by Betty Neels
`Yes, indeed you have,' agreed the professor. After that, she could think of nothing further to say. When he stopped outside the Sisters' Home, he said merely: `Stay where you are,' and got out and walked round the car and opened the door. The snow had piled up; he didn't seem to notice that it was covering his thin evening shoes. He leaned down and whisked her out of her seat and over the drift, on to the doorstep, and set her gently on her feet. He rang the bell.
`You are a goose, aren't you?'
His voice was the calm one he used on his more contrary patients. Adelaide blinked, her eyes suspiciously bright. He wasn't angry, he wasn't even annoyed. He had not, in fact, wasted any feelings on her at all. She said good night in a subdued voice and went inside, where she met Zuster Zijlstra coming out of the sitting room. The big girl looked at her with astonishment.
`Adelaide, where have you been?' Her big blue eyes explored her friend's deplorable state.
`I got caught in the snow-storm.' Adelaide spoke gaily. `I want a bath and a huge meal.'
They went laughing upstairs together, and at supper Adelaide, using the mixture of English and Dutch the other Sisters managed to understand, gave them all an amusing and not quite accurate account of her evening.
It didn't seem so funny when she was in bed. She looked at her watch. For the professor the night would still be young. She pictured him at the Amstel Hotel, dancing, she supposed, with Freule Keizer. She remembered his thin shoes in the snow, and went suddenly to sleep half way through an improbably day-dream in which he had contracted pneumonia from wet feet, and she had saved his life by her devoted nursing.
The professor showed no signs of pneumonia the following morning, however. He came into the clinic, looking in the best of health, at exactly nine o' clock. There was a nurse off sick, and he had to wait until Adelaide and Nurse Eisink fetched the first two children. Adelaide settled a tired-looking woman into the chair by the professor's desk, and started to peel off the numerous woolly garments of the very young baby she had brought in. The professor put down the out-patient card he was reading.
`Someone off sick, Sister?'
She paused in the process of unbuttoning. 'Zuster Steensma, sir. She caught cold yesterday.'
He put the card down.
'Zuster Steensma does not appear to enjoy your iron constitution, Sister Peters.'
Adelaide disentangled the rest of the baby from its clothes, rolled it neatly in a blanket and gave it back to its mother. She glanced towards the desk, and he gave her a friendly smile.
`And an iron constitution is one of the least of your many attributes.'
She blushed. He must have overhead Margriet on the previous evening. The day, which had begun rather badly, suddenly took a turn for the better.
CHAPTER FOUR
TOWARDS the end of January the weather became very cold. Frost sparkled everywhere and the canals were covered with ice. Within three days, the first skaters appeared. The nurses hurried off duty in anoraks and slacks, their skates slung around their necks, making for the nearest canal. The skating went on until after dark when lights shone across the ice, hot chestnut and potato chip stalls sprang up like magic and did a roaring trade. The Dutch were enjoying one of their favourite sports.
Casualty became crowded with children with cracked collar bones and wrists and ankles. The nurses recounted tales of their prowess on the ice to Adelaide; they were all anxious that she should learn to skate. It was so easy, they explained; all you needed was a strong skater to hold you up while you found your feet and got your balance. They suggested several people who might teach her, but warned her jokingly not to accept any offer of help from Professor Van Essen; he was an expert on skates who, while tolerant of beginners, didn't care to waste his time on them. Dr Beekman, who had come in while they were chattering, agreed that the professor was very good indeed, and he couldn't imagine him wanting to teach anyone.
Adelaide could think of nothing she would like better than to be taught to skate by the professor, but it was obvious that if she were to wait for him to offer to do so, she was unlikely to set foot on the ice at all. It was unfortunate that the professor should choose that morning to ask her if she had been on the ice yet. She replied, `No, sir,' in a most uncompromising manner, and when he further suggested that she should join him with Piet and Leen on the ice that evening, she put down the tray of instruments she was carrying with a quite unnecessary clatter.
`It's very kind of you to ask me, sir, but I...' she hesitated, for the professor was star
ing at her thoughtfully, and searched desperately for an excuse, wishing at the same time that she could stop blushing like a silly girl whenever he spoke to her. Her sigh of relief was quite audible when at length he said:
`Another time, perhaps, Sister Peters?'
He said no more, and she went along to Casualty with her tray. When she returned shortly afterwards, he had gone to do a ward round.
She wished that she had told him that she was unable to skate; but if she had done so, she reflected, he was too kind a man to do other than offer to teach her, and that, as the nurses had said, would never do. The sight of a group of rosy-cheeked nurses, on the way to the canals, and glowing with well-being, did nothing to improve her mood, so that when she met two of the housemen from the main hospital on her way over to lunch, and they invited her to skate with them that evening, she accepted with alacrity. She didn't know them well; she wasn't even sure she liked them, but she wanted to skate. The thought that once she had learned she could accept any further invitation from the professor overcame• any doubts she had as to whether she really wanted to go out with Dr Visser and Dr Monck. They promised to bring some skates for her, and arranged to meet her after eight o'clock that evening. She ate a hurried lunch, worrying about what she would wear. She finally decided to go shopping, and came back with blue slacks and an anorak which fastened tightly under her chin. She went back on duty quite excited, longing for the evening.
