by Betty Neels
Left to herself, Julia spent a few minutes exploring her room. It was indeed comfortable, almost luxurious. She unpacked a few things and went to find the bathroom—pale pink to match the bedroom and furnished with an abundance of towels and soaps and bath salts. Julia heaved a sigh of pleasure at the sight of them. Even if she was going to be lonely here, it would all be most comfortable.
She had tidied herself and was standing by the window looking out upon the wintry scene outside when Ivo knocked and came in. He said rather shortly ‘Ready?’ and stood aside as she went through the door, then led her across the landing where he opened a beautifully carved door and said, ‘Come in, won’t you?’
The room was beautiful, with a high ceiling like the sitting room and just as beautifully decorated with plaster work. The walls were hung with striped silk in a very pale blue and there was a fire burning in the steel grate and a great many pictures about the walls. The bed was a little ornate for Julia’s taste; she didn’t like French furniture herself, although she had to admit that it was beautiful enough. There were several easy chairs and a daybed upon which her patient was lying. Julia walked across to it and stood looking down at its occupant while the doctor introduced her. As she shook the languid hand held out to her she took stock of Miss Marcia Jason and instantly disliked what she saw. Miss Jason was a pale blonde with a long face, rendered thin by illness, no doubt, but possessing a kind of beaky, austere beauty which Julia found distinctly chilling. She had pale blue eyes framed in long colourless lashes and a mouth that was too thin and which was now turned down at its corners in a sweetly sad way which made Julia quite out of patience. It was impossible to see how tall Miss Jason was as she was lying down, but all that was visible of her looked ethereal, even if flat-chested. She said now in a sweetly gracious voice, ‘Dear Ivo, to bring me my very own nurse. I know you’ll help me to bear my burdens—I’ve done my best, but sometimes I have felt that I needed someone—robust upon whom to lean.’
Julia said ‘Oh, yes?’ politely. No one had ever called her robust before. She became aware that her junoesque curves might strike someone of Marcia’s meagre proportions in that light, and probably the doctor, loving the tiresome creature before her, shared her views. Julia blushed at the thought and blushed anew when her patient said, ‘There—have I been too outspoken? I’ve always considered that the truth is all-important, but I have no wish to offend you.’
Julia managed to smile quite nicely. ‘I’m not offended,’ she said serenely. ‘I hope that before I go, I shall be able to give you some of my robustness so that you can get out and about and enjoy life again.’
‘But I enjoy myself now—I’ve forced myself to bow to circumstance and I’m aware that I shall never be as others are. All the same—’ she cast what Julia could only describe as a melting look at the doctor, ‘I still have a number of attributes, I believe, and am not altogether wanting in intellect. Ivo will tell you of our conversations when we first met and of the letters I’ve written. I’m a good letter writer.’
Julia said a trifle woodenly, ‘That’s an accomplishment these days.’ She had never before met anyone so conceited and self-complacent; moreover, she suspected that Miss Jason, in other circumstances, would have been on her feet by now and struggling back to a normal way of living. She had a tussle ahead of her, and for what? she asked herself bitterly: so that this pale creature should become the doctor’s wife? She said bracingly,
‘I’ll come back after lunch and we can talk a little and perhaps you will tell me how far you’ve progressed, then we can work out a routine.’
Miss Jason gave a silvery laugh. ‘Routine? My dear nurse, I have no routine—how is that possible with my state of health? You find it difficult, a jolly, buxom girl like yourself, to understand how we frailer women feel. But we’ll have our little talk by all means, for I’m sure you mean it for the best.’
She smiled, the same sweet smile, and Julia smiled back over gritted teeth. It had been bad enough to be called robust; now she was jolly and—unforgivable—buxom. The girl was detestable!
She went out of the room without looking at the doctor. He seemed like a stranger now; not the resourceful friendly man she had spent those days at Drumlochie House with, or the calm man telling her what to do at the accident on the M1 and then holding her close while she cried. This man beside her was calm, but withdrawn too, as though everything they had done together had been forgotten. Perhaps it had.
