“It’s giving me awful headaches, nurse,” she confessed. “The argument goes round and round in m; mind when I ought to be asleep, and when I do go off I’m dreaming holiday camps right, left and center! We can’ go on like this! Me and Sam never had a cross word, no really, before all this. It’s just that he was so taken with the idea last year. He won’t listen when I tell him it was the novelty of the whole thing that suited him so much... ‘‘She dabbed ineffectually at her eyes. “I don’t suppose you can help, nurse, but if you could just give me something to help me get a good night’s rest...?”
“Take these tonight, with a warm drink, just before you go to bed, Mrs. Baker,” Hilary said, handing her two small white tablets. “I know you don’t want to start taking sleeping pills regularly,” she cut short the worried discourse. “You’re in a state of tension,” she explained kindly. “These will help you to relax. I realize you have cause to worry, but there’s nothing too difficult here, I feel sure. Can you look in tomorrow and tell me what sort of night you’ve had, and I’ll think about what you’ve told me and see if I can’t come up with some sort of sensible solution for you both?”
Lilian Baker smiled as she prepared to depart, but as Hilary was closing up the first-aid center again, she heard the sharp, brittle tones of Aida Everett carrying along the now deserted corridor sounding unnaturally loud in the quietude of the empty store.
“And Nurse Bell isn’t there to listen to domestic problems, Mrs. Baker!” Hilary heard. “That isn’t why she’s receiving a fine salary and a free home!”
Hilary swept out of the center, twin flags of color in her cheeks. Her hazel eyes surveyed the tall, angular form of the head buyer with an appraising stare, but her glance did not flinch from the undisguised dislike in Aida’s eyes.
“When domestic troubles are interfering with an employee’s work,” she said reasonably, “then I’m quite certain Mr. Simon will agree that if Vale’s nurse can help toward a solution, that would be fine for all concerned.”
“A sort of Citizens’ Advice Bureau as well, are you?” Aida queried insolently, but Hilary was not so easily put off. The sneer about her salary was one thing. The sneer about her accommodation was quite another!
“Perhaps,” she said quietly. “It often helps to have a second person’s point of view, you know.” Temporarily bereft of words, Aida flounced away, calling over her shoulder to Lilian Baker that Sam would be waiting. She did not speak to Hilary again that evening. Evidently she would rather not cross swords with anyone with sufficient spirit to reply to her in the manner she used to others!
Nita Dewhirst was right, Hilary reflected, locking the drugs cupboard after checking the contents a second time.
“Had a good day, nurse?” She started as Mark’s deep voice reached her from the doorway. He was smiling, and looking around with apparent satisfaction at the neat way everything was in its proper place, the record sheet filled in, the cupboards and her desk locked.
“Yes, thank you,” Hilary managed, closing the door and standing beside him. “I think I’ve helped one or two people, just a little.”
“From what I’ve heard it’s been rather more than that,” he told her. “I was going to ask if you’d care to join me for a meal in the restaurant,” he suggested, “but perhaps you’d rather go to the flat and put your feet up?”
“I’d rather go and make a strong hot cup of tea,” Hilary smiled. “Won’t you join me?” she added, speaking on impulse and not in the least expecting him to accept the invitation.
“Thanks,” he astonished her by saying without hesitation.
That first day and evening set the pattern for Hilary’s stay at Vale’s. Mark did not make a thing about seeing her safely into her flat, but she noticed with some amusement he prowled carefully about the place until he was absolutely certain everything was all right. Hilary brewed the tea and poured, and they sat chatting amicably for some minutes until someone tapped on the door.
“They’re not to begin that sort of thing!” Mark expostulated, rising to his feet and covering the small distance to the door in two short strides.
A short, sharp exclamation of surprise cut off whatever else he had been about to say, so that Hilary, rather amused by the manner in which he had apparently been prepared to defend her right to the privacy of the flat, turned to see who was there.
