by Betty Neels
She took the ring off her finger and held it out. ‘You’ll always be a friend,’ she told him, ‘we had nice times together, didn’t we? But better to part now than marry and regret it afterwards. You’ll get to the top, Nigel, and you’ll get there much faster without me.’
He took the ring and put it in a pocket. He said without conceit, ‘Yes, I shall. What do your people say?’
‘I’ve not told them, but I will. Say all the right things to your mother and father, won’t you? And when you come to London look me up. When you are an eminent consultant and I’m running a hospital, we’ll meet and talk over old times.’
The relief on his face convinced her that he wasn’t going to be permanently hurt. She gave him her hand and lifted her face for his kiss.
‘All the best, Nigel, dear; when you feel like it, write to me.’
He kissed her quite heartily. ‘Of course. You’re going back now, I suppose? Sorry I haven’t the time to take you out to lunch.’
They walked to the door together and she wished him another cheerful goodbye as she went past him. He hadn’t wanted to know how she had come or how she would go and there was no point in telling him. She walked without haste down the corridor and at the end turned to wave to him but he had already disappeared.
She went out of the hospital and started to walk along the street. She didn’t much care where she was going; it wasn’t yet half-past twelve and they weren’t leaving before two o’clock, she had time to kill. She went down Rupert Street and into Colston Street and round into Park Row past the University and fetched up at length in Tyndall’s Park where she sat down, shivering a little, for it had grown chilly.
Well, she had done what she intended to do and thankfully, without doing more than temporarily bruising Nigel’s feelings. She suspected that so great was his interest in his work, that he would have little time to regret their parting. And she had to admit to herself that she was glad that she had done it now, at least she’d been honest with herself without doing any harm to anyone, the future was another matter but she wasn’t going to think about that. She sat, her mind empty, until she saw that it was time for her to go back. She had to hurry, for she hadn’t left herself much time; the professor was in the car, sitting impassively as though he had all the time in the world and she muttered excuses as he opened the door and she got in.
He didn’t say a word but started the car and drove smoothly through the streets and on to the motorway. He sent the Rolls down the fast lane before he said, ‘You’ve had no lunch. We’ll stop at a service station.’
‘I’m not hungry, thank you.’ Julia’s voice was small.
‘Then we’ll have a pot of tea.’
The service station was a few miles ahead of them; he turned into it and they got out and entered its warm stuffiness, redolent of chips and more faintly, fried onions. The place was crowded and he took her arm and steered her between the tables before he found two seats at a table for four; the other two seats were occupied by an elderly man with a straggly moustache and a pale wisp of a woman in a deplorable hat. ‘Stay there,’ counselled the professor and made his way to the counter.
He came back presently with a tray of tea and a plate of buttered tea cakes, set everything neatly on the table, and sat down opposite to her. The tea he poured was richly brown and he sugared it lavishly. ‘Drink that,’ he told her gently, and put a tea cake on the plate and put it in front of her.
She ate and drank meekly, listening with half an ear to the conversation he was enjoying with their companions. Yes, they were on their way to London, he agreed in answer to the man’s question, and yes, he agreed again, the motorway was a blessing.
‘Bin ter see the daughter,’ said the man, “ad a baby last week, she did. Nice little feller. You got kids?’ His eyes slid to Julia.
‘I have a son,’ said the professor calmly.
‘Nuthin like it,’ observed the man. ‘Kids—make life worthwhile, they do. Don’t they, Em?’
His wife nodded. ‘We’ve ‘ad six, good children, the lot of ’em.’ She turned bright friendly eyes on Julia, ‘You’ll be looking forward to adding to the family, I’ve no doubt.’
Julia went slowly pink; her smile was shy and it was the professor who answered. ‘Oh, we are—I only hope they’ll give us the pleasure your family have given you.’
‘That’s right. Well, we’ll be on our way—got ter get ter Barking and the old car don’t run all that well these days.’ He beamed at them both. ‘So long—bin nice meeting yer.’
‘Ta-ta,’ said his wife cheerfully and the professor, not to be outdone, replied ‘Ta-ta,’ and then poured the second cup.
