Fate takes a hand

by Betty Neels

  At the hospital she was asked to wait while Trottie was examined. It seemed an age before a nurse came to tell her that she could sit with her for a while. `She's been X-rayed,' the nurse explained, 'but we'll have to wait for a little while until they're looked at. She's a bit drowsy—she was given something for the pain.'

  Trottie was half asleep. 'It don't hurt now,' she assured Eulalia. 'I'll be all right, Miss Lally, do you go home to Peter.'

  `In a little while. He's quite all right, Mr Wedge said that he would stay with him. He'll know what to do. Don't worry, Trottie, everything's fine.'

  Trottie dozed off and Eulalia sat holding her hand, thinking about the future. It would have to be re-planned. She couldn't take a job until Trottie was fit again, and if it was a badly broken leg and from the glimpse she had had of it when the paramedics had examined it, it certainly looked as if it was— then she would have to stay at home for some time. She couldn't work in the village even if there was work to be had, for everyone would want to know why she—possessed of her own cottage and a handsome bank balance—should need a job, and sooner or later Peter would hear of it...

  A young doctor interrupted her thoughts, beckoning her away to tell her that Mr Wyatt, the consultant orthopaedic surgeon, would like a word with

  her. She was led away to a small office and found him sitting at a desk and Casualty Sister standing beside him.

  `Miss Warburton?' He shook hands. 'You must be anxious about Miss Trott. The X-rays show that the two lower bones of her left leg are broken. Rather nasty breaks, I'm afraid, which will need surgery. This will mean a stay in hospital while the wound heals. The leg will be put in plaster and there is no reason why she shouldn't return home once she has got used to crutches. She has every chance of recovering completely.'

  `When will you operate?'

  `Within the next hour or so. Miss Trott is shocked—a brief rest is to her advantage.'

  `I'd like to stay until the operation is finished.'

  `Of course. Would you like to stay with Miss Trott now for a while? When she goes to Theatre, Sister will show you where you can wait.'

  She went back to Trottie, who was awake now and rather tearful.

  `It's all right, Trottie,' said Eulalia. 'I've seen the surgeon. He's going to see to your leg very soon and I'll stay until you are back in bed.'

  As she spoke she was vaguely aware that someone had come into the department. There was a rumble of voices, and a moment later the cubicle curtain was drawn aside and Mr van Linssen, looking as calm and at ease as though he had just got out of his armchair, came to stand by the couch.

  He nodded at Eulalia, smiling a little at her openmouthed astonishment, and then turned his attention to Trottie, who looked up at him and smiled.

  Now I'll be all right,' she said.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  MR VAN LINSSEN took her hand in his. 'Of course you will. Mr Wyatt and I are going to have a look at that leg, and presently we'll put the bones together and give you a plaster.' He looked across at Eulalia.

  `If Eulalia would wait somewhere while we are doing it...'

  She bent and kissed Trottie's cheek, not looking at him. 'I'll see you later, Trottie, when you are back in your bed.'

  He gave her a searching look as she went past him. `Don't worry—such an easy thing to say, but I promise you Trottie will be as good as new.'

  She nodded because she believed him. Even though she disliked him, she told herself, he had never lied to her.

  There was no one else in the waiting-room. She leafed through the pile of old magazines and drank the tea a nurse brought her, and tried not to think about Trottie in Theatre now, with Mr van Linssen bending over her unconscious little body. She found to her shame that she was snivelling, and wiped her eyes and blew her nose in a vain effort to stop the tears. They went on trickling down her cheeks and

  presently she gave up mopping them. There was no one to see...

  Mr van Linssen, still in his green theatre kit, his mask pulled down under his chin, loomed in the doorway. 'You had better mop your face,' said he cheerfully. `Trottie is already awake. If she sees you in tears she'll probably insist on going home.' He added, 'There's nothing to cry about, you know.'

  Her hanky was sodden, and she wiped her eyes with the back of her hands like a child. 'I wish I knew the right words to tell you what I think of you,' she said in a watery voice, and then, remembering, But you've been very kind. I'm—I'm very grateful.'

  `Yes, yes, leave the gratitude for the moment. Come and see Trottie.'

