by Betty Neels
Georgina agreed happily. ‘Lovely, Julius—we can all go. Cor and Beatrix and Franz-Karel can drive them over. Dimphena will be with Jan, I suppose, but they could come over…’
Jason studied his glass. ‘What a quiverful you took on when you married Julius,’ he observed idly, ‘four cousins of assorted ages.’
‘Don’t forget Polly and Ivo. But the others—they’re not small any more; Karel’s a post-graduate and almost finished with hospital, and Franz is sixteen, that only leaves Beatrix and Cor, and now Dimphena is married there’s quite a gap.’
‘Which we shall doubtless fill within the next few years,’ commented her husband softly.
‘I’m envious,’ said Jason slowly, and Georgina threw him a quick glance.
‘No need,’ she told him kindly, ‘you only have to lift a finger for all the prettiest girls to come running.’
‘That’s all very well as well as being grossly exaggerated, but none of these same girls had ever succeeded in convincing me that I can’t live without her.’
Georgina got up. ‘One day there’ll be a girl,’ she assured him, ‘though probably she won’t be pretty or come running. I’m going to see to Ivo.’
She ran indoors and the two men sat in silence for a few minutes, Presently Jason spoke. ‘As I said to Georgina just now, you’re a lucky devil, Julius.’
‘Yes, I know.’ He added thoughtfully, ‘I was thirty-three when I first met Georgina.’
‘A reminder that I’m thirty-five and still haven’t met my paragon?’ They both laughed before plunging into a discussion as to how the day had gone in theatre, absorbed in their world of anaesthetics.
It was later that evening as Georgina sat before her dressing table brushing her hair that she said suddenly: ‘Julius, can you think of a good reason for having Tishy down here?’
Her husband’s eyes met hers in the mirror. ‘Tishy?’ he queried mildly. ‘Why Tishy, darling?’
‘She could be exhausted,’ went on Georgina, taking no notice, ‘worn out with work and needing a few days’ rest…’
Julius had become adept at reading his wife’s mind. ‘She would have to work fast.’
Georgina gave him a doubtful look. ‘That won’t do, then,’ she stated positively. ‘I daresay she can’t bear the sight of him, and he’s hardly noticed her.’
‘My love, is it wise to play providence? They’re a most unlikely pair; just because Tishy is getting over hurt pride and Jason chooses to remain a carefree bachelor it doesn’t mean that they’ll fall into each other’s arms.’
‘No, I can see that, but it would be nice. If we just gave them the chance…’
But as it turned out there was no need of that.
Two days later, with the list almost over for the day, Letitia was starting on the clearing up, her mind happily occupied with plans for her days off, due to start in the morning. Two days, she mused, and almost no money so she wouldn’t be able to go home, but she could go to Epping, where an elderly aunt lived—no telephone, unfortunately, but Aunt Maud never minded an unexpected visitor for a couple of days. She had a dear little house on the edge of the forest and it would be pleasant after the heat and rush of London and the hospital. If Margo had been there they could have gone together, but she was on holiday, up in Scotland with friends. Letitia nodded her head in satisfaction, glad that she had made up her mind, and looked impatiently at the theatre doors; the case should have been finished by now, it was hernia and shouldn’t have to stay long in her care. She looked at the clock, calculating how soon she could get away that evening, then turned round to see who it was who had just come in from the outer door.
It was the very last person she wanted to see; Mike Brent, the Medical Registrar, lounging in, very sure of himself, his good-looking face wearing a smile which not so very long ago would have melted her heart and now, rather to her surprise, made no impression upon it at all.
‘Hullo,’ he said, ‘how’s little Tishy? Haven’t seen you around for quite a few weeks—I was beginning to think you might have run away.’
She eyed him steadily. ‘Why should you think that?’
He shrugged his shoulders. ‘Oh, well—no hard feelings.’
