“It would be lovely if you could!” Jill sat back on her heels and shifted her cramped knees. “I didn’t realize you had a niece.” She spoke more to make conversation than out of any real interest. During the month ahead she knew that she’d never be able to remain aloof. It wasn’t in her nature to harbour resentment, but, all the same, she had no inclination to encourage Brenda’s confidence.
“Yes.” Brenda paused and Jill was startled by the spasm of pain which crossed her face. She was obviously thinking, perhaps even steeling herself to continue, and when she spoke her voice was charged with distress. “You see it was because of her ... I mean in a way, I wish I could explain and make you understand.”
“I don’t want any explanations.” Jill turned the matter lightly, uncomfortably aware of the tension in Brenda’s crouched figure.
Still holding the shabby doll in her, hands, her fingers nervously tearing at the frail, shabby material of its clothing, Brenda went on, disregarding Jill’s words. “Julie is five now, she ... she’s my sister’s child. My sister died when she was born.” A note almost of defiance crept into her voice. “My sister wasn’t married ... her ... her friend was killed in Germany.” She looked up, searching Jill’s face for her reaction. “It would have meant some orphanage, or institution. I just couldn’t bear the idea. She was such a darling baby, and the very first time I held her, her tiny fingers gripped mine...” There was a break in her voice. “I found a family, such kind people, they look after her; but now she is growing up it’s becoming terribly expensive—shoes, clothes, and that sort of thing. That was why I was so keen on promotion, the extra money would have been a tremendous help. I ... I find it difficult to manage. I don’t really want the job, not for myself I mean. I hate the idea of responsibility, it scares me stiff.” As Jill remained silent she went on more calmly: “Of course, I could do private work, it’s much better paid, but then I’d have to live somewhere, and there might even be odd weeks in between jobs, so I wouldn’t dare risk it.”
“I certainly begin to understand.” Jill again shifted her cramped position on the floor. “But why on earth didn’t you tell me? Why behave as you have done all this time when a few words would have made things clear?”
“Telling you wouldn’t have helped, and I thought that if you left, Matron would inevitably give me the job. I was certain that she’d meant to when Sister Wilks left. Then, like a bolt from the blue I heard that Dr. Laine had recommended someone for the post.” The habitual trace of sulkiness had entered her tone again, but there was an expression of candour in her eyes which softened her whole demeanour.
“I wish you’d told me.” The words were certainly spoken from Jill’s heart as she realized how different it might have been for her—those awful days at the beginning, that fight to justify herself in Duncan McRey’s eyes ... Yes, she must even have cared then, and as she looked back she believed that love must have come to her that night on the jetty when they had sat watching the darkness of the sea and felt the beat of waves at their back ... It had been the first time he had shown her any kindness or concern, yet she hadn’t known ... Jill closed her eyes for a moment as she relived that hour; then, with a tremendous effort, thrust it from her mind and returned to the present. “It would have helped so much if I had known ... you made it very hard for me.”
“I know. I’m desperately sorry, and now, all because of me, you have to leave.” There was unmistakable regret in Brenda’s voice.
“Yes, I’m afraid so,” Jill instilled a note of unconcern into her voice. “Well, it can’t be helped now, so it’s no use crying over spilt milk. You must tell me more some time about that little niece of yours. Now we’d better be thinking about lunch. Suppose you go off now, I’ll go to second lunch when you get back.”
Jill returned to her office in thoughtful mood. What a mess-up, what a ridiculous predicament to find herself in, all through the action of a thoughtless girl who hadn’t even managed to derive any benefit herself. She sank down gratefully into a chair and stared unseeingly through the window at the lawn white-tipped with frost, like the scene on a Christmas card—the thought only increased Jill’s melancholy. She’d be at St. Joseph’s over Christmas—she must be, and regardless of the ache at her heart, join wholeheartedly in the festive spirit around her ... And after Christmas—what then?
