The Wonderful Day Page 5

  “Sometimes it is necessary to be cruel in order to be kind. I mean no harm to your people, but they must learn to forget your nonsense and obey me instead of you and your God. Isolated as they are, they can neither help themselves nor others, and I will not leave them to store up trouble for the future. We want no internecine wars to slow progress later on. One nation! One leader! One purpose! That is the only way to restore our former greatness.”

  “You think that you are hard,” said Wendle quietly. “But you are not hard. It is easy to refuse responsibility, to shout and bluster and be a slave to what you are pleased to call your ‘duty’. But that is the coward’s way. It takes a brave man to accept his burdens and admit what he is.” He looked at Carl. “You will not take the boy because you know that he is a part of you, as each man is a part of each other, united in God. The cripple is better than you, for he carries his cross where all can see it. You, too, have a cross—but it is not the one you think it is.”

  “Philosophy,” sneered Carl. “Is that all you can do?”

  “I could curse you, but I will not. Instead I shall, pity you, for of all the men I have met, you are most in need of pity.”

  “Fool!” Carl thrust the old man from him as he rose. “Pity? Curse me if you will but save your pity for those who need it. I need nothing you can give me.”

  “Are you certain of that?” Wendle looked up from where Carl had thrown him. “This is your hour, my son. Tomorrow it may be another’s. Can you demand charity when you refuse to give it? Are you ready to meet your God?”

  Carl laughed as he walked away.

  * * * *

  The waiting room was, as usual, full when Carl entered the hospital. Janson limped after him, his scarred face twisted with the pain from his injured leg, and swore when a man bumped into him.

  “You!” Carl pointed towards a man sitting on a bench. “Get up!”

  “Why?” The man didn’t move. “I was here first.”

  “Get up!” Carl strode forward, gripped the man by his shoulder and, half-lifting him from the bench, threw him towards the centre of the room. “Sit down, sergeant. I’ll get some action around here.”

  Sally met him at the door. She was white, strained and, as usual, over tired and over worked. “What do you want?”

  “Where’s Gibson?”

  “Doctor Gibson is attending surgery. Shall I make an appointment?”

  “You can make what you damn well like—just as long as I get some attention from you people. Where’s Collins?”

  “Attending surgery.”

  “Fenshaw?”

  “The same.”

  “Are you trying to be clever with me?” Carl scowled down into her white face. “Listen. My sergeant’s in trouble and I want him treated.”

  “If he registers at the desk the doctor will see him as soon as possible.”

  “I want him treated now.” Irritably he pushed past her. “Collins! Gibson! Where the hell is everyone?”

  “What’s the trouble?” John stepped out of his office just as Collins joined Sally and Carl in the corridor. “Do I have to remind you, Carl, that this is a hospital? Save your shouting for the parade ground.”

  “What’s the trouble, Carl?” Collins stepped forward. “Anything I can do?”

  “Janson’s got a wounded leg. We’ve been on the road for over a month now and it’s been giving him hell. I want you to treat him.”

  “Certainly. Where is he?”

  “Outside.”

  “Bring him in.” Collins looked at Sally. “Well? Didn’t you hear me? Bring the patient in.”

  “Just a minute, Sally.” John stepped forward and caught her arm. “Janson will have to wait. There are others out there who’ve been waiting a long time now. They must come first.”

  “Must they?” Carl took a deep breath. “Listen. We’ve a lot of work to do and Janson can hardly stand. You’d treat an emergency, wouldn’t you? Very well then, consider him as an emergency.”

  “Is he dying?”

  “No.”

  “Is he in immediate danger of death from loss of blood?”

  “You know damn well he isn’t.”

  “Then where’s the emergency?” John shook his head. “Sorry, Carl, but your man will have to wait his turn.”

  “You....” Carl gritted his teeth against his rising anger. “Janson is important to me and I want him to receive treatment. I can’t spare him for a few days until you decide to make up your minds as to whether you’ll condescend to see him or not. Now, do you attend him or....”