She arranged a recovery tray just so before she answered him. ‘I’m busy, there’s a case…’
He interrupted her impatiently. ‘Oh, come off it, Tishy. To tell you the truth I’ve been a bit worried; didn’t like to think of you feeling jilted and all that, you know—after all, I couldn’t help it if you took me seriously, could I? And you’re a bit out of date, aren’t you. I mean, the odd weekend doesn’t mean a thing…’
‘It does to me.’ Neither of them heard the theatre door open, Doctor Mourik van Nie’s voice startled them both. ‘Perhaps if I might break into this most interesting discussion on your love life?’ he suggested placidly, and turned to Letitia to study her furious face with gentle amusement.
‘This next case coming in within a few minutes—she’s not so good.’ He ignored the other man completely and began to give her instructions; by the time he had finished Mike had gone.
She boiled with temper while she dealt competently with her patient, damping down her furious thoughts so that she might concentrate on the matter in hand. Only some half an hour later, the patient transferred to the ward, nicely on the road to recovery again, did she allow her mind to dwell on the unfortunate episode which had occurred. And funnily enough it was the Dutchman she was furious with; for coming in like that and over-hearing Mike talking all that hot air. She paused, aware that his words, which at one time would have been quite shattering to her, were, in fact, just that. She had, let her face it, been a fool; she was well rid of him, even if her pride was still ragged at the edges. But that Doctor Mourik van Nie should have been a witness to such a nasty little scene—that was a different matter entirely; he must have found it amusing; he had stared at her as though he had never seen her before. She felt unreasonably annoyed about that, so that she clashed and banged her way around the recovery room before finally leaving it in a state of perfection. The quicker she got out of the hospital and into Aunt Maud’s placid company, the better.
In her room she flung a few things into an overnight bag, changed into the tan jersey cardigan suit with the shell pink blouse she had bought instead of eating properly that month, coiled her long hair neatly on the top of her head and, nicely made up, dashed out to catch a bus.
The Underground was crowded; she didn’t get a seat until the train had left Leytonstone, and it was a relief when she at last got out at Epping and went into the street. The crowds were a little less now, but the rush hour wasn’t quite over; track was still heavy coming from London. She was standing on the kerb waiting to cross the street when a group of people passing her unthinkingly shoved her off the curb into the path of the oncoming cars. She had a momentary glimpse of a sleek grey bonnet and heard the squeal of brakes as the bumper tipped her off balance. She fell, hoping desperately that her new out fit wouldn’t be ruined, aware as she fell that she had done so awkwardly and that her left ankle hurt most abominably. She had no chance to think after that, because Doctor Mourik van Nie was bending over her. ‘Well, I’m damned,’ he said, and then: ‘Does anything hurt? The bumper caught you and you fell awkwardly.’
Letitia sat up, glad of his arm, comfortably firm, round her shoulders. ‘I was trying to save my dress. It’s my ankle, otherwise I’m fine.’
A small crowd had collected, but the doctor took no notice of it, merely scooped her neatly off the ground and carried her to the car, where he sat her carefully on the front seat. ‘Let’s have a look,’ he suggested calmly, and slid her sandal off a decidedly swollen ankle. ‘A sprain, I fancy. Stockings or tights?’
‘Tights.’
He produced a pair of scissors from a pocket. ‘Sorry about this—I’ll get you another pair,’ he promised as he made a neat slit and cut the nylon neatly way above the ankle. He was reaching for his bag in the back of the car when the po
liceman arrived. Letitia sat back, listening to the doctor’s quiet answers to the officer’s questions, the eager chorus of witnesses, anxious to allow no blame to rest upon him, and her own voice, a little wobbly, giving her name and address and where she was going and why. By the time things had been sorted out the ankle had been firmly bandaged and her head was beginning to ache. She didn’t listen to what the doctor said to the policeman—indeed, she barely noticed when he got in beside her and started the car; she was suddenly sleepy. The car was comfortable to the point of luxury; she closed her eyes.
They were almost at Dalmers Place when she woke up again; she recognized the road almost at once. ‘I was going to my aunt in Epping,’ she began worriedly. ‘My days off, you know.’
‘You went to sleep—the best thing for you. Does she expect you?’
‘No.’
‘Then there’s nothing to worry about. I’m taking you to Dalmers Place. You’re a friend of Georgina, aren’t you—and Julius? They’ll be delighted to put you up for the night.’
