Call Me Sister by Jane Yeadon Read Free Book Online Page A

Willie’s body. His face was pale as a ghost, his skin had the clammy feel of a corpse, and he was only wearing a vest. I didn’t need a thermometer to diagnose hypothermia. Willie’s condition was serious but at least I could tell on taking his pulse and feeling its sluggish flicker that he was still alive.
    I prodded him gently, unsurprised when nothing happened. Knowing Willie’s reluctance to speak, I didn’t expect floods of eloquence. Still, it’d have been lovely to have heard a grunt.
    ‘See what a grand sleeper he is, he is.’ Jock stood in the doorway and spoke in admiration.
    I ran over to him, grabbed his hat and stuck it on Willie’s head. ‘Look, Jock, if he was any colder, he’d be frozen stiff. That’s a fine enough vest he’s got on but have you any scarves, more blankets and have you a phone?’
    Jock patted his head as if to check his hat had really gone. ‘Yes-yes and no. What would we be doing with a telyphone? A telyphone?’ He looked at me in astonishment.
    ‘Making a 999 call,’ I could’ve said, only I didn’t want to alarm a perfectly healthy man whose rosy complexion had just faded to a worrying grey. One patient was enough.
    I glanced through a grimy window across which a tattered lace curtain was stretched. The night was far darker now but the sky had cleared, leaving some deeply red-tinged clouds, suggesting that tomorrow might bring more settled weather. Standing close to the house was a tree. It was leafless, showing still and black against the skyline, whilst the fallen snow made everywhere else sparkle. It could have been a magical scene had there not been someone so completely lost to it.
    In hospital, doctors were around to take ultimate responsibility. I hadn’t anticipated this level of drama on district but now, after such a short time, I was in the thick of it. Willie’s life depended on me taking the right action.
    ‘Always remember us girls are guests in people’s houses and sometimes not very welcome ones at that,’ Sister Shiach had advised, ‘so it’s important you don’t act as if you owned the place.’
    I considered this for half a second, then in a steely mode that would have appealed far more to Sister Gall, I drilled out the words, ‘Look here, Jock. We’ve got to get Willie’s temperature back up. He’s ill, you know. We must get that fire on and you’ll need to find more bedclothes. Quickly now!’ Then belatedly, ‘Please.’
    But Jock had lost the place thanks either to my tone or to being deprived of his hat. Lost to despair, he just clutched his egg-like head and softly moaned. At length he managed, ‘Oh, Nursie, Nursie, my brother!’ He hadn’t even repeated himself. He was ashen-faced. This could be serious. So much for people taking instruction.
    Personal accountability was one of the reasons I wanted to be a district nurse. In hospital, I hadn’t cared for leading a team, hadn’t felt I would need to have the same instructional expertise on district. Now here I was, with a team of just one whom I’d managed to put in as much in danger of collapse as my existing patient.
    My call then. Given the domestic circumstances, I’d have to settle for something unconventional.
    I took Jock’s arm and steered him towards the bed, grateful it was a three-quarter size. ‘Okay, Jock, I know you’ll think this is daft, but if you want to be really, really helpful, climb in with Willie then hold onto him for dear life.’
    My team member stepped back, looking horrified. ‘What! He’s my brother, he’ll no like that.’
    ‘Well, that might be a good thing. Anything to make his brain register. In the meantime, your body heat will transfer to him. In fact, you could just be his lifesaver. Go on!’
    Somewhere in my training, after all, I must’ve picked up on how to give a command that gave a result because Jock threw himself on the bed. As he climbed under the bedclothes, there was a clunk as he kicked off his boots and they hit the