  “I’ll attend to him,” said Collins hastily. “Bring him to my office.”

  “Good. I won’t forget this, Collins.” Carl stared at John. “I won’t forget any of it.”

  “Are you threatening me, Carl?”

  “I don’t threaten, Gibson. I don’t have to. I merely state facts.” He nodded towards Collins as Janson hobbled into the passage. “He will see to you, sergeant. Join me at H.Q. when you’ve finished.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Silently, the young doctor led the way into his office. Sally stared after him, then at the retreating back of Carl.

  “They mean to make trouble, John, you know that?”

  “I know it.” He didn’t remark on her use of his first name. “Let them try.”

  “You have a plan?”

  “No, I’m not much good at making plans, Sally, but everything will come out all right in the end.” He smiled at her; then, as he saw the fine beads of moisture glistening on her forehead, lost the smile to a sudden frown. “Sally! Are you ill?”

  “No.” She struggled to hide her pain, struggled and failed. “It’s nothing, I’ll be all right.”

  “Let me examine you.”

  “No, John, please.” She blushed as she stared down at her hands. “I’ll see Doctor Fenshaw.”

  “You promise?”

  “Yes, John. I promise.”

  He smiled down at her, gently touching her sallow cheek with the tips of his fine, surgeon’s hands and, for a moment, something of their old intimacy returned. A fragment from the past when she had been radiant with the beauty only love can bring and the two of them had run from reality into a sparkling world of make-believe.

  A world later lit by the fury of exploding atoms.

  Staring at her, he felt a sudden tenderness so that, for an instant, he felt a desire to take her in his arms and comfort her. Almost he did it. Almost he managed to shatter the barrier they had built between them; then, as he hesitated, she turned away and the moment was past.

  He did not see her tears.

  * * * *

  Fenshaw had been drinking but he wasn’t drunk. He stared at her over the rim of a cracked mug, gulped the unappetising brew it contained and slopped more of the crude, home-distilled spirit into the container. He was a big, cynical, foul-mouthed man and, because of experiences, which he never talked about, had an ingrained disgust of everything human. Now he looked at Sally and waited for her to speak.

  “Doctor Gibson said that I should ask you to examine me.”

  “What’s the matter? Can’t he do it himself?”

  “I didn’t want him to examine me.”

  “So?” Fenshaw gulped at his liquor. “Why not?”

  “He’s too busy, and Carl has been making trouble again.”

  “Carl’s a cocky little swine who wants cutting down to size.” Fenshaw pushed away he mug and leaned forward on the table. “I heard the row out there, and I know all about our little Carl. Give him a gun to play with and he thinks he’s got the world by the tail. Let him push a few morons around and he thinks that he’s God. He spat. “That in Carl’s eye.”

  “He’s got a lot of influence. Most of the people are only too willing to obey him.”

  “Sure they are. They’d be only too willing to follow anyone who did their thinking for them. It was cretins like that which ruined the world.” He burped and reached for the bottle. “One day I’ll settle Carl for good.
”

  “How? He’s armed, and so are his men.”

  “And a gun is power, eh? Is that it?” Fenshaw snorted. “Well, I’ve got power, too.” He fumbled in a drawer and grinned as he found what he was looking for. “See? Nice and bright and shiny. Loaded in all six.” He sobered as he stared at the revolver. “I don’t suppose that I’ll ever need the other five.”

  “Please, doctor. Put that thing away.”

  “Yes.” He dropped the pistol back into the drawer. “Handling guns can be dangerous. They make a man think that he’s a God, with the power of life and death. Nasty things, guns, but they lave their uses.” He looked it the woman. “Well? Do you want me to examine you or not?”

  “Just tell Doctor Gibson that you examined me. He may worry about it unless he knows that it has been done.”

  “So that’s it. Who do you think you’re kidding, Sally? I may be hitting the bottle lately, but I’m still a doctor and I can tell when a person is ill. You’re ill both mentally and physically. Why don’t you want John to know?”

