She nodded to Harriet King, with whom she was friendly enough in a vague way, and asked if she might have a word with her brother.

"Only a minute or two, William--I'm glad I caught you before the evening rush.

' Harriet got up.

"Go ahead," she invited.

"T've got those wretched lists to fetch from the office--I'll go now.

' She paused on her way out.

"Help yourself to tea, ducky.

' It surprised Beth that William didn't want to know why she had come, indeed, she had the impression that he had been expecting her, which was absurd, but he was an easygoing young man and always had been; she wasted no time on speculation but said at once: "Mevrouw Thor becke wants me to go back home with her and the children for another two weeks--somewhere in the country.

' She paused, realizing that she had forgotten to ask where exactly it was.

"I said I'd go and then afterwards I thought you might not be able to manage on your own." He grinned at her. "Don't worry about me, Beth--funnily enough, Dobson'--Dobson was a new house surgeon, a quiet retiring young man she had met several times--'asked me only this morning if I knew of anywhere where he could live for a couple of weeks-he took over from Bill Knight, you know, but can't go into his room because Bill's got some virus or other, so poor old Dobson's been living at a bed and breakfast place and hating it.

He could move in with me for those two weeks and share the rent and so on--that should suit us all.

' "Well, I don't know--will you be able to manage?

' "Oh, don't worry about it, love.

We'll get that old soul in the bas.e.m.e.nt to come up and clean the place and do most of our eating in the hospital--of course we'll manage.

I'll give him a ring now, if you like.

' It wasn't a bad idea, in fact it was wonderfully convenient.

It was more than likely that the place would be in a frightful state when she got back, but William would have company, and over and above that, two more weeks at the princely salary she was receiving would mean more than a pair of shoes for William--he would be able to have a good deal more than that, and so would she.

"OK," she said finally, and listened while he talked into the telephone.

When he put it down he said cheerfully: "Dobson's no end pleased, he'll move in when I give the word.

Will you be coming back to the flat before you leave?

' That was something else she hadn't thought about; really, the profess or had given her no time to consider anything.

"I don't know, but I'll have to ask for some time off--I'll need some more clothes.

' "Well, let me know.

I'll.

' He was interrupted by the sing-song wail of the ambulance, approaching fast.

"Ah, the evening session-be seeing you, Bern.

' She went through the department and out the other end, so as to avoid the patient's arrival; it meant trailing through Outpatients to reach the hospital entrance through a long, dreary pa.s.sage, seldom used once OPD had closed down for the night; it had hard wooden benches set at intervals, to take the overflow from the various clinics, each one in an alcove between the row of tall narrow windows.

It was getting towards dusk by now and no one had switched on the lights; to anyone strange to St Elmer's, it might have presented a somewhat cheerless aspect, but Beth took no notice of it; she knew every inch of it by heart and could have walked it blindfold.

She was half-way along it when her eye fell on someone sitting on one of the benches.

It lay in shadow and until she went closer she was unable to see whether it was a man or a woman.

It was a girl, quite young--fifteen or sixteen, she supposed, huddled up and greenish white, her eyes closed.

Beth bent over her, feeling her pulse, which was far too rapid, then spoke to her gently.

It was a few seconds before the girl opened her eyes.

"I gotta pain," she said dully.

"Yes, dear--could you tell me where it is?

' The stomach.

' The girl wasterribly pale, so pale that Beth cast a searching eye around her; patients with stab wounds looked like that, so did ruptured ulcers, only that wasn't likely to be the case here.

"Have you had an accident?

' she asked.

"No--just got this pain--proper awful it is too.

' "I'm going to find a doctor.

Will you stay here?

I'll only be a minute or so.

Did you think this was Casualty?

' The girl gave her a dull stare.

"Came 'ere ter sit down.

Don't be long, will your?

' And she added in a frightened whisper: "I think I'm goin' to die.

' "No, you're not.

I'm a nurse even though I'm not in uniform.

' Beth gave her a rea.s.suring pat and with a last injunction to sit quiet until she got back, hurried away.

It was quicker to go straight to the entrance hall now; the porter could get a doctor and a stretcher at the same time.

She burst into it now and the first person she saw was the profess or, standing idly by the entrance.

He turned as she reached his side and began without preliminary: "There's a girl her voice was urgent but not panicky.

"She's sitting in the corridor behind OPD.

She's pallid and in great pain abdominal, her pulse is rapid and weak.

She says she hasn't had an accident and I couldn't see any signs of a wound.

' He took her hand and said in a calm voice.

"We'll take a look, shall we?

Which way?

' The girl was still there, moaning now; when she saw them she whispered: "Pain's awful is this the doc?

' Beth nodded and flew to turn on the lights, bleak gla.s.s-shaded pendants which allowed them a better sight of the girl.

The profess or was already bending over her and said almost immediately: "Get porters and a trolley, Beth tell Hill to get Profess or Mac Donald's registrar he's on the surgical side.

I've just been there with him ask him to go to Casualty.

' She wasted no time and when she got back from giving her messages the porters were already there, about to wheel the girl into Casualty.

She went too, not quite knowing what to do, and it was a good thing that she did; Harriet King had her hands full with a road accident and William was scrubbing up at one of the sinks.

The profess or took in the situation at a glance; he murmured briefly to William and then looked over his shoulder at Beth.

"Perhaps we could manage until Staff Nurse is free?

' he suggested.

"If you would get some clothes off her and find out her name and address.

' He turned back to William and Beth told the porters to put the trolley in one of the curtained cubicles and began to get her patient undressed.

A difficult job; the girl was in great pain and never still, but even more difficult was the task of finding out her name and where she lived.

She was ready for examination, wrapped carefully in a blanket, before Beth was able to discover that she was Tracey Blake and that she lived at number twenty, Melscham Road, one of the dingy streets only a few minutes from the hospital.

"I feel awful," she muttered as Beth put her head round the curtains to say that she was ready and then went back to hold the girl's cold hand.

The registrar had arrived by now and had joined the profess or in his examination of the patient.

The two men were very gentle as well as thorough; at length the profess or straightened his back and looked across to his colleague.

"It's an ectopic--a cla.s.sical example of internal bleeding, pallor, severe pain.

' He raised his eyebrows in mute inquiry and added: "Straight away, don't you think?

We'll have to have a cross-match--theatre in fifteen minutes?

Could you arrange it?

' The registrar hurried away and the profess or turned to the girl.

"Tracey, we can get rid of that pain for you, but we shall have to operate in just a short time.

You won't know anything about it and when it's all over and you wake up, the pain will be gone.

' "Promise?

' "Oh, yes, I promise.

How old are you?

' "Fifteen.

' He glanced round to where Beth was standing.

"Miss Partridge, get the Path Lab here for a cross-match, will you, and tell Hill to get whichever anaesthetist is on call, and someone must contact her parents so that we can have a consent form.

' "T'll go," said Beth.

' I know where she lives and it's close by, I can be back in ten minutes.

I'll give your messages to Hill on the way out.

' She hurried through the drab streets, wondering as she went why the profess or called her Beth at one moment and Miss Partridge at the next; she could think of no satisfactory answer, though, and there was really no time.

She found number twenty without difficulty and banged on its shabby door.

The woman who answered it didn't look too friendly, but then, Beth acknowledged silently, if she lived in a place like Melscham Road, she wouldn't be all that forthcoming to strangers herself.

She asked in her pleasant voice: "Mrs Blake?

You have a daughter called Tracey?

' The woman stared at her.