Log Camp Nurse

By Arlene J. Fitzgerald, ©1966
Cover illustration by Mort Engel 

Beautiful Tove Jensen was reared in a lumber camp, but after nursing school she moved to Cosmo Beach at the center of the movie industry. There she found love for the first time. A tragic accident called her back to the lumber camp where she met Dr. Bryden. Then she was torn between two loves. Would it be the courageous lumber camp doctor or the handsome California M.D.? The decision would forever alter her life.

GRADE: C-

BEST QUOTES:
“A pagan wouldn’t have bothered with formalities. He would simply have dragged you off to his lair by those corn silk tresses and had his way with you. Perhaps I should try that.” 

“Dedicate yourself to the cause you were made for—that of making a man happy.”

“When you’re tired of mopping sweat and grime from rugged brows, come back to me, darling. Maybe by then you’ll be ready to shed that noble white garment, and settle down to being my lovely and obedient bride.”

“She always liked to start a new case feeling as fresh and crisp as the pert, white cap perched on top of her shining head which looked like a spread winged dove ready to take flight.”

REVIEW:
Arlene Fitzgerald is one of those writers whose work sometimes tiptoes the fine line between clever and stupid. Is it bad writing or hilarious camp when the nurse and her heartthrob doctor make out over the still-warm body of a patient who has just died, or when a bum for some unfathomable reason decides to eat the powder he discovers in the stomach of a dead fish he’s found on the beach and overdoses on cocaine? It’s a rhetorical question not easily answered, but in the case of Log Camp Nurse it’s essentially moot, because no such hilariously bizarre scenes unfold. Rather here Arlene has given us a clearly dull book without much interest or camp in this falsely advertised log camp, though we are subject to a few of her more annoying quirks (the nurse’s penchant for “ligating” or “clamping” or “tying off” or “severing” a thought or feeling frequently occurring behind her sternum with “the cold, firm scalpel of nurse’s discipline”), plus a few of the usual VNRN hackneyed plot devices that make no sense whatsoever. 

Here we find Tove Jansen (because Arlene loves the unusual name—witness Key and Glee and Stag) visiting her father in a logging camp similar to the ones she grew up in because her dad is a timber man, when a flood doesn’t actually trap her there. But when she’s driving out of the mountains she encounters a truck that has crashed, killing the passenger and severely injuring the driver. The next car that comes along just happens to contain the handsomely homely camp doctor, Russ Bryden, who kisses her in the road before rescuing the injured man, so she decides to quit her job in Cosmo Beach in a hospital for wealthy hypochondriacs who all appear to be female. But she can’t quite bring herself to also abandon her not-quite-fiancé Paul Sleeter, who she swears she loves but actually does not like very much (on pretty much every other page we are told how “handsome, suave, sophisticated, ambitious,” “polished” and “immaculate” he is, while being assured that “she had tried to convince herself she did love Paul” even as “the glamour of being married to a man like Paul had worn thin” and as she pants for Dr. Russ, who “made her heart act up” and “did things to her that Paul had never been able to do, even in their most tender moments”).

Most of the book involves Tove and Russ being hauled from one emergency to another, Tove somehow being the only healthcare professional available any time a woman goes into labor (for a camp with a population of several hundred, babies are born on a startlingly frequent basis), which means appalling preparations of shaving and enemas and sterile “technic” for a completely unsterile vaginal birth and shoving the husband out the door (one of whom is suspected of heading straight into the arms of the camp prostitute because his wife’s pregnant body is so unattractive, causing the woman to decide that she will not be having any more children). Paul makes the obligatory appearance in the humble logging camp to assist in a splenectomy for a patient who had been shot, an astonishingly dry surgery for a patient who we are told is bleeding out. During his little visit he affectionately assures his would-be bride that “if I thought that homely, red- headed doctor had done anything to smirch your conscience—or that you had allowed him to—I’d kill you both, darling.” And so he continues to win Tove’s admiration as well as ours.

You know where this book is headed from the first chapter, and Arlene gives us none of her fantastic flights of reality to enliven the story in this frankly dull book. Even the end—the ubiquitous mine cave-in in which Tove is the only person small enough to squeeze through the tiny opening in the rocks to administer the live-giving treatment of tucking a wool blanket around the man with a crushed chest, and the too-soon appearance of Dr. Russ, who manages to get through with two additional men and a stretcher about ten minutes later—is boring. We know Arlene is capable of delivering a lot more laughs—again, whether intentional or not, whether out of delight or derision, involves a much longer discussion—but the end result is that in Log Camp Nurse she does not give us anything worth reading, for better or for worse.

Arms and the Girl

By Marguerite Mooers Marshall, ©1942

GRADE: B+

BEST QUOTES:
“The Lord knows we men are an undecorative species. I hope you can stand looking at me across the table.” 

“Beautiful girls like you should do nothing but exist.”

“People get the poetry they deserve.”

“I am going to have a relapse. You don’t take me seriously any longer.”

“There’s nothing so becoming to a pretty girl as a nurse’s uniform.” 

“Facts are so bald and unimaginative. Facts often annoy. If embroidered or flavored, they are easier to take.”

“You can always get killed in a war if you insist, and frequently if you don’t.”

REVIEW:
This book was a surprise to me because I thought I had read all the VNRNs written my Marguerite Mooers Marshall, who is one of my favorite authors. So now there are five (see also Nurse into Woman, Wilderness Nurse, Her Soul to Keep and Nurse with Wings), and if this one is not her best, well, even Marshall’s mediocre books are still miles better than most. 

Here we find Rosemary Alden (yes, descended from those Aldens of Mayflower fame), who is nursing the mother of an old boyfriend. Mrs. Marianne Sibley is a spoiled, demanding, wealthy woman who wants more of a prop than a nurse, and the only thing that keeps Rosemary on the job is that she has been able to spend time with Philip Sibley, Marianne’s 24-year-old son, who is a sweet young man if utterly lacking seriousness, which is what keeps Rosemary from being, well, serious about him. Soon it comes to light that Philip is being called before the draft board—World War II is about to break loose in Europe—and Marianne is planning to tell them she’s destitute (she’d cleverly moved her money out of the markets and into her mattress a year ago), dependent on her son for maintenance, and furthermore that her health is so fragile that she will drop dead of a heart attack if he is drafted. In truth, Marianne wouldn’t drop dead if she were run over by a dump truck, and as Marianne’s meeting with her health team unfolds, all the doctors fall into line—but Rosemary, disgusted, tells them all off and quits on the spot.

From there she marches over to the Red Cross Nursing Committee to enlist in the Army. But before all the paperwork comes through, Philip is on her door telling her he is in love with her and begging her to marry him. He also mentions that his enlistment has been deferred and his mother is now healthy as a horse and has fired her new  nurse and doctor. She likes him a lot, she tells him, “yet it was all no use. He was a boy unwilling to do a man’s work, a boy who wouldn’t go where even she, a girl, was going. Anything else she might forgive—not refusal to pay a debt of honor, the greatest debt man or woman owes, the debt to country.”

So off she goes to war—well, not exactly, she goes to a training camp located near Winchester, Massachusetts! There she spends many long hours dreaming about Philip: “She remembered the tumbled hair, the tie and the hat never quite straight, the flash of even teeth in the wide irregular mouth when he laughed. She remembered his effortless physical power, his way of making friends with dogs and horses and small grimy children, his sheer boyish charm and decency. So much in him that was winning and fine—yet he flinched at the one hard, disagreeable task ever laid on his twenty-four years! With a frowning shrug, she resolved to put the young man out of her mind. And did not.”