She turned to look at him, quite shocked. ‘Oh, you can’t do that—invite me there without them knowing, whatever will they say? If you’d stop…oh, dear, we’ve gone through Bishop’s Stortford, haven’t we? Could you go a little out of your way to Saffron Walden? There’s a station there—I could get on a train back to Epping.’
‘Hopping all the way? Don’t be absurd. Besides, I feel responsible for you—I knocked you down.’
‘But it wasn’t your fault, and really I can’t allow you…’
He interrupted her in a placid voice. ‘Dear girl, what a mountain you are making out of this little molehill! And you know that you’re dying to get to bed and nurse that painful ankle.’
She had to laugh a little then and he gave her a quick sideways glance and said: ‘That’s better,’ and a moment later slowed the car to allow Mr Legg, who did the garden and lived in the lodge at Dalmers Place, to come out and open the gate for them, and then drove, still slowly, up the short, tree-lined drive to the house where he stopped before its door, told her to stay where she was, got out, and went round the side of the house.
Georgina looked up as he reached the terrace. ‘Hullo,’ she greeted him cheerfully. ‘We were just beginning to wonder what had happened to you.’
‘I’ve brought someone with me, I hope you won’t mind—it’s Tishy.’
He was quick to see the quick look his friends exchanged and went on smoothly, ‘I could take her on…’ to be cut short by Georgina’s fervent: ‘No, Jason—we’re delighted, really, only Julius and I were talking about her—oh, quite casually,’ she avoided her husband’s twinkling eye, ‘and it’s funny, isn’t it, how when you talk about someone they often turn up unexpectedly. Where have you left her?’
‘In the car. She sprained her ankle—I knocked her down.’
Georgina was already leading the way. ‘Oh, how unfortunate!’ she exclaimed, meaning exactly the opposite. She glanced at Julius over her shoulder and when Jason wasn’t looking, pulled a face at him. ‘But we must thank Providence that it was you, if you see what I mean.’
CHAPTER TWO
LETITIA SAT in the car, feeling a fool. Her ankle throbbed, so did her head, and she had been pitchforked into a situation which had been none of her doing. Probably Georgina would be furious at having an unexpected guest at less than a moment’s notice. True, she had been to Dalmers Place before, but only in the company of her sister Margo—it was Margo who was Georgina’s friend. She sought feverishly for a solution to her problem and came up with nothing practical, and when the three of them came round the house and crossed the grass towards the car, she found herself studying their faces for signs of annoyance. She could see none; Georgina was looking absolutely delighted and her husband was smiling, and as for Doctor Mourik van Nie, he wore the pleased look of one who had done his duty and could now wash his hands of the whole tiresome affair.
Georgina reached the car first. ‘Tishy,’ she exclaimed, ‘you poor girl—does it hurt very much? You shall go straight to bed and the men shall take another look at it—you look as though you could do with a drink, too. Thank heaven it was Jason who knocked you down and not some stranger who wouldn’t have known what to do.’ She paused for breath and Letitia said quickly: ‘I’m awfully sorry—I mean, coming suddenly like this and being so awkward.’ Her eyes searched Georgina’s face anxiously. ‘You don’t mind?’
‘Of course not, it’ll be fun once that ankle stops aching.’ She stood aside while Julius said Hullo in a welcoming way and Jason said matter-of-factly: ‘I’ll carry you in.’
‘I can hobble, I’m sure I can.’
He grinned. ‘I shouldn’t bet on that if I were you.’ He had opened the car door and swept her carefully into his arms. ‘Which room?’ he asked Georgina.
‘Turn left at the top of the stairs, down the little passage, the second door.’
Letitia wondered if the doctor found her heavy; apparently not, for he climbed the staircase at a good pace and with no huffing or puffing, found her room without difficulty and sat her down in a chair. ‘Georgina will help you undress,’ he told her with impersonal kindness, ‘and we’ll come back later and take another look at the ankle.’ He had gone before she could frame her thanks.
