by Betty Neels
‘He fancies her.’
‘Who wouldn’t? She’s very pretty.’ Mary went to stand by Emily and threw an arm round her shoulders. ‘You’ve had a rotten time,’ she said warmly, ‘although you’ll never admit it. Well, George is going to pay you back every penny of what we must owe you and if you feel like it we’d love you to come and stay with us—unless you want to go back to London at once.’
‘Well, it’s sweet of you both, but I’d love to get back to London—I’ve two weeks’ holiday due, so I only need to stay here another two weeks. I ought to be able to get a job by then and I can live in until I have the time to find a bed-sitter or perhaps share a flat.’
‘But that’s almost Christmas!’ Mary protested.
‘It’s a whole month till then. May I come and stay with you in the New Year, as soon as I can get a week’s holiday? I shall miss the twins.’
She made the coffee and put the pot on the table with two mugs.
‘You won’t miss being at this hospital, then?’
‘No, not really, I’ve made some friends, but I’ve not had much chance to go out.’
George came in then and presently the twins woke up from their morning nap and Emily, leaving the little family together, dressed carefully and took a bus to the hospital. Day off or no day off, she was going to hand in her notice.
It was easier than she had expected it to be. The Principal Nursing Officer was understanding when it had all been explained to her; she would be able to leave in just two weeks’ time. Emily went back through the wide, modern corridors to the entrance, telling herself that she should feel on top of her world, and yet somehow she didn’t want to go. She couldn’t think why. At least not until she came out into the entrance hall and saw the Professor standing there, talking to Mr Spencer. He was standing half turned away from her, his grey head bent thoughtfully as he listened to his companion, and at the sight of him, large and elegant and remote, she knew why she didn’t want to go away. She wouldn’t see him any more if she did, not that she had ever seen a great deal of him, but even a glimpse each day would be better than never… And how like me, thought Emily on a soundless sigh, to fall in love with someone I’m never going to see again, and who’s never taken any notice of me at all…
The Professor turned his head and looked at her. There was no expression on his face, but he said something to Mr Spencer and walked across the entrance hall to her. ‘You look excited, has someone just offered you a Sister’s post or have you come up on the pools? Is it not your day off?’
She hadn’t told him that, but perhaps Louisa had. She said, carefully not meeting his eye: ‘Neither. I’ve just given in my notice.’
She didn’t see the sudden lift of his eyebrows and his voice was as casual as before. ‘Going back to London now that your sister is back?’
‘Yes.’ For the life of her she couldn’t think of anything more to say.
‘It’s more than that,’ he said slowly. ‘You look as though someone had lighted a torch inside you.’
Her eyes flew to his face and her own reddened. ‘No,’ she managed, and meant ‘Yes—you.’
‘Going home?’ he wanted to know. ‘I’ll drop you off.’
‘Oh—well that’s very kind of you, but I…’
He interrupted her. ‘Emily, what have I done?’
‘Done? Nothing, it’s just that it’s good for me to walk.’
He glanced out of the glass doors. ‘In blinding rain and a howling gale? How did you come?’
‘On the bus.’
He turned her round and fell into step beside her. ‘I should like to meet your sister’s husband,’ he observed as he opened the Jag’s door and popped her in.
So there was nothing to do for it but invite him in when they reached the house, to find George and Mary and the twins all together in the sitting room. Mary smiled at them as they went in. ‘There you are—did you give in your notice, darling? And when can you leave? Have you telephoned for an interview at your old hospital?’ She got up. ‘Professor Jurres-Romeijn, do sit down—this is George, my husband. Darling, the Professor saved the twins’ lives.’
‘I think you will have to include a number of other people in that statement.’ The Professor smiled back at her and shook George’s hand and Mary repeated:
‘Well, darling, you haven’t answered any of my questions.’
