Nurse Trudie is Engaged

by Marjorie Norrell

  Philip let the conversation die into silence, but there was no strain about the lack of words between them. Normally, if left alone with a woman he would have been the victim of a mounting feeling of panic. What was it about this woman that had such a restful, reassuring effect upon him? Whatever it was he would like it to continue, and now it seemed an opportunity had presented itself for them to talk privately. He turned to her, praying soundlessly but sincerely for the right words, the right approach, so that he or his intentions should not be misunderstood.

  “Trudie,” he began, “I said I would like to talk to you ... privately. There is something you could do for me ... if you would. But,” he hesitated a moment, trying to choose his words with care, “if you feel I’m asking too much, if you can’t understand what’s worrying me, turn it down flat, please. Don’t pretend.”

  “I won’t need to pretend if there is anything I can do to help you,” she said softly, but with such purpose that he had to believe her. “Try and tell me what this is all about.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Philip would never have believed it could be so hard to choose exactly the right words. Not looking at her, but instead staring ahead at the now cheerfully blazing fire that Mrs. Emma had replenished with fresh logs and pine cones, he began.

  “What was your first thought—if you gave any thought to the matter at all—when you heard I’d been appointed superintendent at the extension?” he asked.

  “Of course I had thoughts about it,” she said, quietly and obviously sincerely. “We all did, thoughts and speculations, too; and although none of us knew whether or not you’d applied, all of us were certain that if you had you were the right choice.”

  “All of us?” Philip asked curiously. “The family, you mean?”

  “Good heavens, no!” She was laughing, but the laughter was gentle and kind. “I’m referring to the nursing staff,” she assured him.

  “And when you knew?” Philip pressed the point.

  “That you’d received the appointment? We were delighted, though sorry it meant you’d be leaving St. Catherine’s. I’m speaking for myself, of course,” she amended hastily. “I can’t really speak with authority for the entire nursing staff, but I think if a census were taken almost everyone would say exactly the same. With the addition,” she dimpled, “that most of them wanted to switch to the extension at once, and they’ll all be green with envy when they know I’m really going there.”

  “I see.” For a moment she thought she had displeased him as he made no further comment; then, abruptly, he said, “You didn’t ... speculate on my private feelings on the matter and what difference, if any, it might make to me?” he inquired. “Apart from the obvious one of working in a new building, away from all the accustomed clatter and clutter that seems to be part of life at St. Catherine’s.”

  “No.” Trudie’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Should I have?” she asked. “I mean ... it’s obvious. You’ll be in charge at the extension. Your own boss, as it were, apart from the management board. I didn’t know then you had opened new consulting rooms at Thrackwaite. I only saw the announcement in the local paper a few minutes ago when I was looking through it to see what was ‘doing’ in and around the village.”

  “Then you can honestly tell me you didn’t wonder about my ... private life, how this would affect it and all that sort of thing?” Philip could scarcely believe his ears, and yet there was no reason to doubt Trudie’s words.

  “Of course not,” she assured him emphatically. “It isn’t any business of mine or anyone else’s what you do with your private life, as far as I can see.”

  “I wish other people had the sense to think along those lines.” Philip’s tone was so heartfelt that she turned to him instinctively to offer comfort, but he was still not looking at her. His gaze was even now fixed on the flickering flames, and his expression was grave, almost forbidding. Her words died unsaid. “Do you know,” Philip burst out suddenly, “that the first two people to congratulate me at St. Catherine’s had ideas for my future?”

  “What sort of ideas?” Trudie demanded as he paused and did not seem inclined to elaborate.

  “The first person said that the public expected people in our profession to be married,” Philip stated baldly. “He also threw out ... hints. Gossip. The second person said she expected everyone would now be awaiting the announcement that I was engaged to Ursula. Were you expecting that announcement, Trudie?” he asked directly.

  “I ... we ... no,” she added finally, the color flying to her cheeks as she remembered the countless arguments she and Mary Anderson had had on this very subject. “As I said,” she rushed on, “it isn’t any of my business.”

  “Why weren’t you expecting such an announcement?” Philip pressed ruthlessly. He felt she was telling the truth, but there had to be a reason for the flat statement.

  “Ursula’s a wonderful person in lots of ways,” Trudie chose her words carefully, “and she’s helped a number of people, but somehow I don’t see you two together. She always wants to ... lead, decide things.”

  “I know.” Philip smiled at Trudie’s summation of the other woman. “As you say, she is wonderful. She’s just the right sort of person for someone who has brains and ideas, but not the forcefulness to get them accepted where it will do him the most good. Someone like Geoff, for instance.”

  “Geoff thinks she’s marvelous,” Trudie admitted, conceding the point, “and so she would be ... for him. But we’re talking about you.”

  “So we are.” Philip smiled, some of the tension leaving him as he realized that, after all, it might not be too difficult to persuade Trudie to see his point. “And so, apparently, are several other people in and around St. Catherine’s. Only one was kind enough to offer me advice that might work. I’d like your opinion.”

  “I’ll give it,” Trudie promised, “willingly enough, if you think it of any value.”

