Heaven Around the Corner

by Betty Neels

  The snow had stopped on the morning she went to the Bergen Bank to collect her salary. Rather to her surprise Miss Savage had asked her to get some more money at the same time. It had seemed a great deal when Louisa had handed it over such a short time ago; apparently housekeeping was an expensive business in Norway. She went to the same clerk again and was ushered into Mr Helgesen’s office.

  And this time he wasn’t alone. Mr Savage was there, sitting in one of the leather chairs. Both men got up as she went in, but only Mr Helgesen crossed the floor to shake hands; Mr Savage contented himself with a curt nod, his severe expression not altering one jot. And two can play at that game, thought Louisa as she turned a shoulder to him and addressed Mr Helgesen. ‘I think perhaps the clerk made a mistake. I’ve only come to collect my salary.’

  ‘No mistake, Miss Evans.’ Mr Helgesen looked delighted to see her again. ‘Mr Savage wished to see you; he has come specially for that purpose.’ He added gallantly: ‘Of course I wished to see you, too.’

  She smiled at him rather shyly. ‘Thank you. Oh— I’m sorry, I almost forgot, I have another note from Miss Savage. She asked me to get her allowance while I was here.’

  The two men exchanged glances. ‘Did you not collect it when you were last here?’

  ‘Yes.’ Louisa frowned a little. ‘She said there wouldn’t be any difficulty, that I was just to ask…’

  ‘Yes, yes, of course,’ said Mr Helgesen soothingly. ‘It shall be attended to—if I might have her note?’ He went to the door. ‘I’ll arrange matters with the clerk.’

  Louisa didn’t much fancy being alone with Mr Savage. ‘Couldn’t I get it when I get my money?’ she enquired, and made for the door, too.

  ‘Miss Evans,’ said Mr Savage. His voice was quiet but not to be ignored. ‘I wish to speak to you.’

  She faced him reluctantly and saw his smile. It wasn’t a friendly smile; she sat down without a word and waited.

  ‘How is my sister?’

  It was a difficult question to answer truthfully, and she hesitated. ‘I think she’s making slow progress, but she’s unpredictable. I mean, her moods vary all the time. But she sleeps well—too much, perhaps—and for the most part she seems content, although she doesn’t like living here. She hardly ever goes out, but one can hardly blame her in this weather…’

  ‘You go out?’

  ‘But I like it, I think it’s lovely, all the snow and the streets lighted…’

  ‘Spare me your raptures, Miss Evans. Claudia’s friends haven’t returned?’

  She stared at him in surprise. ‘But they went back to England—Miss Savage was very upset.’

  ‘You are sure of that?’

  She hesitated. ‘Yes—I should have seen them otherwise. I did think I saw Connie—I don’t know her last name—a few days ago, but the pavement was crowded and I lost sight of her. It must have been a mistake.’

  ‘You didn’t enquire at the Norge if she was there?’

  Louisa said patiently: ‘I’ve just told you—I don’t know her name.’

  He stared at her with hard eyes and picked up the phone on the desk—a piece of impertinence, she decided, in someone else’s office, too. Who did he think he was?

  Of course she didn’t understand a word he said, but when he put the receiver down his face was as black as thunder. ‘The three of them left yesterday evening.’

  She said, ‘Oh, dear,’ and his lip curled. ‘I shall accompany you back to the flat,’ he told her. ‘Does my sister expect you back immediately?’

  ‘As a matter of fact she told me to have two hours off because she intended to stay in bed until lunchtime.’

  ‘Just so,’ said Mr Savage; she wouldn’t have been surprised to have seen him grind his teeth and sighed quite audibly with relief as Mr Helgesen came back into the room. He glanced first at Mr Savage and then smiled at her. ‘I have told the clerk to let you have Miss Savage’s allowance. Mr Savage has opened an account for you here; he thought it wiser, since you were in a foreign country and might not realise…it is, I think, rather more expensive here than in England. You can draw any amount you wish, of course,’ he laughed a little, ‘provided there is still some money there.’