  “Please.” She made as if to rise, then winced as he caught her hands. “Don’t! You’re hurting me!”

  “Then sit down and listen, This nonsense has gone far enough.” He waited until he was seated. “First, the mental trouble. What happened, Sally? Did you sneak off together and wake up in your love-nest with the world in flames and his wife a roasted corpse? Was that it?” He nodded as he stared at her. “I thought so. But you can’t wash out the guilt that way, Sally. So what, if his wife did die while you were having fun? Is that bad? If he’d been with her he would have died, too.”

  “Don’t!” she pleaded. “It was like a judgment.”

  “Religious?” Fenshaw shrugged. “That would make it worse, but Sally, that’s all over now. And what about John? Don’t you owe him something, too? Damn it, girl, the man needs you. Why don’t you give in? Can’t you see that he’s in love with you?” Fenshaw gestured towards the couch. “Take off your things and let’s have a look at you.”

  * * * *

  She had guessed the verdict. Twenty years in a hospital had made her too familiar with most bodily complaints and she had long ago diagnosed her own symptoms. But even then it was a shock to discover the truth. Fenshaw had been thorough. He had probed and tested, checked and double checked, using all his skill to replace the equipment which would have made the examination easy, and when he was finished neither of them had any doubt.

  “It’s bad, Sally.” Fenshaw stared into a corner as she dressed and, from the tone of his voice, she could tell that he was shaken. “My guess is a malignant tumour in the ovary. If I had an X-ray I’d be certain but, even as it is, I’d stake my life on it.”

  “Yes.” She fastened the last button and stepped towards him. “I thought it was that.”

  “You knew?” He stared at her, then, obeying some wild instinct to escape, snatched up the bottle and gulped at the spirit. “John?”

  “He doesn’t know, doesn’t even guess. That is why I couldn’t let him examine me.”

  “But why not? Damn it, Sally, we can operate, save your life. Why didn’t you report sick before this?”

  “We were too busy, there was too much to do and not enough time to do it in.” She flushed beneath his stare. “Don’t look at me like that.”

  “You must have been damned attractive three years ago,” he said slowly. “John, too, is still a handsome fellow. Why did you let that thing inside you eat away your vitality? Don’t you realise that you’ve wasted the past three years of your lives?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “But why didn’t you speak before? Why? You’re a nurse, Sally, not a stupid girl afraid of an operation which would save your life.” Irritably he began to pace the floor. “Why? Why?” Abruptly he stopped and pointed an accusing finger at her. “Now I know! You both got a dose of radiation poisoning, didn’t you? You couldn’t help getting it—most of us did, and if I know you and John, both of you would do what you could to help. Did you?”

  “Yes, but we got over it.”

  “You think you did. That growth must have been triggered off by the radiations.” He snorted with impatience. “A judgment! Of course! You accepted the tumour as a judgment and you’ve been hugging the knowledge to yourself, revelling in your pain and the thought of your approaching death as punishment and payment for your sin. Sin! What’s so sinful about two people being in love? You fool, Sally! You stupid fool!”

  “It’s not that,” she protested. “At first there couldn’t possibly be an operation. We didn’t have the equipment or anything, and then.... Then it didn’t seem to matter. John was so busy...I....”

  “Have a drink.” Fenshaw thrust the mug beneath her nose and passed her his handkerchief. “Wipe those eyes and act your age. Damn it, Sally, I haven’t seen a woman cry like that for years. So you didn’t care about dying because you thought John blamed you for his not being with his wife when she died. Rubbish! I’ll bet he’s been eating his heart out waiting for a sign from you! Men don’t miss what they don’t want, Sally, not when they’ve got what they really need.”

  “You think so, Sam?”

  “I know so. Now swallow that muck and pull yourself together. We’ve got to do something about this.”

  “No.”

  “What do you mean, ‘no’? Are you going to act silly again?”