CHAPTER TWELVE
“Well, now I think that is about all.” Matron smiled brightly at the small group of Sisters and Nurses gathered in her room, then folded her notes on the table. “The staff dance will be, as usual, New Year’s Eve, and we’ll have the dining hall cleared for it as before.” She looked round enquiringly. “Now has anyone any questions to ask me?”
“I’ve got about twenty volunteers for carols. Do you think that will be enough?” one of the Sisters from the Adult Section asked.
“I should imagine so.” Matron gave the matter some consideration. “I don’t believe we had any more last year, and they managed to produce an adequate volume of sound!”
There was a general titter among the gathering at her remark, then Brenda Malling spoke. “Could we have our Christmas trees in good time, please, Matron? It was such a rush last year, and the children love to have them on the ward even before they are decorated.”
“Yes, Nurse, I’ll see to that” She made a note of the paper before her, then looking up again she addressed her remark to Jill and to the Sister from the Children’s Surgical Section. “I’ve allocated money from the Christmas fund for the tree decorations, the old ones seemed so shabby. I’m sure you’ll both make it stretch as far as possible. I trust, too, that you found a nice selection of toys in the hampers for distribution.”
Brenda, sitting next to Jill, nudged her meaningly, then whispered in conspiratorial tones: “Tell her they were awful, scarcely enough decent things to go round.”
“Did you say anything, Nurse Malling?” Matron turned her keen gaze in Brenda’s direction.
“No, Matron. ... I was just telling Sister Fernley that I thought we’d manage nicely with the toys,” she explained unperturbedly.
“Then that really is all.” Matron rose to her feet with an air of dismissal, but paused before adding, “This might be a good opportunity of telling Sister Fernley how sorry we all are to lose her, after such a short time, too. Still, we are very glad she will be spending Christmas with us and will be here for our annual dance. It only remains for us to wish her very good luck in the future.” There was an undercurrent of meaning in the smile she turned on Jill.
Her words met with a chorus of approval which followed Jill as, murmuring her appreciation, she edged her way unobtrusively towards the door. It hadn’t taken long for the news of her impending departure to become public knowledge. Several of the staff had already mentioned it to her, and she had on each occasion done her best to avoid any prolonged discussion. It wasn’t easy to answer questions. She couldn’t tell the whole truth, and it wasn’t in her nature to tell a direct lie. In general, they all believed her impending marriage to be the reason, and Jill knew how much they must have resented her air of secrecy. A coming wedding was always such a romantic piece of news in hospital, and Jill felt sure that her evasive manner must be causing adverse comment among the staff.
It was only two days since Harriet’s disclosure about the letter, but even in that brief space of time Jill had managed to resign herself to the inevitable, and the first shock over, she had with calm deliberation faced whatever the future might hold. Her fear of revealing the love which Duncan McRey had unwittingly inspired was a constant source of anxiety, and she was glad of the short respite which Fate had granted her, since by some lucky chance Harriet had deputized for him on his ward round on Monday, and on the Tuesday he had been, as usual, in London. To-day she knew she would have to face him, behave naturally and impersonally, and conceal from those searching eyes the emotions he had roused within her.
Jill swung her scarlet-lined cloak round her shoulders as she emerged from the warm
atmosphere of the main building into the cold air. Pale afternoon sunshine caused the frosted grass and trees to glisten with the sparkle of diamonds, while beyond the diff edge the sea stretched towards a misty horizon. She folded her arms closely under her cape as she hastened past the scattered buildings towards her own quarters, her face lowered against the cold, her thoughts on the coming meeting.
“Sister! Come over here a moment.”
Jill stopped still at the summons and with quickened heart-beats turned in the direction of the call. Since early morning she had been steeling herself to this encounter, picturing a million times that moment when she must face Duncan McRey, and now he had appeared without warning! Fighting back the weakness which threatened to engulf her, she walked firmly towards his advancing figure. “You want me, sir.”
“Yes, come with me. I’ve something to show you.”