  For the first time since he began this somewhat lengthy explanation as to what was worrying him, Philip turned and looked directly at her. There was no guile in the violet-blue eyes that regarded him now so gravely, nothing of the flirt’s provocative smile on her generous mouth. There was sympathy, friendly understanding and a genuine desire to help, or so Philip felt. Again that feeling of reassurance swept over him so that he felt more confident in what he had to say next.

  “Dora Stacey pointed out that as I am ... unattached and free of entanglements, I’m what she termed ‘fair game’ for anyone. She suggested that my best form of protection would be a ‘nice, safe engagement to someone as dedicated to her own work as I am to mine.’ I didn’t know where I’d find someone like that until today,” he said quietly. “I’m speaking of yourself, Trudie. You love your work. You excel at it, your family background abounds in the kind of work we both do and want to do. You haven’t any false ideas about the glamor of working in a hospital as so many people have, and you know that the district nurses and midwives, the local doctor like your father and many others like him, are as important a part of the medical profession as the higher-ups whose names are household words at times.”

  “I ... I agree with all you say, of course.” Trudie was not at all sure where this conversation was leading to, or if he was really intending to mean what she suspected. But if she were wrong she would look a fool, and he would at once class her as one of the people who thought him “fair game.” She must know more of what was in his mind before she committed herself further. “But I’m not at all sure I understand what you’re trying to say.”

  “I’m not surprised!” Suddenly, and to her relief, Philip laughed with genuine amusement. “I’m putting this very badly,” he apologized. “Do you mind if I smoke? I’m a little out of my depths myself.”

  “By all means,” Trudie nodded and surprised him by accepting a cigarette. She had refused to smoke all afternoon and evening. “I do indulge occasionally,” she told him, noting his surprise. “And this is one of the occasions.”

&
nbsp; Philip resumed, looking directly at her as if compelling her to be truthful and to hide nothing from him.

  “Tell me, Trudie,” he began, “and please don’t hesitate to say what you mean, not what you think I want to know. Have you anyone in whom you’re especially interested? Any ... boyfriend or whatever the current phrase is nowadays?”

  “No,” Trudie said instantly and truthfully. “I don’t really have very much time.” She sounded as though she were excusing herself. “I’ve really only just finished all my exams and things, you know.”

  “That’s true of Nurse Anderson—she’s your special friend, isn’t she?” Philip said. “But she manages to have plenty of men friends around most of the time.”

  “I’m not like that.” Trudie blushed again and was annoyed with herself. “I’m not a prude ... it’s just—” she made a small, hesitant gesture “—I don’t know how to explain it ... but there’s always so much else. I suppose one day...”

  “That’s exactly what Dora said to me.” Philip burst out excitedly. “ ‘One day,’ she said, ‘you will find one who really matters. In the meantime you need a nice safe engagement to someone who doesn’t want to rush off to the altar in a blaze of white satin.’ You wouldn’t want to do that, would you, Trudie?”

  “Only if I was deeply in love with someone who loved me as much,” Trudie said honestly. “I’m all right as I am.”

  “Then will you?” Philip was not choosing his words now. He could hear Dr. Hislop approaching from his office, and he wanted this thing over and done without having to bring the subject up again. “Will you be the other half of my ‘nice safe engagement’ and provide the anchor and protection I need, as I will for you? There’s only one proviso,” he cautioned. “If you do meet anyone you feel you really love, tell me. There’d be no other obligation, no strings ... and only you and I will ever know the truth of the matter—a secret we can both keep the rest of our days.”

  Trudie stared at him in open disbelief, but she was greatly tempted. To go around wearing Philip’s ring, letting the world believe they were a devoted engaged couple, would be rapture; but because it was false it would be an uneasy rapture in which, she felt, she would never feel safe.

  “Trudie ... please!” She looked at him, as her glance met his own and was held there. It had obviously worried him to ask this kind of help from any woman, and the hurdle could not have been an easy one. The final pleading “Trudie, please,” won the day. Impulsively she laid her hand on his, as though making a pledge.

  “All right,” she said in a small voice. “We’ll try it. We can always ... pretend we had a quarrel or something if we find it doesn’t work out.”

  For a moment Philip stared at her without speaking, and Trudie had the wild idea that he was about to kiss her, so great was his relief. She would never know how close her guess had been to the truth, or that Philip had experienced great difficulty in restraining himself from leaning forward and planting a grateful kiss on that soft, gentle mouth. As it was he swallowed hard and said briefly, “Bless you, Trudie. I’ll never let you regret it, and remember, if you do meet someone who seems to be ‘the only one in the world’ for you, you’re to tell me at once. You’re under no obligation whatsoever.”

  “Nor are you,” Trudie hastened to say. “This is just what you said it should be, a nice safe ... anchor. A protection.”

  “There’ll be no necessity to worry about that,” Philip said with complete assurance. “I’m not likely to go overboard for anyone. Women frighten the life out of me, unless they’re patients—and sometimes even then. I can never understand them ... they baffle me. I’m not likely to find one I’d like to share my life with for years and years to come, if ever. You’ll be tired of this arrangement long before I am, I’m afraid.”