  She got up then and went to the door. 'She's going to be all right? Was her leg very bad?'

  `Nothing which couldn't be put right. I've set the bones and her leg is in plaster. Mr Wyatt will keep her here for a few days—I had to make a small incision in order to get the bones in alignment. Once the wound has closed she can come home. Come along, now.'

  Trottie was in a small ward with half a dozen other patients, in a corner bed with the curtains still drawn round it. Mr van Linssen pulled them apart and gave Eulalia a small shove. 'You can have ten minutes,' he told her, and went away to where Sister was waiting for him at the other end of the ward.

  Trottie was awake, nicely cushioned with pillows,

  her plastered leg under a cradle so that it would dry and allow the wound, visible through the little window cut in the plaster, to be inspected.

  `I'm such a nuisance, Miss Lally.'

  `Rubbish, Trottie. You've been marvellous. Mr van Linssen says you will be able to come home very soon and everything's fine. I'll be going home presently, but I'll come tomorrow with some more nighties for you. What about some books?'

  `Just my knitting, love. Is Peter all right?'

  `Yes. Mr Wedge is with him, and I'll be home in time to get his supper and get him to bed.' She saw Trottie's eyes close and bent and kissed her. `Sleep well, Trottie, there's nothing to worry about.'

  Trottie opened an eye. `Well, of course not, with that dear man looking after us.' The eye closed, and in a few moments Eulalia left her.

  Sister was in the ward talking to a nurse, but there was no sign of Mr van Linssen. Eulalia wondered why he had been there and supposed that he was called to any hospital which might need him. He was already on his way home, probably. Sister came to meet her.

  `You'll be coming tomorrow? If you would bring a dressing-gown and more nighties—we shan't need to keep Miss Trott in for more than a few days, a week at the most. Come when you like in the afternoon or evening. Goodnight, Miss Warburton.'

  Eulalia said goodnight and went slowly down the staircase. She would have to get a taxi to

  Brokenwell, for the last bus would have left by now. She stopped to count the money in her purse, afraid that she wouldn't have enough, and was interrupted by Mr van Linssen saying rather testily, 'Come along, Peter will be wondering what's happened to you...'

  `You're still here...?'

  `Well, of course I am. Now, do come along like a good girl. The car's on the other side of the forecourt.'

  She hung back. 'I don't know how you got here,' she began. 'I mean, it was a surprise, but very lucky for Trottie, but you've taken care of her and there's no need to drive me home, it's out of your way.'

  `Nothing of the sort. Dodge is with Peter and I fully expect that between them they will have got a meal for us.'

  `Dodge?' asked Eulalia faintly. 'He's here too?' She was thrust into the car without further ado and he got in beside her. 'Company for Peter.'

  She turned to look at him as he drove away. 'I don't understand.'

  `Peter had the good sense to phone me before the ambulance arrived.'

  `Phone you?' She frowned. 'But we haven't got a phone. Besides...'

  `The village shop has, and he used it.'

  `And you came, just like that?'

  `Yes.'

  `But how did he know your phone number?'

  `I gave it to him.'

  She thought this over. 'Why?'

&nb
sp; `Various reasons.' He had slowed the car and stopped outside the cottage, and its door was flung open at once and Peter came racing out.

  `Is Trottie all right? Did you operate? Will you explain it to me later?' He beamed at Mr van Linssen and gave Eulalia a hug. 'You've been crying, your face is all blotchy.' He reached up to kiss her. 'Never mind, Aunt Lally, Mr Dodge has cooked a most gorgeous supper.'

  Mr van Linssen was standing by the car watching them, and she said quickly, 'Please come in and have supper. You must be hungry, and I know Peter's dying to talk to you.'

  He thanked her gravely, searching her face, and she turned away feeling shy all of a sudden, relieved to find Dodge standing just inside the door. He looked as downcast as usual as he greeted her. 'I have prepared a meal, miss, and I trust that you do not consider it presumption on my part. Young Peter has been of great assistance in its preparation.'

  `How very thoughtful of you, Dodge. Supper would be lovely, and I'm sure Mr van Linssen is hungry.'