“Sorry if I’m interrupting,” Simon Vale’s voice seemed to boom into the flat, “but I wanted to ask Hilary how her first day had gone...”
Hilary had not ignored the opposite sex, it was simply that her training, her life as a nurse, her utter absorption in her work had left but little time for the social niceties of life. All the same, she reflected now, contrasting the more mature Simon with his slightly silvering hair and quiet manner, with the more youthful exuberance of Mark Dawson, it was pleasant to be treated as though it really mattered to someone that all was well with her small personal world.
“If there is anything further Vale’s can do to add to your comfort or to facilitate your work in any way, you have merely to let Mark here know about it and it will be attended to without delay,” Simon was saying. He paused at the door for a moment longer, then said, “I almost forgot the message I came to deliver! Grandmother would like you to visit us one evening. Would Saturday be all right? You’ll have most of the afternoon to rest,” he reminded her, referring to the fact that the store closed after lunchtime on Saturdays. Hilary accepted the invitation without hesitation.
When Simon had gone Mark looked around the small living room as though seeking an excuse to prolong his stay.
“Would you like some magazines or anything, Hilary?” he asked at length. “Those books,” he indicated a row of volumes on a shelf, “are some I had at college and I don’t think you’ll find them very interesting.”
“I’ve two library books in my case,” Hilary said with a smile. “But thanks for the offer.”
“We aim to please!” Mark said solemnly, quoting the advertising material on the Vale shopping bags, but there was a definite lightness to his step when he finally said good night, closing the door gently but firmly behind him.
Hilary relaxed when she was certain no one else would call on her that evening. She looked around, pleased with all she saw, and after a long, luxurious bath in the tiny bathroom, she made a light meal for herself.
She was, she realized in surprise, going to like being at Vale’s for a time. She wouldn’t want to work like this forever, because, she told herself scornfully, this wasn’t real work, real nursing, not the sort of work she had been trained for.
She ate her meal, thinking over the events of the day and wondering if she could have done better.
“I don’t think so, really,” she decided. Only where Lilian Baker was concerned did she frown, wondering just what advice she could give the woman in the morning.
Aida Everett might not be such a nice person, she thought, but she certainly had a point about domestic worries. Yet how to advise? That was the crucial point. Monica Dawson would have known what to say. Resolutely she set herself to imagine the problem had been presented to Monica Dawson and tried to imagine just how that down-to-earth person would have replied.
She’d have been firm, that’s one thing, Hilary reasoned. It seemed to her that Lilian Baker and her husband got along all right on most points. If that was the case, they wouldn’t want holidays apart... and if they did, there were the children to consider. She didn’t know whether she’d like them to go off on their own and anyway, a family holiday was much more economical!
She thought about the problem for a long time, then wrote her assessment of the situation carefully in her small record book. If Sam and Lilian were to agree to disagree, that would be the best thing. They could not help being two separate people with individual tastes, but as they managed, apparently, to adjust quite well to the rest of their lives, then surely they would be sensible enough to adjust to this minor point.
She would advise them
to compromise by choosing their holidays in turns, year by year. Sam Baker had chosen the holiday camp—and enjoyed it—so surely this year he could allow his wife to choose her type of holiday, secure in the knowledge that his own choice would come around again in twelve months’ time. It looked so ridiculously simple, set down like that. It appeared to be such an obvious conclusion that for a moment she wondered if it were too simple a solution. Surely they must have thought of this themselves.
If they had, Lilian wouldn’t be worrying, and she wouldn’t be missing her sleep and coming to a nurse for something to relieve the tension, Hilary reminded herself. It was often the ideas that are closest to hand that take the most finding. Anyway, that’s what she decided to suggest.
The following morning she was astonished by the grateful way Lilian Baker accepted her idea.
“I’d never have thought of that, Nurse Bell!” she said in genuine astonishment. “We’ve both been concentrating on the holiday for this year ... and never thinking of all the years ahead.”