Half an hour later she was sitting up in bed, nicely supported by pillows and with the bedclothes turned back to expose her foot; by now the ankle was badly swollen and discoloured. The men came in together with Georgina and Letitia wasn’t sure whether to be pleased or not when neither gave her more than a cursory glance before bending over the offending joint, which they agreed was nothing more than a partial tear of the ligament and hardly justified an X-ray. ‘We’ll strap it,’ they told her. ‘You’ll have to rest it for three or four days, then you can start active use—a couple of weeks and you’ll be as good as new.’
‘A couple of weeks? But I’ve only got two days off!’ She was appalled at their verdict.
‘Sick leave?’ suggested Doctor Mourik van Nie. He sounded positively fatherly.
She stared at him; they were all being very kind, but she was spoiling their evening. She said quickly: ‘If I could go back to St Athel’s with you in the morning—there’s a list at nine o’clock, isn’t there?—I could see someone. That’s if you wouldn’t mind taking me.’
He gave her a long considered look and she felt her cheeks grow red.
‘No, I won’t take you, you silly girl. Georgina has already said that you’re to stay here until Julius pronounces you fit to travel, and that won’t be for a few days.’
‘Of course you’ll stay,’ chimed in Georgina warmly. ‘I shall love having you; these two are driving up to Edinburgh at the weekend, to some meeting or other, and I wasn’t looking forward to being alone one bit. And now I’m going to see about your dinner, you must be famished.’
‘And I’ll telephone St Athel’s,’ Julius suggested, and left the room with his wife, leaving Doctor Mourik van Nie lounging on the side of the bed.
‘That’s settled,’ he commented, and smiled at her, and for some reason she remembered that he had smiled that afternoon when he had come upon her and Mike.
‘You’re all very kind,’ she said crossly, because her head still ached, ‘but I don’t like being a nuisance.’
He got to his feet so that she had to tilt her head to look up at him.
‘My dear girl,’ he said, and his voice was bland, ‘the sooner you stop imagining that because one man said you were—er—old-fashioned, the rest of us are villains and you’re a failure, the better. I’m surprised at you; you seem to me to be a sensible enough girl, and when you smile you’re quite pretty.’
He strolled to the door. ‘You’ll feel better in the morning,’ he assured her as he went out.
Letitia stared at the shut door; probably she would feel much better in the morning, at the moment she felt quite sick with surprise and temper—how dared he talk to her like that?—it was possibly these strong feelings whic
h caused her to burst into tears.
She was wiping her eyes when Georgina came back, and she, after one quick glance, made some thoughtful remark about delayed shock and proffered the glass of sherry she had brought with her. ‘Dinner in half an hour,’ she said cheerfully, ‘and Julius says a good night’s sleep is a must, so he’s coming along with a sleeping pill later on.’
Letitia sipped the sherry. ‘I’ve never taken one in my life,’ she protested, and then remembering what the Dutchman had said, added meekly: ‘But I will if he says so.’
She felt a lot better after her dinner and better still after a long night’s sleep. Indeed, she woke early and lay watching the sun gathering strength for another warm day, and she heard the car drive away too. That would be Doctor Mourik van Nie, she supposed, and she felt an unreasonable pique because he hadn’t come to inquire how she felt, but of course she wasn’t his patient, only an unfortunate incident at the end of a long day.
She sat up in bed, wincing a little at the pain in her ankle, and thought about him, willing to admit, now that it was morning and she was feeling better, that he had been quite right even if a little outspoken, the previous evening. She had been sorry for herself, she admitted that now, although she hadn’t much liked being dubbed as sensible, but he had said that she was almost pretty when she smiled. She smiled now, remembering it, and turned a beaming face upon the maid who presently tapped on the door with her early morning tea.
The day rolled along on well-oiled wheels; the house came alive, breakfasted, and settled down to the morning. Julius came early, examined the ankle, pronounced it to be going along nicely and left Georgina to help her out of bed and into a chair by the window and presently they all had their coffee there, with Polly playing happily and baby Ivo asleep in his cot. It was when Julius got up to go to his study that Letitia asked a little diffidently if he had telephoned the hospital.