  ‘That’s very kind of you, Mr Helgesen.’ Louisa turned round to face Mr Savage getting himself into a sheepskin jacket. ‘And I expect you meant to be kind, too, Mr Savage, but I am capable of managing my own affairs, thank you. I promise you that I shan’t run up bills all over the town.’

  ‘And I’m too far away to keep you to that promise. Nurse, shall we go?’

  He said something to Mr Helgesen and moved to the door, leaving them together. ‘Remember that I will do anything to help you, Miss Evans.’ Mr Helgesen engulfed her hand in his. ‘Are you ever free in the evening? There is to be a recital of Grieg music at the end of the week, I should very much like to take you.’

  ‘And I’d love to come. But I’d have to ask Miss Savage first—you see, I’d have to leave her alone…’

  ‘Perhaps we can think of something. I’ll telephone you—if I may?’

  ‘Oh, yes, please.’ He really was a dear; what a pity that he and Mr Savage couldn’t be in each other’s shoes. She shook hands again and walked beside the silent Mr Savage to the desk, where she very defiantly drew out much more money than she needed, and received a bundle of notes for Miss Savage. She quite expected that her companion would make some snide remark, but he remained silent as they went out into the street, and, just as silent, strode beside her on the way back to the flat. Once or twice she was on the verge of some harmless comment, but then she remembered that he had begged her to spare him her raptures…

  The flat was quiet as she opened the door; usually Eva was bustling round cleaning. Perhaps she was already in the kitchen… Louisa went along the passage and pushed open the half open door. Eva wasn’t there, but Miss Savage was, sitting at the kitchen table, her bright head on her arms, snoring her head off. On the table was a glass, not quite empty, and beside it a half full vodka bottle. Louisa stood and stared, not quite taking it all in. It wasn’t until Mr Savage spoke very quietly over her shoulder that she turned her head to take a look at him.

  ‘You may be a splendid nurse, Miss Evans, highly qualified and skilled and taught everything there is to know about your profession, but one thing no one taught you, and that was to recognise an alcoholic when you saw one.’

  ‘No,’ said Louisa, and then: ‘Why wasn’t I told? The doctors—you…’

  ‘I believed that either one or other of the doctors would have briefed you; I had no reason to think otherwise. Indeed, I suggested to Claudia when I arranged for her to come here that she should engage an older woman and that she should be told what exactly was wrong with her patient. Instead, I find a chit of a girl who hasn’t a clue. There seemed no point in telling you at first, but when I heard that her three boon companions had been here again, I came down to see you and explain. As you see, I have no need to do so. The matter speaks for itself.’

  Louisa gave him a thoughtful look. ‘You have no pity, have you?’ she observed quietly. ‘I think you’re the most disagreeable man I’ve ever met. And now will you carry her through to the bedroom and I’ll get her into bed. And then I think you owe me an explanation.’

  He didn’t answer her, only stooped to lift the still snoring Miss Savage into his arms and carry her down the passage. Louisa, ahead of him, straightened the bedclothes and then tucked her patient up. ‘If you’ll wait in the sitting room,’ she suggested, ‘there are one or two things I have to do. If you want coffee there’ll be some in the kitchen.’

  She didn’t wait to see if he would do as she asked but got busy with Miss Savage, bathing her face gently, soothing her, smoothing her hair, wrapping her snugly, and then tidying the room which as usual looked as though it had been ransacked. Presently, when everything was tidy again and she was sure that her patient was still deeply sleeping, she went along to the sitting room. It surprised her that Mr Savage h
ad carried through a tray from the kitchen with the coffee pot and two mugs on it. He poured for them both, gestured her to a chair and asked brusquely: ‘Well, what do you want to know?’

  Louisa took a sip of coffee. ‘All the things that I should have been told in the first place, Mr Savage.’

  He sat back in his chair, drinking his coffee with the air of a man who had nothing on his mind. He said carelessly: ‘Claudia has been an alcoholic for the last eight years. Everything has been tried—and I mean everything. Once or twice it seemed that she had been cured, but she lapsed… These so-called friends of hers—she asks them to get her whisky or vodka or anything else she fancies, and they do. It seems certain that that’s why they came to see her again. Surely you would have noticed something?’

