The Perfect Matron

by Dave Hicks

 

Chapter 5

 

1

 

Going to church with Katherine and Beth hadn’t turned out as badly as I’d expected, although it was not without its problems for me. Although it was obvious that Beth was a slave - by the mark on her forehead - no one seemed to notice much. They didn’t go our of their way to talk to her either.

"That bloody idiot tried to chat me up," I whispered to Katherine, during the service. "He though he could get me to go to bed with him. What a slime bag. I’ve seen more capable men laid out in morgues. "

"Who?" she smiled.

"That arsehole who used to ignore me all the time," I answered, pointing to a male seated a few rows in front of us.

"What did you say to him?" she asked.

"I told him," I related, "if he came within a kilometer of me again - I'd personally remove his tiny penis and attach it permanently to the middle of his forehead."

She stifled a laugh, causing a few of the worshipers to turn curiously in our direction.

After the service, Claire the priestess talked to us.

"You certainly look different, David," she remarked diplomatically. "We’d heard you’d both had been before the Synod. I’d hoped it was nothing serious."

I didn’t respond.

"Nothing serious," smiled Katherine sweetly, giving nothing away. "Everything’s been nicely resolved. I’m quite satisfied with the way things have worked out."

"Fine," responded Claire, with a stiff smile.

There was an awkward silence for a few moments.

"How’s the Settlement going?" asked Katherine.

"Wonderful," Claire smiled. "Francis is organizing all sorts of things. There’s a new building begin started for meetings. And the school expanding. It’s all thanks to you."

She paused.

"Both of you must visit soon," she reminded us. "Remember, you’re still the patrons, even though things are different for you now. I know Francis is dying to show you what she has planned for the future."

"We will," Katherine promised.

On the way home, Katherine asked me how I thought the service went.

"Wonderful," I replied, imitating Claire’s voice sarcastically. "I bet we’re all just dying to know what happened to you both before the Synod. Especially, now that David looks like a video star. You simply must tell me the brand of makeup you’re using, David."

Katherine looked at me.

"You’re turning into a cynical bitch," she said, with a grin.

"What do you expect?" I asked. "Was too much trouble to just come out and say what she really wanted to know?"

She sighed, shaking her head.

"I think you’ve still got a little to learn about being a woman," she remarked.

"What’s there to learn?" I asked jokingly. "Leave the toilet seat down, don’t scratch your crotch in public and keep your knees together - at all times. It can’t be that difficult being a woman. Most people on the planet manage to do it."

"I give up," she laughed.

 

2

 

Two days later, the five person government inspection team arrived, headed by a dumpy, hard faced elderly woman named Magda. They were meet by the Director, with the most impressive bosom ever seen, a matron who liked like she just fallen off a fashion model’s catwalk and a surly, teenage, legless administrator. We assembled in the hospital boardroom.

Dressed in a crisply pressed, pink uniform, apron and hat, Yvonne served refreshments to the guests. She’d thoughtfully placed bowls of freshly cut flowers on the long, polished, wooden table. A couple of the visitors were a little disconcerted by the sporadic ripples of color that migrated across the exposed parts of Yvonne’s body.

Once we were all seated, Magda described to Katherine, Grace and myself, what form the inspection would take.

"To receive full certification as a hospital," Magda said, "this establishment must demonstrate, to the satisfaction of the inspection team, the qualifications of the principle staff and an ability to provide basic health and hygiene to predefined standards set by the Hospitals Authority."

I passed over the table, a set of copies of Katherine’s and my qualifications. The only male of the group - who couldn’t take his eyes of me - sitting next to Magda, picked the paper up and quickly scanned them. He then nodded his approval to her.

"Fine," she said, a little less officiously than before. "That part seems to be in order."

Katherine shot me a curious glance. I smiled conspiratorially at her.

"I would now suggest," Magda continued, "that we break into groups and inspect the facilities. I will inspect the records and accounting system. Joanne will accompany the Matron."

