Damsel in Green

by Betty Neels

  She was scrubbing instruments at the sink. ‘Yes, but we had an overdose in at midnight and another at five. They make a lot of extra work on the wards—the runner hasn’t had a minute.’ She rinsed the tube and funnel of the wash-out apparatus and cast him a look full of curiosity, and he said to disconcert her, ‘Yes, I’m very early, am I not? But the first overdose isn’t responding as she ought—Dr Woodrow telephoned me an hour or so ago—I think she is out of the wood now.’

  The door opened and the day nurses trooped in, with Gregg in the rear, urging them on. They looked curiously at the Professor, said good morning politely and plunged at once into the early-morning ritual of cleaning and sterilizing and making ready. Only Gregg lingered. She ignored Georgina and smiled bewitchingly at the Dutchman, conscious that her make-up was perfection and her hairstyle immaculate. She said, at her most charming, ‘Night Nurse is off duty—perhaps I can help you, sir?’

  Georgina swallowed rage. Night Nurse indeed! She was just as trained as Gregg was herself, but in the circumstances, powerless to do anything about it. The Professor wasn’t, however. He flashed her a look, and if she hadn’t known that her tired eyes were playing her false, she could have sworn that he winked. His voice, when he spoke, was silken. ‘Good for you—er—Nurse. You allude to Staff Nurse Rodman, I believe. Yes, indeed you may help, if you please. Be kind enough to take over from her at once—I have something I wish to discuss with her.’

  His smile dismissed her. Georgina found herself walking to the door rolling down her sleeves as she went, and putting on hastily snatched up cuffs. Outside in the corridor he said pleasantly, ‘I thought that we might as well divulge our plans to Cornelis; that is, if you can spare the time?’ She nodded merely, being far too busy keeping up with his long legs. Halfway up the stairs to Children’s he stopped and said apologetically, ‘I forget that I cover the ground somewhat faster than most people—and you must be tired.’

  She admitted that she was, tried to imagine him being tired himself and failed utterly. They heard Cornelis long before they saw him—apparently there was something he didn’t fancy for breakfast. He was, in fact, on the point of hurling a bowl of porridge at the attendant nurse when he saw them coming down the ward. His small, intelligent face brightened and he thrust the offending food at the nurse as he shouted a greeting at them. ‘Cousin Julius—George! How super to have you both at once. I say, George, do tell Nurse to take this beastly stuff away—I won’t eat it.’ He was peeping at his guardian as he spoke.

  The Professor said nothing at all, indeed, there was a faint smile on his face, although his brows were raised in mild enquiry. Georgina put the bowl down on the bedtable in front of Cor, and said with the cunning of one versed in the treatment of childish tantrums:

  ‘You’ll grow into a very small man, you know.’ She put the spoon in his hand. ‘Why?’

  ‘Because if you don’t eat, you don’t grow, and some things make you grow more than others. Porridge, for example. You said the other day that you intended to be as big as your guardian.’

  ‘You mean Cousin Julius?’ He was watching her under lowering brows.

  ‘Yes, I do.’

  ‘Why don’t you call him Julius?’

  ‘Well…’ she cast a look at the Professor, who was standing, hands in pockets, watching with what she considered to be unnecessary enjoyment. He said now, without looking at her, ‘You’re not being polite, Cor. In fact, you are being particularly unpleasant. You will apologise, please.’ His blue eyes surveyed his small cousin, and Georgina, watching, could see the affection in them. ‘Look old chap, we know your legs are uncomfortable and you’re hating every minute of lying strung up like this, but that’s no excuse for being rude.’ He smiled, a wide kind smile that made her heart bounce against her ribs.

  Cor smiled too. ‘Sorry, Cousin Julius,’ he said, all at once cheerful. ‘I was a rude pig, wasn’t I?’ He repeated himself, delighted with the words. ‘George, darling George, I’m truly sorry, I was a rude…’

  She interrupted him. ‘All right, Cor. We know you didn’t really mean it. Now eat up your porridge so that we can talk.’

  He started to spoon the cooling nourishment. ‘All of us?’ he enquired, his mouth full. ‘Why are you so early, Cousin Julius?’

  ‘I had some work to do here—it seemed a good idea to kill two birds with one stone.’ He caught Georgina’s expressive eye and said on a chuckle, ‘What a singularly inept remark!’