She went downstairs beside him without speaking and sat soberly throughout lunch, which they ate in a small bright room at the back of the house. The conversation, sustained easily enough by Ivo and his sister, was lively enough and covered a whole range of subjects, but Miss Jason wasn’t mentioned once.
It was after they had left the dining room that Ivo asked her to go with him to his study—a large room, Julia discovered, lined with books and surprisingly tidy. He waved her to a chair and sat down at his desk.
‘Marcia has made great progress,’ he began, ‘though I had hoped that she would have been more active, but you can see that she needs encouragement—she has the idea that she will never be quite well again, which indeed she will be if only she will make the effort.’ He gave Julia a fierce, daunted look and went on harshly, ‘I have a great regard for her, Julia, I hope that you will help her.’
Julia nodded, wondering why it was he found it necessary to remind her so frequently that he had a great regard for Marcia. Once was enough—too much, she thought. ‘Of course I will,’ she said cheerfully. ‘I’ll start slowly, don’t worry, but I’ll persist. Can I have precise instructions?’
‘You will have to ask my father for those. Marcia is not of course my patient. I do know that she is capable of walking with support. She needs other interests.’
‘Well, she’s got them now you’re back.’ Julia’s voice was very even. She got up and walked to the door. ‘I’ll get into uniform and go to her now,’ and Ivo who had gone to the door with her said suddenly, ‘Julia, it’s impossible…’ She gave him a kind smile, for of course he was worrying about his Marcia. ‘No, Ivo, it’s not—nothing’s impossible if you set your heart on it!’ She walked past him and crossed the hall and went slowly up the stairs, her lovely head held high.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE ELDER Doctor van den Werff came home after tea. Julia was in her room unpacking and when Bep knocked on the door and signed to her to go downstairs, she did so. She had changed into her new white uniform and made up a muslin cap, and so attired went quickly down to the hall, rather uncertain as to where she was to go. She need not have worried, for Ivo was waiting for her. He said at once,
‘I hope we don’t disturb you, but my father is anxious to meet you and evening surgery is in half an hour. His study is over here.’
He led the way across the hall and opened a door on the opposite side to the sitting room and motioned her inside. The man who stood waiting for her was as tall as his son and just as big. His hair, not yet wholly grey, receded from the same wide forehead, his eyes were just as blue and his mouth just as kind. Julia, who had been rather dreading this moment, smiled radiantly at him, for after all, he was only Ivo in thirty years’ time and therefore no stranger. She said, ‘How do you do, doctor,’ in a quiet voice and took the seat he offered her as he took his own chair behind his desk. Ivo, who had followed her in, perched on its side, one long leg swinging. Julia looked around her; the room was obviously used as a consulting room as well as a study—there was a couch along one wall and a glass case with instruments tidily arranged inside it and a hand basin on one corner, half hidden by a screen. She finished her survey and turned her gaze on the older man, who smiled in his turn.
‘We’re very glad indeed to have you with us, Miss Pennyfeather,’ he began. ‘I hope that you will be happy while you are here—I assure you we shall do our best to make you so.’ He shifted his chair a little so that he could get a better view of her face and went on, ‘And what do you think of your patient?�
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Julia hesitated. It really wouldn’t do to tell him her opinion of Miss Jason; she might get sent back to England by the next train if she did. She had spent a couple of hours with Marcia during the afternoon and had to admit to herself that her hastily formed opinion hadn’t been changed in the least. It had, if anything, become firmer. She had, after a polite, exhausting argument, got her patient to her feet and walked her a few steps about the room, an act which had served to strengthen her suspicion that her companion could do a good deal more than she would have everyone else suppose. Julia, remembering her promise to Ivo, encouraged her gently and assured her that within a very short time she would find herself walking normally—even going downstairs. They would start tomorrow, said Julia in her kind, firm voice, but this evening Doctor van den Werff had said that he would carry Miss Jason down to a family dinner party.
