by Betty Neels
There were cases for Theatre after breakfast and she was kept busy. Indeed, going to her dinner was out of the question, so she had a pot of tea in the office, ate the rest of the biscuits from her store hoarded for coffee on round days, and went back into the ward. It was almost teatime before she felt satisfied with her patients, and Harry had been and gone for the last time. She supposed Mr Grenfell would come—he always did after he had been operating, but that wouldn’t stop her going to tea. Half an hour off the ward would be bliss.
She was going out of her office door when he appeared, pushed her gently back inside and closed the door behind him.
Eugenia heaved a soundless sigh. ‘You would like to see the operation cases, sir?’
‘I have on my way here.’ His voice was as remote as it had been on the round, and Eugenia wondered fleetingly if she had annoyed him in some way.
He looked over her head. ‘Sister Smith, I should like you to accompany me at the end of this week. I have a consultation in Heidelberg—I shall probably operate.’
She thought of Humphrey and the weekend with his mother. ‘Well, sir—I had arranged with Humphrey…’
He sounded testy. ‘Your work is surely more important than a date with Parsons?’ He suddenly glared down at her. ‘It isn’t as though either of you is in the throes of first love.’
Eugenia’s magnificent bosom swelled under his appreciative eye. ‘I’ve never heard…’ she began, and caught his eye. He was amused, laughing at her behind that bland face. In a voice she strove to keep calm she began again. ‘You’re inconsiderate, Mr Grenfell,’ and then, her feelings getting the better of her: ‘And what might you know about young love?’
She stared up at him, appalled at what she had just said. What on earth had come over her?
His expression hadn’t altered. ‘I’ve outgrown that stage, but I suspect that love at any age can be just as intense; indeed, I don’t suspect, I’m certain of it.’
‘Oh, are you?’ faltered Eugenia, feeling mean. He would be away from his Miriam, vain skinny creature that she was, still he must love her. And wasn’t that a pity, what a waste… Eugenia caught her breath on a sudden thought, bewildered and excited and sad. She wanted him for herself; all this time she had known it deep down inside her and never admitted it. Miriam would be the worst possible wife for him; what he needed was a woman who would put up with his absorption in his work, look after him when he was under the weather, wait up for him when he got home late, see what he needed and that his home was run smoothly, and above all, love him to distraction—just as she most surely did. And now, sadly, he would marry Miriam and she, she supposed, would marry Humphrey and four people would be unhappy for the rest of their lives. It didn’t bear thinking about.
‘Well, Eugenia?’
She found her voice, surprisingly calm and steady. ‘I’ll talk to Humphrey.’
‘Is your date with him so important?’
‘It’s not only him—it’s his mother. We spend a weekend with her every month or so.’
Mr Grenfell allowed a small sound to escape from him and turned it immediately into a cough. ‘And it’s essential that you spend this particular weekend with her?’
‘It’s not essential, it’s just that we’ve been doing it for ages—well, ever since we became engaged.’
He said bracingly: ‘All the more reason to give it a miss for once. We shall leave in three days’ time, fly to Frankfurt and drive the rest of the way. We shall be in Heidelberg for at least one week. Uniform, of course, and whatever else you can cram into a small case. I’ll pick you up after lunch.’
Eugenia eyed him thoughtfully. ‘I haven’t said I’ll go.’
He bent suddenly and kissed her cheek. ‘Of course you’ll go, Eugenia.’ He added, to spoil it: ‘You’re a good nurse, and like to do your duty.’
She said meekly, feeling unhappy: ‘Very well, Mr Grenfell. Shall I go to the Office?’
‘No, I’ve already dealt with all that.’
Indignation sent the colour flying into her cheeks. ‘Well, I must say—settling it all before you’ve even asked me.’
He smiled suddenly and her heart lurched. ‘I was sure you’d come.’ He opened the door and added briskly: ‘Now how about taking a look at Mrs Cross? I’m not too happy about her.’
He was the remotely polite consultant again, so she was all the more surprised when he said: ‘Thank you, dear girl,’ and kissed her for a second time.
