by Betty Neels
‘And you, young lady—you have been with us long enough to be able to say ja or neen, have you not?’
Julia gave him the benefit of her nicest smile and said, ‘Ja, Professor,’ and went on to recite her meagre, badly pronounced vocabulary, and when she had finished everyone cried ‘Bravo!’ and raised their glasses, declaring that she had made a very good start, to which she cheerfully agreed, joining in their laughter, and while she laughed suddenly wondered where Ivo was, for he should most certainly have been there. She looked round carefully to make sure she hadn’t missed him and caught the doctor’s eye; she blushed when he walked across the room to her and asked quietly, ‘Looking for Ivo, are you not? He went out to see a child—he shouldn’t be long.’
But he was; they waited lunch for half an hour, and when he still hadn’t come home, the three of them sat down to cold turkey and salad and a rich pudding of Bep’s own make. They had almost finished when he joined them with a murmured word of apology and started his own lunch while they stayed at the table, drinking their coffee and keeping him company, entertaining him with an account of their visitors that morning.
Ivo obviously had something on his mind; he would tell his father after lunch, but in the meantime there seemed no reason for them all to sit in gloom. The conversation, such as it was, was sustained until Ivo began on his coffee, when Julia said,
‘Miss Jason, shall we go to the sitting room? I’m sure the doctors want to talk shop, and they wouldn’t want to bore us.’ Which wasn’t quite true. Julia for one was dying to know what could have happened to make Ivo look so serious. She pushed back her chair and hoped Marcia would do the same, but even as she did so, Ivo said, ‘No, Julia, don’t go,’ and turned to Marcia. ‘I must ask you to do without Julia for a day or two, Marcia—I need her help for an emergency in Oisterwijk.’
Julia sat very still, watching him; he hadn’t bothered to ask her if she wanted or was willing to help. She reflected that sometimes it was nice to be taken for granted in such matters and wondered what the emergency might be. As did Marcia.
‘Unless it’s very urgent, I don’t see how you can ask that of me,’ she said. She gave him a melting look and pouted, ‘I need such a lot of care, Ivo.’
Julia bit back her explosive opinion of this remark and waited to hear what Ivo would say.
‘It is urgent—there’s a case of polio in Biezel. It’s only a small village, but a lot of the children who live there come into Oisterwijk to school. There are two other cases I’m not quite certain about. I’ve done lumbar punctures and sent them in to the path lab in Tilburg, but we can’t get a result in under two days. I think we should do a mass inoculation—that’s why I want Julia.’
Julia took this piece of news calmly; emergencies cropped up frequently in her working life and she had learnt not to get flustered. But Marcia was more than flustered. She exclaimed in a voice shrill with feeling, ‘Polio—and you dare to sit down to table with us, Ivo! It’s criminal, we may all become infected!’
He gave her a slow thoughtful look and said with patient courtesy,
‘I’m neither criminal nor negligent, Marcia. You yourself are quite immune, and we three have at some time or other in our lives been immunized.’
‘I still think it’s running unnecessary risks to my health. You can’t take Nurse Pennyfeather from me. I’m quite unable to look after myself, and I refuse to be looked after by someone who has become open to infection.’
Julia, watching Ivo, knew now what Jorina had meant when she had told her that Ivo became remote when he was angry. He seemed a different man, although his expression was still pleasant enough as he said patiently,
‘You are perfectly able to look after yourself now, Marcia. From your letters, you know, I had the impression that you had made little or no progress, but that is not so, is it? You are well, or almost so. A day or so without Julia to fetch and carry for you will give you all the stimulus you need.’
Julia inquired, ‘The child—how old is he?’
Ivo smiled at her and passed his cup for more coffee. ‘It’s a she—twelve years old and unfortunately goes to school in Oisterwijk. She went to a children’s party there on Christmas Eve, too. Her mother told me that she didn’t feel well when she went but insisted on going.’
‘She’s very ill?’
He nodded. ‘Yes—all the classic symptoms, and paralysis has set in. I got her into hospital. I must go back and have a look at the other two.’