Adelaide enjoyed her first lesson on the ice. She found it exhilarating, and her vague feeling of dislike for Doctors Visser and Monck was lessened by the delight of finding herself on skates. They held her up while she got her balance, and then went slowly up and down the canal with her between them. She was awkward at first, but by the time they had gone the length of the canal three or four times she was beginning to find her feet, although she had to keep her eyes on her skates, which had a habit of going the wrong way if she didn't. Doctors Visser and Monck carried on a conversation over her down-bent head, pausing from time to time to beg her to keep her feet straight, strike out strongly with the left foot, and above all, keep her head up.
Adelaide obediently lifted her eyes from her all-important feet, clutched her companions firmly and looked around her. The Singel was crowded; the children had gone, their places taken by older girls and boys, married couples skating arm-in-arm, courting couples with arms entwined around waists, and elderly gentlemen showing a surprising turn of speed. The Singel was well lighted, and she saw the professor while he was still some distance away. She realised that he had seen them too, for he was making an apparently leisurely progress towards them. He had his hands clasped behind his back, and looked, just as most of the men she had seen that evening, very much at home on his skates. He came to a quiet halt and gave her a cold stare.
`Good evening, Miss Peters. Enjoying yourself, I trust?'
Adelaide smiled at him. `Yes, thank you, very much.'
He nodded casually to her companions.
'Your-friends are giving you a good time?"
'Oh, but they're not my friends,' she spoke with devastating candour. `I've said hallo to them in hospital, of course, but I met them this afternoon and they said they would teach me to skate.' She smiled at them in turn and then at the professor, who, however, did not smile back. She remembered guiltily and very clearly then how she had refused his invitation to join his skating party that evening. How illmannered and rude he must think her-her pink c
heeks grew scarlet and she opened her mouth to explain just as Piet and Leen, closely followed by Margriet, joined them. Leen asked her if she was all right and she said, `Yes, thank you. I'm doing awfully well-I hope.'
Margriet laughed softly. `How clever of you to find two men to teach you, Sister, and don't you feel foolish learning to do something you would normally learn as a child?'
Adelaide was unable to think of anything to say to this remark. She turned to Dr Visser.
`Please may we go on skating? I don't want to miss a minute.' She smiled at everyone, taking care to include Margriet, who said at once: `Don't let us keep you. Go and enjoy yourself-I'm sure you will with these two young men.'
There was a sly note of amusement in her voice which made Adelaide uneasy. She forgot it a moment later, however, as they left the others behind and continued on their way. She was doing better now, striking out boldly and much too intent on keeping her balance to do more than wonder what Doctors Visser and Monck were arguing about. They turned and went back along the other side of the canal. Half way down they passed Piet and Leen who waved, and then the professor and Margriet, who did not. Adelaide, watching them skim past, had to admit to herself that although she liked skating, she didn't much like being with her two companions.
'I'd like to go back,' she said suddenly, and was surprised when they agreed to do so without demur. They all climbed the bank and took off their skates and set off in the direction of the hospital. They walked together, arm-in-arm, and Adelaide, grateful for their kindness, kept up a steady flow of conversation in her halting Dutch. They had been walking for ten minutes or more before she realised that they weren't going in the direction of the hospital.
`You've taken the wrong turning, I'm sure, the hospital's over that way.' She pointed over her shoulder. Dr Monck laughed, and gave her arm a tug.
`This is another way back-besides, there's a club here, just down the street. We'll have a drink and a bit of fun.'
Adelaide frowned in the dark. `I don't want a drink, thank you. You both go to your club and I'll go back.'
She had no idea where she was now, but that didn't matter. Dr Monck held her arm a little tighter.
`Don't be a silly girl, of course you'll have a drink-several drinks.'
Adelaide didn't like the way he laughed. She stood still, planting her feet firmly on the icy road, and disengaged her arms from their too friendly grasp. She sought vainly for the right words in Dutch, but could think of none. She would have to use English and hope that they understood.
'I'm not being unfriendly,' she said crisply, `but I don't want a drink. Thank you,' she added politely. 'I'm going back to the hospital.' She once more removed their arms; they were laughing again, standing close on either side. She drew a deep steadying breath.
`If you don't leave me alone I-I shall plant you a facer!'
The professor's quiet voice, suggesting that the two young men should take themselves off, while he saw Sister Peters back to the hospital, fell into the ensuing silence like drops of icy water. Doctors Visser and Monck stood looking sheepish and foolish. Adelaide gave the professor a relieved smile and then turned to the two young men.
`Thank you very much for teaching me to skate, and I hope you have a pleasant evening at your club.'