Meanwhile, at the camp’s Officers Club—she’s a second lieutenant—she meets the debonair Captain Gerald Lee, who is Rhett Butler reincarnate, even hailing from a plantation in South Carolina. On their first meeting entices her to go on a date with him in Boston, and soon they are spending much free time together, and everyone is wondering when the engraved invitations will be mailed. But “she did not love him—did not, did not! Something in her so stubbornly resisted. And yet why?” Maybe it’s because she knows that on the very next page she’s going to receive a telegram telling her that Philip has joined the Army and is going to be arriving at her camp tomorrow!

When she meets Philip at the camp, he tells her he wants to prove to her that he has what it takes. “I’m willing to wait,” he tells her—which is a first in VNRNs, the man waiting for the woman! But the bad news here is that she’s an officer and he’s just a private, so they are absolutely forbidden to fraternize. Instead they just write letters to each other, and she continues to date Jerry Lee. And goes home to visit her parents in Belltown, which is a stand-in for the New Hampshire town Marshall grew up in (Kingston) and has appeared in all the other Marshall VNRNs I’ve read. But Philip finds out about Jerry and writes that she’s done him wrong by not letting him know there was someone else, and he’s through!

Two pages later Philip is wheeled into the infirmary, delirious from an infection in his leg, and she offers to special him for 24 hours a day until he is out of danger. So now they can clasp fervent hands and kiss goodnight, and she tells Philip she will stop seeing Jerry. But Jerry has other plans: When Rosemary and Philip secretly meet for a date in Boston, who should spot them strolling the North End but that rascal Jerry? He soon has a chat with Rosemary in which he tells her that it would be such a shame if anyone heard that the two were fraternizing, because it would be terrible for Philip’s career—he’s angling to go to Officer Training School. Unless she continues to date Jerry and stops seeing Philip, he tells her, he will ensure Philip is not accepted into officer training. She decides she will not communicate with Philip any longer—but he stops writing to her, and now she’s hurt that he’s apparently dumped her without a word, and never mind that’s what she was planning to do to him! Her pride keeps her from writing to him, and then she gets a letter from his mother saying that she’s told Philip she will disinherit him if he marries her. She doesn’t want to believe that this is why he is not writing, but can’t quite not believe it. In the meantime she goes out on very chilly dates with Jerry. There are a few twists to the story after this, and another lovely visit to Belltown to visit her father, who immediately names the problem and the obvious solution. Thanks, Dad!

This is another sweet, gentle book from Marshall. I always enjoy visiting Belltown in them, which is painted as an idyllic small town, and Rosemary’s father is a particularly endearing character. There are a few of Rosemary’s friends who are also excellently drawn as well. Ordinarily I might find all the patriotism a little thick, but in this era when our country’s democracy seems to be paper thin, I appreciated Rosemary’s fervent dedication to protecting it. In the end, if I can’t say this is Marshall’s best book, it is certainly one worth reading.

Cynthia Doyle, Nurse in Love

By Adelaide Humphries, ©1953
Cover illustration by Tom Miller 

What did it take to make Dr. Sellars notice her? wondered Nurse Cynthia Doyle. Oh, he was aware of her professionally. But it was discouraging to work by his side, to loo at him, her heart thumping wildly, and get no recognition from him that she was a WOMAN as well as a NURSE. Couldn’t he see that she was pretty? Couldn’t he see that she was flesh and blood and not an automaton? Cynthia decided it was high time she did something about the situation. But what—short of being brazen and forward—could a girl do to make Dr. Sellars see that he was the man for her, she the woman for him?

GRADE: C

BEST QUOTES:
“She wished Walt would stop referring to Norman as a man who had committed manslaughter.” 

“I must be getting on in years, she thought wryly, remembering that soon she would have a birthday and be all of twenty-four.”

REVIEW:
Cynthia Doyle is yet another VNRN heroine who is in love with a doctor who does not know she is alive. Dr. Walt Sellars is a handsome but dedicated man who is head of physical therapy at a clinic that seems to do nothing else except PT, in a poor part of their Virigina town. She’s beginning to see her life slipping away—at age 23, it must be confessed— because she has worked with him for two years and he’s never asked her for a date, though she gets a little frisson of excitement when their hands touch accidentally, and her heart pounds when he’s near. 

Then one day as she is walking home, she sees a car speed through the neighborhood and hit a young boy, then speed off. As the locals and cops gather, a man shows up and states he was the driver—but Cynthia knows it was a woman driving. Still she pipes up as the local “Nurse Lady” everyone knows and says that the car wasn’t speeding and that the accident couldn’t be avoided. The reason for her lie is that she’s worried that the crowd will get unruly: “She knew mob violence. It had to be snuffed out before it began to simmer.” The man, Norman Brandt, is ready to pay for all the child’s medical bills—and make a date with Cynthia. She snubs him mightily because he lied about being the driver, and never mind that she did, too, but guess who turns up at her apartment to take out her roommate that night? The roommate, Roz Effinger, is a gorgeous woman on the lookout for a rich husband—but has decided that Norman is the man she finally wants to commit to! The little problem is that Norman, having seen Cynthia cradling the stricken boy’s head on her lap in the middle of the street, has decided he’s in love with her.

This is about where the plot gets really peculiar. Norman, we are told, is some sort of former spy for the government who is now being recalled to Washington and doesn’t have to do any top secret missions anymore, so he’s free to tell everyone that he doesn’t do top secret work anymore ... because that makes so much sense. Cynthia tells Norman she won’t date him because Roz likes him, so he tells Roz that he’s in love with Cynthia, and Roz says, “I had hoped it might be me. But since it’s Cyn, and she’s quite something too, I wish you both luck.” It was hard for me to believe that a woman who cares about nothing except marrying a wealthy man would be so gracious when losing the “man of her dreams.” Then Walt, seeing that Norman has become interested in Cynthia, suddenly decides out of nowhere that he’s got to stop her from getting involved with Norman. “How he would hate to see Cynthia leave. Why, the clinic simply would not be the same place without her!” So he decides to employ “devious means” to find out how serious Norman is and to interfere. He orders Cynthia to take a month’s vacation in the hope that she will go back home to Indiana to see her family, but they’re on a long driving trip out West and aren’t home, so she just stays in town and dates Norman. Frustrated, Walt calls her up all the time, quizzes her about her activities, and gets pissy when she tells him honestly what she’s been doing.

Before too long, Norman kisses Cynthia and then proposes, because what else comes next? She reasonably says she’d like to take more time to get to know him, but then comes up with the idea that she’s going to try to get Walt to kiss her, to see if she likes it more than she liked kissing Norman. Walt then sort of goes off his rocker and drags Cynthia off from a date she’s on with Norman, telling her, “I won’t let you marry that Brandt fellow,” adding that the way he’s going to accomplish this is to marry her himself. Then he kisses her, and Cynthia is left “wide-eyed and unbelieving,” but “it had not left her weak and shaken.” Nonetheless, she then spends the next few days upset with Walt that he’s not making more of an effort to be nice to her at work, to have lunch with her, to walk her home from work, since they’re engaged—all the while angry that “he had not said that he loved her,” or even, for that matter, asked her to marry him, just assumed they were engaged. During the five pages she’s acting like they are engaged, she’s telling herself that she has to go out and buy him a hot sandwich when he refuses to eat a cold one because “he was the man she probably would have to look after for the rest of her life,” and that when he is too busy to spend time with her, “she would have to get used to his time not being his own” and that she’s not his top priority.

Then Norman proposes a huge television fund-raiser for Walt’s clinic, hosted by the up-and-coming TV starlet who was driving the car who hit the boy, and Norman’s mother also decides to create a huge philanthropic campaign that will provide huge funds for the clinic. I mean, what? Walt really gets loopy then, grabbing Cynthia by the arms and hurting her, telling her she can’t see Norman anymore, and then driving very erratically when they have an argument in the car. He seems, frankly, like a significantly unhinged individual.

