They sat for a long time poring over the map, studying the contours of the country, reading up what little they could discover about the place from one or other of the ponderous tomes Edwin reached down from the shelves. It was quite late when he finally closed the last of his selected volumes and yawned prodigiously.
“Seems it might be interesting, love,” he announced. “Land-locked, of course, but there are apparently mountains, lakes, rivers in plenty. According to that last book some marvellous scenery and so on, and,” he frowned a little, “a growing tendency for modernisation which may or may not be an advantage! However, try it for six months, and if you don’t feel happy about staying, come home. If it’s too intolerable before the six months are up, we’ll get you home somehow, never fear! At least you’ll have given the thing a trial!”
It was settled that way. Dudley stayed as long as he could and sulked for the remainder of the evening, but with her parents behind her Jane felt that did not matter. When she saw him out he attempted to put his arms about her. He had never done that before, and she didn’t want him to part from her under any false impression.
“Don’t, Dudley,” she said gently. “Not now. We’ve been good friends, let’s leave it that way. Enjoy yourself while I’m away, as Angela’s doing, and as she wants you to do, now the place is really on its feet...”
“Squiring Heather Crabtree to all those silly parties her uncle’s always giving,” Dudley growled. “It’s nothing in my line, Jane, and you know it isn’t. I want to get on—and I will—but not that way.”
“Of course you’ll get on, as you put it,” Jane assured him too quickly. “You’re clever, just like Mr. Henry. I’m told you’re rapidly becoming his right-hand man! The rest’s sure to follow. Get around, as he did! Build up your own connections! Before you know where you are you’ll have a commercial empire of your own!”
He didn’t expostulate, as she had feared he might. She knew he dreamed that one day, with any luck, he would be as powerful and as great an influence on the community as was Henry Crabtree, and she saw the glow of ambition in his eyes as he said good-night.
After that, Jane thought, it seemed one mad whirl to get everything in readiness for her departure. Mary and she had a little talk, and although she knew the older woman was going to miss her daughter as greatly as she missed her other twin, she sensibly agreed with Jane this was the right course to take in the circumstances.
“Sooner or later Dudley would have become an embarrassment, and being with Angela all day might well have put you in a disagreeable position at some point or other. You’ve always wanted to see other parts of the world, and if you don’t like it, maybe six months will be long enough for Angela to get Dudley interested in the girl she thinks right for him, who knows? But you must be careful, darling! Betty’s gone away, but she has her husband to look after her, you’ll be on your own! It isn’t always easy for a girl alone in a strange country and so very far away from home! Promise me that if there’s the slightest thing you don’t like or can’t become reconciled about, you’ll let Dad and me know, and somehow or other we’ll get you home.”
“I know you would.” Jane stopped folding underwear and handing it across the bed for Mary to pack in her case. She came round to where her mother stood and put her strong young arms about the older woman.
“I’ve the best parents in the world,” she announced, “and the most understanding! Don’t worry, I shan’t go far wrong with the memory of the background you’ve both given me! When I come home we’ll all have such a lot to talk about. How about you and Dad saving up as much as you can while I’m away, and I’ll do the same. Then, when I come home, we’ll all go out and see Betty and Frank, you and Dad, Susan, and the boys if their careers won’t be too interrupted?”
“We’ll see,” Mary smiled, but wouldn’t say any more. She knew only too well how quickly dreams and hopes could die when faced with the harsh economic disappointments of daily living. It was as well to let Jane plan happily and resign herself to seeing her daughters when and how she could at some distant point in the unforeseeable future.
In this spirit they worked together towards Jane’s departure, and if Jane’s heart ached at times and she was assailed by a variety of misgivings, she gave no sign to either parent. Edwin, who realised more of what all this meant to his wife than she would have believed him capable of realising, contented himself by quiet, fatherly advice and by keeping up a cheerful, smiling countenance did much to avoid any emotional stress and strain in the small circle as the days sped by.
Susan chattered cheerfully about the wonderful sights Jane would see and how all the girls at the technical college envied her a sister so adventurous, but it was Susan’s small, pointed, rather wistful face which remained tugging at Jane’s heart-strings as she waved them all goodbye when she embarked on the first stages of her journey across Europe.
The thrills began as she entered France. This was her first trip abroad alone, and for a moment or so she was scared, but once she was on the Paris Metro and bound for the train to Germany she asserted herself and began to look upon the whole thing as an adventure.
By the second day on the train she was no longer so certain of the wisdom of her acceptance. The train was by no means as comfortable as the one she had left at the German frontier. The February sunshine was weak and watery, and what she saw of her fellow-travellers anything but inspiring.
