A Surgical Affair by Shirley Summerskill Page A

the lane until at last she reached a farmhouse. After telephoning the hospital, she hurried back to the car, shivering, wet and exhausted.
    “He’s come around. I think he’ll be all right,” Sister said thankfully. She had put her coat over Mark, and he sat with his head resting on the back of the seat. “That man who stepped into the lane—just disappeared. How could anybody be so selfish and inconsiderate?”
    Diana collapsed into the back o f the car. She suddenly felt very sick. It didn’t seem possible that only an hour ago they had all been sitting by the fire at Mr. Cole’s house.
    A few minutes later the ambulance arrived and took them all back to the hospital.
    The casualty officer put four stitches into a deep cut on Mark’s forehead. Although a skull X-ray didn’t show a fracture, everyone insisted that Mark should spend the night in the side room of Mr. Cole’s men’s surgical ward.
    Sister went off to sleep at the Nurses’ Home, and Diana changed into a skirt and warm sweater before she went to say goodnight to Mark in the ward.
    “The car,” he said quietly, as Diana sat beside his bed. “Don’t worry about that. The police have moved it—to the side of the lane. It still goes, but it’s badly damaged.” She picked up the cup of tea from his table. “Here, drink this before it gets cold. ”
    “I prefer coffee.”
    She smiled. “Don’t be awkward. I’ve brought you a sleeping tablet. Night Sister gave it to me.”
    “All this fuss,” he murmured. “I suppose they’ll be measuring my blood pressure every half hour all through the night.”
    “Now you’ll know what it’s like to be a patient.”
    Mark looked at her intently. “Are you all right? You look pale.”
    “I’m better, now that I’m warm and dry.”
    Diana watched him as he drank the tea, then said, “Will your friend be cross—about the car?”
    “I expect so. Still, it’s insured.” He put down the cup and took her hand in his. “You and Sister won’t be coming out with me again in a hurry. I’d never have forgiven myself if anything had happened to either of you tonight.”
    “We know it wasn’t your fault,” Diana assured him.
    Mark touched the bandage on his forehead and grinned. “Well, I may be left with a scar to remind me of our first evening out together!”
    “Sister told me tonight about her operation. Did you know?”
    “Cole told me.” Mark’s eyes were shut. “It’s going to be quite a party,” he said wearily.
    Diana switched off the light and sat with him in the tiny room for a few minutes.
    Then she leaned over and gently stroked his soft hair. “Dear Mark,” she whispered.
    He was breathing deeply as she left him.
    Back in the residents’ quarters, Diana met Bill Evans in the corridor. He grinned and stood in front of her, blocking the way.
    “You’re up very late, Dr. Field. Been discussing an important case with our friend Royston, I suppose?” He laughed—or rather, leered.
    Diana glared at him. She was tired and disliked Bill Evans, particularly when he was facetious, but she didn’t want to wake everybody.
    “Let me pass, please,” she whispered fiercely.
    He smiled and put his hands on her arms, gripping them firmly. Diana wrenched herself free and brought her right hand up to his face, slapping it with all the strength she could muster. Then she pushed past him and into her room, locking the door behind her.
    The rain was beating relentlessly on the windows when, much later, she lay in the dark, unable to sleep.
    Diana was confused and bewildered by a sudden realization. “I’m in love with Mark Royston!” she thought. “That car accident has changed my whole life ... And I thought my registrar would be an ogre!”

 
    CHAPTER NINE
    Sister Baker was in her bedroom, dusting the top of her closet, when Diana arrived at the apartment. She had come to carry the suitcase and generally cheer Sister up on the way to hospital.
    The telephone rang.
    “Hello, Nan!