There’s a big crisis in the end that helps Cynthia figure out what to do, but neither man seems like a great choice. Norman, though he seems slightly more rational than Walt, pursues her relentlessly from the first time he sees her, and Walt just seems like a lunatic, which makes Cynthia’s devotion to him and semi-acceptance of his decision that she will marry him seem absurd. The clinic, which serves poor children crippled by polio or cerebral palsy, is barely mentioned, when it seems like it should be an important backbone to the story, since Cynthia makes it clear to everyone that she wants to continue working there for the rest of her career. The many unanswered questions about Norman’s career, the woman driving the hit-and-run car, Roz’s easy acceptance that she’s losing the man of her dreams to her roommate, and even a police officer who seems like he might turn into a potential love interest and doesn’t, just leave me wondering what the hell author Adelaide Humphries was thinking when she wrote this book. It comes off like a one-draft wonder written without any advance planning over a long weekend before the mortgage payment was due—and so I can’t recommend you give it any more consideration than she seems to have done.

Tangled Autumn

By Betty Neels ©1971 

When her romance with Andrew went wrong, Sappha had jumped at the chance of a job in Scotland to make a complete break. The change of background, not to mention the “Demon King,” in the person of the Dutch doctor, Rolf van Duyren, soon began to take her mind off the past—but then Andrew came back.

GRADE: B+

BEST QUOTES:
“I do believe you would feel compelled to offer any burglar foolish enough to enter a cup of tea before you laid him out with a poker.” 

“Don’t bother to think of anything to say—I’m sure it’ll come to you later. You can always write it down and commit it to memory and shoot it at me when next we meet.”

REVIEW
This is the third Betty Neels book I’ve read (I forgot to write the review of the second one, so I’ll have to re-read it before I write its review) and so far her books are proving fairly formulaic: Strong, capable woman meets enormous, dark, masterful Dutch man, travels to Holland and tames him. From what I have read of Betty Neels, I am not the first person to make this observation, but if you are unfamiliar with Betty Neels as I was, it’s news to you. She does pretty well with it in my limited experience—perhaps not surprising, as she is one of the Grandes Dames of romance writing. 

Anyway, here we have Nurse Sappha Devenish, who has left her London hospital after catching her fiancé several times—she’s a trusting gal—in the arms of another nurse, “a lush, blonde beauty.” She’s taken a post in Scotland, caring for a Dutch baroness—I’m suddenly realizing I don’t think we ever learned the patient’s first name—who is recovering from surgery for parathyroid osteodystrophy and also a broken arm and hip after she fell (I guess that’s the “osteodystrophy” part of her disease at work there) during a trip to visit old friends in Scotland.

En route to the house in Scotland where the baroness is recuperating, Sappha runs out of “petrol” and stalls her Mini in the middle of the road. She’s finally saved by “a very tall man with broad shoulders, a dark fierce face, haughty and hawk-nosed above a straight mouth; dark hair brushed back from a wide forehead.” He’s condescending, and she’s insulted, and she tells her patient, “he looked like the Demon King. You never saw such eyebrows.” The door opens, and guess who comes in? Dr. Rolf van Duyren, her patient’s son! Naturally they start off like oil and water, as he is always teasing her, she is always convinced that he is mocking her and so is constantly insulted by every little gesture or burp out of him. Soon she decides, on page 24, to tell him, “Some people don’t get on very well—I think perhaps we are like that.”

Naturally, on page 39, guess who turns up in the village? It’s Andrew! He proceeds to tell Sappha how he misses having her around and wants her back—though he never bothers to tell her he loves her. He takes her out for tea, aided and abetted by Rolf, who runs into the two coincidentally and paves the way for her to have the rest of the day off to spend with Andrew. The pair heads out for a long drive through a terrible rainstorm to see a view obscured by clouds and fog, and he talks about his plans for his bright, lucrative future in a posh city practice while disparaging Rolf’s work (he mistakenly thinks Rolf is “just” a country doctor, when in fact he is an important chief physician in a major teaching hospital back in Holland). Sappha is, much to my relief, left totally cold—even icy when a local woman requires an urgent C-section for a breech birth, and Rolf calls on the pair during their supper at the town inn to ask for their help, and Andrew urges Sappha not to go and refuses to go himself. (Naturally Rolf and Sappha save both woman and baby!)

Andrew leaves a letter for Sappha at the house, and she mails it back to him unopened, realizing suddenly that she is in fact in love with Rolf! And this is just on page 54! Now for 130 pages of a plot I’m not overly fond of—the hero frequently asking her about her boyfriend but she never tells him that she’d dumped him. This makes for a lot of tension and arguing and hostilities that admittedly can make for spicy scenes but just feels so unnecessary. I keep asking myself, Why doesn’t she just tell him the truth?

Rolf is actually kind of hot, attentive and caring—and he washes dishes! Though it is the 1970s, so he buttons her coat and buckles her seatbelt and literally picks her up and gets bossy from time to time, she even “meekly” obeying fairly often but also more often arguing back, which, it is hinted, is part of his attraction to her. “You’ll be the first woman under ninety who hasn’t been bowled over” by his stunning good looks, Sappha is told, and Rolf’s sister tells him, “You’re an old bear, and the trouble is no one ever tells you so or answers you back.” (She then goes on to point out that “Sappha does,” in case we hadn’t noticed.

The writing is pretty good, with occasional gems such as “She swallowed her heart back to where it belonged,” and the scene in which Sappha runs into Andrew and Rolf is particularly cute—she had just popped a large toffee into her mouth and then must manage it and the two young men to humorous effect. The story is smooth but not especially exciting, and the final scene a little confusing—she runs off and he waits about five minutes for no reason that is explained before going after her—but overall it is a decent book worth reading. And so my opinion of Betty Neels neatly aligns with the general consensus: She’s pretty good!a

Nurse Laurie’s Cruise

By Adelaide Humphries, ©1956

A nurse-companion on a Caribbean cruise sounded like fun to Laurie Fielding. But to make sure she got the job, Laurie tried to disguise her blonde loveliness before she went for the interview. The first person Laurie met on the Bianca was Jeff Anderson, so much the picture of the man every girl hopes to meet on a cruise that Laurie was instantly put on guard. As they cruised the exotic tropical islands, Laurie found herself paired off with the young professor writing a book on the West Indies and her beautiful employer with the attractive Jeff—with Laurie becoming more and more attracted to Jeff. A delightful and exciting story of a young nurse in search of adventure—with both danger and love lurking for Laurie in the blue waters of the Caribbean.

GRADE: C+

BEST QUOTES:
“I always thought most nurses looked like majordomos.” 

“Nurses have a way of managing things—and people.”

“Isn’t every young, single woman who saves up enough money for a cruise on the lookout for husband material?”

“Fear flooded over her, and she wanted to turn and run. But her nurse’s training restrained her.”

REVIEW:
Nurse Laurie Fielding meets all the criteria for a nurse position that she sees advertised—except the ad specifically requests that the applicant be “preferably not too attractive.” Of course, Laurie does not fit that bill, with her “natural blonde hair, big blue eyes, creamy skin, and a figure that more often than not draws wolf whistles.” So she wears a hair net and large tortoiseshell glasses to the interview, where young widow Irma Potts, age 36, hires Laurie even though, she says, “I don’t want someone to outshine me!” Irma is a flighty, vapid heiress with no actual illnesses other than a few days of seasickness, so Laurie needn’t worry that she “wouldn’t like spending all her time shut up in a cabin with her patient, when she was longing to enjoy the sea air, the pleasures of the voyage, and the interesting sights.” In short, Laurie is hoping for what she herself calls “a vacation” while getting paid for not doing any work, and that is exactly what she gets! In fact, Irma soon advises Laurie to quit dressing down, so even the “disguise” Laurie wears to get the job is quickly abandoned—yet another dopey plot device that goes nowhere.