  “It’s not that.” She smiled as she wiped her eyes. “Leave it for a little while. John has enough to worry about with Carl and Collins acting the way they are. Don’t let us give him something more to worry about.”

  “You haven’t got long, Sally,” said Fenshaw seriously. “The quicker we operate the better chance we have of curing you. Delay will only make matters worse; you’ve almost waited too long as it is.”

  “I know. I’ll tell him.”

  “If you don’t then I will.”

  “I’ll tell him, Sam. I promise.”

  He stared at her, letting his imagination clothe her wasted body with firm, resilient flesh, fill the hollows of her cheeks, smooth the lines of fatigue and pain from her too-white features. He glossed her hair, touched a sparkle to her eyes, coloured her lips and dressed her as a woman should be dressed. He stared at her until she flushed and then, after he had seen what she had once been and could be again, turned to the numbing euphoria of the bottle.

  He didn’t hear her leave the room.

  * * * *

  John was alone in his office when Carl came to see him. He looked up as the young man entered and frowned at the hovering figure of Janson standing just behind his master.

  “Carl. What do you want?”

  “I want a talk with you, Gibson. I think that we’d better have Collins in here, too.”

  “And Janson?”

  “Janson can wait outside.” Carl jerked his head at his sergeant. “Send Collins in here and stand by.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  They waited in silence until Collins entered, closing the door quietly behind him, and from the young doctor’s expression John knew that Carl’s presence was no mystery to him.

  “Let’s get this over with.” Carl gestured Collins to a chair and stared at John. “Two days ago we had an argument as to whether or not you should give priority to my sergeant. I told you then that I’d do something about it. Well, here I am.”

  “I can see that,” said John mildly. “With armed guards?”

  “Never mind that. What does matter is the way you run this hospital. I know that you’ve done wonderful work here, Gibson, and I’m grateful to you for it. We’re all grateful, but the time has come to be realistic. You know what I’m getting at, I suppose?”

  “You want me to refuse treatment to all chronic cases and incurables. You want me to select those who shall benefit by my skill.” John shrugged. “I’ve had all this from your disciple and, to be frank, I’m getting fed up with it. The answer is still no.”

  “You refuse to co-operate?”

  “If
that’s what you call it, yes.”

  “I see.” Carl stared down at his boots. “Listen, Gibson, this isn’t just a lot of talk I’m going to give you, it’s the bare truth. You know that I’ve swept this area from edge to edge. I’ve searched every square yard and collected everything that could possibly be of use. It wasn’t too hard a job—the area isn’t that big, but the point I’m making is this—we have all that there is to be had in this part of the country. There may be others living beyond the contaminated areas, there probably are, but we can’t be certain of that. As far as we are concerned this area is all that is left of England—and we are the sole population.”

  “So?”

  “So we can’t waste anything. We daren’t waste anything. To survive at all we’ve got to be ruthless, merciless, cruel to be kind, hard so that our children and their children can have something left to call their own. What we do now will determine the fate of a nation, England. What we do now will be our children’s heritage.”

  “You don’t have to convince me,” said John coldly. “And I suggest that you save your rhetoric for a more receptive audience.”

  “All right. You want facts, here they are. We can’t feed the old folk. We can’t take care of cripples and those with chronic illness. We can’t replace your drugs and medicines. If a man is too badly injured, then he must die. If a man is suffering from a disease, then he must die also. We cannot afford mercy, Gibson, not if we are to live and grow.”

  “I know what you’re getting at, Carl, and I warn you, I don’t like it.”

  “Like it or not, you’ll do it. From now no cases will be treated which you cannot cure. Workers and essential members of the community will have priority for medical treatment. That makes sense, doesn’t it? If you can get a worker back on his feet then he can help to grow more food to feed you. While you obey the laws of the community then you will be supported in everything you need. Refuse, and....”

  “And Collins will take over the hospital,” John stared at the young doctor. “Is that right, Collins?”

  “That’s right,” snapped Carl. “Well?”