She had arranged to meet Humphrey that evening and wished heartily that she hadn’t. Still, he had to be told, and should she tell him too that she didn’t want to marry him, or should she turn her back on a hopeless love for Gerard and accept the future with him? She still didn’t know the answer when she met him.
They walked down the street to the café where they occasionally had a meal. They had finished it and were drinking their coffee when she told him.
Humphrey was coldly furious. ‘I’ve never heard such nonsense! You’re not indispensable, Eugenia, any nurse would do. Mother will be bitterly disappointed.’
‘There’s the patient to be considered,’ said Eugenia in a carefully mild voice.
Humphrey’s good looks were spoilt by his sneer. ‘Rather bigheaded, aren’t you, darling? Selfish too—deliberately disregarding my wishes Mother’s too.’
Eugenia felt rage bubbling up inside her. ‘Selfish?’ Her voice, which she had kept low, became a little shrill. ‘Selfish? When I’ve been saving every penny, going without clothes and holidays, going to cheap restaurants?’ Her indignant gaze swept round the tiny place they were in. ‘And the cheapest seats when we went to a show—and that’s not been often. Spending weekends with your mother, who doesn’t like me anyway.’ She paused for breath, glaring at him, almost in tears. ‘It’s no good, Humphrey, we’re not suited. I can’t go on like this any longer, saving to get married and never getting any nearer to it, and even if we ever got married we’d still go on saving, because it’s become a habit—a new car, some new gadget we simply had to have, and then planning the exact amount we needed before I could have a baby! I’m sorry, Humphrey, I really am, but it’s simply no good—I’d be a dreadful hindrance, and I’d be so unhappy I’d turn into a nagging wife.’ She studied his surprised face across the table. ‘Besides, I don’t love you.’
She felt instant contrition the moment she had said it, because she must have hurt him. But apparently not. Humphrey said coldly: ‘It seems I’ve had a lucky escape—you seemed such a suitable girl when we became engaged. I see now that Mother was right.’
Which, as far as Eugenia was concerned, was the last straw. She pulled his ring off her finger and pushed it across the table towards him. She said breathlessly: ‘She’ll be glad. I’m sorry if I’ve hurt your feelings, Humphrey. You’ll meet someone else.’
She didn’t wait to hear his reply. In the street, she almost ran back to St Clare’s. She was going through the gate when the Bentley passed her going the opposite way. She hadn’t seen it, she was too intent on getting to her room so that she could have a good howl. She wasn’t aware of Mr Grenfell stopping the car, getting out and joining her, not until he put out a hand and slowed her headlong rush.
He didn’t say anything, only turned her round to take a good look at her pale face. After a moment he said: ‘Ah, I have it. Humphrey has given you up.’
She nodded, then shook her head. ‘No—that is, I’ve given him up.’
‘I’m not surprised,’ commented Mr Grenfell placidly. ‘You’re not a girl to marry one of the Humphreys of this world.’
She looked up at him. ‘Whatever do you mean?’
‘You’re in no state to discuss the matter now. Go and make yourself a pot of tea and have a good cry and go to bed.’ He studied her washed-out face. ‘Go home tomorrow and talk to your father,’ and when she took a questioning look at him: ‘You’ll feel better once you’ve done so.’
He gave her a friendly little pat on the arm. ‘Just for the moment you�
��re the wrong side of the curtain; when you lift it you’ll see how splendid everything is on the other side.’
He opened the door for her and pushed her ever so gently inside, waiting while she crossed the entrance hall towards the nurses’ home. When she had gone through the door at the back of the hall, he turned on his heel and went back to the Bentley.
Eugenia was surprised to wake the next morning and discover that she had slept all night, and since there was never time to waste on thinking in the mornings, she dressed, did her face, which she expected to look wan and pale and which looked just the same as usual, and went to breakfast. She didn’t eat much, but no one noticed; they were too busy plying her with questions about her trip to Heidelberg. ‘You lucky creature,’ said someone from across the table. ‘The second time in as many months, and such a romantic place too!’ And someone else asked: ‘Is Miriam going too?’
Eugenia looked surprised. ‘I don’t know. There’s no reason why she shouldn’t, is there? I daresay Mr Grenfell will have some free time once he’s operated.’