On board, Laurie soon meets Jeff Anderson, and “there was something about him—perhaps because he looked so much like the sort of man a girl might dream about meeting on a cruise—that made Laurie dislike him.” She’s not wrong, actually; he’s not a likable man, aggressive, always pushing himself onto her and attempting to control her. She is frequently furious with him, but alas, we know what that means—she won’t have the sense or the ability to resist him much longer.  Soon he’s kissing her on a regular basis. “If Jeff had wanted to kiss her again, she knew he would have, without asking,” and the thought gives her chills—of pleasure, unfortunately, because have I mentioned that Laurie doesn’t have much sense?

Laurie tries to make it her job to protect Irma from wolves and thieves, but it’s not going well. She suspects Jeff of being a crook in part because he refuses to have his photograph taken. “If he was the adventurer she believed him to be, his past might catch up with him,” she decides, but is unable to keep him away from Irma. And then Irma is travelling with an enormous amount of valuable jewelry and wears it all at once, so everyone is aware of it, and then she won’t keep it in the safe. Laurie has concerns about a few other suspicious people besides Jeff, starting with a man named John Harvey who uses crutches to walk and whom Irma constantly calls “pathetic” due to his disability. Laurie regularly catches Mr. Harvey in the hall outside Irma’s room, though his room is on another floor, but immediately decides not to say anything about it, deciding that it “most likely amounted to nothing.”

Eventually Laurie decides that the best thing is for her to keep the jewels in her own room, and guess what? The  next night they’re stolen, and Laurie is a suspect! Now she’s trying to figure out who stole them and making a poor job of it. When she finds Mr. Harvey arguing with a rich older woman passenger, “it was another riddle that Laurie decided she might as well forget.” The next night, after finding Mr. Harvey in the hall again, she finds the empty jewel case back in her room—and promptly tosses it overboard. Then Laurie stumbles across a crewmember who is dying from a gunshot wound. He tells her, “The jewels—she found out I knew where they—” but she mentions this to exactly no one, and the man promptly dies. Laurie has the common sense of a gnat. Eventually she does something really stupid and almost gets herself shot, too, but almost every strong male on the ship shows up at the same time and she is rescued! And discovers she’s in love, too!

This is a perfunctory story whose plot makes no sense. On one hand, Laurie cannot put two and two together and constantly sabotages herself—until she is deciding she alone can capture the criminal, who she selects essentially out of the blue, and nearly gets herself killed by someone whose presence is unexplainable, too. Her—no surprise, this—love interest is portrayed in unflattering terms at every meeting, but after hating him for most of the story, she falls for him hard, and the sudden conversion makes as little sense as pretty much everything else in the book. To cap it all off, we have the consistently insulting descriptions of Mr. Harvey’s handicap, and, on visits to numerous ports of call, all the typical colonialistic, patronizing attitudes about Caribbean citizens and countries. My White Doctor Foundation is making a dual donation following this review, to the UNCF and the Cabrillo College Accessibility Support Center (a favorite cause of disabled and most beloved VNRN author Bill Neubauer). You can avoid the particularly noxious ick factor I had to wade through by just refusing to get on board Nurse Laurie’s Cruise.

Nurse Chadwick’s Sorrow

By Diana Douglas
(pseud. Richard Wilkes-Hunter), ©1967 

Ruth Chadwick would never forgive Dr. Barry Kade for a night of insanity that changed her life. She would never return to Dr. Graham Chadwick, her husband. The only thing that still tied her to these two men was a bond of pain and hatred. And now Tracey Norton was involved. Tracey … pretty, talented, very attractive to a man like Dr. Kade. Unable to stop her, Ruth saw Tracey being caught in her own hidden past—in the frightening truth that lay behind Nurse Chadwick’s sorrow.

GRADE: C

BEST QUOTES:
“Frigid type? No, you’re too pretty.”

“A man could be made to forget anything else when the girl he loved kissed him.”

“By Friday she had almost resolved to forget all about Barry Kade and dedicate herself to a lifetime of nursing.”

REVIEW:
Author Richard Wilkes-Hunter is not an author I enjoy. His books are generally sexist, stupid and dull, usually landing C-minus grades. So here we have a little treat—not the cover, of course, which is pretty lame—RWH has given us a book that is only irritating, without the usual over-the-top sexism! Curiously, Nurse Chadwick of the title is only a peripheral character. The book centers on Tracey Norton, who has just been hired as a scrub nurse at Pasadena General. From her very first surgery, when she meets Dr. Barry Kade’s large gray eyes beneath very black brows and long, curling lashes, she has to force herself to concentrate on the operation rather than the handsome young assistant surgeon.

Ruth Chadwick is the OR charge nurse, “still attractive, though she must be 30 or more,” thank you very much, Richard. She is also a strict disciplinarian who hates Dr. Kade with a burning passion, for some mysterious reason, so there will be a lot of floundering around in the plot until the secret is finally revealed two-thirds of the way through the book. In the interim Tracey has coffee with Barry Kade and then a few very pleasant dates, though she risks the ire of Ruth Chadwick in doing so. That risk is made especially problematic since Ruth has invited Tracey to take a room in her apartment. Improbably, Tracey accepts, and then, in the name of being honest, is fairly consistently rude and insulting to Ruth.

In close quarters, Tracey is able to spot the mysteries in Ruth’s life. Ruth acknowledges she has a 3-year-old son named David who obviously does not live with her. Ruth goes away every weekend to some undisclosed location, and is driven home by a man in sports clothes in an open convertible—and then cries herself to sleep in her bedroom. “A woman with a child to live for had no right to abandon herself to such grief,” thinks Tracey with great wisdom and kindness.

One afternoon, after a very tense surgery, Ruth takes it as a mild criticism when Tracey says she is going to the cafeteria for coffee—Ruth usually asks one of the student nurses to make the coffee but had instead sent the student to do more important chores—and Tracey “stared defiantly” and snaps, “I wish you would take that chip off your shoulder, Ruth. Why don’t you save that charge-nurse jazz for the operating room? Outside working hours it neither becomes you nor impresses me!” This sort of hyper-aggressive, snarky remark is, unfortunately, characteristic of many of Tracey’s comments to Ruth, and peculiarly, Ruth responds like a puppy who has been smacked with a rolled-up newspaper and becomes thoughtful, then sad, whimpering, “Am I as bad as that?” and asking if they can still be friends. I liked Ruth better when she was snapping, “Walters! A towel for Dr. Russell!”

Now, as Tracey’s mean-girl ways inexplicably cause Ruth to open up more, we get numerous hints about Ruth’s past. Barry tells her that he has been “nearly four years saving for something that’s very important to me,” and that Ruth’s dislike of him goes back four years. Calculating Tracey thinks, “Nearly four years ago. That would be before Ruth’s child was born.” Ruth’s husband doesn’t help when he when he waylays Tracey as she is walking home from work, creepily offering her a ride with the friendly comment, “I promise not to attempt your seduction.” Tracey immediately volunteers that Ruth cries at night and that she knows he drives her home on Sundays, but when he tells her fiercely that he loves Ruth and wants to make the marriage work, Tracey answers, “It’s really not any of my business. I neither peep nor listen. Nor do I pry into other people’s lives!” It’s a remarkable, completely obvious lie. So when Graham asks her to break her date with Barry and go spy on Ruth and David at a remote beach, of course she does, though Barry turns out to be insecure and all but stops speaking to her. What Tracey finds naturally causes everything to turn out perfectly for everyone, even for her, the one who deserves it least. If the Big Secret everyone is keeping is actually interesting, it’s just way too complicated to be resolved by Tracey showing up at the beach and yelling at Ruth some more, then sending David for  “cutting-edge” surgery (not used today) that is explained in such excruciating detail you might nod off.