I could see the male was sadly disappointed.

"The others," Magda informed us, "Peter, Carol and Robin will inspect the areas of food preparation, theater and pathology."

We rose from the table and went our separate ways.

 

3

 

Joanne and I toured the wards and associated areas. Yvonne, now effectively the hospital’s Housekeeper, had the whole place spotless and since it was a brand new hospital, there was nothing wrong with anything. When we returned to the board room, Beth and Yvonne had a sumptuous lunch ready.

"It’s quite amazing, Director," Pete remarked to Katherine; a piece of half chewed fresh fish still in his mouth. "I’ve never seen a lab like it."

"It was marvelous," added Carol. "I drooled the whole time we were there."

"We don’t have facilities, that even approach anything like you have, at our government lab," commented Robin glumly.

"What sort of work will you be doing here?" Magda asked Katherine. "Just for the records."

Katherine thought for a moment.

"Apart from general private hospital care," she announced. "I intend to perform pathology work for various other institutions. I have a staff and the best equipment. It’s early days yet."

"I understand," Magda nodded.

"How did you manage to get hold of the latest tracking magnetic resonance analyzer?" asked Robin. "We can’t even get an old one."

Katherine seemed to be handling things just fine.

"How did it go?" I whispered to Grace. "You didn’t upset the silly old cow, did you?"

"I was a nice as can be," she whispered back, with a cheeky smile. "If I’d been any nicer, I would’ve puked all over her."

"Mm," I said doubtfully,

"I know more about a hospital computer record system than she does," she said. "Anyway, we haven’t had any patients yet. Slaves don’t count - they aren’t real people. She has a granddaughter waiting for a new leg from an organ bank, so she could really sympathize how it felt being a cripple."

I could she was controlling her rage well and I was proud of her.

"I can’t fault you wards," Joanne remarked to me, with a smile. "There wonderful. Your ability to provide health care is absolutely excellent. It must be wonderful to have such wards to work in. It makes me long to return to real nursing - instead of pushing a pen behind a desk. If you ever need a good nurse, let me know."

"Thank you," I smiled to her graciously. "However, I'm sure you all do very important work."

"That’s very kind of you, Matron," she beamed with pride. "Most hospitals see us at best, as an unnecessary inconvenience."

"We must have controls in the nursing profession," I remarked. "Otherwise, some places would try to get away with murder - if they could. You’re the people who maintain proper standards."

"Absolutely," concurred Carol, tucking into more food. "You’ve be amazed at some of the things we’ve seen."

"It’s a wonderful place for a hospital," Magda remarked to Katherine. "It’s all so natural and scenic."

"Yes," agreed Katherine. "We’re lucking to have such a place to build."

"The land must be worth a fortune," Magda observed.

"It’s in trust as a nature reserve," Katherine informed her. "So good for our patient’s recovery."

"Oh yes," Magda nodded wisely, heading back to the food table.

 

4

 

After the inspection team had left, I called a meeting with the troops in the boardroom.

"I want you all to know how very proud I am of you all," I smiled.

"I wanted to kill the fat bitch," Grace remarked. "If she wants a spare leg for her shit of a granddaughter - let her give her own."

"You showed great restraint," smiled Katherine. "In fact - I think you all did very well indeed."

I addressed Beth and Yvonne.

"Both you ladies did a marvelous job," I congratulated them. "The place was spotless and the food was superb. We may have to think about opening a restaurant, after today."

"Thank you, Matron," Beth beamed in pride.

"And let’s not forget Angela," Katherine said. "I’m still not sure how you managed to landscape the entrance to the hospital, at such a short notice. It looks lovely. And all the equipment functioned exactly the way it was supposed to. I never worked in a hospital where that’s happened before. That has to be a first."

Angela blushed and cast her eyes downwards.

"We did okay, didn’t we," remarked Grace, with pride.