  She replaced the empty bowl with a boiled egg and some bread and butter, and sat down thankfully on the stool the Professor had fetched for her. She turned her attention to Cor and kept her eyes on him while the Professor talked.

  ‘I’ve news for you, Cor. It’s the seventeenth today—the day after tomorrow you are coming home.’ He put a large, well-kept hand, just too late to prevent the bellow of delight from Cor. ‘Let me finish—I’ve work to do, even if you haven’t, and unlike you, I’ve not yet had my breakfast; nor has Nurse. You’ll have all this rigging until after the New Year. You know that, don’t you? And there will be X-rays at intervals and Uncle Sawbones to see you from time to time. Staff Nurse Rodman will look after you.’

  Cor put down his bread and butter and stared at his guardian as though he couldn’t believe his own small ears. ‘George? Coming home with us all? Julius, you’re absolutely super. I’ll be home for Christmas…I’ll be so good…Julius, dear Cousin Julius, I love you!’

  The big man’s eyes were very kind. ‘Yes, I know, old man. We all miss you, you know—you’ll have to stay in your room; but we can all come in and out, and Miss Rodman will be with you for a great deal of the time.’

  Cor turned a starry gaze on Georgina. ‘You’ll like coming, won’t you, George?’ he asked anxiously.

  ‘I’m thrilled. I can’t think of anything I’d rather do.’ She found to her astonishment that she meant it—indeed, her delight at the prospect left her startled at its intensity. She went off into a brown study, watched by the Professor with no expression on his face at all, and by Cor with considerable bewilderment. She looked up and smiled at him, so that her tired face was touched with beauty. ‘I was just thinking of the fun we’ll have getting you on your feet again,’ she said cheerfully, and was rewarded by his grin.

  She stayed a little longer while the Professor told her his arrangements. She was to be at the ambulance bay at four o’clock on the nineteenth, with whatever luggage she would require. He politely deplored the fact that she would be unable to have a full day’s sleep, but assured her that she should go to bed as early as she wished on reaching Dalmers Place. He himself would be unable to accompany them, but Mr Sawbridge would make sure that everything was in order before they left the hospital and had agreed to be at the house by the time they arrived in order to supervise the re-erection of the Balkan frame with its attendant weights and pulleys.

  ‘Why don’t you do it, Cousin Julius?’ Cor demanded.

  ‘My dear fellow, I haven’t a clue; I daresay Staff Nurse Rodman knows more about it than I do.’ He smiled at her, and she gave an answering chuckle, well aware that he was perfectly capable of putting up twenty Balkan frames if he so had the mind. He got to his feet.

  ‘Go to bed. How thoughtless of me to keep you like this!’ His eyes searched her face. ‘We are all happy to have you with us. Beatrix is longing to see you again.’

  Georgina said quickly, ‘Oh, is she? I am glad. I wanted to write to her, but it didn’t seem—that is, I didn’t care to…’ she came to a halt awkwardly.

  ‘My dear girl, I understand, although your fears were groundless. You are the last person I would accuse of pushing yourself forward.’

  She looked relieved. ‘Beatrix didn’t think I had forgotten her?’

  ‘No,’ he assured her gravely, ‘never that.’

  She said goodbye to them then, and went first to Cas, ignoring a furious Gregg to give a brief report to Sister, and then to the dining-room, where, as she so often was, she was the last. She w
as barely seated at the table before a voice enquired, ‘What’s all this, George—dating handsome consultants in Children’s before eight o’clock in the morning!’

  Another voice chimed in, ‘Obviously he likes the early bird.’ There was a shriek of laughter, and Night Super, sitting with her sisters at the other end of the dining-room, raised her eyebrows and smiled. It was tacitly agreed that the night nurses needed to let off steam when they came off duty; she went on with her breakfast, and wished that she was with them, sharing the fun.

  Georgina spooned sugar into her tea with a lavish hand. ‘It’s my early-morning charm,’ she explained imperturbably, though her cheeks were pink. ‘There’s nothing like a red nose and wispy hair to enhance my type of good looks.’

  ‘Yes. But why choose Children’s—it’s the least romantic of places,’ asked the Night Staff from that ward. ‘Give us the facts, George.’

  Over several slices of toast, lavishly loaded with butter and marmalade, she told them. When she had finished, there was a silence lasting at least ten seconds until someone said, ‘How funny—the other day we were all taking—remember?—and George said she wasn’t sure what she wanted to do, and now it’s all cut and dried. Take some pretty clothes,’ she added.