Some male writers can pull off nurse novels. Bill Neubauer and Jean Francis Webb, for example, are respectful, gentle authors who can tell a story with real feeling. Others, however, such as Mr. Wilkes-Hunter (and William Daniel Ross, to name another), clearly view women as objects, and not infrequently demonstrate no understanding for how women act or speak, instead making them bros with perky breasts. This is Tracey Norton in a nutshell, who may be the heroine of this book, but she is no hero—neither admirable, charitable or even likeable. “You have the old girl eating out of your hand,” says a fellow nurse to Tracey, as if dominating Ruth is the only option. It’s not, and if Ruth is happy at the end of the book, I still felt sorry about how badly she’d been treated. So unless you enjoy spending time with mean people like Tracey Norton, you’d do a lot better to look for a book by Bill Neubauer.

The Nurse and the Crystal Ball

By Florence Stuart
(pseud. Florence Stonebraker), ©1969

When Sue Whittier unpacked her suitcase, 3000 miles away from the nurses’ dormitory in Maryland, she found a fortune-teller’s crystal ball under her nylons. It was a friend’s idea of a joke, but Sue—who didn’t believe in such things—wished it could tell her what she was letting herself in for. She had driven to California to be with Dave Harding, the man she had walked out on seven years ago just before their wedding—a dying man now who had written, begging her to come. And she had … Even though seeing David would mean seeing his half-brother, Marv, too—the secret reason Sue had broken the engagement. Still, she was prepared for that. What she wasn’t prepared for was finding another old love of Dave’s at his bedside: Gloria, the blonde he had married on the rebound, the wife who had deserted him two months later and has now returned—with a son she claimed was his. But was it true …? Sue didn’t need a crystal ball to tell her that here was a woman who could not be trusted …

GRADE: C+

BEST QUOTES:
“I am going upstairs to Mr. Harding. If you try to stop me—well, like most nurses, I know a few judo tricks.” 

“In my young years I was never a juvenile delinquent. But it’s never too late to start, even at my ripe old age. So how about us having a little snort?”

“Love and money! She sighed to happily and kept smiling to herself. What more could woman ask for?”

“Just to prove that she was a woman of patience and strong well, Gloria did not box his ears as she longed passionately to do.”

REVIEW:
When you find a book with a title like this, you can’t help but get your hopes up. So much potential for rollicking, campy fun! Florence Stonebraker can certainly deliver the goods, too, but it must be confessed that the quality of her work is erratic. So my optimism was guarded. And this turned out to be warranted. 

Sue Whittier has left her job and driven 3,000 miles to La Jolla because the man she dumped seven years ago has leukemia and is at death’s door. He had written to her, begging her to come care for him in his final weeks, so sure! But things are little complicated. First of all, there is a crystal ball in her suitcase under a stack of nylons. Remember nylons? I hope you don’t. Secondly, the first person she runs into is Dave’s half-brother Marv, who is actually the reason why Sue left Dave—right before her wedding “she went down to the beach with another man. And that other man took her in his arms. And her dream of forever and ever love with Dave was forever blasted.” Upon her return, she and Marv immediately get into a rather strange argument in which Marv tells Sue to leave but will not tell her why, and then finally, as she is stomping off, he tells her, “I have never stopped loving you.”

Next she meets the surprise guest, Dave’s wife Gloria. He had picked her up on the rebound during a wild few months “with a crowd who spent their time drinking, smoking marijuana, driving to Vegas to gamble over weekends, swimming in the nude,” but Gloria didn’t last very long either. Now, learning somehow that Dave is about to kick off and has a large fortune to dispose of, Gloria is back at the family mansion and has somehow installed herself as supreme ruler over Dave’s mother and Dave himself. The trick is that she has a six-year-old boy in tow named Bobby, who she claims is Dave’s son. Gloria and Bobby are quite the pair—Gloria is a vicious, scheming vixen out to sabotage Sue, while Bobby is an angry, uncontrollable wrecking ball. “It is not as if he were retarded or anything like that, sweetie,” Gloria explains. “Actually, Bobby is unusually bright for his age. His only problem is that he is inclined to be a psychopathic liar, and that needn’t bother you.” OK! But everyone else in the house is kind to Bobby, who transforms under their supervision into a friendly, gentle boy. Sue even gives him the crystal ball, and he starts talking about seeing his dead parents in it. Um, what?

Meanwhile, Gloria has hired a doctor to care for Dave, but Sue suspects the man is a quack. He is prescribing no end of medications for Dave, and has even given a prescription to Dave’s mother Martha, who had seemed fairly healthy until she had started taking the pills as ordered, but woke up feeling dizzy, strange, unable to speak clearly or even walk without falling. Sue advises Martha to “hold the prescription pills under her tongue until Gloria left the room.” Why she cannot just refuse to take the medication outright is unclear, but once Martha starts dumping the meds in the toilet she is feeling spry and energetic again. Dave keeps taking his medication, and is getting worse and worse.

Marv, meanwhile, is trying to kiss Sue, usually after a loud argument in which he grabs her arms painfully, but she is fighting him off and running, at least for now. He keeps exerting everyone in the house to “play it cool” with Gloria, but is not sharing his long-term plan with anyone, so soon naturally decides without any evidence whatsoever that Marv is in cahoots with Gloria, plotting to inherit Dave’s money.

Suddenly Dave decides he is going to make a new will and locks himself up with Marv, who happens to be a lawyer, to create the thing. Exactly two nights later Dave “simply fell asleep, after taking the pills which Gloria made a nightly rite of putting into the tiny plastic box—and he did not wake up.” The rest of the book plays out pretty much as you know it will, including one character going stark, raving mad—a Florence Stonebraker specialty.

There are a lot of irritating aspects to this book. One is the constant suggestion that there are deep secrets at work here: For example, on her first day, Marv inexplicably tells Sue “I don’t feel free to tell you” why he wants her to leave immediately, though the reason is obvious the minute she walks through the mansion door. Marv, brooding in his room after an argument with Sue, “could not figure in exactly what way this money-greedy woman could hurt Susan,” when the obvious answer is that she can’t. When Bobby starts seeing his parents in the crystal ball, Martha declares, “there’s more to his story than meets the eye. We haven’t enough sense to understand what it is.” Yet the most egregious mystery—did Gloria kill Dave?—is left completely unanswered. Is it fair play for an author to throw out a bone that huge and then walk away from it? I spent some time thinking this question over and concluded that the answer is usually no, though I might accept it from an author so gifted that it actually worked (see A Series of Unfortnate Events by Lemony Snicket). So in this case, no. Even the eponymous crystal ball has no impact on the story. I will always have a deep fondness in my heart for Florence Stonebraker, so her failure in this book makes me doubly let down. If you would prefer to avoid philosophical quandaries and disappointment, you won’t need a crystal ball to tell you that you should probably avoid this book.

The Midnight Wards

By D.K. Jennings (pseud. John Glasby), ©1967
Cover illustration by Henry Fox

Throughout the world, large hospitals are much the same; exuding an aura of medicinal efficiency, men and women who supervise the lives of their patients, overseeing a hubbub of intense activity that goes on around the clock. At the old and elegant St. Stephen Hospital on the outskirts of London, it had been a fortnight of the usual minor incidents, common in such a complex of wards and isolated departments. To Veronica Devlin, just beginning her hospital work as a nurse, everything seemed much larger than life. The doctors, surgeons and ward sisters were either gods or ogres and her small mistakes were great tragedies. Then the resident surgeon, Ralph Conway, found himself facing a crisis which threatened not only his career but the whole future of the hospital, a crisis which meant he had to challenge the authority of Sir William Carruthers, the senior surgical consultant, and attempt to uproot policies and ideas which were as old and as established as the hospital itself and somehow, Veronica found herself drawn, against her will, into this personal conflict of ideologies.

GRADE: C+

BEST QUOTES:
“Someone ought to pass a law against night duty.”