  ‘If I’d been warned beforehand, yes. As it was, I believed the doctor’s diagnosis.’ She added honestly: ‘Of course, the diagnosis was correct and I daresay the doctor thought I knew about Miss Savage—it’s quite possible, you see, to have all her symptoms for other liver complaints. But now that I know—yes, there were a number of signs I should have been suspicious about.’

  ‘I brought her to Norway because I hoped that away from her friends and the life she led, she stood a better chance of fighting her addiction. It seems I was wrong.’

  Louisa put down her cup and met the dark eyes staring at her so coldly. ‘Then wouldn’t it be a good idea to let her go back to England? She’s not happy here; she didn’t want to come—she told me that…’ She paused, seeking a nice way of putting it.

  ‘She had to, otherwise I should have stopped her allowance. Quite correct.’ He got to his feet. ‘No, I don’t intend to let her go back to England. On the contrary, as soon as she is fit enough, she shall travel up to Tromso, and you will accompany her.’

  Louisa choked back an instant denial. ‘Isn’t that a town in the north?’

  ‘Yes. My work is some fifteen miles away from there—a ribbon bridge is being built between two islands. There’s a small community there with a few hundred people.’ He passed his cup for more coffee. ‘You ski?’

  ‘Of course I don’t!’ She spoke sharply. ‘You don’t intend that Miss Savage should live there?’

  ‘Indeed I do—she will be under my eye, and so for that matter will you.’

  Louisa said with great dignity: ‘I believe I can manage my own life without your help.’ She added boldly: ‘Perhaps your sister would have had a better chance without your interference.’

  ‘You believe in plain speaking, Nurse, but I’m afraid your opinion holds no weight with me, so let’s keep strictly to the matter in hand.’

  ‘I’ll take a look at Miss Savage first,’ said Louisa. But that lady was still deep in a snoring slumber.

  ‘You have sufficient warm clothing?’ enquired Simon Savage as she sat down again. She told him briefly what she possessed and he said at once: ‘You’ll need more than that—get a pencil and paper, will you?’ And when she had, ‘I imagine Claudia has almost nothing suitable; you’ll outfit her as well.’

  Louisa wrote obediently and then lifted her head to look at him. ‘You’re not really going to send her all that way? She’ll be so lonely, and she doesn’t like snow or mountains…’

  ‘What a persistent young woman you are! Can you not see that she’s almost at her last chance? Perhaps such a drastic step as this will provide that chance. And now be good enough not to argue with me; my mind is made up.’

  ‘Oh, pooh to that,’ declared Louisa, and trembled at his icy stare. ‘Just supposing she’s ill—is there a doctor there?’

  ‘She could be taken to Tromso by motor launch in a very short time. There is a road, of course, but it will be closed until late April—even May.’ He smiled thinly at Louisa’s look of horror. ‘You don’t care for the idea?’ His voice was silky. ‘Perhaps you wish to give up the case, especially as you’ve been so misled.’

  He wanted to be rid of her; any doubts she had been harbouring were instantly squashed. ‘Certainly not, Mr Savage! I came to look after your sister, and that’s what I intend to do. As you said, such a drastic change in her life might be her salvation, and if there’s anything I can do to help her, I shall do it.’

  His laugh was quite genuine and she went red with embarrassment and rage. ‘I daresay you’ll want to be getting back,’ she told him stonily, ‘and there are several things I want to do before Miss Savage wakes up.’

  ‘Plenty of time for that, she won’t stir until this evening or even tomorrow morning.’ He walked to the door, picking up his jacket as he went. ‘And I’m staying in Bergen until Sunday. I shall be round tomorrow to see Claudia, and by the way, if you want to go out with Helgesen on Saturday evening, I shall be here—my stepsister and I have a good deal to discuss, and I daresay we shall do that better without your well-meaning interference.’

  Which remark left her speechless. Eva came back with the shopping presently and Louisa, always a girl to get things settled in her mind, went along to the kitchen, and while lunch was being prepared, got Eva to tell her all she knew about Tromso.

  Eva had looked at her in a puzzled fashion. ‘But that is a very long way away from here,’ she pointed out. ‘Why do you wish to know?’