‘Two happy people,’ he commented. ‘Feeling better?’
‘Yes, thank you. I’m quite—I’m quite all right, I enjoyed the tea. What time shall we be in London?’
He glanced at his watch. ‘A couple of hours—just in nice time to hit the rush hour.’
‘Oh, we shouldn’t have stopped—if you want to go out this evening…’
‘I’m not in any hurry. Shall we go?’
The afternoon was sliding into early dusk and the road stretched ahead, car lights weaving to and fro, intent on getting somewhere fast. Julia closed her eyes, assailed by a mixture of feelings; to be sitting beside the man she loved was bliss, it more than outweighed the uncertainty of the future, but the bliss wasn’t going to last long, tomorrow she would be back on the ward and on Tuesday morning Lauris would do his round and she would be Sister Mitchell, someone he had helped over a sticky few days. And he was so nice, she thought sleepily; he had stood up when the two people at their table had left; she had seen the delight at that small, seldom seen courtesy on the woman’s face. He could be thoroughly unpleasant too…she slept.
She didn’t wake until he stopped the car outside her flat. It took her a moment to realise where she was. ‘Oh, Lord—I’m sorry I went to sleep.’ She began to scramble upright, embarking on a muddled speech of thanks as she did so.
‘Not so fast,’ said the professor calmly. ‘I’m coming in with you.’
The flat struck chill as she opened the door although Wellington’s welcome was warm. Julia went to light the gas fire and switch on a couple of table lamps and since the professor had come right into the room with her and was pulling the curtains and filling the kettle she perforce asked him if he would like coffee.
‘I’ll see to it—you get Wellington’s supper. Is there anything to eat?’
‘Bacon and eggs and some things for salad in the fridge.’
‘Good, I’ll stay to supper if you’ll ask me?’
Julia was scooping out cat food from a tin but she paused to look at him. ‘But don’t you want to go home? I mean go out or something?’
‘No, it’s Martha’s evening out and I have no plans.’
‘Oh, I just thought…’ She caught the gleam in his eye. ‘Would eggs and bacon do?’ she added, ‘And a salad, or would you rather have scrambled eggs?’
‘Bacon and eggs will do nicely. Shall we have coffee first? Is there anything to drink?’
‘Beer—I keep a few bottles for—for Nigel.’ She bent over Wellington’s saucer. ‘And there’s some sherry in that cupboard. I haven’t any whisky or gin.’
‘Beer will be splendid.’ He made the coffee and put the tray on a small table before the fire. ‘Now tell me; you’ll feel much better when you’ve said everything out loud. Otherwise your thoughts just mill around inside your head, getting worse by the minute.’
She sipped her coffee. ‘I don’t know where to begin…I had to wait a little while and—and Nigel amazed me he was so very surprised to see me—he thought I’d gone after a job and told me to wait until next year… He suggested that we put off getting married for the time being because he wanted to concentrate on his job. So I said I thought we oughtn’t to marry at all and he was quite relieved.’ She sniffed and blew her beautiful nose, stubbornly refusing to cry. ‘We’re still friends.’
; ‘And what do you intend to do now, Julia?’
She gave him a cross look. ‘I’m sure I don’t know—I haven’t had time to think about it.’
He said decisively, ‘Then stay where you are for the moment until you can think straight.’ He refilled their coffee cups. ‘Will you promise me that, Julia?’
‘Why?’
He said patiently: ‘Because one often acts unwisely in the heat of the moment. Give yourself time, dear girl, so promise?’
‘Very well, but I’ll have to do something, I don’t think I can go on at St Anne’s.’
His ready agreement left her feeling disappointed, but he left her no time to brood.
‘I’ll make the salad if you see to the bacon and eggs,’ he offered.
Over their supper he talked about Nicholas. ‘It’s an occasional holiday the weekend after next, I must make arrangements to be free.’
‘Oh, I’d forgotten the boys will be home too—I’m glad it’s my weekend off…’ She stopped and went pink, for it sounded as though she were fishing for a lift, but apparently he hadn’t given it a thought.
‘It will be Christmas before we can turn round. We shall spend it here of course, but go to Holland for New Year—we always do. A family gathering of quite formidable proportions.’