“You have the makings of a fine nurse, provided you learn to keep your own emotions under tight rein and do only as you are told.”

“It seems that fate has decreed that all of the emergency cases happen between midnight and 6:00 in the morning.”

“That is the main trouble with some of the younger men who come along, wanting to become surgeons. They see themselves in white coats, walking through the wards, adored by the female patients and idolized by the young interns. But it isn’t all like that. After a while, you find that each operation takes a great deal out of you. Not until it’s over do you realize just how much.”

REVIEW:
First off, I have to tell you that this is not a nurse novel. Our nurse, Veronica Devlin, is a peripheral figure, and the story centers on Dr. Ralph Conway, hero young surgeon battling the dinosaur senior doctor who is gradually choking the life out of the prestigious hospital he runs with an iron grip. Frankly, Veronica is robbed of the credit she deserves in curing the patient central to the story, so I wondered if author D.K. Jennings was a man. Guess what—I was right!

In the first chapter a man is struck by a car and brought to the hospital, but he is suffering from amnesia—which came on before the car accident. Naturally, he is not carrying any identification. On duty in the ED are Veronica and Ralph Conway, who further clinches this book’s status as not-a-nurse-novel because he is married! Since Mr. X’s leg is broken in two places, he is likely to be stuck in the hospital for months. “In a way, it is a good thing. It may enable us to do a little detective work and try to find out who he is,” Ralph tells Veronica. 

Another patient, Sylvia Monaghan, has been admitted as a suicide attempt after taking too many sleeping tablets in the middle of the night. Ralph is convinced that she is “not the suicidal type.” But Dr. William Carruthers, the aging medico who runs St. Stephen Hospital, is convinced Sylvia is a danger to herself—not only that, but if she is not transferred to a psychiatric ward and is left on the general ward, “she could prove not only an embarrassment, but possibly a menace to the other patients,” he declares dramatically. But Ralph convinces Dr. Carruthers to leave Sylvia where she is, at least temporarily.

Meanwhile Veronica is put on night duty watching Mr. X. He is mumbling in his sleep, of course, and “she thought she caught the name Clarke repeated several times.” Ralph, going above and beyond the call of duty of a surgeon, checks with the police and finds that a jeweler named Vincent Clarke was beaten during a robbery the same night that Mr. X came in, and though the assailants were masked and Mr. Clarke has no way of identifying them, “one of them could have been our mystery patient here,” says Ralph to Veronica. So she hits the streets and starts knocking on doors, and finds an old woman who saw Mr. X walk out of an alley—and at the other end of the alley is Vincent Clarke’s jewelry shop! Back at the hospital she reluctantly reports her findings to Ralph, though she nonetheless argues that Mr. X could be innocent. Ralph wonders, “Had she fallen in love with that man?” But he does encourage her to “stick with your convictions, Veronica. I for one would not want to change them.” So he is due a little credit.

Then Veronica obtains permission from Ralph to take Mr. X out of the hospital in a wheelchair, though she does not mention her plans to bring Mr. X to the first place he remembers. Though nothing comes back to him, Mr. X directs Veronica to push him down the infamous alley, so they end up in front of Mr. Clarke’s now-boarded-up shop. He suddenly remembers being in the trashed jeweler’s shop and seeing Mr. Clarke lying inert over the counter—and the shock is too much for him and he passes out. Now Ralph is in hot water: “All of this publicity is having a bad effect on the reputation of the hospital. Some of the things he does are little too radical from my way of thinking,” says the hospital matron, though these “radical methods” are not really explained. Ralph is called on the carpet by Dr. Carruthers, and when Ralph defends Veronica, Dr. Carruthers bizarrely threatens not to give Ralph the top hospital job when he retires next year.

Undeterred, Ralph stops by Mr. X’s room, and Mr. X tells Ralph that he has remembered the names John Forrester and Redbourne. Ralph recognizes Redbourne as the name of a small village 30 miles from London, so the next day he and Veronica head there for another illicit detective trip. This book occurs so long ago that their only option is to stop in at a pub and ask if anyone knows John Forrester, and as it happens his parents live across the street! In no time flat Mr. X’s identity and backstory are laid out. “Another shock might prove sufficient to send the mind toppling over the brink of the abyss that led to insanity,” Ralph thinks, so he invites Mr. X’s mum to come back to London with them, goes straight to Mr. X and in five sentences explains all. Fortunately the shock does not prove sufficient to send Mr. X's mind toppling over the brink of the abyss; instead he remembers everything and is reunited with his mum and Veronica, so next Ralph goes to visit Sylvia Monaghan and puts to right all her psychiatric problems. Then he pops by Dr. Carruthers’ office for another enlightening chat and finally goes home to his wife, whom he is seeing for about the third time this whole book. Has anyone ever mentioned that it is really rough being a doctor’s wife? Though Ralph does try to give Veronica a little credit for Mr. X’s recovery, his wife is insistent that it is all due to him, so he smiles and leans back in his chair. I hope he doesn’t hurt himself patting his own back.

Throughout the book we do spend occasional pages with Veronica, following her concerns about Mr. X and watching the pair fall in love, though the uncertainty of his identity and past activities makes their relationship somewhat tenuous—even if we have a pretty good idea how it will turn out. But we don’t see enough of her to make this book worth reading, if it’s a true nurse novel you are looking for. It’s not a bad book in general, but without a strong, independent, female heroine to spend your time with, I’m not sure what the benefit is in reading it. But I am a little biased in that respect. Try it for yourself, if you don’t mind a rather hackneyed plot and a slightly arrogant, self-centered main (male) character, and see what you think.

A Nurse’s Strange Romance

By Arlene Hale, ©1964

Meredith Michaels, R.N., had three loves in her life: nursing, and two young doctors. Dark-haired, intense Ryan Quinn she had loved since they first began training together. Steve Baxter, big, blond, full of the joy of life, had been the perfect balance for the inseparable threesome. Now they had the chance to open private practice together with Meredith as office nurse—and life seemed complete. Meredith, in fact, was engaged to Ryan. But something happened. Ryan became steeped in gloom, and even Steve’s former gaiety seemed forced. Meredith was distraught. But then, in the middle of the crisis, and with the wisdom she never dreamed she possessed, she grasped on a solution that had been staring her in the face.

GRADE: C- 

BEST QUOTES:
“The hospital frowns upon interns and nurses smooching in the hallways.”

“That blush makes you different from any nurse on the floor. You are the only one that seems to respect some old-fashioned chastity!”

“Long may she walk with her cute little wiggle!”

“What a tasty looking neck!” 

“Maybe it’s not as exciting to diagnose old Mrs. Cleaver’s arthritis as it is to make smears for some important test in a research lab but it is important! At least to Mrs. Cleaver.”

REVIEW:
The author of this very stupid book, Arlene Hale, is something of a thorn in my side. She was ridiculously prolific—I’ve reviewed 27 of her VNRNs so far and she has written at least a dozen more—but her average grade over those 27 books is a pathetic C+. Here we have yet another snoozer—well, it might be a snoozer if the leading man weren’t such an ass, but as it was it just made me mad. Meet Ryan Quinn, a “deep, dark, secretive” driven type who, though the author tries incredibly hard to depict him as a misunderstood soul, is borderline psychotic. As we open the book, Ryan and his best friend Steve Baxter are four months from completing their residencies, at which point they will go into practice and start earning an actual salary. But “payment is being demanded,” Ryan tells Meredith. “I will have to quit and go out and find a job, pay them off.” I am not even going to start on how absurd this situation is, but it’s definitely indicative of how the rest of the book is going to go.