Marcia spoke and they both turned to look at her, a little guilty because they had quite forgotten she was there. ‘What about me?’ she wanted to know. ‘What am I supposed to do all alone here—what about the dinner party this evening?’
‘No dinner party, I’m afraid,’ said Ivo in what Julia considered to be far too careless a tone. ‘If we mean to do a mass immunisation, we shall need to get organised, and that will take the rest of the day. We’ll have to get hold of the school health authorities and find out which children have been immunised, for a start. They’ll come first, then the contacts—everyone, in fact.’
‘Oisterwijk too?’ asked Julia. Her mind boggled at the thought of all the odd Dutch names to be written on to the official forms someone was bound to produce.
Ivo nodded; as though he had read her thoughts he said,
‘It won’t be too bad. We’ve our own medical records and almost everyone in the area is a patient of one or other of us. If we have to do the lot I’ll find someone to do the writing. You’ll be of more use to us with a swab and a syringe in your hand.’
Julia looked relieved. ‘What’s to be done first?’
‘The practical Nurse Pennyfeather!’ He looked, just for a moment, almost gay. ‘If, when you’ve made sure Marcia has all she wants in the sitting room, you would come to my study—we’ll check through the cards of the children who were at the party and make sure they have all been immunized. That at least we can do.’ And in answer to her look of inquiry, ‘Yes, I remembered to get a list of the children who were there—that’s what you wanted to know, wasn’t it?’
Long before they were finished there were two more calls to children who had been taken ill. Julia went with Ivo and laid out the lumbar puncture set while he examined them, and then, masked and gowned, held them in a neat curve while he did it. He worked quickly and accurately and with complete relaxation, and he was kind to the parents as well as his little patients, who, sadly enough, were very ill. Ivo arranged for them to go to hospital, then set about inoculating everyone who had been in contact with the children during the last few days.
When they returned from the second case it was to find that Doctor van den Werff had contacted the health authorities and arranged for supplies of vaccine as well as syringes and needles to be delivered—he had notified the police too and arranged to take over the school houses in Beizel and Oisterwijk. ‘I said we’d start at seven tomorrow morning,’ he explained calmly.
Julia felt a little guilty about Marcia, left alone all the afternoon, and expected her to be sulky and difficult, so she was completely knocked off balance by that young lady’s manner. It was a mixture of sweet sympathy and eagerness to hear about their activities, allied with subtle turning of the tables against Julia, which happily the men didn’t seem to notice.
Julia stole a look at Ivo and saw the little furrow between his brows again, and when she got up to go on some errand for the doctor, he gave her a look which chilled her with its bleakness. Presently he followed her to make sure that she had packed everything they would need for the morning and his manner, although friendly, was remote, as though he were deep in thought and had no time for her. Jorina had said that he would never hurt Marcia, and Julia was beginning to think that she was right, especially as he felt responsible for her illness… They finished at length, and only as she was leaving the surgery did he look directly at her and say quietly. ‘Thanks, Julia,’ and then, ‘You don’t understand, do you?’
And she, knowing perfectly well what
he meant, paused at the door to reply, ‘Yes, I do, Ivo. I expect if I were you I should do the same as you intend to do,’ and was surprised to see his face suddenly crease into a smile. ‘No, you wouldn’t, Miss Pennyfeather, you’re much too nice, but thank you for your good opinion even though it’s sadly inaccurate.’
It was still very dark when she got up the next morning; she had seen Bep the night before about Marcia’s breakfast and any help she might need during the day, so all she had to do was to drink her coffee and eat the toast provided for her. Both men had already breakfasted, they informed her as they left her at table, with the warning that they would be at the front door in ten minutes.
It had been arranged that Ivo, with Julia to help him, should hold the clinic in the schoolhouse in Oisterwijk and that his father, with the help of a borrowed nurse from Tilburg, should take the smaller one in Beizel which, they hoped, would be finished in a day, leaving them free to join Ivo, together with a team of doctors and nurses from the hospital. The whole operation, allowing for setbacks and the absence of the doctors from time to time, should be completed in three days. They had been assured of the fullest co-operation from the Health Department and if they found themselves snowed under they could always ask for help, although, over the holidays, the staff problem was difficult.