"Yes you did," smiled Katherine. "All of you. I’ll make sure you all get to see the government report, when I arrives."

Katherine turned to me, to see if there was anything I wanted to add.

"I’d like to reward you all," I announced. "If you can think of something you’d like and I can grant it - I'd like you to tell me."

"I want to orgasm when I masturbate," Grace called out.

"Grace!" cried Beth, a little shocked.

"What?" replied Grace innocently.

"Can’t you have one?" Katherine asked Grace.

"No," Grace replied. "It won’t work properly. They screwed that up when they butchered me."

"We’ll definitely fix it," Katherine stated. "Won’t we Matron?"

I nodded and smiled.

"Maybe she won’t be as grumpy then," I remarked.

Grace stuck her tongue out at me.

I noticed they were all calling me Matron now. I sensed a subtle change was taking place. They were looking towards Katherine more as their leader - the Director. I was becoming one of the staff - the Matron. In some ways, the situation suited me. They’d almost forgotten; I owned and controlled them. Perhaps that was a good thing.

"What about the rest of you?" I asked, looking around the table.

"I’d like a workshop," said Angela. "With a lathe and a milling machine. And a tractor. If that’s not too much to ask for. "

"And a trolley to keep the meals warm," added Yvonne. "It’s a long way from the kitchen to the wards."

"I’m sure we’ll easily get those things for you," smiled Katherine.

"Nothing else?" I asked them. "Nothing for you of a more personal nature?"

They shook their heads.

"What about you?" Katherine asked, turning to Beth.

"This will sound so silly," replied Beth, with a hint of embarrassment. "I'd like my breasts to be lactating again but not like when I was a slave. And I really don’t want them as big as before. Would that be too much trouble, do you think?"

"No trouble at all," smiled Katherine. "And we don’t think it’s silly, either. I’ve got milk in my breasts."

"Have you?" Beth asked, a little surprised at Katherine’s revelation.

"Sure," Katherine nodded.

The meeting ended happily.

"I had a quick look at my qualifications," Katherine said to me later - out of hearing of the others.

"Do you like them?" I asked, with a smile. "I can get you more - if you want them. How about a degree in mechanical engineering. They’re going quite cheap this year."

"I think the ones I have should be sufficient, for the time being," she grinned. "I might even try to find out where my old university’s located - when I get around to it. I might meet someone who actually went there. It does exist, doesn’t it?"

"Somewhere, I image," I laughed.

 

5

 

Next day, I took Grace with me to the city, to buy Paula. Paula was twenty years of age - only a few years older than Grace.

Upon our arrival in the city, we entered the elevator to go to the floor where the slave agency was located. A male followed us. After the doors had closed and the elevator was in motion, he roughly grabbed one of my breasts. Grace witnessed as I calmly removed his hand from my breasts and with my hand, crushed every bone in it. After an initial scream, he collapsed to the floor from the pain. When the elevator arrived where we wanted and the doors parted, I stepped unconcernedly over his lying form and entered the floor.

"Wow," said Grace, in admiration, trotting to catch me up. "How did you do that?"

"Do what?" I asked, with a sly smile.

"You were great," she grinned. "I could hear all the bones in his hand cracking."

I turned to her.

"You’ve got a bloody thirsty nature, Grace," I said to her.

"You be I have," she answered proudly.

 

6

 

On the return trip - and in noisy and animated detail - Grace explained to Paula, what was going to happen to her. By the time we’d arrived home, Paula announced she was going to be a nurse.

"What do you want to be a nurse for?" asked Grace.

Paula pointed to me.

"If I could look like that," she remarked admiringly, "I’d count droppings in a shit factory."

"Wouldn’t you rather help kill dealers?" asked Grace. "It beats the hell out of washing bed pans."

"Maybe I’ll get to do both," Paula smiled quietly, turning to me for confirmation.