  Georgina put down her empty cup. ‘I can’t,’ she said. ‘Professor Eyffert wants me to wear uniform all the time.’

  This announcement was met by a stunned silence. Then, ‘George, you can’t—I mean, you’re not a nun or anything—what about meals with the family? They’ll all be dolled up and you’ll be like Little Orphan Annie in a cap and Apron. You will have meals with the family, I suppose?’

  ‘I don’t know. He didn’t say. Perhaps I’ll eat alone.’ It sounded dull and lonely. ‘I’ll let you know,’ she said cheerfully, as they rose like a flock of rather bedraggled white pigeons from the table. But all the while she was getting ready for bed, the thought that she shouldn’t have agreed to nurse Cor nagged her. She finally went to sleep in the middle of a dignified and rather complicated refusal to do so, instantly forgotten, however, when she went on duty that evening and found a postcard from Beatrix which, though lacking in literary effort, left no doubt as to her delight at seeing Georgina again.

  Chapter Four

  They got to Dalmers Place just after six. It had been a slow journey, and a not very easy one, both from Georgina’s point of view and her patient’s, and now she drew a sigh of relief as the ambulance turned into an open gateway guarded by a half-timbered lodge which looked too small for occupation, but obviously was not, for the front door was flung open and a tall but bent old man, accompanied by a short stout woman, stood on the step waving vigorously. Georgina described them to Cor, who had been alternating between dozing and childish outbursts of impatience, and he brightened considerably, ‘That’s Mr Legg, our gardener, and Mrs Legg who helps in the house—we’re home, George!’

  The door stood open; there were lights everywhere and a number of people, but Georgina was fully occupied in helping the ambulance men get Cor up to his room. She was vaguely aware of a square paneled hall, with a huge fire blazing in a massive fireplace, and a great many lighted lamps, and then a broad staircase, with shallow uncarpeted stairs, giving on to a wide corridor that had steps up and steps down for no apparent reason, and a great many little passages running into it.

  Cor’s room, luckily, opened on to the corridor, and its door was wide. They came to a halt by the bed, the Balkan frame and all its attendant paraphernalia ready beside it. Cor had had his eyes shut, but now he opened them and beamed happily from a white little face. ‘This is my room, George,’ he said with such joyful pride that she was able to realize just how much it had meant to him to come home again. But there was no chance to do more than smile at him, for Mr Sawbridge, true to his promise, emerged from the window recess and advanced to meet them. Cor had seen him too.

  ‘Uncle Sawbones! How glad I am to see you, for I’m so tired and my legs hurt a little; but George says I’ve been very good and I’m to have what I fancy for supper… Where’s everyone?’ he finished anxiously.

  Dr Sawbridge wandered round the bed, taking off his jacket as he did so. ‘They’re downstairs in the sitting-room, Cor. You see, we can’t have them up here, rushing round and getting in the way, until Nurse and I have tied you up again. Wouldn’t do, would it—er—George?’

  ‘That it would not,’ she answered vigorously. ‘We might get into an awful muddle and put you back to front or sides to middle or something, and that would never do.’

  They got down to work with a good deal of laughing and joking to help along the rather tedious business of getting Cor’s thin legs exactly right and the weights exactly as they should be. At length Mr Sawbridge was satisfied. He put his jacket on again and then stood watching while Georgina lengthened the pulley hanging from the Balkan frame, so that Cor could reach it easily.

  ‘We’ll give him a night’s sleep, Staff, then we’ll get those legs X-rayed, just to make sure that our admirable work hasn’t misfired.’

  Georgina murmured, ‘Yes, sir,’ wondering about the X-ray. Surely they wouldn’t have to take Cor all the way to the nearest hospital just as they had got him settled… Mr Sawbridge caught her eye. ‘There’s a portable rigged up in the dressing-room next door—we can wheel it in when it’s wanted.’ He shook Cor’s hand and said, ‘I’m going to take Nurse away for a minute while I tell her about your legs. Lie quiet, there’s a good chap, and I’ll tell the others they can come up and see you.’

  He ushered Georgina out of the door and they stood outside in the corridor while he gave her his instructions. ‘Don’t let his brother and sisters stay too long,’ he ended. ‘He’s tired, and so are you, are you not? Supper and off to sleep for him as soon as you can manage it, Staff. I’ll be down about midday tomorrow.’

  They said goodnight, and she went back into Cor’s room and started to tidy away the considerable mess they had made while she listened to Cor’s excited voice weighing the merits of scrambled eggs and mushrooms against those of an omelette with a great deal of cheese and bacon in it. He had barely decided on the omelette when the door was flung open and Beatrix came in; she was followed by a boy of twelve or thirteen—Georgina supposed he was Franz—and a very pretty girl, with thick fair hair hanging to her shoulders and the largest blue eyes Georgina had ever seen. This would be Dimphena. She smiled at them all and said in her friendly way, ‘Hallo— I’ll leave you with Cor, only do be very careful not to bump the bed, won’t you?’ then prepared to retire to the window, where there was a small table, and make out her charts and report book; but Cor cried, ‘George, come here please, I want you to meet my brother and sisters—at least you know Beatrix already.’

  That young lady, having embraced her brother, had launched herself upon Georgina with every sign of delight. ‘George,’ she shrieked, ‘I’ve had my stitches out! Cousin Julius did it, and I didn’t cry and he gave me fifty pence, which is a great deal of money.’ She paused for breath, and Dimphena and Franz, who had been talking to Cor, chorused, ‘Beatrix, stop talking just for a minute!’ She giggled and was obligingly quiet, just long enough for Cor to make the introductions. Dimphena smiled with a shy friendliness which endeared her to Georgina immediately, and Franz gave her a wide grin which made him look very like Karel.

  ‘What shall we call you?’ he asked. ‘The children call you George, but perhaps you’d rather we didn’t—I don’t think Cousin Julius likes it very much, although he’s never said so, but when Karel told us about you he said you were called Georgina and were the prettiest nurse he had ever seen, and Cousin Julius asked him if he meant Staff Nurse Rodman, and his face was all empty like it goes when he doesn’t want us to know what he’s thinking.’

  Four pairs of eyes, all blue, stared at her, and she found herself blushing faintly, not sure why. She asked carefully, ‘What would you like to call me?’

  Cor gave her a surprised look. ‘George, of course. Fancy asking!’ The others n
odded.

  ‘Well,’ said Georgina, ‘I tell you what I’ll do. When I see your guardian I’ll ask him if he minds—I don’t suppose it matters—you can always call me Nurse Rodman when there’s anyone about.’

  ‘Of course,’ agreed Dimphena, ‘though Stephens and Mrs Stephens and Milly don’t count.’

  Georgina knitted her brows. ‘No?’ she asked. ‘Do I know who they are?’

  ‘Stephens is the butler,’ said Franz, ‘and his wife does the housekeeping and cooking, and Milly looks after the house—they’ve been here for simply ages. Will you really ask Julius?’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ Georgina replied briskly. She looked at her watch. ‘Old Saw—Mr Sawbridge said he’d rather you didn’t stay too long this evening. If someone would tell me how to get Cor’s supper…’

  Dimphena walked over to the old-fashioned brass bell handle by the fireplace.

  ‘You can tell Stephens what you want. Have you seen your room?’

  Georgina shook her head. ‘No, not yet, but I’ve not had time.’

  Dimphena flushed. ‘I’m sorry—Julius would be annoyed at the short shrift we’re giving you.’

  Georgina laughed. ‘But I’m not a guest, you know, only the nurse, and there was quite a lot to do when we arrived. Perhaps I could go and unpack while Cor is having his supper.’

  Dimphena looked rather taken aback. ‘Milly will unpack for you while we’re at dinner, but I’ll take you to your room presently, if you like.’

  She broke off as the door opened and Stephens came in. He was a small man with an ageless face and sandy hair brushed neatly over the baldness it didn’t quite conceal. His face had no expression, but his black boot-button eyes were intelligent and lively. He was accompanied by a black Labrador and two cats—the first a ginger with a decided squint and the second a rather obsequious tabby. The three animals approached the bed in single file and then stood staring at its occupant, and were only prevented from making a concerted leap on to it by the warnings, delivered in a variety of accents, by everyone in the room. Everyone, that was, but Cornelis, who shouted with delight when he saw them, and begged anyone who would listen that they might be allowed on his bed for just one minute. Georgina saw the mutinous look on his face and said, ‘One at a time, then,’ and suiting the action to the word, lifted the ginger cat on to the bed so that he might touch Cor’s cheek with a pink nose.