They left the house together, Doctor van den Werff driving himself in the Mercedes, and Julia sitting beside Ivo in the Jensen.
There was already a group of people outside the school when they arrived. From somewhere or other Ivo had conjured up two clerical helpers who proceeded to sit themselves at two desks, the cards piled before them. They looked like housewives, not very young but pleasant and calm. Ivo, taking off his coat and hanging it with Julia’s on a peg behind the door of the classroom they were using, introduced them as Mevrouw Cats and Mevrouw van Bek, and hardly giving the ladies time to do more than smile at each other, said, ‘Julia, I shall want you to draw up the injections and swab the arms, right?’ He glanced at her. ‘If I have to go away, you must carry on. Don’t bother about anything else, just keep on with the jabs.’ He smiled at her briefly and said, ‘Right—let’s get started.’
It seemed to Julia that the queue snaking slowly past Mevrouw Cats and Mevrouw van Bek never diminished. Even working fast—and Ivo, she discovered, worked very fast—they seemed to make no impression upon it whatsoever. At first it was the young mothers with babies—the babies, unaware of what was happening, remained happy enough, sucking down the three drops of vaccine, nicely flavoured, before their mothers rolled up their sleeves ready for Ivo’s needle. But presently the babies petered out a little and the toddlers—those who, for some reason or other, had never been immunised—arrived. Not liking the idea at all, they fought, screaming at the tops of their powerful little lungs while they were divested of their outer garments, resisting at every button and every zip and sliding with the smooth slipperiness of cooked macaroni in and out of their mothers’ grasps until caught and held firmly in Julia’s lap as Ivo slid the needle in.
The older children were a little easier, although there seemed a great many of them; but they were beginning to make an impression on the piles of cards at last, or so it seemed until Ivo went away. A young woman had come running in as he was about to inoculate a small girl’s arm and disregarding everyone around her, had burst into speech. Ivo finished with the little girl, pulled her blonde pigtail gently and got up. ‘There’s another child,’ he said. ‘Just keep things going until I get back, will you, dear girl?’
Julia, already piling syringes, needles, swabs and spirit bottle handily, nodded. ‘I hope it’s not bad,’ she said briefly, and gave him a little smile as she turned to the next patient, then remembered to say over her shoulder, ‘Leave the address—just in case.’
She was glad of that half an hour later when a man came pushing through the waiting queue and addressed her urgently. She waited until he had finished and then asked ‘Doctor?’ and when he nodded, copied the address Ivo had left and gave it to the man, glancing at the clock as she did so. It was already gone eleven o’clock and the queue had doubled in size.
It was almost half past one when Ivo finally appeared, to take off his overcoat, put on his white coat and mask again and pick up the syringe Julia was holding ready. He plunged the needle in, grinned at the small boy who was getting it and said,
‘Nice work, Julia—sorry you’ve been on your own.’ He looked round the room, his quiet eyes missing nothing. ‘A good crowd still—the more the better.’
Julia swabbed the arm before her. ‘You got the second message?’
‘Yes—I sent the first child to hospital. This one isn’t too bad, but he’s gone too, of course. Now get that gown off and go across the road to the hotel. Ask for coffee and sandwiches and sit down and eat them—I’ll pay later on. You can have fifteen minutes. When you come back I’ll go.’
They hardly spoke again, only when it had something to do with their work, and although she was beginning to get tired, Julia would have liked the afternoon to last for ever because Ivo was there with her, but four o’clock came and a relief medical team with it, and with barely a pause in the work, they took over, and Julia found herself outside in the tree-lined main street of the little town, being urged towards the Jensen.
‘I’ll run you home first,’ said Ivo, ‘before I start my visits.’
She got in beside him. ‘No—there’s no need, and it would be a dreadful waste of time—I’m quite happy sitting in the car.’
He gave her a grateful look. ‘Accommodating girl,’ he said lightly, ‘there aren’t very many. You can go to sleep if you like.’