Emily hadn’t wanted to, not in front of the Professor, but there was no way out. ‘Yes—and I can leave in two weeks, because of my holidays, you know, and I haven’t telephoned yet. I haven’t had time…’
She cast off her hat and coat, said: ‘I’ll make some more coffee,’ and went away to the kitchen. It was ridiculous; this might be her last chance of seeing the Professor outside the hospital and here she was running away. She filled the kettle and thumped it down on the stove and lighted the gas, feeling bad temper and frustration and misery inexorably mixed together inside her.
The Professor had Claire on his knee when she returned to the sitting room, while William perched on his father’s lap. Mary was sitting back, doing nothing and looking pleased with herself. ‘When is Louisa coming back?’ she asked idly. ‘Is she out for lunch?’
The Professor’s quiet: ‘Yes, she’s having it with me,’ sent Emily’s heart, already in the depths, plunging just as far as it would go. But she schooled her face to polite interest, no more, as she handed round the coffee. ‘It’ll be very quiet here without her,’ she observed to the room in general.
Mary shot her a glance. ‘You’ll want all your time to pack up and settle the house. Will you put the furniture in store? George will see to that for you.’
‘Well, yes—I’d better, until I find somewhere to live.’
‘And get a job?’ questioned the Professor softly.
‘Yes.’
The Professor fixed her with a compelling eye. ‘By some extraordinary coincidence I had a letter from Doctor Wright this morning; he has already accepted an invitation for him and Mrs Wright to spend Christmas with me at my home in Holland and he asked me if there was any chance of you being free to accompany him. Mrs Wright is nervous of him travelling…do you by any chance drive?’
Emily’s voice came out in a surprised squeak. ‘Yes, I do.’
‘Splendid—Mrs Wright doesn’t like the idea of driving so far and Doctor Wright isn’t quite up to a long journey, although he potters locally, I believe.’ He smiled persuasively. ‘A couple of weeks of your time, Emily? A change would do them both good—they’ve been through a good deal.’
‘I haven’t driven a car for ages—and I don’t know Holland.’
‘I could arrange for someone to take you out on one or two runs easily enough, and Holland is a good deal easier than England—no hills, wide roads, short distances between towns.’
Emily didn’t reply. It seemed like a miracle that she would actually be with the Professor at his home. Things didn’t happen like that in real life; there must be a snag. Perhaps she would be expected to stay at some nearby hotel…
‘I should be delighted to have you as my guest,’ said the Professor with uncanny insight.
‘Well…’ She looked at Mary and found her smiling and nodding and George, as usual, looked calmly complacent; nothing ever disturbed George.
‘You go, darling,’ urged Mary, ‘it’ll make a nice change from the twins and give you time to decide about the next job.’ She added cunningly: ‘George could get on to finding you a flat while you’re away.’
‘But I haven’t even written to the hospital yet…’
‘Do it today, then, and if there isn’t a vacancy you can try somewhere else.’
‘Of course, if you don’t care to do it,’ murmured the Professor, ‘I’ll let Doctor Wright know. Unfortunately I shan’t be able to come over and fetch them.’ The Professor’s voice, quiet and deep and unhurried, managed to sound accusing, nonetheless.
There was a silence until he spoke again: ‘Perhaps you have a reason for refusing?’
Of course she had a reason, thought Emily crossly, and a fine thing it would be if she bleated out that she wanted to go, but having to see someone one loved each and every day for a fortnight was rather more than one could hope to stomach.
‘Emily, you’re being a twit,’ said Mary roundly. ‘You know you want to go—such a nice change from all those hospital wards and the babies.’
‘Very well,’ said Emily, and watched the Professor’s face relax. ‘You’ll be late for lunch,’ she reminded him, ‘and Louisa hates being kept waiting.’
For a fleeting moment he looked frighteningly ferocious. ‘I seldom forget dates with pretty girls,’ he told her silkily, and at the door:
‘I’ll let you know details very shortly.’
Mary, coming back from showing him out, glanced at Emily quickly. ‘One would imagine, seeing you two together, that you don’t like each other; that’s absurd, of course.’
‘Why is it absurd?’ Emily was busily collecting coffee cups and loading them on to a tray. But Mary didn’t answer.