Hilary laughed, relieved that her suggestion had evidently been received so sensibly.
“Let me know what Mr. Baker thinks of the idea,” she suggested and turned away to greet the next person waiting to see her.
The days flew by, and as she grew to know more members of staff, Hilary began to find the work really interesting. It was not that the work itself interested her, but the various people who made up the staff of Vale’s. Gradually, and because she was very interested, she came to know most of them by name.
“Upon my soul, nurse,” Simon commented on Thursday morning, “I’m beginning to wonder just how we managed without you! I know you don’t intend to stay with us any longer than one year, but I should certainly be obliged if you’d agree to instruct someone in your own way of running this part of the store. I don’t want to see the store without a medical center ever again, not while I’m in charge, that is! How long would it take to show someone the way things are run, do you suppose?”
“It would depend upon the person,” Hilary said quietly. “Any girl who’s done her full training would have no difficulty...”
“And no difficulty in finding the sort of work she really wants in almost any hospital in the country, I suppose?” Simon echoed gloomily. “And of course she’ll have to be fully trained. That’s back to square one, with a vengeance! Unless—” he looked down on her, brows beetled “—you’d like to stay on?”
“I like it here, Mr. Vale,” Hilary admitted cautiously. “I’d be an absolute idiot if I didn’t. And everyone’s so kind to me ... but it’s not the same as real nursing, you know.”
“I realize that.” Simon turned away regretfully. “But we cannot all be heroes and thrill a hemisphere” he joked. “We can’t all do the things we want to do ... not all of the time. Those who do the sort of work you’re doing now, are filling a very worthwhile niche.”
“And work I would never have contemplated, not even for a week—if you’ll forgive my saying so,” Hilary said gently, “had not Matron advised light duty for a time! There’s so much to be done.” She was suddenly so serious he was more impressed than he would have believed possible.
“It really matters to you, doesn’t it, Nurse Bell?” he asked quietly. “Your real career, I mean.”
“Very much.” Hilary was sober. “I think nursing’s the most important job in the world,” she averred solemnly. “I think there’s so much of the nurse in every woman, although we aren’t all ... I was about to say “gifted” in that direction—” she smiled slightly”—but that’s probably the wrong way to express what I mean.” She smiled. “I’m not putting this very well, but I was thinking of a girl who went to school with me. She wanted to be a nurse but her father was against the idea. Mona did have some training though, and she was good at the work. At the moment, she’s a private nurse for a local doctor but...” She broke off as an idea occurred to her. She looked at Simon, her eyes shining. “She might like a job like this,” she said quickly. “Shall I ask her?” she concluded, watching his face.
“I’d be grateful,” Simon nodded. “It doesn’t seem the proper time though, when, as you say, she is still working for this doctor, but if she’s likely to be free before long...”
“Her father wants her to work in his office,” Hilary volunteered. “He has a building contractor’s business just out of Hortown. Mona hates the office. She wants people to look after, to talk to...”
“And a job where she had more or less office hours might fit in with her father’s demands as well as her own wishes,” Simon agreed. “Yes, nurse, please ask her for me. When are you likely to see her?”
“Perhaps next week,” Hilary said briefly. “My sister comes home for half-term, and she and Mona’s older sister were friends, so she might visit Avril. If she does, she’d take a message for me to Mona.”
“And you’ll be asking your sister here for the—what did you say, half-term, wasn’t it?” Simon queried, but Hilary shook her head.
It did not take long to explain the situation, but before she had quite finished someone came to inform Simon that he was wanted on the telephone and he had to leave her.
Her conversation with Simon reminded Hilary that Iris would be arriving on Friday evening, so just before closing time that day she dropped into the store’s grocery department, leaving an order that she intended to take home with her on Friday evening. There was no thought of deception in her mind when she allowed Mark to escort her to the flat—this was now, apparently, an established custom—but she did mention she was going out very shortly and was a little astonished when he seemed hurt. Not until she was almost home did she realize he might have believed she intended to keep a date and felt she had pushed him off in consequence, but then her natural common sense asserted itself and made her laugh inwardly.
