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

floor. A minute later, as if steeling himself, he rolled Willie on his side, and put his arm round him.
    ‘That’s great. Cuddle up close and keep your arm there. It’ll stop him rolling out. Now, either whistle or chat to him, whilst I get some more bedclothes.’
    Jock’s whistle was a tuneless accompaniment as I rushed through to his bedroom. I grabbed an ancient purple quilt and grey blankets off the bed and seized a pair of socks so grimy they must have been used instead of shoes.
    ‘That’s my socks, and my quilt, my quilt!’ protested Jock as I returned, laden. ‘And, Nursie, I’m no complainin’ but you’ll have me boiling, boiling!’ And certainly his face had returned to its usual rosy hue. Still, after I’d navigated the socks past Willie’s long, horny toenails and onto his feet, I thought it best to take both of the brothers’ pulses.
    ‘You’re fine,’ I said to Jock, wishing my real patient was registering the same healthy beat. ‘And I’ll make sure you get the socks back. Anyway, you’re doing a grand job. You’re better than a hot water bottle.’
    ‘As long as I don’t start leaking, leaking.’ Even if beads of sweat were forming on Jock’s brow, he was beginning to relax and able to tell me where I could get the necessary to start the fire.
    ‘Look in the range cupboard. Plenty kindlers there,’ he said. ‘And you’ll get paper under Willie’s chair-cushion, cushion. That’s where he keeps the P&J. ’
    Willie was never going to get a medal for housekeeping but the sticks piled inside the wee range were stacked with such precision it seemed a shame to use them. There was a bonus to the unusual use of the oven too, for the sticks were bone dry. Soon I’d a good fire going.
    Casting flickering shapes on the walls, it brought a little cheer to the sparsely furnished room and ill-lit living room. Lampshades wouldn’t have had a high rating on the brothers’ shopping list but at least the house had electricity so that a hot drink would be possible. The thought was encouraging, but I’d been so engrossed on tending the fire I hadn’t noticed that Jock had stopped whistling.
    I rushed through to the bedroom. To my surprised relief, he’d actually fallen asleep. With his pink scalp and his wrinkles relaxed in slumber he looked like an elderly untroubled cherub. I breathed again, then checked Willie. He was beginning to get back some colour, and his pulse and temperature were picking up.
    I knew there was a farmhouse just along the road. Maybe they had a phone. It was worth a try.
    ‘I’m going to ask your neighbours for a bit of help,’ I whispered to the two recumbent forms, ‘and I’ll be right back.’
    Although the distance between the houses was short, I was glad to get there without the Morris slipping off the farm road.
    ‘Mercy me!’ exclaimed the lady who answered the door to my frantic knock. She shouted to someone over her shoulder, ‘Hugh, come here! There’s a car with a nurse here and she’s saying the boys are in big trouble.’
    Confidentiality wasn’t a big issue, I thought, forgiving myself for my garbled introduction. ‘Actually, if I could use your phone that would be a great help.’ I said, then, trying for a less dramatic approach, ‘I’m sure they’re going to be fine but I’d just like to speak to Sister Shiach first.’
    ‘Ah! Sister Shiach! She’s one girl. She’ll know what to do. Did she not deliver all our children, Hugh?’ With the inference that my mentor couldn’t have had a better qualification or the world to be in better hands, the woman relaxed and leant against the door jamb. As if to illustrate her point, two sturdy-looking youngsters joined her and beamed up at me. They had a well-fed look and confident way that I would have loved Bell’s Shirl to have had.
    Meanwhile, Hugh, perhaps more attuned to anxiety, came to the door and beckoned me in, saying to his wife, ‘Och, stop your blethering. Can’t you see the