  `Famished. Peter, if you'd like to sit here beside me I'll explain about Trottie while Eulalia tidies herself.'

  `What you mean is,' said Eulalia very clearly,

  must go and wash the tears from my face.' She

  glared at him, and went into the bathroom and stayed there for much longer than necessary, trying to regain her composure. When she went back into the kitchen, Dodge was dishing up and Mr van Linssen and Peter, heads together, were far too absorbed to, notice her, or so she thought.

  She offered to help Dodge, who accepted with dignity as he dished soup into the plates and removed a pie from the oven. 'I ventured to make sufficient pastry for a second pie, miss. I thought that you might like it for cold tomorrow. Steak and kidney with a trace of onion.'

  `Did I have any steak and kidney in the house? I don't remember...'

  `Peter and I visited the butcher, miss. He has excellent meat.'

  Mr van Linssen had got up and was pouring sherry. 'Something smells delicious, Dodge. Have a glass of sherry before we start on it?'

  `I haven't any sherry—' began Eulalia, and was interrupted by Dodge.

  `We visited Mr Wedge, miss, in order to tell him that he had no more need to worry about Peter, and I, quite by chance, noticed a particularly good sherry there; a little stimulant is sometimes necessary.'

  Mr van Linssen hid a smile and they drank their sherry and sat down to their supper.

  The talk, naturally enough, was of Trottie. 'We'll fetch you directly after lunch tomorrow,' said Mr van

  Linssen. `Trottie will be feeling quite herself by then and will no doubt be pleased to see visitors.'

  Eulalia said quickly, 'There's no need—I mean, Peter and I can go, but you must want to return to London.'

  `Certainly not. Pray don't deprive us of a day in the country. Dodge certainly deserves a day out, don't you, Dodge?'

  `Indeed I do, sir, and I trust that I may have the opportunity of meeting Miss Trott—a lady of courage and spirit, I gather.'

  Eulalia ate her soup and her pie and the creme brulee Dodge had conjured up, and discovered that the future wasn't as black as she had thought it to be. Mr van Linssen had given her a detailed account of Trottie's injury and said confidently that there was no reason why she shouldn't be back and getting around with crutches in a very short time. 'And the sooner she is back pottering around the house the better. We'll have to change the plaster later on, and she'll need a quick check-up from time to time. That's no problem. I can drive down and see her here; there is no need for her to wait around at the hospital ... I'll talk to Wyatt about that.'

  `So you'll come again,' shrilled Peter happily. `If Eulalia allows me to do so.'

  He looked at her and gave her a small, mocking smile and she said coolly, 'Of course. You're very kind.' And because he was still smiling, she added, `Peter, it's time you were in bed. You've had such

  a busy day and thank you for being so quick to help Trottie. I'm proud of you.'

  `Well, Mr van Linssen wasn't here, so I had to get him, didn't I?'

  He shook hands with Mr van Linssen, then with Dodge, and wanted to know if he had to have a bath.

  `Have it in the morning, dear. I'll be up in two ticks to make sure you're in bed. Only clean your teeth.'

  `While you're tucking him up, we'll wash up before we go.'

  `Go? Not back to London?'

  `No, no. Dodge, I feel sure, has booked rooms for us at Mr Wedge's.'

  `Oh.' She stood uncertainly. 'I'm afraid I've not enough rooms here.'

  `You have been most kind giving us supper.' `Which Dodge cooked...'

  But you were not compelled to invite us.'

  Peter came out of the bathroom then and she went upstairs with him, and when she came down again presently it was to find the washing-up done and Mr van Linssen arranging the spoons and forks tidily in their drawer while Dodge hung up the tea-towels. `There was no need,' she began. 'You've both done all the work. Thank you.'

  `Dodge is a dab hand at washing dishes, and I'm learning fast,' said Mr van Linssen. 'Goodnight, Eulalia.' He walked across the room to her, bent and

  kissed her, and went through the door, leaving her with her mouth open.

  `Time for a nightcap before we go to bed,' observed Mr van Linssen to Dodge, and led the way down the street to the Boy and Horseshoe.