‘What is it this time?’
‘Oh, CA of lung. An elderly man—I don’t know more than that.’
The ward was busy, mercifully, so she had no time to think of anything but her work. There was no sign of Humphrey, but she hadn’t expected there to be, and when Mr Grenfell came in the afternoon to take another look at Mrs Cross, he was his usual self, only as he prepared to leave the ward he paused to say: ‘I’ll give you a ring tomorrow some time—put you in the picture about the patient.’ He gave her a sharp look. ‘You’re going home this evening?’
‘Yes, Mr Grenfell.’
He nodded as he left her.
Eugenia was astounded when her father showed no surprise at her news.
‘Well, love, I’ve been expecting it for some time now. You and Humphrey were never meant for each other; I’m relieved that you discovered it in time. You feel sore and hurt, and I daresay he does too, but you’ll be surprised how soon you’ll get over it. Now tell me about this patient in Heidelberg, it sounds most interesting. There’s a hospital there, of course?’
‘I should think so, Father, though I don’t know a thing about it. Mr Grenfell said he’d ring me tomorrow and give me the details. I expect it will be pretty much the same as the other case in the Algarve.’
The twins came in then, demanding supper, and when Eugenia told them that she wasn’t going to marry Humphrey, whooped for joy. She felt a little shocked, and still more shocked to find that she shared their feelings.
She had refused to think about Mr Grenfell. He was something she would have to get over in secret, only she wasn’t sure if she would be able to do that. If she couldn’t then she would have to find another job, where she would never see him again. The thought turned her pale. Perhaps it would be easier to go on working for him, even though he married Miriam? She brushed the thought aside; time enough to worry about that after going on this new case with him. She must remember to be at her most professional with him. Cool and friendly, if she could manage it. It would help enormously, of course, if Miriam were to go with them.
CHAPTER NINE
MR GRENFELL collected Eugenia from the hospital entrance exactly on time, and there was no Miriam with him. Trying to ignore the wave of delight at seeing him, she told herself that of course she never would have come with them. Mr Grenfell had told her once that Miriam took no interest in his work. Work, she reminded herself, and just you remember that’s all it is, my girl. She wished him a serene good morning, gave him her bag, and got into the car. Beyond a few commonplace remarks about the splendid weather he had very little to say, which gave her the opportunity to go over the details of the case which he had told her about over the phone on the previous evening. Herr Wolfgang Sauer, sixtyish with a wife and grown-up children; he had had symptoms and signs for several months and had waited too long before going to his doctor, although there was a good chance that something could be done as long as it was done with haste and by someone who knew his job. Mr Grenfell had said this without conceit. But first he would have to consult with the family doctor, see the anaesthetist, arrange for Herr Sauer’s admission to hospital, all of which could be done quickly enough in an emergency. Eugenia did a mental recap of her duties, and by then they were at Heathrow.
Exactly as on the previous occasion, Mr Grenfell shepherded her through to the departure lounge, gave her coffee and magazines and made sure that she had all she wanted. And once on the plane, he settled in the seat beside her and, rather to her surprise, took the latest thriller from his case and began to read. Which left her nothing to do but bury her head in a magazine.
They landed at Frankfurt and were met by a small solemn man and a gleaming black BMW 735I. The man greeted them with pleasure and great politeness, stowed their bags and addressed himself to Mr Grenfell. Eugenia, whose German was, to say the least, sparse, listened to Mr Grenfell dealing with the language as though he had spoken it all his life, and envied him.
‘Less than an hour’s drive,’ he told her. ‘About fifty miles and a splendid road. We’ll get a glimpse of the Rhine from time to time, and there are several castles. You’re not tired?’
‘Not in the least.’
Even if she had been tired nothing would have made her miss the scenery they were passing through with such speed. Castles perched on vine-covered hilltops with small picturesque towns at their foot; she repeated their names after Mr Grenfell’s meticulous direction—Bensheim, Heppenheim, Weinheim, each with castles perched high above them.