The following day George and Mary and the twins went; Emily saw them off with mixed feelings; she was going to miss the twins dreadfully but it would be wonderful to be on her own. They had made her promise to go and stay with them just as soon as she could, and George had given her a nice fat cheque, waving aside her protests with an airy: ‘You’ve earned it, old girl; it was the one thing that made life bearable, you know; we didn’t have to worry about them because we knew you were looking after them.’ He gave her a hefty pat on the shoulder. ‘Now go and rig yourself out and have a splendid Christmas. And remember you’re coming to us just as soon as you can. I’ll look out for a flat for you—there’s someone I know in town who’ll help there. Give me enough notice and I’ll get your furniture out of storage before you get back.’
The house seemed quiet and cold when they’d gone. Louisa had gone up to London again, taking some of her things with her; tomorrow she would be gone too. Emily, who was on duty at two o’clock, made herself a sketchy lunch and went to fetch her bike. She would have liked to have made arrangements to get the furniture collected and stored, but until she heard from the Professor, there was nothing she could do about that. She’d start packing up tomorrow, she decided as she climbed the staircase, and then didn’t give it another thought; Sister was going off duty for the rest of the day and there was the report to listen to and then a surprising message from the Office to say that she was to report for night duty on the following day. That meant that she would have to go on duty at eight o’clock in the morning and work until after lunch and then go on duty in the evening. Half way through the afternoon it struck her that she wasn’t likely to see the Professor; he did his rounds during the day. She caught her breath at the thought of not seeing him, she had been counting on that even though she knew it was pointless and hopeless. It was going to be bad enough actually being in his house and seeing him every day for a fortnight—it would be heaven too.
There was no sign of him during the afternoon and his car wasn’t in the forecourt when she went off duty at eight o’clock that evening.
She went home feeling worried. Supposing he had changed his mind and didn’t want her to go to Holland after all? She was still worrying as she went into the house, to find Louisa there, drying her hair in front of the fire.
‘Oh, hullo, you’re back,’ said Emily unnecessarily. ‘Mary and George and the twins went this morning just after you’d gone. It’s been funny without them.’
Louisa mumbled something and Emily asked, turning the knife in the wound: ‘Did you have a nice lunch yesterday?’
‘Lunch? Oh, yes—Renier’s a smasher when it comes to going out. Jack brought me back this afternoon…’
‘Do I know him?’ asked Emily cautiously, and set about frying eggs and bacon. She was famished and there was no sign of any supper.
‘No—he’s Ann’s brother. Ann’s one of the girls at the flat. He’s absolutely fab!’
‘I thought you liked older men?’
Louisa peered at her through her wet hair. ‘Oh, they’re all right for a free meal, but Jack’s more fun—not that you’d know.’
Emily cracked an egg into the pan. ‘I thought you were a bit gone on Professor Jurres-Romeijn.’
‘Well, he’s rather gorgeous and he’s rich, but I’m never quite sure what he’s thinking.’ She went back to towelling her hair. ‘I haven’t had supper yet, will you do me an egg? I thought I’d go in the morning. Jack’s coming for me.’
‘All right, love. I’ll be at the hospital, I’m to go on night duty tomorrow.’
‘Again? Lord, what a life you do lead! Are you going to stay here or go to Mary’s?’
Emily thought it prudent not to mention her trip to Holland; after all, she hadn’t heard any more about it. ‘I’m going to store the furniture and get a job in London—I think my old hospital might give me a post again.’
Louisa wasn’t very interested. She began to talk about the model school and the fun she was going to have. ‘And heaven knows I deserve it,’ she declared, ‘life’s been so dull here. I can’t wait to get to London. We must meet sometimes when you’ve found yourself somewhere to live. I won’t ask you to the flat, I don’t think you’d like the girls much—I mean, they’re younger than you and two of them are models already.’ She got up and went to look at herself in the mirror over the fireplace. ‘I haven’t paid you any housekeeping for last month, have I? I can’t spare it, Emily, I simply had to have some shoes I saw—they’re black patent and I really need them.’
