out of her mind any stubborn little hope she had been cherishing that one day he would come to love her.