To wit: Nurse Meredith Michaels, who has been dating Ryan Quinn for years now and is all but holding her breath until he drops on one knee and opens the tiny velvet box, has magically inherited a tidy sum from a deceased aunt. Her first inclination is to quit her nursing job and go back to school to become a teacher. Is this her long-denied dream finally coming true? No! Meredith loves nursing! But Steve and Ryan have bizarrely been badgering her to trade her nurse’s cap for blackboard chalk. “You are a pure descendent of Florence Nightingale, no doubt. But they need teachers too. Desperately,” Steve tells her, because nurses are just a dime a dozen! (And the financing of her nurse’s degree remains a secret.)

Ryan’s misfortune turns out to be Meredith’s salvation, as now she can give her money to Ryan and remain in the career she loves best! Ryan, the selfless wonder, hesitates less than ten seconds before accepting. Then he has the balls to tell her that he is “too honorable to make plans to be married until every penny had been paid on his debts,” and furthermore he is accepting a research position that pays very little, so it’s likely to be years before that happens. Of course, if he married Meredith, his debt would be expunged, but that point is overlooked by everyone, even Meredith.

Alas, this is not the end of Ryan Quinn’s perfidy. He leaves for a new job far from Meredith and does not ask her to come work at his new hospital with him, so she remains at City Hospital with Steve, who takes every opportunity to kiss her and make wildly inappropriate remarks to his best friend’s girlfriend. For Ryan’s part, immediately upon arriving at his new hospital, he instantly falls in love with Dr. Carol Simmons and dates her for months, taking her out to restaurants he cannot afford (when he had been too poor to go anywhere with Meredith except to her house, where he had eaten dinners she had cooked for him, and presumably paid for as well). Naturally Ryan does not bother to tell either woman about the other, and it’s nearly Christmas before he fesses up to Carol. He has the nerve to be flabbergasted when she is jealous, but placates her by promising to spend Christmas with her, even though he has already promised the day to Meredith. Then the swell guy is unable to tell Meredith that he won’t be coming home after all—much less that he doesn’t love her and is seeing someone else—until the day before Christmas, when he calls her and lies to her about a patient who he claims needs his attention through the holidays.

As it turns out there is such a patient, Betty Walters, a lonely, pathetic waif with leukemia, and now Ryan drags this poor woman into his miserable clutches as well. He starts to pay “special attention” to her: “At odd moments, he would drop in to see her and say a few words to her, tease her gently and lay the foundation for a relationship that went beyond the normal one of patient and doctor.” Betty, who has only months to live, falls in love with Ryan, and her bullying, equally psychotic brother Bruce blackmails Ryan into marrying Betty: If he refuses, Bruce is going to assault Carol, and if Ryan goes to the police about it, Bruce will have one of his friends do it. Paralyzed with fear, Ryan lets the situation ride for weeks. Eventually Carol hears hospital gossip that Ryan is spending too much time with Betty.  When she confronts him, he insults her: “You’re being female. Jealous! It doesn’t become you.” Just wow. At least Carol has the sense to break up with Ryan—Meredith is still home waiting by the phone.

Steve, clearly pining for Meredith, decides to open a clinic and invites Ryan and Meredith to join him. Bizarrely, Ryan agrees—and when he moves back home, he kisses dopey Meredith, and she’s thinking, “He hadn’t said he loved her. He hadn’t asked her to marry him either. But it was all there in undertones and she could wait. She had already waited this long.” And she is going to wait a lot longer. Because he’s sneaking back to see Carol to tell her what he never told Meredith, that he loves her. Then he heads over to see Betty, kisses her, too, and asks her to wait a little longer to be married to him, thinking, “He did not really want Betty to die and yet her death would mean his own freedom.” I can’t believe author Arlene Hale thinks this guy is a reasonable love interest. 

Ryan flees back to his hotel room, but Bruce follows him and beats him to a pulp. This finally convinces him that Bruce really means business, so Ryan—this guy just never stops—calls Meredith, tells her he’s been in a car accident and asks her to wire him $500, which he then uses to pay for the wedding, which goes off the next day. The cake is not even crumbs before he has fled back home, where he goes straight to Meredith’s apartment and tells her he loves her and wants to marry her! When she says, “I am not sure I believe you anymore, Ryan,” for the first time showing some actual sense, he says “Darling, you must! You have always trusted me, always believed in me. Don’t stop now. Don’t you know I need you, that I’ve always needed you? Don’t doubt me now. I couldn’t endure it! We’ll be married whenever you say.” To which she replies, “Darling, let’s be married on my birthday. Next week!” And now he is back to hoping that Betty dies in the next few days so he won’t become a bigamist. So to atone for the huge mess he’s in, he goes straight to Carol’s house where he kisses her—and then tells her he is being married to Meredith.

Meredith breaks the news to Steve the next day, and now Steve is going to pieces. “His idea was to take the bull by the tail and spin him until he crashed into the wall and broke it down, or a woman by the hair and—” and now he is racing to Meredith’s apartment, bursts in, grabs her and kisses her though she beats at him and protests, “but he would not let her go,” instead telling her that he loves her, too. Guess what—she suddenly realizes that it’s Steve she is in love with.

Honestly, I just can’t go on. Let me just say that Meredith Michaels is a pathetic sap, Ryan Quinn is a self-absorbed psychotic, and Steve is a self-absorbed, domineering bully. Don’t waste your time with this trio. You might take them as an object lesson not to waste your time on any more Arlene Hale books, either, and I wouldn’t fault you in the slightest.

Nurse Madeline of Eden Grove

By Marjorie Norrell, ©1965

When her old friend Miss Emily Eden left Staff Nurse Madeline her large house, Madeline decided to turn it into a much-needed nursing home. It meant, among other things, that she would be able to see a lot more of the attractive surgeon Michael Foyle—but would it make him any more interested in her?

GRADE: B

BEST QUOTES:
“People find their happiness in the most unexpected places.” 

REVIEW:
Madeline Frazer is a very nice young nurse who works in a small British hospital. I’m not a person who flings the word nice around with abandon, but I have to admit that Nurse Madeline is nice: polite, kind, pleasing, agreeable and respectable, as Merriam and Webster suggest the word should connote. But that, unfortunately, is about all she is. She is not witty or spunky or tenacious or quirky or interesting. And neither is her book. 

Madeline frequently visits wealthy 83-year-old Emily Eden, who lives in the stately eponymous manor house, because the old lady was also a victim in the train crash that killed her parents though Madeline survived, and the lady bizarrely took Madeline in after that. Now Madeline visits weekly on her days off, if the young swain who has captured her eye, up-and-coming plastic surgeon Dr. Michael Foyle, has other plans. But Michael is not a lover who is going to last long, as we soon know this even if Madeline isn’t, because he is one of those young doctors who has “an aura of ruthlessness” and “whose main ambition is to have an outsize bank balance.”

We take a while to get around to Miss Emily’s sad demise, and learn that she has left the house to Madeline—and perfect timing, too, because a group of doctors including Dr. Foyle is trying to open a nursing home but lack a suitable building—and Eden Grove is perfect!

Madeline feels obliged to reach out to Richard Eden, Miss Emily’s only living relative, a nephew who is mildly successful writer—but Miss Emily has unfairly refused to admit him into her presence, much less her affection, because she disapproved of his mother (for no good reason, of course). In the course of discussing Miss Emily’s estate, Madeline and Richard Eden have several telephone conversations, during which he assures her that he is quite happy for her to have the house. He sends her a copy of his latest book, written under the name Richard Prentiss (his mother’s maiden name), so she starts dreaming a little about this mystery man.

Then she meets with Richard Grey, a man at the attorney’s office, to discuss the bequest, and tells him with passionate fervor about her hopes for the nursing home, and the attorneys arrange the lease of the house for her—but she keeps thinking of Richard Grey, and soon he’s ringing her up and asking her out. But isn’t it funny how much Richard Grey and Richard Eden sound alike, and how they share the same first name!