He helped her wash up before he went, not mentioning Nigel again, but talking about the ward and his patients, keeping to the lighter side of their work again until the round on Tuesday. He told her at the door, ‘Dick’s on until Monday anyway, and it’s not take in, is it?’
The room seemed very empty after he had gone.
It had been a long day and she was tired, she went to sleep at once to wake very early and lie and worry. She was unhappy about Nigel; she might not love him anymore, but they had been close for more than two years and he was going to leave a gap in her life. She was almost sure that he would recover far more quickly than she; he had a new and absorbing job and different surroundings whereas she was going to be constantly reminded of him while she was at Anne’s. All the same she had done the right thing, she was sure of that. It was the professor who worried her most of all; it would have been so much easier if he hadn’t become so friendly and easy to talk to. True, he had his starchy moments, but even those she no longer minded; how could she when she loved him so very much. But she didn’t think that she could stay at St Anne’s, hoping each day that she would see him and knowing that to him she was the Women’s Medical ward sister who had hit a bad patch and to whom he had given a helping hand.
She got dressed and had her breakfast with Wellington beside her. She would go home on her next weekend off and talk to her mother and take her advice.
The ward was full, with several seriously ill patients; Julia was too busy to think about her own problems and since she went to midday dinner late there wasn’t much time for gossip. All the same, since several of her closer friends were there she took the bull by the horns and told them that she and Nigel had decided to break off their engagement.
‘We wouldn’t be able to marry for at least two years and I know that Nigel wanted to be free to get on with his work and get ahead.’ She added as cheerfully as she could, ‘He’s bound to be successful.’
They were all nice about it, not saying much, suggesting that she spent the evening with them at the cinema. She didn’t really want to and said feebly, ‘There’s Wellington…’
‘Go to the flat and feed him and pick us up here; we can have coffee and a sandwich before the film…’
Which passed the evening very well, and tomorrow, she reminded herself, Lauris would be doing his round and she would see him again.
He wasn’t in a good mood; his greeting was so austere; he looked at her with a detached air, just as though he couldn’t quite remember who she was so that vexation began to bubble inside her. She answered his questions about the patients with cold exactitude and presently, over coffee and biscuits, discussed the weather at length and with a lack of originality which caused Dick to look at her in some astonishment. In all the time he had known her, she had never bored him as she was now doing. He glanced at the professor and saw that something was amusing him very much although Julia had said nothing which was even faintly worthy of a smile. There was a distinct atmosphere too; at any moment, taking into account Julia’s fiery hair, the pair of them would be crossing swords. He put down his coffee cup and mentioned the severe haemoptesis in Men’s Medical and the professor got to his feet, bade Julia an icily polite good morning and left the ward.
She didn’t see him again that week. Dick did the Friday round, telling her that the professor had already left for his weekend. ‘Spending it with his son, he tells me. You’ve met him, haven’t you?’
They talked in a desultory fashion over their coffee and as he got up to go he asked: ‘Isn’t it your weekend off, Julia? Will Pat be here?’
Julia nodded. ‘Yes, there’s nothing very worrying now is there? And she’s capable of coping with anything that might turn up.’
She went home that evening, to be met by her father and driven through the chilly autumn dusk. ‘How are the boys?’ she wanted to know.
‘Splendid. They got home this morning before lunch and they haven’t stopped eating. They’re doing pretty well this term, work wise, although rugger seems to be the main interest.’
‘Nice,’ said Julia and was thankful that he hadn’t asked about Nigel.
The boys rushed to meet her, both talking at once and once Wellington was out of his basket and sitting with Gyp by the Aga and she had hugged her mother and gone up to her room to tidy herself for supper, she felt as though she had been home for ever.
As she reached the last stair Jason came into the hall. ‘There’s a surprise for you in the drawing room,’ he told her.
‘Not another dog? Gyp would never stand that?’ He shook his head, grinning at her. ‘Not Granny?’ Granny lived miles away in Essex and seldom travelled. ‘The vicar?’ she hissed in a whisper as he opened the door.
Her father was there, so were Gregory, Nicholas and the professor gathered round the long table at one end of the big room.