They mumbled a reply as she turned away and started to walk back the way she had come, this time with the professor at her side. After a while he broke the silence.
`Do you know what a facer is, Miss Peters?'
Adelaide was surprised at such a silly ques
tion; she had two young brothers at home. `Yes, of course I do, sir.'
`And would you have-er-planted them?' She nodded. `Don't you think I could?" 'On the contrary, Miss Peters,' his voice
was dry, 'I'm sure that you are capable of anything.'
They walked on in silence until they arrived at the hospital gates, where they paused.
`I must explain something.' Adelaide spoke in a determined voice. The professor eyed her.
`Don't bother,' he advised. But she was not to be put off, and started to speak, the words tumbling over each other.
`I was told that you were a very good skater, and hadn't much patience with beginners, so I couldn't go with you, could I? But I didn't want to tell you-I was going to learn first, so that if you asked me again... And then I met those doctors. I don't know them very well, and I don't think I like them very much either, but they said they would teach me to skate.' She looked at him shyly, and added with her usual candour: 'I'd much rather have been with you, but you do see that I had to learn to skate first, don't you?'
She was standing under the lamp at the hospital gates; it shone on her hair, which had escaped from her hood. It glowed like bronze in the light. She looked about fifteen years old, and very pretty.
`Didn't anyone tell you that those two young men were rather wild?' She shook her head. `No, I don't think so, but my Dutch isn't very good yet, someone may have told me and perhaps I didn't understand.' She looked apologetic.
`I shouldn't go out with them again, if I were you,' advised the professor. `Wait until you can hold your own in our language.'
`That's a very good idea, sir. I'll take your advice. It was kind of you to bring me home,' she continued. `How fortunate that you happened to be coming down that street just then.'
The professor agreed.
`I wasn't frightened, you know, but it was rather unpleasant. Thank you very much, and good night, sir.'
She went indoors and up to her room to undress and lie in bed and remember every word the professor had said; and that, she decided, as she prepared to sleep, was easily done, for he had said very few. On his way home, the professor called in at the Beekmans' flat. They had just got in, and Leen was making coffee. He took off his coat and accepted the cup she offered him, then told then what had happened.
`Are you skating tomorrow evening? You are? Good, Piet, will you invite Adelaide to go with you, and I'll meet you on the Koningsgracht about seven. Between us we should be able to turn her into a passable skater, but don't tell her that I'm coming too; she has a bee in her bonnet about attaining perfection before accepting any invitation to skate with me. The silly girl,' he added.
Leen poured out another cup of coffee.
`Let's all come back here afterwards; though I haven't anyone to sit with little Piet.' She frowned.
Coenraad got up and put on his coat.
`Mrs Tweedle will love to come; I'll ask her.' He thanked Leen for the coffee, wished them both good night, and went home.
Adelaide was delighted when Piet asked her to go skating with them that evening.
'I'd love to, if you're sure I won't be a nuisance?' she asked anxiously. 'I'm not awfully good yet.'
`You're doing very well,' Piet said stoutly. `Another few hours and you'll be as good as any of us-well, almost as good.'
She found Leen and Piet waiting for her. 1 t was already dark, but the ice on the canals glistened in the lights. There were more skaters than ever. They started off, Adelaide in the middle, still rather uncertain of her feet. They had not gone far when Leen cried:
`Look who's here! Coenraad, how nice to see you!'
He came to a halt beside them. He was wearing a sheepskin jacket and his dark hair was uncovered; he was going grey at the temples and it showed up under the lights. He slapped Piet on the shoulder and kissed Leen's cheek. The little nod he gave Adelaide was friendly, she wondered why he looked so pleased with himself. She looked around, but there was no sign of Margriet.
'I'll get between you two girls,' he said, and crossed his arms and took Adelaide's hand in his gloved one.
`Which foot?' she asked anxiously, and they all laughed, and he gave her hand an encouraging squeeze.
`The left.'
Two hours later they all sat down on the hank and took off their skates. It had been wonderful. Adelaide had stopped looking at her feet once she had realised that the professor would not let her fall. It was a gr
eat deal more fun now that she was able to look around her. She told him so, turning her glowing face to his. She looked very happy. They were all panting and very hungry; their breath wreathed around them in little clouds; it would be very cold later on in the night. She sat down and let the professor untie the knots she had made in her straps. Their faces were very close, her dark eyes sparkled as she said: `I could have gone on for ever. I felt so safe with you.'
The professor took off her skates and tied them together. `Your skating does you credit, Miss Peters, you will soon be safe on you i own, won't she, Piet?'
He took off his own skates, picked up Adelaide's, and they all set out, in the best of spirits, for Piet's home.
The flat was warm and cosy when they reached it. A nice-looking elderly woman was putting on her hat and coat as they came in. Leen introduced her as Mrs Tweedle who had been minding the baby. She gave Adelaide a bright bird-like glance as the professor escorted her politely from the room. While they were waiting for the taxi, he said: