The Angel
...
'Ting, ting-ting,'
Our camp Sergeant Major had once told me that this sound was akin to that of a smithy's hammer and it occurred to me at the time that this was a profoundly romantic association, when in reality it was the sound of bullets raining upon our tents.
'Ting, tin, tin."
Occasionally they would hit the canvas and then they became somewhat more of a whirling sound, similar to a boiling kettle and would screech through the night air. It was then that we would all have to duck below our bunks to avoid getting hit, such was standard procedure. Most of us eventually became tired of this and simply pulled the bed covers tighter about our heads, impervious and ignorant
However I dutifully obliged tonight, diving below the mattress and waiting for the sound to stop. Indeed I moved jolly quickly and felt rather safe, despite the shaking...
'Ting, tin, tud ,thud',
The noise changed in tone, but became louder in volume.
'Thud, thud ,thud.'
It suddenly occurred to me that I was cowering under a bed at Barts Hospital and in central London... this was not Afghanistan. Once I had acknowledged this, then it took me a few seconds to become fully awake and pull myself together, then I got back on top of the bed. However the shaking did not stop, nor did the noise.
'Thud, thud, thud.'
It was obviously someone knocking on my door, how foolish of me. Though it was indeed an odd occurrence; Billy always called me by name when I was needed.
"Miss Watson!"
Gosh my name, "hello, sorry. I'm awake, is there an emergency?"
"About time, yes get out here quickly."
"Who is there, is that you Billy?"
"Who the devil is Billy? This is Sherlock Holmes."
"Holmes?"
"Sherlock Holmes madam, we have met before, twice in-fact."
"Mr Holmes, what on earth are you here for?" I pinched myself to see if I was still in a nightmare.
"Unfortunately you are needed, I have a..." there was a moment of silence behind my door, "I require your assistance madam. There is a life at stake, you need to hasten."
"But you must register with Billy the night Porter and then he always comes to me."
"Oh for christ's-sake Miss Watson, I've no time for your female formality. I have a police officer needing urgent attention, would you please make yourself presentable, I demand you open this blastered door now."
The situation felt somewhat ridiculous, but I continued nonetheless, "you must register the patient with the hospital porter Mr Holmes, that would be the proper thing to do." I clung to my nightgown and modesty, despite the locked door.
"It is abundantly clear madam that I do not wish to follow the 'proper' procedures," he hissed back and I almost felt my door shudder with his tone. "I am here ..." again there was a pause, "not through choice. He insists on discretion and if you do not administer aid to this man, he shall also insist on staying in the morgue on a somewhat more permanent basis."
"You have left a patient in the morgue?" I was completely aghast that anyone would do such a thing.
"Yes, best place if you want to remain inconspicuous, I've spent many a night in there myself. Now get yourself dressed and out here directly, I will be waiting."
One half of my brain set me to dress urgently while the more sensible half began to question such a dubious summons at so late an hour. However, the thought of some helpless victim in the hands of the odious Mr Holmes and possibly dying in the hospital basement pressed me onwards. I was presentable in less than ten minutes and outside ready to confront the devil himself in eleven.
Mr Holmes was leaning against the opposite wall, a small candle in his hand, "you took your time."
Having to accommodate a half-fastened corset and only one stocking I was in no mood for his criticism, "I did my best sir, my usual call time is fifteen minutes and do not expect me to move fast as I have various parts of myself missing or loose right now, pray proceed."
I felt a sudden heat to my cheeks as he pursed and his eyes darted across me, he tilted his head to one side, "are you cold or just frightened?"
"Both."
"No it is neither, I have disturbed your dreams I see," his elbow brushed against mine as he turned and I shivered again.
He moved on quickly regardless and entirely in the wrong direction. "Mr Holmes, the morgue is to our right, you are leading me elsewhere and I am already suspicious of your motives, please explain yourself."
He stopped and sighed with exasperation, "there is a quicker route to the rear of admissions. You should know that madam, if not please take note, as it is your quickest point of exit should you need to leave the building in a hurry. This way please."
"Certainly not, we will have to go through Ward Two. I need to collect various items to treat your patient and will you please slow down."
"Time is of the essence, see him and then tell me what you want; I will see to your needs afterwards."
"Mr Holmes, I can see from the amount of blood on your person that this patient is haemorrhaging considerably, I assume there will be stitches, bandaging and treatment against possible infection?"
He looked at me momentarily stunned, as through I had two heads, then his jaw tightened and that huge nose shot up, "yes, highly likely."
"Then Mr Holmes you will kindly lead me through Ward Two as I have asked and we will collect my things, then I can get to work directly." He seemed to hesitate so I moved in advance of him, "ahead and onwards sir."
"You will get your supplies Miss Watson and I will return to the Inspector. No-doubt he has probably bleed to death after all this time-wasting and tittle-tattle."
I turned around to him in alarm, "surely you would not have left him alone if..."
But he was gone again, indeed the man had an infuriating capacity to just simply disappear.
... to be continued.