"But you’ll never get to look like her," Grace remarked, referring to me, with a lighthearted sneer. "No one does. There’s no room in the world for two of anything like that."

The conversation drifted to the latest male media idols. They appeared to be getting on well. Now Grace had the company of someone her own age. Heaven help us.

The much larger tissue growth tanks I'd ordered had arrived at the depot. They would supplement the ones we already had, in the lab. After collecting the tank from town, I installed them. Katherine initiated growing of Paula’s arms immediately, trusting me to supervise their development. I noted; Grace’s new legs would be ready for attachment in a few days.

 

7

 

Out of curiosity, I decided to find out what crimes my slaves had committed, to cause them to be convicted and sentenced to slavery. All reference to any slave’s previous identity is permanently removed from the public record. But, as their owner, I was able to use the numbers tattooed on their forearms to obtain transcripts of the court records. It made interesting and disturbing reading.

Katherine had been charged with medical malpractice, involving her foster mother. The details of what Katherine had done to her foster mother had been suppressed by the judge. I imagined it must’ve been pretty ghastly, for a judge to do that.

Beth had poisoned her husband for infidelity. Karalan women take fidelity very seriously. He’s been a real bastard and she’d simply had enough of his abuse, over the years. It was ironic in a way. She’s now the cook.

Grace had knifed someone in a bar brawl. No surprises there. It sounded like something I'd expect her to do.

Angela had been responsible for maintaining a signaling system that malfunctioned and caused a transport accident, resulting in the deaths of thirty odd people. She’d been convicted of criminal negligence. Looking through the transcript, I couldn’t help think they were looking for a scapegoat and Angela was it.

Yvonne had been apprehended by the customs department, smuggling illegal drugs into the country. She was only a courier but they’d made an example of her.

Paula had taken the life of her newly born baby. Her lawyers claim; she was suffering from depression as a result of childbirth. Unfortunately, that hadn’t been accepted by the court. I felt she would never have been convicted, if she’d had a better lawyer.

I didn’t know if any of my slaves had children or parents still alive. Perhaps I could contact their children - if they had any - to let them know their mother was okay. Then I realized how difficult that would be. My slaves’ identities erased from all public records. Finding their surviving relatives would be a very difficult task. I would think about it - there might be a way.

 

8

 

That afternoon, Claire and Francis from the church, arrived without warning. They were surprised to find a whole community had come into existence, since their last visit. I avoided talking with them too long with them by claiming urgent work to do. Katherine took them on a tour of the hospital but not including the lab. After the tour was completed, the three women sat for a while in the shaded courtyard, overlooking the lake between the two wards. Later, when Claire and Francis had left, I joined Katherine in the staff tea room.

"What was that about?" I asked Katherine, making myself a cup of coffee.

"Do you want the official or real reason?" she laughed.

"Give me both," I smiled, kissing her on the cheek. "I'm into gossip - at the moment."

She shifted her massive, heavy bosom to a more comfortable position, as it rested on the table, in an attempt to relieve the burden on her shoulders and back.

"They came to pay us a strictly friendly, social visit," she laughed sarcastically. "Just being good neighbors and all that."

"Don’t they ever just come out and just say what they want?" I asked, with a hint of irritation, sitting opposite her. "I’ve got a collection of the most dangerous convicted criminals on the planet and they’re much more honest than that pair of pious hypocrites."

"Try not to get upset, my love," Katherine said softly, reaching across the table to gently hold my hand. "As long as we know what they’re up to, their little plans are doomed to failure."

"So what are they up to?"

"You’re appearance in church caused quite a sensation," she grinned.

"Just because I threaten to cut someone’s penis off?" I asked.

"No," she smiled, shaking her head. "Half the parishioners would probable offer to help you do that."

"Then what, sweetheart?"

She smiled at me.

"It's the incredible way you look now," she explained.

I thought for a moment.

"So what’s that got to do with them?" I asked.