  Trudie was spared the necessity of a reply as her father popped his head around the door to announce that he was about to drive Miller home and that he would make the two necessary evening calls on his way home.

  “Hope you’ll still be here,” he added to Philip before he left. “I won’t be very long, and I’ve really enjoyed talking to you.”

  “I expect I’ll be here,” Philip smiled, “unless Trudie seems tired and would like me to leave.”

  Having been assured by Trudie that she was not in the least tired and that she could lie there on the sofa all night and talk, Dr. Hislop departed, leaving them alone again. Suddenly Philip looked troubled.

  “That’s the most awful part of this business,” he said slowly. “Your father is such a grand chap, and your brothers too, and I shall have to ask your father for his consent to our engagement. He’ll think it’s genuine and, I hope, be pleased to agree ... and I shall feel the most awful liar and cheat who ever lived!”

  “Don’t worry so much,” Trudie advised, wiser than her years. “We’re doing something we both realize is necessary, if you are to have any sort of a peaceful life at all at the extension. We’re not hurting anyone, not even ourselves, and it will give Father pleasure ... while it lasts.”

  In spite of herself her voice changed a little as she admitted the knowledge that the situation would change, but she rallied immediately. “And when it’s all over, when one of us or both decides it’s time to end the game—Dad will be understanding and kind. He knows we’re both old enough to know our own minds and to judge what is best for ourselves, and he’ll accept things that way, I know.”

  “All of which is very reassuring, but it won’t stop me from feeling a liar and a cheat,” Philip asserted.

  “It must.” Trudie looked decidedly firm. “That would show on your face—you’re not that sort of person—and Dad would at once suspect something was wrong. Besides,” and here an impish smile flickered for a second and was gone, “I refuse to be engaged, even for a pretend engagement, to anyone who considers himself to be—what was it you said?—a liar and a cheat.”

  In spite of himself Philip found himself laughing with her, and they were still laughing as Malcolm returned.

  “What’s the joke?” he demanded, coming to stand before the fire and warm his hands.

  “It isn’t funny really,” Trudie began as she could see Philip was momentarily at a loss for words. “Philip has just asked me to be engaged to him,” and her use of his first name was so completely natural that Malcolm, shrewd as he was, did not suspect a thing, “and we were rehearsing the best possible way to ask for Dad’s consent. All the formal words sound so funny and the informal ones don’t sound right.”

  “There’s no necessity to be formal, as you term it, with Dad,” Malcolm stated. “He’d be uneasy. Just tell him the truth and see how pleased he’ll be. There’s nothing he wants so much as for us all to be happy.”

  “I know,” Trudie said quietly and, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, she placed her hand lightly over Philip’s. To his amazement he did not have his usual urge to remove his own fingers from a woman’s touch. He smiled back at her.

  “And we are happy, aren’t we, Trudie?” he asked. “I am, at any rate, and I think you are. All we need now is the family blessing.”

  “I don’t think you need worry.” Malcolm beamed at them both. “That’s Geoff coming back, I think. Dad won’t be long if he’s only taking Miller home.”

  “And making a couple of calls on his way back,” Trudie put in. Malcolm nodded.

  “One will be on Mrs. Atkinson, the one expecting her baby, and the other will be on Miss Robinson. She fell again yesterday. As usual there’s nothing definite, no broken bones or what-have-you, but she’ll have Dad out once or twice in the night unless he calls before she retires to bed and assures her everything’s fine.” He grinned at them both as he made his way to the kitchen just as Geoffrey entered. “I’ll rustle up a couple of bottles of champagne,” he said crisply. “We still have some left over from Christmas; we’re not drinking types here. Don’t know why we get so much in for the festive season. It takes us until the next one to get rid of it. Mrs. Emma’ll pol
ish up some glasses. We must do this thing properly.”

  “What thing?” Geoff demanded, but Malcolm gave an airy wave of his hand in Trudie and Philip’s direction, said they would explain, and went on his way to tell Mrs. Emma the news.

  “I ... I’m waiting to ask your father if he will consent to our—to an engagement ... between Trudie and myself,” Philip said a little stiffly; but the stiffness dissolved in the face of Geoff’s very obvious delight.

  “I’m glad,” he said so heartily that Trudie stared at him until she realized that, in common with so many people at the hospital, he might have been thinking of a possible engagement between Philip and Ursula. If that were so, no wonder he was delighted to find at least one obstacle out of his way. “Congratulations,” he went on. “Dad’ll give you his blessing, we all know that. He only wants as many people as possible to be as happy as ever they can. Always has been his philosophy, and a very good one too, in my opinion. Here he comes now,” he added as the reflection of the doctor’s car appeared. “He’ll be as pleased as Punch.”

  By the time Dr. Hislop had put the car away, taken his things into the office and done whatever he still felt he had to do there, Mrs. Emma had bustled in with shining glasses and a plate of festive cookies.

  “Maybe you don’t have these with champagne,” she beamed all around, “or maybe you do, but they’re here just the same. I know the doctor never says no to them at any time.” She turned to Philip and Trudie, her round face pinker than ever. “I would like to congratulate you both,” she said simply, “and to wish you well. I’m glad ... for Miss Trudie, but she’s a good girl, sir.”