Emily fished around in her handbag. ‘That reminds me, here’s something towards them.’ Two five-pound notes, all she had until she went to the bank and cashed George’s cheque. Louisa took them with a careless: ‘Oh, thanks—I can always use bread.’ She turned round from her inspection. ‘Well, I’m off to bed, you’ve no idea how tired I am.’
And Emily, on her busy feet since early afternoon, had a very good idea. She was tired herself, but the supper things had to be cleared away and breakfast put ready. ‘See you in the morning before I go?’ she asked.
‘For heaven’s sake, don’t wake me at that ghastly hour! Let’s say ’bye now.’
Emily let herself out of the house in the early morning into a dark cold street. She had half hoped that Louisa might have got up to see her again, but there had been no sign. There was no sign of the Professor either, so she went home again at two o’clock wondering what was best to do. But there was a good deal to do and she had the rest of the day in which to do it. She cleared Louisa’s room, cleaned the house, had a meal and a bath and went back to the hospital. The evening was even worse than the morning had been. She thought longingly of her bed and hoped the night would be a quiet one.
As it happened it wasn’t too bad; there had been no operation cases that day and none of the patients were dangerously ill. All the same, she was kept occupied, answering bells, re-packing dressings, giving drinks and bedpans, prepping two cases for theatre in the morning. She was glad that she had a good junior nurse on with her, inexperienced but sensible; it was her first night too, but she was willing and anxious to do the right thing, and she had a sense of humour, something one needed with several elderly ladies all convinced that they were dying and demanding attention.
If every night is going to be like that one, thought Emily, dragging tired feet down the staircase, it won’t be too bad. She put a hand up to her cap and tweaked it straight. She had lost a pin but she couldn’t be bothered to do anything about it now—something she regretted as she reached the ground floor and found the Professor at the bottom watching her.
‘You look the worse for wear,’ he told her briskly, and although her heart had taken a great happy leap at the sight of him, she said quite crossly: ‘Well, I’ve been on duty all night and I’m very tired.’
‘And cross.’
‘And cross.’ She glowered at him because he looked so elegant and well-rested and she, who wo
uld have given the world to have impressed him, looked like something the cat had brought in.
‘I’ve a letter for you from Doctor Wright, you can read it later. You leave on the twelfth of December, don’t you?’ And when she nodded: ‘Good. You’re to go to Doctor Wright’s home on the morning of the fifteenth and drive them over to Holland. When are your nights off?’
Emily made her tired mind work. ‘Three nights from tonight.’
‘There’ll be a man with a car from Dent’s Garage outside your house at three o’clock in the afternoon on your first free day and on the two succeeding days. Is that all right?’
She gave him a bewildered look and he said patiently: ‘You’re to drive around a bit and get used to it again. Now go home to bed, you’re not fit for anything else.’
She turned away, wanting to burst into tears for no other reason than that she looked a mess and he had no patience with her. She hadn’t taken two steps before he’d caught her by the arm and turned her round to face him.
‘You poor small creature,’ he said gently, ‘I’ve no right to talk to you like that—I’m sorry. Tell me, where will you go when you leave here?’
She blinked. ‘I don’t know. I hadn’t thought about it because I didn’t know, did I?’ She wasn’t accusing him, only stating a fact.
‘Louisa?’
‘No—no, there wouldn’t be room, besides…’ She stopped and finished: ‘She’ll be so busy. I’ll find an hotel.’
‘I’ve friends living close to me; they’ll be glad to put you up. I’ll take you up to town when you leave.’
‘Oh, but I couldn’t…’
‘Don’t be a silly goose. Now go home to bed.’
Emily went, already half asleep and a bit muddled in the head as a consequence but content because she was going to Holland. That was a fact, and what was more, the Professor seemed to have arranged things very nicely for her. She wondered what his friends would be like, and was she supposed to pay for bed and breakfast? She was pondering this when she fell asleep.