‘There you are, my dear,’ declared her father, ‘we’re just setting things up for a game of Scrabble after supper—you’ll play, of course.’
Nicholas had started towards her. ‘Julia, isn’t this fun? We’re staying here for the weekend, Mr Mitchell suggested it—can we go riding? Gregory says you will…’
‘Why not? How nice to see you again.’ She gave him a warm smile, ‘And what a surprise.’ They walked to the table and she said with commendable calm: ‘Hullo, Lauris.’
He came and took her hand. ‘How we do keep meeting?’ he said lightly. ‘I do hope you weren’t counting on a quiet weekend!’
‘Not with the boys at home. Don’t tell me you play Scrabble too?’
‘I’m good at it,’ he told her smugly.
They had supper then, a boisterous meal, and it wasn’t until its end that Mrs Mitchell asked during a pause in the talk: ‘Have you heard from Nigel, Julia? Does he like his job? You’ll be going to Bristol for a weekend? Perhaps he’ll change his mind about getting married…?’
Julia looked at her, her green eyes stricken but before she could speak the professor asked smoothly: ‘Have you been to Bristol lately, Mrs Mitchell? It is more changed than other cities—around the docks especially. I was there recently…’ He went on talking and Mrs Mitchell, aware that something was wrong, allowed herself to be swept into a lengthy discussion about the modernising of towns.
They left the table presently everyone helping to clear away the dishes and when Mrs Mitchell would have sent them all out of the kitchen, the men declared that they would wash up while the boys made the coffee. It was a good chance to get her mother alone and Julia took it. She urged her into her father’s study and shut the door. ‘Mother, I didn’t have a chance to tell you before—Nigel and I have broken off our engagement—Lauris was going to Bristol last week and he gave me a
lift and I spent an hour with Nigel—you see, I hadn’t heard from him and then when I did see him he wanted to put the wedding off even longer and I knew it wouldn’t work.’
Mrs Mitchell studied her daughter’s face. ‘Yes, darling. You don’t love each other any more?’
‘No, Mother.’
‘Then that’s all for the best, darling. I’m sorry because you are unhappy, but in a way I’m glad too. I’ll tell your father, presently and the boys if they ask. They never liked Nigel very much—he doesn’t play rugger.’ She added apologetically: ‘Of course, that’s a silly reason, isn’t it? That’s why they are all over Lauris; he played for his hospital…’
Julia opened her eyes. ‘Did he, now? Mother how did he get here for the weekend?’
Her mother said innocently, ‘By car, dear.’
‘Yes, Mother, but did you invite him or did he just turn up?’
Mrs Mitchell looked shocked. ‘Oh, he wouldn’t do that. Your father ‘phoned to see if Nicholas could spend the weekend with the boys and Lauris said that he had planned to come down and spend a day or two with Nicky, so your father suggested that he should come here too. I mean, that’s sensible, isn’t it, dear?’
Julia agreed and wondered silently what the professor’s fiancée thought about it.
It was impossible to be unhappy in such cheerful company; she was up early helping her mother to get breakfast and then, the household chores done she joined the three boys for a walk over the hills and after lunch they were all driven over to the stables and rode back with Jason leading the professor’s horse while he drove the car. Nicholas, being the youngest, had Star. They lost no time in getting in a ride before the early dusk. Coming home, seeing the lighted old house from the lane, Julia thought how pleasant life could be, even when things weren’t going just as one would like.
They all went to church in the morning and then rode again after one of Mrs Mitchell’s splendid Sunday dinners. The afternoon ended too soon, the boys and the professor took the horses back and Mr Mitchell drove over to bring them home again and she and Nicholas saw to Star and made much of Jane. And presently, very pretty in her tweed suit, Julia carried in the tea. They ate it round the fire in the drawing-room, crumpets, and sandwiches and a cake to cut at and endless cups to drink. The boys weren’t going back until the next day and she had heard the professor agreeing to take the boys into Salisbury in the morning, so he would be staying too, although she wasn’t sure of that. She hadn’t been alone with him for long enough to ask and she reminded herself severely that it was no concern of hers, anyway, whether he stayed or went.