  As for Eulalia, she stood for quite some time, doing nothing at all, trying to convince herself that she didn't like Mr van Linssen and having finally to admit that, despite his offhand manner and his tiresome habit of always being right, she liked him very much.

  You can stop there, my girl, she told herself, he's all but a married man.

  She went to bed presently, peeping into Peter's room to find him fast asleep with Charlie and Blossom curled up on the end of the bed. She thought of Mr van Linssen over at the Boy and Horseshoe and wondered if he was asleep too. It would be nice to see him tomorrow, she thought as she closed her eyes, but he shouldn't have kissed her. Not like that, for it hadn't been a social peck, far from it. And she had enjoyed it.

  She and Peter went to church in the morning, then went back to eat Dodge's excellent pie before collecting such things as Trottie might want for the next few days, and that was barely done before the Bentley drew up before the door.

  Mr van Linssen greeted them pleasantly, suggested that Charlie might go with them, settled the three of them in the back, waited patiently while Eulalia went back to make sure that Blossom was

  indoors, and with Dodge beside him drove to the hospital, where he persuaded Charlie to stay in the car and led his little party inside.

  Trottie was sitting up in bed, looking small by reason of the cradle in the bed, but her colour had returned and her hair was brushed back into its usual severe bun. She beamed at them all and looked enquiringly at Dodge.

  `Miss Trott, this is Mr Dodge, who runs my home for me.' Mr van Linssen smiled at them both in turn. `I'm sure he'll want to tell you how much he likes Ivy Cottage. Eulalia and I are going to talk to Sister for a few minutes. When we come back, Peter, I don't think anyone would mind if we took a look round together.'

  He looked at Eulalia then, an unsmiling look, and she found herself blushing under it, quite unable to look away from him. She might have stood there for untold moments if Peter hadn't said, 'Do hurry, Aunt Lally, there's such a lot to see.'

  She walked beside him as they went down the ward and into Sister's office, where they were joined by the young doctor who had first seen Trottie in Casualty. He eyed Eulalia with open admiration and treated Mr van Linssen with a respect which made her realise what an important man he was in his profession. Miss Trott was doing well, he assured him, and continued in technicalities, leaving her to listen to Sister's reassuring remarks about Trottie. Presently they went back to the ward and Peter skipped

  away with Mr van Linssen, while she sat down beside Trottie's bed and listened to Dodge discussing the best method with which to make choux pastry, his usually sombre face p
ositively animated. She glanced at Trottie, whose cheeks were nicely pink. She was smiling at him while she contradicted him flatly, something he took in good part.

  Back at the cottage, it seemed only polite to ask them in for a cup of tea, an offer which Mr van Linssen accepted with alacrity. 'We shall be leaving shortly. I have an engagement this evening and we must get back. I'm sure that Trottie will go on well, but if you are worried please do not hesitate to let me know. I'll be in touch with Mr Wyatt, who will let you know when she may return home.'

  She thanked him, poured the tea and watched the cake she had baked early that morning being demolished. Not a word had been said about their previous meeting. Presumably it wasn't to be referred to again and everything was to be left for Mr Willett to deal with.

  They got up to go presently, and Peter asked eagerly if Mr van Linssen would come again soon.

  As he always did, Mr van Linssen gave him a serious answer. 'Perhaps not here, Peter. I shall certainly go to the hospital when the time comes, to take off Trottie's plaster and put on a fresh one, and just to make sure that she's as good as new.'

  `You wouldn't have time...?'

  Eulalia said in a wooden voice, 'Peter, dear, Mr

  van Linssen's a very busy person. I expect he'll come if he has the time, but his time isn't always his own. He can't do what he likes...'

  Mr van Linssen grinned.

  Driving back to London, he observed to Dodge, `Miss Trott is rather a nice person, isn't she?'

  `A charming little lady, sir. I must say I was much taken with her. We got on famously.'

  A remark which gave his master a good deal of satisfaction. In the intervals of their desultory conversation he bent his powerful brain to set his plans for the future in motion. As they were nearing the end of their journey he said carelessly, 'I may want you to drive down again, take Miss Trott flowers and so on—I can't get away, and if there are any small problems you can let me know.'