A Christmas Romance

by Betty Neels

  ‘The dining room,’ said the professor as she crossed the hall. It was a small room, simply furnished with a round table, chairs and a sideboard, and all of them, she noted, genuine pieces in dark oak.

  ‘And this is my study.’ She glimpsed a small room with a desk and chair and rows of bookshelves.

  The stairs were small and narrow and led to a square landing. There were three bedrooms, one quite large and the others adequate, and a bathroom. The cottage might be old but no expense had been spared here. She looked at the shelves piled with towels and all the toiletries any woman could wish for.

  ‘Fit for a queen,’ said Theodosia.

  ‘Or a wife …’

  Which brought her down to earth again. ‘Oh, are you thinking of getting married?’

  ‘Indeed, I am.’

  She swallowed down the unhappiness which was so painful that it was like a physical hurt. ‘Has she seen this cottage? She must love it …’

  ‘Yes, she has seen it and I think that she has found it very much to her taste.’

  She must keep on talking. ‘But you won’t live here? You have your house in London.’

  ‘We shall come here whenever we can.’

  ‘The garden is lovely. I don’t suppose you have much time to work in it yourself.’

  ‘I make time and I have a splendid old man who comes regularly, as well as Mrs Trump who comes every day when I’m here and keeps an eye on the place when I’m not.’

  ‘How nice,’ said Theodosia inanely. ‘Should I go and see if Gustavus is all right?’

  He was sitting by his basket looking very composed, ignoring the two dogs who were cavorting around the garden.

  ‘It’s as though he’s been here all his life,’ said Theodosia. She looked at the professor. ‘It’s that kind of house, isn’t it? Happy people have lived in it.’

  ‘And will continue to do so. Wait here; I’ll fetch the food.’

  They sat at the kitchen table eating their lunch; there was soup in a Thermos; little crusty rolls filled with cream cheese and ham, miniature sausage rolls, tiny buttery croissants and piping hot coffee from another Thermos. There was food for the animals as well as a bottle of wine. Theodosia ate with the pleasure of a child, keeping up a rather feverish conversation. She was intent on being cool and casual, taking care to talk about safe subjects—the weather, Christmas, the lighter side of her work at the hospital. The professor made no effort to change the subject, listening with tender amusement to her efforts and wondering if this would be the right moment to tell her that he loved her. He decided it was not, but he hoped that she might begin to do more than like him. She was young; she might meet a younger man. A man of no conceit, he supposed that she thought of him as a man well past his first youth.

  They went round the garden after lunch with Gustavus in Theodosia’s arms, the dogs racing to and fro, and when the first signs of dusk showed they locked up the little house, stowed the animals in the car and began the drive back to London.

  They had reached the outskirts when the professor’s bleeper disturbed the comfortable silence. Whoever it was had a lot to say but at length he said, ‘I’ll be with you in half an hour.’ Then he told Theodosia, ‘I’ll have to go to the hospital. I’ll drop you off on the way. I’m sorry; I had hoped that you would have stayed for supper.’

  ‘Thank you, but I think I would have refused; I have to get ready for work tomorrow—washing and ironing and so on.’ She added vaguely, ‘But it’s kind of you to invite me. Thank you for a lovely day; we’ve enjoyed every minute of it!’ Which wasn’t quite true, for there had been no joy for her when he’d said that he was going to get married.

  When they reached Mrs Towzer’s she said, ‘Don’t get out; you mustn’t waste a moment …’

  He got out all the same without saying anything, opened the door for her, put Gustavus’s basket in the hall and then drove away with a quick nod.

  ‘And that is how it will be from now on,’ muttered Theodosia, climbing the stairs and letting herself into her cold bed-sitter. ‘He’s not likely to ask me out again, but if he does I’ll not go. I must let him see that we have nothing in common; it was just chance meetings and those have to stop!’

  She got her supper—baked beans on toast and a pot of tea—fed a contented Gustavus and presently went to bed to cry in comfort until at last she fell asleep.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  THE week began badly. Theodosia overslept; Gustavus, usually so obedient, refused to come in from the roof; and the coil of ginger hair shed pins as fast as she stuck them in. She almost ran to work, to find Miss Prescott, despite the fact that it would be Christmas at the end of the week, in a worse temper than usual. And as a consequence Theodosia did nothing right. She dropped things, spilt things, muddled up diet sheets and because of that went late to her dinner.

  It was cottage pie and Christmas pudding with a blindingly yellow custard—and on her way back she was to call in at Women’s Medical and collect two diet sheets for the two emergencies which had been admitted. Because it was quicker, although forbidden, she took the lift to the medical floor and when it stopped peered out prudently before alighting; one never knew, a ward sister could be passing.

  There was no ward sister but the professor was standing a few yards away, his arm around a woman. They had their backs to her and they were laughing and as Theodosia looked the woman stretched up and kissed his cheek. She wasn’t a young woman but she was good-looking and beautifully dressed.

  Theodosia withdrew her head and prayed hard that they would go away. Which presently they did, his arm still around the woman’s shoulders, and as she watched, craning her neck, Women’s Medical ward door opened, Sister came out and the three of them stood talking and presently went into the ward.

  Theodosia closed the lift door and was conveyed back to Miss Prescott’s office.

  ‘Well, let me have those diet sheets,’ said that lady sharply.

  ‘I didn’t get them,’ said Theodosia, quite beside herself, and, engulfed in feelings she hadn’t known she possessed, she felt reckless. ‘I went late to dinner and I should have had an hour instead of the forty minutes you left me. Someone else can fetch them. Why don’t you go yourself, Miss Prescott?’

  Miss Prescott went a dangerous plum colour. ‘Theodosia, can I believe my ears? Do you realise to whom you speak? Go at once and get those diet sheets.’

  Theodosia sat down at her desk. There were several letters to be typed, so she inserted paper into her machine and began to type. Miss Prescott hesitated. She longed to give the girl her notice on the spot but that was beyond her powers. Besides, with all the extra work Christmas entailed she had to have help in her office. There were others working in the department, of course, but Theodosia, lowly though her job was, got on with the work she was familiar with.

  ‘I can only assume that you are not feeling yourself,’ said Miss Prescott. ‘I am prepared to overlook your rudeness but do not let it occur again.’

  Theodosia wasn’t listening; she typed the letters perfectly while a small corner of her brain went over and over her unexpected glimpse of the professor. With the woman he was going to marry, of course. He would have been showing her round the hospital, introducing her to the ward sisters and his colleagues, and then they would leave together in his car and go to his home …

  As five o’clock struck she got up, tidied her desk, wished an astonished Miss Prescott good evening and went home. The bed-sitter was cold and gloomy; she switched on the lamps, turned on the fire, fed Gustavus and made herself a pot of tea. She was sad and unhappy but giving way to self-pity wasn’t going to help. Besides, she had known that he was going to marry; he had said so. But she must avoid him at the hospital …

  She cooked her supper and presently went to bed. She had been happy, allowing her happiness to take over from common sense. She had no doubt that sooner or later she would be happy again; it only needed a little determination.

  So now, instead of hoping to
meet him as she went round the hospital, she did her rounds with extreme caution. Which took longer than usual, of course, and earned Miss Prescott’s annoyance. It was two days later, sharing a table with other latecomers from the wards and offices, that the talk became animated. It was a student nurse from Women’s Medical who started it, describing in detail the companion Professor Bendinck had brought to see the ward. ‘She was gorgeous, not very young, but then you wouldn’t expect him to be keen on a young girl, would you? He’s quite old …’

  Theodosia was about to say that thirty-five wasn’t old—a fact she had learned from one of her dancing partners at the ball—and even when he was wearing his specs he still looked in his prime. But she held her tongue and listened.

  ‘She was wearing a cashmere coat and a little hat which must have cost the earth, and her boots …!’ The nurse rolled expressive eyes. ‘And they both looked so pleased with themselves. He called her “my dear Rosie”, and smiled at her. You know, he doesn’t smile much when he’s on his rounds. He’s always very polite, but sort of reserved, if you know what I mean. I suppose we’ll be asked to fork out for a wedding present.’

  A peevish voice from the other end of the table said, ‘Those sort of people have everything; I bet he’s loaded. I wonder where he lives?’

  Theodosia wondered what they would say if she told them.

  ‘Oh, well,’ observed one of the ward clerks. ‘I hope they’ll be happy. He’s nice, you know—opens doors for you and says good morning—and his patients love him.’

  Someone noticed the time and they all got up and rushed back to their work.

  Two more days and it would be Christmas Eve and she would be free. Her presents for the aunts were wrapped, her best dress brushed and ready on its hanger, her case already half packed with everything she would need for the weekend, Gustavus’s favourite food in her shoulder bag. She should be able to catch a late-afternoon train, and if she missed it there was another one leaving a short while later. She would be at the aunts’ well before bedtime.

  She was almost at the hospital entrance on her way home that evening when she saw the professor. And he had seen her, for he said something to the house doctor he was talking to and began to walk towards her.

  Help, thought Theodosia. She was so happy to see him that if he spoke to her she might lose all her good sense and fling herself at him.

  And help there was. One of the path lab assistants, the one who had danced with her at the ball, was hurrying past her. She caught hold of his arm and brought him to a surprised halt.

  ‘Say something,’ hissed Theodosia. ‘Look pleased to see me, as though you expected to meet me.’

  ‘Whatever for? Of course I’m pleased to see you, but I’ve a train to catch …’

  She was still holding his sleeve firmly. The professor was very close now, not hurrying, though; she could see him out of the corner of her eye. She smiled up at her surprised companion. She said very clearly, ‘I’ll meet you at eight o’clock; we could go to that Chinese place.’ For good measure she kissed his cheek and, since the professor was now very close, wished him good evening. He returned her greeting in his usual pleasant manner and went out to his car.

  ‘Whatever’s come over you?’ demanded the young man from the path lab. ‘I mean, it’s all very well, but I’ve no intention of taking you to a Chinese restaurant. For one thing my girl wouldn’t stand for it and for another I’m a bit short of cash.’ He goggled at her. ‘And you kissed me!’

  ‘Don’t worry, it was an emergency. I was just pretending that we were keen on each other.’

  He looked relieved. ‘You mean it was a kind of joke?’

  ‘That’s right.’ She looked over his shoulder and caught a glimpse of the Bentley turning out of the forecourt. ‘Thanks for helping me out.’

  ‘Glad I could help. A lot of nonsense, though.’

  He hurried off and Theodosia walked back to her bed-sitter, then told Gustavus all about it. ‘You see,’ she explained, ‘if he doesn’t see me or speak to me, he’ll forget all about me. I shan’t forget him but that’s neither here nor there. I daresay he’ll have a holiday at Christmas and spend it with her. She’s beautiful and elegant, you see, and they were laughing together …’ Theodosia paused to give her nose a good blow. She wasn’t going to cry about it. He would be home by now, sitting in his lovely drawing room, and Rosie would be sitting with him.

  Which is exactly what he was doing, George and Max at his feet, his companion curled up on a sofa. They were both reading, he scanning his post, she leafing through a fashion magazine. Presently she closed it. ‘You have no idea how delightful it is to have the whole day to myself. I’ve spent a small fortune shopping and I can get up late and eat food I haven’t cooked myself. It’s been heaven.’

  The professor peered at her over his specs. ‘And you’re longing to see James and the children …’

  ‘Yes, I am. It won’t be too much for you having us all here? They’ll give you no peace—it will be a houseful.’ She added unexpectedly, ‘There’s something wrong, isn’t there? You’re usually so calm and contained, but it’s as though something—or someone?—has stirred you up.’

  ‘How perceptive of you, my dear. I am indeed stirred—by a pair of grey eyes and a head of ginger hair.’

  ‘A girl. Is she pretty, young? One of your house doctors? A nurse?’

  ‘A kind of girl Friday in the diet department. She’s young—perhaps too young for me—perhaps not pretty but I think she is beautiful. And she is gentle and kind and a delight to be with.’ He smiled. ‘And her hair really is ginger; she wears it in a bunch on top of her head.’

  His sister had sat up, the magazine on the floor. ‘You’ll marry her, Hugo?’

  ‘Yes, if she will have me. She lives in a miserable attic room with a cat and is to spend Christmas with her only family—two great-aunts. I intend to drive her there and perhaps have a chance to talk …’

  ‘But you’ll be here for Christmas?’

  ‘Of course. Perhaps I can persuade her to spend the last day of the holiday here.’

  ‘I want to meet her. Pour me a drink, Hugo, and tell me all about her. How did you meet?’

  The following day the professor did his ward rounds, took a morning clinic, saw his private patients in the afternoon and returned to the hospital just before five o’clock. He had made no attempt to look for Theodosia during the morning—he had been too busy—but now he went in search of her. He hadn’t been unduly disturbed by the sight of her talking to the young fellow from the path lab. After all, she was on nodding terms with almost everyone in the hospital, excluding the very senior staff, of course. But he had heard her saying that she would meet him that evening; moreover, she had kissed him. He had to know if she had given her heart to the man; after all, he was young and good-looking and she had never shown anything other than friendliness with himself.

  He reviewed the facts with a calm logic and made his way to the floor where Theodosia worked.

  She came rushing through the door then slithered to a halt because, of course, he was standing in her way. Since he was a big man she had no way of edging round him.

  ‘Oh, hello,’ said Theodosia, and then tried again. ‘Good evening, Professor.’

  He bade her good evening, too, in a mild voice. ‘You’re looking forward to Christmas? I’ll drive you to Finchingfield. The trains will be packed and running late. Could you manage seven o’clock?’

  She had time to steady her breath; now she clutched at the first thing that entered her head. On no account must she go with him. He was being kind again. Probably he had told his fiancée that he intended to drive her and Rosie had agreed that it would be a kindness to take the poor girl to these aunts of hers. She shrank from kindly pity.

  ‘That’s very kind of you,’ said Theodosia, ‘but I’m getting a lift—he’s going that way, staying with friends only a few miles from Finchingfield.’ She was well away now. ‘I’m going to a party there—partie
s are such fun at Christmas, aren’t they?’ She added for good measure, ‘He’ll bring me back, too.’

  She caught the professor’s eye. ‘He works in the path lab …’

  If she had hoped to see disappointment on his face she was disappointed herself. He said pleasantly, ‘Splendid. You’re well organised, then.’

  ‘Yes, I’m looking forward to it; such fun …’ She was babbling now. ‘I must go—someone waiting. I hope you have a very happy Christmas.’

  She shot away, racing down the stairs. He made no attempt to follow her. That he was bitterly disappointed was inevitable but he was puzzled, too. Theodosia had been altogether too chatty and anxious to let him know what a splendid time she was going to have. He could have sworn that she had been making it up as she went along … On the other hand, she might have been feeling embarrassed; she had never been more than friendly but she could possibly be feeling awkward at not having mentioned the young man from the path lab.

  He went back to his consulting rooms, saw his patients there and presently went home, where his manner was just as usual, asking after his sister’s day, discussing the preparations for Christmas, for Rosie’s husband and the two children would be arriving the next morning. And she, although she was longing to talk about Theodosia, said nothing, for it was plain that he had no intention of mentioning her.

  And nor did he make any attempt to seek her out at the hospital during the following day. There was a good deal of merriment; the wards looked festive, the staff were cheerful—even those who would be on duty—and those who were able to left early. The professor, doing a late round, glanced at his watch. Theodosia would have left by now for it was almost six o’clock. He made his way to the path lab and found the young man who had been talking to Theodosia still there.

  ‘Not gone yet?’ he asked. ‘You’re not on duty over the weekend, are you?’