Curiosity completely submerged any other emotion, and falling into step beside him Jill looked up questioningly at her companion. “Where are you taking me?”
“Just round to the main drive,” he answered, as he strode forward towards the stone steps flanking the entrance, at the foot of which was parked a modern, streamlined car. “Well, what do you think of it?” The unmistakable pride of possession was in his tone.
“It’s a lovely car, and you mean that it’s actually yours?”
“Harriet came to town with me yesterday. We did the deal and drove it back.”
Jill was aware of a stab of disappointment at the mention of Harriet’s name. If it was jealousy she did not recognize it as such. “I think you both showed excellent taste!” Duncan McRey opened the doors to show off the upholstered interior, demonstrated the innumerable gadgets, then satisfied with Jill’s obvious approval, walked back with her across the forecourt.
“There was another personal matter I wanted to discuss with you,” he stated briefly. “I spoke to Dr. Sharland on the phone this morning. He is completely satisfied with Terry’s progress. The temperature has settled, and in a few days he’ll be up and about again. Sir Trevor had a word with me too. He is anxious to know whether they should keep to their original plan to go to the South of France next week. Apparently your mother is doubtful whether the child ought to be left. I told him I saw no reason why they shouldn’t go as arranged. As far as Terry is concerned, there ought to be nothing to worry about.”
“I am so glad! I shall never be able to thank you enough for all you’ve done...” Jill broke off at, a loss for adequate words to express her gratitude.
“A breath of sea air might do Terry good. No doubt it could be arranged for him to get away somewhere with his Nurse. I have promised to go down next Sunday. Sir Trevor is most anxious that I should see the child once more. It’s not really necessary, but apparently your mother would go away with an easier mind. I shall discuss the question of getting Terry to the sea when I see them.”
“Yes, do. I’m sure they will agree to anything you say.” Jill paused as they reached the entrance to the Children’s Annexe. “I wish I could get over for the day myself...” The moment Jill had spoken she regretted her words. They sounded too much like a hint, yet how wonderful it would be if he did ask her to accompany him, and to be able to enjoy again the sweet intimacy of his companionship, so much more precious now she had learned its true value.
Duncan McRey’s next remark showed clearly that such an idea had not entered his head. “I’m due in ‘Out-patients’ now. I’ll be over for my ward round as soon as I can.” Jill removed her cloak and hung it carefully on the peg behind her door, then crossing to her office window she watched the physician retrace his steps to the Out-patients’ Department. Head forward and hands dug deep in his pockets, he walked with easy strides, the wintry sun glinting on his uncovered head. She choked back a sigh, perhaps after all Fate had been generous in forcing her hand. It might in the end be easier to make a complete break rather than go on as things were, in daily contact with this man, yet never daring to show the true depth of her feelings.
Jill turned abruptly from the window as a light tap on her door preceded Harriet’s entrance. With a nod and smile at Jill she seated herself on the edge of the desk. “I’m a bit early, so I thought we’d have a few moments to chat before Duncan turns up. You’ve just come from Matron’s meeting, haven’t you? How did it go?”
“Oh, quite well.” Jill seated herself at her desk. “Matron is a marvellous organizer. There hasn’t been nearly so much argument and squabbling about the festivities as there always was at Baldwin’s; planning the Christmas entertainments was a positive nightmare there!”
“I know ... I remember from my own student days! But I didn’t come here to discuss Christmas. I want to ask you something else. Do you think Lady Hallard would mind if I looked in to see them on Sunday? I’ve never met Sir Trevor or Terry either, and I thought I’d run over with Duncan when he goes—that is, if you don’t think she’d mind.”
“Of course she won’t mind, she’d be delighted.” Jill spoke with sincerity, trying to keep any hint of resentment from her voice. Everything was so easy for Harriet, from the beginning she had been able to meet Duncan McRey on his own level, while her own position of inferiority had inevitably been a barrier to any closer relationship. Harriet had no doubt suggested accompanying him without any sense of presumption, whereas she ... Jill bit her lips in an effort to fight back that sense of frustration, and forcing a smile went on speaking. “You’ll adore Terry ... Of course, he won’t be at his brightest yet, but Dr. McRey says he is well on the way to recovery, and even spoke of getting him away with Nana to the sea. He’ll love that, he is always so lonely at Brent Towers when mother is away.” She knew she was talking at random, but the sound of her own voice seemed to steady her.