But she didn’t go to sleep, she thought, and as he was speeding home after his final visit she asked tentatively, ‘Doesn’t Jorina usually help you with the surgery when it’s a big one?’
‘Yes—why?’
‘Well, wouldn’t I do instead? I believe I could manage. I’ve been thinking about it—and it would save you and your father some time if I sent the people in when you ring…’
He swung the car into the little lane and stopped unfussily exactly in front of the door. ‘Clever Julia,’ he said with kindly mockery. ‘Why not? It’ll certainly help, but what about language?’
‘Well, I shan’t need to say much, shall I? I’ll manage, and if I get stuck I’ll come to you for help.’
They got out of the car. ‘You’re not too tired?’ he asked, and she said at once, ‘No more than you or Doctor van den Werff are.’ They went into the house then, to be met by Bep with the welcome news that she had tea waiting for them.
‘I’ll put on another uniform first,’ said Julia, and disappeared to her room. When she came down ten minutes later, Ivo was in the sitting room with Marcia, who, Julia immediately observed, was being gentle and understanding and very much the brave little woman again. She paused in her talk with Ivo just long enough to give Julia a brief smile which held triumph and complacency, letting her see how easy it was to get a man’s attention, even if she weren’t a black-haired beauty who knew all about germs and cultures and how to bake bread. And Julia, always a girl to accept a challenge, smiled back, ignoring Ivo and applying herself to her tea, while she listened to the intelligent questions Marcia was putting to Ivo. The girl was really very clever, but she wasn’t, it seemed, to have it all her own way, for when Doctor van den Werff came in a few minutes later, he took the conversation in the politest way imaginable into his own hands, and, almost as though he had been listening at the door, proceeded to praise Julia in glowing terms for her part in the day’s work; something which she found embarrassing, for she had, before this, worked far harder on a hospital ward, where it had been taken for granted and gone unthanked. She was about to remark on this when she caught the doctor’s eye upon her; he was smiling and looked so very like Ivo that she smiled back with a warmth of which she was quite unaware. A moment later he had half-closed his eyes, leaving her to wonder what he had been thinking. But he had most effec
tively broken up the conversation Marcia had started with Ivo, and it cheered Julia a little to see how quickly Ivo left her side with some light excuse and went to sit by his father, discussing their plans for the next day.
Presently they got up and went away to Ivo’s study, and presently, too, it was six o’clock, and to her relief she went to usher the first of the patients into the waiting room at the side of the house.
They finished just before eight o’clock and went in to a late dinner—a meal at which Marcia shone both in appearance and conversation, for Julia was by now too tired to do more than push her cap straight on her rather untidy hair and scrub her capable little hands for the hundredth time that day. Nor did she contribute much to the talk, leaving it to Marcia to continue in her role of sympathetic listener and interested questioner. She had looked up once or twice during the meal to find Ivo’s eyes upon her, but beyond a half smile and an odd word, he hadn’t addressed her directly except to invite her agreement or opinion upon some point touching their work.
They hadn’t been in the sitting room for more than half an hour before Ivo suggested that as they would be starting at seven the next morning, she might like to go to bed, and when she had hesitated he said easily, ‘Bep can take Marcia upstairs if she needs help, but I don’t imagine she does. In any case, did you not say that you didn’t require Julia’s services any more, Marcia?’ His voice was smooth, though he was smiling, and Marcia’s long face became wary.
‘I’m sure Nurse is anxious to get back to England,’ she said in the gentle voice Julia so disliked, ‘but I suppose she will stay until your little crisis is over.’
Ivo answered her a little coldly, ‘If you mean by “little crisis” the risk of a great number of people—mostly young—suffering from the same illness which you have yourself had and from which you have so successfully recovered—yes.’
Which remark, uttered in a silky voice, got Julia to her feet, because probably they intended to discuss her departure and she had very little energy to contribute to the discussion, even if they invited her to do so. She said goodnight rather abruptly and went up to bed, and lay awake until two o’clock in the morning, telling herself, each time she turned over her pillow and rearranged the bedclothes, that as far as she was concerned, the sooner she went home the better.