She spends a week’s vacation with Richard Grey—Richard Eden is away assisting with the filming of one of his books—and soon finds that thoughts of him are driving any lingering regrets about Michael Foyle away, even if that fickle lad, now finding Madeline less interested, doubles down on his pursuit of her, much to the chagrin of snippy Dr. Irene Stapleton! But Richard Grey also has to leave town for weeks or months on end for reasons he never explains—Madeline assumes it’s confidential business for the law firm. He also refrains from mentioning his undying love for her, leaving her feeling a bit uncertain—though we savvy VNRN readers have no doubts, do we, folks?

The usual tempest in a teapot occurs—Michael kisses Madeline, wouldn’t you know it, just as Dr. Irene is walking into the room, and when Richard Grey shows up the next day to tell Madeline a Big Secret, will this not-what-it-seemed kiss, or Richard’s mystery, destroy Madeline’s happiness forever?

This book is perfectly pleasant. There are a few quietly enjoyable moments, such as the relationship between Madeline and Margaret Barret, the new Matron of Eden Grove Nursing Home, and I really cannot find much fault with the book, but it just does not rise above nice. Whether that’s a good thing or a bad, I leave for you to decide.

Beauty Doctor’s Nurse

By W.E.D. Ross, ©1971
Cover illustration by Allan Kass

Lovely blonde nurse Irene Hunt considered herself lucky to be working in such a fascinating field as plastic surgery. And her growing romance with handsome, readheaded Dr. Max Marshall promised a happy future. Then came the anonymous letter about Max that changed everything—that made her determined to put him out of her mind, to close the door on the past. But transferring to another hospital became more involved than she had anticipated. And even her friendship with the brilliant young plastic surgeon, Dr. Ralph Grant, became more than just a friendship. As Irene found herself drawing closer and closer to Ralph, Max made an unexpected reappearance, eager to resume the romance she thought was over. Could Irene trust her heart to lead her to true love …?

GRADE: C-

BEST QUOTES:
“Many people are responsible for their ravaged faces in the first place. It’s not age alone that destroys their appearance. Leonardo da Vinci said centuries ago that when a man is past forty years of age, he is responsible for the head he has. And I can vouch for its truth. I can almost tag them when they come into the office Sometimes I feel like calling them Mr. Greed or Mr. Lust or Miss Avarice. It’s written that plainly in their faces.” 

“That’s the attraction of buffets. They give you a chance to be a glutton in style.”

REVIEW:
Irene Hall works at Manhattan General with two great plastic surgeons, Dr. Cabell Grant and his nephew, Ralph. Irene had been dating Ralph, but it had turned out that he had also been “seeing socially a few times between operations” one of his patients who has having a series of operations done to remove a birthmark on her face, “a young woman patient, attractive but definitely neurotic” who had “taken his attention as a sign of love” and, when Ralph told her he did not love her, had attempted suicide, leaving a note with “hysterical, pathetic references to her love for Ralph Grant, and directly accused him of leading her on.” The ensuing scandal had led Dr. Grant to “surprise everyone by turning vindictively on his nephew and accuse him of breach of professional etiquette.” Summarily fired, Ralph had moved to Connecticut to rebuild his career under an aging plastic surgery expert, Dr. Franz Lederer, now 80 and too arthritic to perform advanced surgeries. The feeling at the hospital, we are told, is that Dr. Grant had been “much too harsh and quite unfair” to Ralph. Irene shares this opinion, though she has a personal stake in the matter because “she’d gone out with him several times.” 

After Ralph had left, she’d started dating Dr. Max Marshall, and “it was taken for granted around the hospital that she and Max were going together” though they were not engaged. But her roommate didn’t like Max and thought he was “glib,” and Irene decides “there had been lots of small warnings,” though we’re not given any real examples other than that he was too poor to take her out—“he was supporting a semi-invalid father and trying to set up a practice”—and so came to her house for dinner a lot, so “she hadn’t expected him to spend much money on her. And he hadn’t!” That bastard!

She gets an anonymous letter in the mail—who had sent it we never learn—that informs her that Max had also been dating another nurse at the hospital. So she quits her job and takes a position with Ralph Grant—and then has a conversation with Max, telling him that it’s over between them, not exactly demonstrating much faith in Max if she trusts an anonymous letter to such a degree that she’ll turn her entire life upside down over it.

In numerous scenes, Max apologizes again and again, acknowledges his mistake, ends it with the other nurse, and tells Irene that he loves her. But cold-hearted Irene is completely unable to forgive the apparent fact that Max as exposed her to “gossip and snickers” in the hospital, and off she goes to Connecticut. It seems to me that Max had a lucky escape.

On her first day at Ralph’s hospital, she meets a nurse who is in love with Ralph and whom he has been dating. She declares to Nurse Blanche that “she’d only known Ralph in the most casual way and so couldn’t possible see herself as a rival for his affections.” Then she sees Ralph, and he tells her that he’s in love with her and “was on the point of asking you to marry me” before he’d been driven from New York. Irene replies that if she had known this, she wouldn’t have taken the job—but on the next page, he asks, “Do you think we could pick up where we left off?” And she literally replies, “Why not?” and their subsequent kiss “spoke eloquently of their mutual need,” and now they are “making vague plans for the added happiness that lay ahead.” I’m really struggling to find much honor in Nurse Irene Hunt.

The main crisis of the book arrives in the form of a poor, shifty couple who want a scar from a car crash removed from the woman’s face. They had seen Dr. Grant in Manhattan, who had not done the operation for unclear reasons, and now they want Ralph to do the job. He feels, though, that the couple is hiding something—intuitive Irene just thinks “it’s mostly because they’ve been through a good deal, and this operations means a great deal to them”—but Ralph, after discussing the case with Dr. Grant, agrees to do the surgery, and the woman dies on the table from a severe allergy to the anesthetic. Now the question is, who is to blame? Did the couple deliberately withhold the information of the allergy? Had Dr. Grant known and not told Ralph? Had Ralph been aware and gone ahead anyway?

The reveal at the end, I must say, is unsatisfying. The not-surprising fact that the couple knew and didn’t tell is acknowledged, but one of the two Drs. Grant is also in on the secret, and has their own personal and parenthetical misdoings to add to the mix. The problem with this book—actually, as per most books by Mr. Ross, there are a few—is that the massively incorrect moral assumption in the foundational scenario of Ralph and Max’s respective “guilt” for their social crimes. Ralph has indeed, as Dr. Grant states, committed a severe ethics breach in dating a patient he was actively treating, truly shocking to my eye and one that should absolutely result in dismissal from his job if not his profession, and why Irene and apparently the rest of the staff sees this as inconsequential is unfathomable. Furthermore, it is clear that Ralph was dating Irene and his unfortunate patient/victim at the same time, yet Irene waltzes lightly into Ralph’s arms and an engagement on her first day in Connecticut.

Max, meanwhile, seems to be guilty mostly of being too poor to take Irene to restaurants and of seeing a wealthy nurse—Irene makes much of the idea that Max  must be planning to marry her for her money and social connections, though he never says that’s the case and clearly prefers Irene; he is the first male character I know who cries when she dumps him. Dating or kissing multiple women, even when engaged, is an activity that men often engage in completely without comment in many VNRNs, so it’s unclear to me, when Max is openly sorry and repentant for an apparently minor crime, is he given the cruel boot without even a hearing? And frankly, I liked Max more than Ralph. Worse, Irene is a completely flat character. She demonstrates little charisma, personality, wit or intelligence—she can’t even see the truth of the unfortunate couple—so part from her (of course) pretty face, she ahs nothing to offer her boyfriends or, more importantly, the reader.  So this is one of the dreaded C-grade novels—not great but not so laughingly bad to be entertaining in a different way. This story would need a substantial makeover from an editor’s sharp scalpel to make it at all worth looking at, so I suggest you just enjoy the Alan Kass cover illustration and move on to something with more character.