“It’s rather a shame; to leave him at Christmas, isn’t it?”
“Of course it is, but mother is such a creature of habit. She has always spent every winter in Cannes, and I still remember how much a regular routine it used to be. I’m afraid I shan’t be able to cheer Terry up this year. It’s a hopelessly cross-country journey—I can’t even imagine doing it in a day. It’s the first time since I started nursing that I really mind being tied to duty.”
“Yes, I understand how you feel.” Harriet spoke sympathetically, then with an abrupt change of subject queried, “Have you seen Duncan’s new car?”
“Yes, I have!” Jill responded with a laugh. “I don’t know how you persuaded him to take the plunge, but I certainly think it was an achievement!”
“I felt elated about it myself,” Harriet agreed. “I couldn’t stand being shaken about in that old rattle trap of his any longer, so I decided it was time to be firm. As a matter of fact, if was much easier than I expected. He let me lead him to it like a lamb to the slaughter, and driving back he was as pleased as punch: kept putting the thing through its paces until I was so frightened I began to wish I hadn’t interfered! We did well over sixty most of the way, and I still don’t know which suffered more damage, his engine or my nerves!”
Jill joined in Harriet’s laughter. She could well imagine Duncan McRey at the wheel intent on getting the best out of the car, regardless of the ultimate effect on a new engine. “I’m sorry for you, it must have been a hazardous journey, but perhaps he’ll have recovered from his enthusiasm by Sunday.”
“I sincerely hope so.” Harriet spoke fervently, then looked searchingly at her companion. “Tell me, how are you making out with’ the Malling girl? Did she explain what happened about that letter? I still can’t get used to the idea of your leaving. I think it’s absurd that you should just sit back and do nothing. Why should you leave if you don’t want to?”
“I saw Matron first thing Monday. I couldn’t bring myself to say anything, how could I? It’s far easier to let things be. As for Brenda, well, we had it out and the whole thing was a stupid misunderstanding, and that’s all there is to it.”
It was obvious from Jill’s tone that she had no wish to prolong the discu
ssion, but Harriet was not to be deterred. “She didn’t do it intentionally, did she?”
“Yes, in a way I suppose she did, but we’ve come to a mutual agreement now, and decided to let sleeping dogs lie.” Jill paused, then realizing that her friend was far from satisfied with her explanation, continued, “The girl had some silly idea that I was the one obstacle in the path of her own promotion. Apparently she isn’t to have my post after all; that seems to me to be a just retribution. I think it best to let the matter rest there,” she ended on a note of finality.
“It sounds most unsatisfactory. You take things far too calmly; it’s no affair of mine, but why you should allow yourself to be browbeaten into leaving, I can’t imagine.”
“I minded a lot at first,” Jill spoke quietly, obviously debating her words and barely conscious of her listener. “But now I’ve come to see things differently. I think ... yes, I think that perhaps I should prefer to return to London.”
“Of course, if that’s the case...” Harriet glanced curiously at her companion, then went on in a lighter tone, “You know best; after all, it’s your affair.” As an afterthought she added: “I suppose there isn’t any truth in the rumour that you are leaving to get married? I haven’t denied it, but knowing that you’d never intended to leave at all, it hardly seems plausible.”
“It’s an easy excuse which I’ve neither admitted nor denied,” Jill explained. “Only you and, of course, Dr. McRey and Brenda, know the truth of my resignation, and I didn’t think either of you were likely to say anything, so I just let things pass.” Jill rose to her feet. “It’s nearly three, Dr. McRey should be here any moment now.”
To Please the Doctor Page 14