She had left the room, the memory of the smug little smile on her patient’s face very vivid in her memory. She said now, weighing her words, ‘Miss Jason seems to have reached a period of inactivity, but that often happens, doesn’t it? I think that now Ivo has returned it will give her the encouragement she needs to make the final effort to return to a normal life. It must be difficult after months of doing nothing much. How many months is it?’
‘Ten. You’re right, nurse, and I applaud my son’s happy idea of bringing you back with him. This is a fairly quiet household; perhaps Marcia has been too much on her own.’
Julia pinkened. ‘I didn’t mean that,’ she protested. ‘I sound as though I’m criticising my patient. I’m not, but I promised Ivo that I would get her well and I will, only I think I should tell you what I think.’
She paused after this speech, drew breath, and sat silently waiting for someone to say something. It was Ivo who broke the silence, and he spoke in a silky voice she had never heard before. ‘And are you sure that you are not overestimating your powers, Julia? I am aware that you are a capable and efficient nurse, but surely not such a very experienced one?’
Julia’s bosom heaved as she got to her feet and stood facing him, her head very erect, her eyes flashing. ‘If you feel,’ she said in austere tones, ‘that you’ve made a mistake in bringing me here, I’ll pack my things and go back on the next train.’
Ivo had risen too, and they stared at each other for a long a moment until he said, ‘Julia, I beg your pardon—I’m behaving like a pompous ass and I don’t mean a word of it—put it down to worry if you will. The last thing I want you to do is to go away.’
Julia’s heart somersaulted under her white uniform. She said with admirable calm, ‘Then I won’t,’ and sat down again, and Ivo’s father, who had sat silently watching them, gave a dry little cough and remarked, ‘Very well, now that the air is cleared, shall we put our heads together?’ He smiled at Julia, ‘And may I call you Julia, young lady? My son appears to do so and I can see no reason why I should not if you have no objection.’
Julia beamed at him. ‘I’d like you to,’ she said, and he nodded and went on, ‘Now I will tell you all I can about Marcia, for we are as anxious as you are to get her fit again. She was in Holland on a short study tour—probably Ivo has already told you that she is a highly qualified teacher of marked intelligence. She and Ivo met at a reception in Tilburg,’ he paused and looked at Julia from hooded eyes. ‘They had much in common and she visited us frequently. It wasn’t until the day she came to say goodbye and arrange to see Ivo in England that she became ill. She had been feeling poorly for a day or two—headache, sore throat—you know all the symptoms, of course—she was actually with us when the paralysis set in. She was in hospital for three months and then returned here where she has been ever since. She—er—bore her illness with almost saintlike fortitude and when she asked if she might come here until she was strong enough to travel home, we were only too glad to offer her hospitality. As I am sure you have gathered from Ivo, he and Marcia…’ He left the sentence in the air for Julia to finish as she thought best and went ‘Marcia’s serious mind is a great attraction to him, you understand.’
He sat back and looked at Julia and she looked back at him and could have sworn that behind those half closed lids, his eyes were alight with laughter. She asked herself silently why and commented soberly,
‘A terrible thing to happen…’
‘Yes. Now as to her drugs and treatment—’ He became all at once professional and remained so until Julia finally rose to her feet when he got up too, saying, ‘I hope you will come to me with any difficulty however small, Julia, and if I am not here, Ivo will be, I daresay. I shall see you at dinner and I look forward to that.’
Julia went back to her patient and helped her change into a dark red velvet dress which drained all the colour from her already pale face and was cut far too tight. Julia, zipping it up the back, remarked cheerfully that the dress was a little close-fitting—a good sign because it meant that her patient was putting on weight, whereupon Miss Jason replied indignantly that she had put on too much weight over the past months and was anxious to lose a few pounds. ‘For,’ she said with what Julia chose to call a simper, ‘we slim girls owe it to ourselves to keep our figures, don’t you agree?’ She gave her high clear laugh. ‘Though of course, Nurse Pennyfeather, I expect you find that a piece of nonsense.’ She added, ‘Do you never diet?’