She’d be imagining he’d fallen for her next, she told herself firmly. How stupid could one get? Just because he was friendly and polite, tried to take care of her, and ... because he was Monica’s brother! All the more reason, she told herself firmly, that she should explain there was no need to come to the flat any evening for the next week, since she would be sleeping at home, in the bedroom she and Iris had shared for years.
There wasn’t any reason at all why Mark should not have been told, but on Saturday, after the store had closed and he had accompanied her to the flat, shared a cup of tea with her as was now part of the ritual, she said nothing of Iris’s arrival on the previous evening.
“You’re going to the Vales’ tonight, aren’t you?” Mark asked as he stirred his tea. “Grandmother Vale takes a very personal interest in everyone who comes to work here! Don’t let her scare you. When one gets to know her, she’s kindness itself. When I first came here...”
He launched into a brief, lighthearted story of how he was “summoned to the presence” and “vetted,” proudly reporting that Simon had said he had passed with flying colors. It was interesting and informative and listening, Hilary felt she could share old Mrs. Vale’s enthusiasm for the young manager of the family store. But even so, for some reason she couldn’t analyze, she could not bring herself to mention her sister’s arrival to him.
Hilary had often seen Cresta, the home of the Vale family, as she rode by on a bus or in a car.
Now, driving between the ornamental columns that stood on each side of the wide driveway, she looked about with interest. The driveway curved gracefully, and the smooth surface of the private roadway was flanked by carefully trimmed rosebushes, which, she could well imagine, would be a beautiful sight when the warmer weather arrived.
In the pale February sunshine, clusters of white snowdrops were in flower at the foot of each rosebush, and the blue of small grape hyacinths, the gold of the early crocus flowers, made a strikingly beautiful contrast.
All too quickly, or so it seemed, the taxi drew up before the stout-looking oak door, but before she could put out her hand to ring the bell the door opened and a middle-aged woman, trim
and neat-looking, was smiling a welcome.
“Nurse Bell?” she asked quietly as she invited Hilary indoors. “I’m Miss Lusty, the housekeeper. Mrs. Vale is waiting for you in the lounge. This way, please, nurse.”
Hilary found herself being conducted through a wide, pleasant hall.
“Nurse Bell,” Miss Lusty announced. Hilary walked through the door the woman had opened for her, pausing until the white-haired figure seated on the low sofa in front of the glowing fire held out a hand in welcome.
“Come in, nurse, please!” Laura Vale had never consented to have the beautiful jet black hair, which had been her pride when she was a girl, shortened to meet with present-day fashions. Although it now held a more than faint sprinkling of gray, it was a still abundant and coiled as neatly about her small head, set so proudly on the absurdly straight shoulders, as it had ever been.
“Do sit down.” She patted the place beside her invitingly. “Kate will bring in tea in a few moments—unless, of course, you would prefer a sherry instead?”
“Tea will be lovely, thank you,” Hilary said sincerely, adding spontaneously, “What a lovely room!”
“I think so, too,” Laura agreed, well pleased. “I planned it, of course, but that was years ago. I always like to have it decorated along the same lines, however. It is such a beautifully proportioned place I feel it needs exactly the same sort of treatment—or almost the same—year by year.”
“It’s charming,” Hilary’s tone was very sincere, and she looked with more than normal admiration at the delicate features of the older woman. “You obviously have a gift for interior decorating!” she concluded lightly.
“And I interfere in the gardens, as well,” Laura said, her dark eyes twinkling with a surprising gaiety. “Pearson—he’s the gardener-cum-odd-job-man—does not always care for my suggestions, but he follows them, and usually comes round to approving when the plants are in flower. The roses,” she admitted frankly, “are his favorites, and he cares for them well, but a garden needs more than roses, unless it happens to be the showpiece of a firm of rose-growers!”
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