  Louisa explained, very carefully, letting it appear that Miss Savage’s brother was taking her with him for the benefit of her health.

  Eva nodded. ‘That is a good idea. It will be beautiful—cold, you understand, but most healthy, and they will have each other, that will be nice.’

  ‘I’m not sure if I was supposed to tell you,’ said Louisa doubtfully. ‘What happens to your job here?’

  ‘Not to worry, Miss Evans, this flat is rented for six months by Mr Savage and I am to be paid for that time, whether I am needed or not. That was the arrangement.’

  ‘Oh, good.’ Louisa got up. ‘I’m going to see if Miss Savage is quite comfortable—she doesn’t want any lunch, so I’ll have mine here with you if I may and you can tell me some more about Tromso.’

  Mr Savage returned the following day in the morning. He had been quite right; his stepsister hadn’t roused until very late in the evening and then she had been difficult to manage. She had a headache for a start, she felt terrible and she had no wish to do any of the things Louisa suggested. But towards midnight she had quietened down and Louisa had been able to wash her face and hands, change her nightie and re-make her bed. She had gone to sleep almost immediately, which was a good thing, for with one thing and another Louisa was tired out. Disliking someone, she decided as she put her thankful head on her pillow, was more tiring than anything else she knew of. And it wasn’t her patient she was thinking of.

  It was Eva who answered the door, took his coat and assured him that she would bring coffee in only a moment. She seemed to like him and Louisa, coming out of Miss Savage’s bedroom, couldn’t think why. His ‘good morning’ to her was accompanied by a mocking smile and the polite hope that his stepsister was feeling more herself.

  ‘Well, she is,’ said Louisa, who had just had a slipper thrown at her by that lady, ‘much—but she’s also very irritable. Please don’t upset her.’

  ‘Oh, I won’t. I know what a hangover’s like, Nurse. And don’t look like that; I also know when to stop.’ He sat down by the window. ‘The weather’s changing. We shall have more snow.’

  ‘Indeed?’ queried Louisa coldly. ‘You can’t see Miss Savage yet, you know.’

  ‘Don’t be bossy, Miss Evans. When I’ve had my coffee I shall see my stepsister—I have a great deal to say to her.’

  ‘She has the most appalling headache…’

  ‘Of course she has.’ He got up and took the tray from Eva as she came in and smiled so nicely at her that Louisa blinked; she had no idea that he could look like that—quite human. ‘Three spoonfuls,’ he told her. ‘I have a sweet tooth.’

  Louisa was glad of her coffee. She had been up early, ministering to Miss Savage, persuading her to drink black coffee, dealing with her headache
, ignoring the screams and abuse and ill-temper. Never having been more than slightly tipsy herself, she could only guess how ghastly her patient must be feeling and do her best to get her rational again. She had succeeded to an extent, though. Miss Savage had stopped crying and carrying on and had drunk more coffee and now she was dozing fitfully. ‘I won’t have her upset,’ said Louisa out loud.

  ‘So you have already said,’ remarked her companion dryly. ‘I suggest that you drink your coffee and go out for a brisk walk, there’s nothing like fresh air for clearing the head.’ And when Louisa would have protested: ‘Have you sufficient money?’

  ‘Plenty, thank you.’

  ‘Very good. We’ll discuss clothes and travelling and so on when you return.’

  She was dismissed and it would be undignified to protest again. She peeped in at Miss Savage, lying back in her bed with pads on her eyes and the blinds drawn, and then went to her own room and got ready to go out. She was at the door when the telephone rang and when she went to answer it Mr Savage was lying back in his chair, his eyes closed. He looked formidable even like that. Louisa picked up the receiver and found herself smiling because it was Mr Helgesen, wanting to know if she were free on Saturday evening. ‘Because if you are, we could have a meal first and then go on to the concert. Could I call for you just after six o’clock?’

  ‘Oh, I’d love that,’ said Louisa happily, ‘only I quite forgot to ask…’ She hesitated and glanced at the figure in the chair. ‘Miss Savage isn’t feeling very well and I hardly like to…’