‘Never,’ said Julia goodnaturedly.
‘Should you not?’ persisted Miss Jason. ‘You are a little—if you’ll forgive me—plump, are you not?’
Julia refused to get annoyed. ‘I feel like Juno,’ she said with a chuckle. ‘Thank you for the compliment.’ Which silenced Miss Jason most effectively.
They dined in a small panelled room behind the doctor’s study, the five of them sitting round an oval Empire table covered with a fine white linen cloth and set with heavy silver and a quantity of cut glass. After dinner Marcia begged, with a great deal of unnecessary charm, to be allowed to stay up, managing to imply at the same time that she was a little afraid of what Julia might say if she did. Julia, listening to her and feeling like a tyrant, asked, ‘Did I really order you to bed after dinner? I don’t remember doing so—I must have been out of my mind if I did. Why on earth shouldn’t you stay up until a reasonable hour if you wish? There’s no reason why you shouldn’t.’ And had the satisfaction of seeing her patient frown and disclaim any pretensions to enough strength to remain up late.
Half an hour later Doctor van den Werff was called out to a case, but before he could get to his feet, Ivo was already at the door.
‘Let me, Vader,’ he said decisively. ‘You’ve had a long day—I know the Bakker children well enough, and I daresay it’s nothing serious; you know how nervous Mevrouw Bakker is.’ He looked round the room, saying, ‘You’ll all forgive me, I know.’
He stared at Julia and then past her to Marcia who was speaking in a tiresomely reasonable voice which somehow conveyed that her feelings were hurt. ‘Your first night back,’ she said gently, ‘and I had so much to tell you about my studies of Vondel’s work—your father was kind enough to get me the English translation…’
Ivo interrupted her gently and with carefully hidden irritation.
‘I’m sorry, Marcia, there will be time later on for us to talk. I’m home for good, you know. I’ll see you in the morning.’
He was almost through the door when Marcia said plaintively, ‘I’m sure I don’t know who is to get me upstairs. Must I spend the night here?’
Her words fell upon her companions’ ears, but not upon Ivo’s, for he had gone. Before anyone else could speak, Julia said briskly,
‘Just the opportunity we need, Miss Jason—imagine what a triumph for you when you tell Ivo that you went upstairs on your own two legs!’
Her patient gave her a fixed look. ‘Why do you call Doctor van den Werff Ivo?’ she wanted to know.
‘He asked me to. You see, when we were at Drumlochie House it was rather—rather like make-believe, if you know what I mean, and it would have been ridi
culous if we had been formal with each other. I expect you’ve heard him call me Julia, haven’t you?’ She smiled at Marcia’s cross face. ‘I expect you would have done the same in those circumstances.’
‘I doubt it. I hope you don’t expect me to call you Julia. I shall address you as Nurse. Is that not correct?’
‘Quite,’ said Julia dryly. She turned to Doctor van den Werff, who had been sitting quietly listening to every word.
‘What do you think, doctor?’ she asked. ‘May I help Miss Jason to her room? We have a stick here and the stairs are shallow and the balustrade strong. It would be a marvellous surprise for Ivo, wouldn’t it?’
‘Indeed, yes, Julia. Do so by all means.’ He turned to Marcia. ‘My dear,’ he said mildly, ‘think how pleased he is going to be—your first positive step to a normal life.’ His voice was serious, but Julia felt sure that if only she could have seen his eyes, they would have been twinkling at some joke of his own.
There was a great deal of fuss getting Marcia on to her feet, for she didn’t want to, which made it twice as hard. But eventually Julia, by sheer stubbornness, had her standing, and after more fuss, walking slowly, leaning heavily on Julia’s arm and wielding the stick with unnecessary clumsiness. Going upstairs was a lengthy business, punctuated by Marcia’s dignified protests and audible sighs; she even so far forgot herself at one point to observe that Julia was a hard young woman, devoid of all sympathy, to which Julia replied,