‘If only I can remember it all,’ she said. ‘I must get a map…’
Mr Grenfell smiled. ‘We’re still a mile or so from Heidelberg, and I doubt if you’ll have much opportunity to explore. I’m told Herr Sauer is a demanding patient.’
They took a road to the left presently and she saw Heidelberg for the first time, much larger than she had imagined it to be, with hills towering behind it. ‘It’s too far for you to see, but there’s a splendid castle just behind the town,’ he told her.
She turned to look at him. ‘You’ve been here before?’
‘Oh, yes. It’s a university town, you know that, of course— I spent a year here, studying German.’ He added quietly. ‘That was a long time ago.’
‘But you’ve remembered your German,’ she said quickly.
‘It’s useful—at seminars and councils and so on.’
They were almost in the town by now. The castle was visible, a vast ruin dominating the town’s narrow streets and old houses. But they didn’t stop in the town but crossed a bridge over the river Neckar.
‘Theodor-Heuss Bridge,’ Mr Grenfell told her briefly. ‘Now we’re on the Philosopher’s Way. Look back—there’s the old town, the castle and the river.’
It was a view worth looking at. Eugenia hoped she would have the time to explore a little. She turned back as the car swung through tall iron gates and into a well tended and very large garden. The house was imposing, several stories high, painted white and with a steep roof pierced by small dormer windows. They went up steps to its solid front door, which was opened as they reached it. The thin elderly man who stood there said something which Eugenia couldn’t understand and ushered them into the hall, a gloomy apartment, hung with weapons and stuffed animals’ heads; exactly what Eugenia had imagined she would find in such a house. The room they were shown into was almost as bad; dark brown and heavy brocade, equally dark pictures on its walls and a large quantity of doubtless priceless china in its glass-fronted cabinets. Eugenia sat herself down, avoiding Mr Grenfell’s eye, and presently the door opened and a woman came in—Frau Sauer, short and plump and middle-aged, and just now upset.
She shook Mr Grenfell’s hand and burst into speech, and when she paused for breath he said something soothing, then went on in English: ‘May I introduce my nurse? Sister Smith, in whom I have the greatest confidence. We’ve worked together for more than three years.’
Frau Sauer took her h
and and shook it vigorously. ‘You do not know how very glad I am to see you,’ she said in fluent, heavily accented English. ‘We have nurses, of course, but I understand that Mr Grenfell wishes to work with someone who knows his ways. I have ordered tea for you—you like tea?—and then you will be shown your rooms and our own Doctor Schwarz will be here and you can see my husband.’ She turned back to Mr Grenfell. ‘He is very ill—I am in despair.’
He said very kindly: ‘It’s too early for despair, Frau Sauer. I hope we shall be able to change that.’
Tea came on a vast silver tray, with a heavy silver teapot and delicate cups. The three of them sat drinking it while Mr Grenfell asked questions. He asked them in English, so that by the time they had finished, Eugenia knew a good deal more about her patient.
Frau Sauer put down her cup at last. ‘You will want to freshen yourselves. Karl shall show you your rooms.’ And when the thin man came: ‘Be in the hall in ten minutes, please, Eugenia,’ said Mr Grenfell, and left her with a fresh-faced girl who led her up the overpowering staircase, along a corridor and into a large room furnished richly in dark oak and over-stuffed chairs. The bed looked comfortable, though, and Eugenia, who hadn’t slept well, wished very much that she could curl up on it for an hour.
She was in the hall with a minute to spare, her make-up renewed, her hair tidied, smelling very faintly of Madame Rochas and soap and water. She looked bandbox-fresh and ready for anything.
Mr Grenfell, coming soundlessly from the staircase behind her, studied her at his leisure with a gleam in his eyes, but all he said as he joined her was: ‘Uniform when you unpack, Eugenia. I fancy we shall have to get down to it without any waste of time.’
He turned to greet the man coming into the hall with Frau Sauer. Someone he already knew, who called him Gerard and then shook her hand and gave her a friendly smile. ‘Sister Smith, this is a pleasure. You are Mr Grenfell’s right hand, are you not? You do not mind coming? It is much better that he has a nurse with whom he is familiar—you will assist at the operation?’