"My sweet woman," she said. "Let me explain things to you."

"Please do," I nodded. "I'm just a simple matron of a small country hospital. I’m don’t understand the religious aspects of certain things. Like being a bitch - for starters."

She made a fresh cup of coffee for herself and seated herself again.

"As you know," she recounted, "for numerous reasons, Karalan woman aren’t the most desirable women on Earth. As far as most sane, single men are concerned, Karalan women are less alluring than a rabid dog when I comes to marriage partners."

"I knew that," I laughed. "I really did know that."

"Then they see what’s happened to you," she continued. "They want to know how it got done."

"Okay," I said. "I follow you so far."

"Imagine the surprise and delight - in their tiny minds - when they discover; we’ve got a whole hospital just waiting to make every Karalan women stunningly beautiful, just like you. Imagine how tempting it must be for them. But of course, it’s a sin for Karalan woman to have any form of cosmetic surgery - isn’t it?"

She paused to let it sink in.

"By the time I'd finished showing them the place," she laughed. "They’d all but booked a bed each for themselves with Grace. They didn’t actually say anything but it was pretty obvious what they were thinking. The saliva dribbling down their chins was a bit of a clue."

"So what did you tell them?" I asked.

"Nothing," she smiled. "I just let their devious minds run overtime - trying to think of some way they could persuade me to make them all as gorgeous as you."

"Could you?" I asked.

"I doubt that very much," she smiled. "You’re a freak. I don’t mean that in any nasty way. It’s your crazy genetic makeup that made you look the way you do. My skill as a surgeon had very little to do with it. Mostly, I just let your genes have their own way. They did the rest."

"I’m a freak," I laughed.

"By the way," Katherine mentioned. "Our two friends from the church, expressed a desire to bring any sick person from the Mother’s Home here - in preference to the local hospital."

"What did you tell them?"

"I said I'd think it over and get back to them," she replied. "I wanted to check with you first."

"You’re the Director," I smiled. "You decide."

"Will it be a problem?"

"You’ll have to ask the Director about that," I grinned. "But, as the head of nursing - I don’t have a problem with it. Provided we’ve got the staff and you’re not overworking yourself."

"Thank you," she smiled.

 

9

 

Some interesting changes had taken place in me, as the result of my transformation into a woman. For one, I was physically stronger and could move much faster than before.

It wasn’t something that had become apparent immediately. I found lifting Paula - to wash her or make her bed - was effortless, even though she’s not a small woman. I’d always keep up my martial arts but now I found I could complete a set sequence of exercises in a much shorter period, than ever before. I managed to put my fist through the punch bag I’d hung from a tree near the house. I mentioned my discoveries to Katherine. We went to the lab and she did a series of tests on me.

"How’d I go?" I asked her.

"The results are quite remarkable," she replied, a little bewildered. "You’re always full of surprises."

"Tell me," I smiled.

"You’re basic reaction times are way down," she explained. "Times that would normally be impossible for anyone else. I'd gauge your physical strength at least twice what I'd expect for someone you size and body shape - maybe more."

"That’s good," I said.

"I think it is," she agreed. "My initial concern was; your metabolism may have accelerated. That may cause you to age faster than most people but it’s not the case. I can’t be sure yet - but if anything, you could even be aging slower than normal people. It’s so odd. You’re nervous system seems different in some way - it works faster. There are other subtle differences too. You heal faster now."

She took my forearm and examined it.

"That’s where I injected a trace dye into you an hour ago," she recounted. "It’s healed. I can see no evidence of the hole now."

"Would it by my genetics?" I asked.

"It’d have to be," she nodded. "Nothing else could explain it."

She smiled.

"You really are a new breed of human," she remarked. "Just how new - I have no idea. I need to find out more. This is fascinating."

 

10

 

I was concerned. I entered Katherine’s office and took a chair.

"How can I help you, Matron," she smiled, looking up from the display on her desk.

"It’s personal," I warned her.

Sensing my concern, she rose from her desk and stood beside me, her hand on my shoulder.

"Would you like to take a walk along the lake, sweetheart?" she asked gently. "I hear the giant squids are particularly friendly, this time of year."

I nodded.

We sat on a wooden bench, looking at the water.

"It has to do with what I did to your breasts," I told her. "Among other things."

"I thought we sorted all that out before," she smiled.

"Even though I'm different now," I explained, "I still want you to have great big breasts. I even find Beth’s big breasts attractive too."

"So?" she asked. "What’s the problem?"

"I also like the idea of you both having milk in them," I said. "There’s something sexy and feminine about it. It's a turn on for me."

"You know how I feel about my breasts," Katherine remarked. "And Beth likes the way she is. She asked me to put milk them. She’s a very maternal woman."

"I know," I continued. "But isn’t it silly to think the way I do?"

"I don’t think so," she smiled. "It’s up to you - the way you think. It makes you who you are. I have no illusions, what would’ve happened to me if my breasts weren’t the size they were. So try to stop worrying so much about it."

"I guess," I said.

"And you have to remember," Katherine informed me, "Beth had big milky boobs even before she was a slave. That’s probably why the drug company experimented on her in the first place. But she’s perfectly happy the way she is now. She’s a highly maternal woman."

I was silent for a few seconds.

"Also - I know why you were convicted," I told her.

"How can you?" she asked, a little surprised. "All my records were erased from the system. I don’t exist anymore."

"As your owner, I have access to court transcripts," I explained.

"Oh."

She thought for a moment.

"Then you know what I did to her," she said sadly. "You must think so very little of me now."

"No," I answered. "I don’t know that part. I only know it involved something you did to your foster mother that was considered to be unethical. What you actually did, was suppressed by the presiding judge."

"I’m not proud of what I did," she stated, taking my hand, looking intently into my eyes. "It was years of anger that made me do it."

"I don’t care what you did to her," I smiled. "For all I know, she probably deserved every bit of it. I’ll never think less of you."

She squeezed my hand tightly. She took a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped her eyes.

"I figured you got arrested of getting revenge on her, for enlarging your breasts," I said. "That’s what’s worrying me."

"No," she replied. "It wasn’t that. I hated what she did to my breasts and the effects of the hormones had on me - but I didn’t do what I did to her, for that reason."

"Oh."

She looked at me intently.

"My sweet love," she smiled. "Did you think, I secretly hated you for enlarging me? That I want to get revenge on you too?"

"Yes. When I read what little there was in the court transcript, I felt even more guilty about it."

"No," she restated, shaking her head. "I don’t hate you for making me so big. I know it’s what you want. I content with that. You don’t have to feel guilty about it. What I did to my foster mother was something entirely different."

"You don’t have to tell me what the reason was," I said to her.

"Thank you," she smiled. "Perhaps I’ll tell you one day - when I brave enough."

I nodded.

"When I was seven years of age," she explained, "my foster mother started giving me synthetic female hormones. She said I was going to be her ‘little lady’ - I found out what that meant later. I was eight when she started pumping my breasts up with silicone. I’m sure she wasn’t entirely right in the head. Neither was her husband for that matter. But I've learnt to come to terms with what she did to me, over the years."

She paused to see if I understood, then continued.

"What I did to her," she continued, "to get myself convicted of malpractice, was something else completely. Nothing really to do with my breasts or how the hormones screwed me up. And nothing to do with what you did. Okay?"

"Okay," I nodded. "I won’t ask again - unless you want to talk about it."

"Fine," she smiled, kissing me. "Thank you, my love."

 

11

 

A few days later, Grace got her new legs. It would take a little while before she would learn to use them properly. They needed to gain strength and coordination, before they could take her full weight. However, that didn’t stop Grace falling flat on her face a few times trying to walk - even though both Katherine and I had cautioned her about trying to stand prematurely.

"When I get my legs working," she grinned at me, "you can start teaching me martial arts."

"Sure," I smiled. "You’ve got all sorts of things to learn. Martial arts is only part of it."

"Me too," added Paula, from her bed next to Grace’s. "Don’t forget me."

"The pair of you," I confirmed. "I’m going to need you both."

They started happily singing a popular song called; ‘Judgment Day’s Not Far Away’ - both slightly off key.

 

12

 

The report on the state of our hospital arrived from the government. Katherine called us all to a meeting in the boardroom. Angela connected Paula to the meeting via a speaker system. Grace had no trouble getting there in her motorized wheelchair. She’d become a potential hazard to everyone, rocketing through the hospital at full speed - most of the time.

"The report is far better than we could’ve hoped for," Katherine smiled broadly.

There were cheers from around the table.

"Not only are we now a fully accredited research hospital," she continued, "but we have the highest rating possible - for our size of hospital. It’s wonderful news. I want to thank you all for helping to make it possible. And of course, a special thanks to Grace, for not ripping Magda’s throat out with her teeth."

After the meeting Katherine called me aside.

"You handled that well," I smiled to her.

"I didn’t quite tell them the whole truth," she said.

"What truth?"

"I cut a deal with Magda, the head of the inspection team," she admitted. "Not really illegal. It’s done all the time. I agreed to grow her granddaughter a new leg and now Magda’s our friend for life. It’s the way the system works, these days."

"Don’t let Grace know who our new patient is then," I laughed. "She’ll want to rip the leg straight off again."

Katherine smiled.

"You’re not exactly getting the quiet life you wanted, are you?" she observed.

"In a way it’s good though," I said, as we walked to the restaurant for coffee. "It’s certainly given me something to do. I can always hide down by the lake, with the squids, if it gets too much for me. And the hospital is going to make a perfect cover - if and when we decide to let Grace and Paula loose killing slave dealers and the people they sell to."

"You’re not serious about letting them kill dealers, are you?" she asked, with a hint of concern.

"No," I smiled. "But whatever we do decided eventually, a legitimate private hospital does make a wonderful cover. Maybe there’s a few more poetic things we can do to these dealers, in a hospital like this. Perhaps, the sorts of things they did to their slaves. It’s just a thought, however."

"I guess," she said thoughtfully, broadening into a smile, as we entered the restaurant. "It’s an interesting proposal you have there Matron. Quite creative, in fact."

"Thank you, Director," I smiled. "I'm sure we could come up with something quite imaginative, if we put our minds to it."

"Mm," she nodded, thoughtfully.

Beth made us a cup of coffee and we took it to a table.

"Are you angry with me, for making the deal with Magda?" Katherine asked. "About her granddaughter’s new leg and not asking you first?"

"Not at all," I replied. "Why should I be? You’re the Director of this place. It was your call."

She smiled at me.

"What you looking at?" I grinned.

"You," she replied, kindly.

"Why?"

"I have difficulty believing I'm your slave," she replied. "We’re all having the same problem. If it’s actually a problem at all."

"Good," I said, firmly.

"The hospital was truly a wonderful idea," she remarked. "Look at Beth. I doubt she’s ever been so happy, in her whole life. The same goes for Angela. She likes nothing better than taking an enormous hammer to pipes and things. And Yvonne. I’ve never seen a hospital as clean as ours. Yvonne always cleaning something and helping Beth in the kitchen. She’s a wonderful Housekeeper. I worry if she might be overdoing it at times. I’m sure it’ll be better, when we get more people to help her."

"And you?" I asked, with a smile. "What about you? Are you happy?"

"I'm very happy," she replied, touching my hand. "I married to the most beautiful in the world and I have a job I love. Of course I'm happy."

"That’s good," I smiled.

 

 

 

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© 2002 by Dave Hicks. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.