By the time the train had chugged into a small station with the destination Seonyata inscribed on the indication board, she was cold, hungry and in anything but a receptive mood for whatever life had to offer. It was more than a little disconcerting to find the passengers lined up as they descended from the train and compelled to show their passports before they were allowed to leave the station.
Two uniformed men, obviously some sort of military or police officers, stood by the ticket collector at the barrier, and as she moved slowly along the line of shuffling passengers Jane was appalled to see another man, even more officious-looking than the other two, give a brief nod in the direction of a small, insignificant-looking man in a shabby fur coat. The two military-looking men sprang to attention, placed themselves one on either side of the man in whose direction the nod had been made. Before Jane could really believe it was happening, the man had been ushered into a long black car which was speedily driven away. The other two resumed their positions by the barrier, and the line of people moved slowly onwards.
What could be the meaning of it all? Jane felt suddenly more cold and forlorn than ever, and she looked desperately round at the few people gathered presumably to welcome friends in the hope of seeing one friendly British face.
She was rewarded. Not far from the tall, imposing figure who had given the nod to what she could only suppose to be the arrest of the man in the shabby fur coat stood a round-faced, rosy-cheeked girl whose halo of bright auburn hair stood out amongst the dark locks of most of the women present like a lighted lamp.
The girl waved frantically as she saw Jane’s anxious expression, and in the midst of her relief Jane waved in return. It was then she saw, with an unaccountable chill at her heart, that the tall man with the stern expression and the coldest eyes she had ever seen was looking unwaveringly in her own direction.
Jane held his glance, but she felt an unmistakable chill of fear creep up her spine, even though she knew perfectly well there was nothing wrong with her passport and that she was permitted entry to the country as an accredited worker.
As she tendered her passport and watched as the official scrutinised it, grunted and marked it in some strange fashion, she felt his gaze boring into her back, and only as the girl with the flaming hair greeted her did she attempt to relax.
“Nurse Kelsey?” the other demanded as Jane emerged through the gangway. “I’m Ann Palmer; it’s my job you’re taking, my flat they’re allowing you to have. I’ve a taxi, such as it is, waiting. Come on. I’ll take your case. They’ll send your trunk later.”
; “When they’ve gone through it with a fine-tooth comb, I’ve no doubt!” Jane said sardonically, but Ann only laughed.
“You’ll get used to it, after a time,” she asserted. “I admit it is a little unnerving, just at first. I wonder what Karl Brotnovitch was doing there?” she speculated. “Must have been on the lookout for someone important, at least so far as the state’s safety’s concerned. He doesn’t usually interest himself in the lesser evils!”
“Who’s he?” Jane demanded, regardless of grammar.
“The tall one in the uniform, the one who was staring at you. That’d be because of your hair. He likes all fair-haired people, and you must be something like the queen of them all!” she concluded, admiring Jane’s silver-gilt locks openly.
Jane wasn’t impressed. The man’s eyes had looked too cold and too calculating for comfort.
“But who is he?” she insisted, and wasn’t in the least cheered when Ann answered with gay inconsequence: “The Chief of Police in Seonyata. Quite a big bug in his own small sphere!”
CHAPTER 2
IF Jane had the idea that she was finished with her quota of shocks on arrival it did not take long for her to discover her error. To begin with, she could scarcely believe the ramshackle old vehicle which stood with the engine running—-and apparently only on one cylinder—was really the best taxi in Seonyata, as Ann proudly claimed.
The vehicle looked as though it had long seen its best days of service, but when the girls were seated comfortably the elderly driver, who appeared to know Ann and recognise her as someone from the hospital, started his ancient conveyance with the air of an oldtime coachman in charge of a mettlesome team.
“Do they always drive like this?” Jane gasped as the taxi swung round a corner, almost unseating the pair of them.
“Usually,” Ann laughed, and tossed her bright hair from her face. “Goodness knows why, because they never go anywhere important.”
“Why?” Jane demanded, suddenly suspicious as Ann glanced first at the solid back of the driver’s bulletshaped head before answering.
“Lots of reasons,” she said lightly, “but mainly because there just isn’t anywhere to go. Or money to afford ' travel without a purpose. We’ll talk later,” she seemed to dismiss the matter and pointed out of the window. “That’s the hospital,” she announced, “the oblong building over there. The tall, square-shaped effort’s the British Embassy.”
To Jane’s worried glance it was a relief to note that the Embassy didn’t appear too far from the hospital, but she was somewhat puzzled by the three-storied houses clustered at the end of what were obviously the hospital precincts.
“What are those?” she asked, pointing, then she became aware, that the taxi had come to a halt before the gates of one of them. “These,” she changed her wording immediately. “I mean ... what place is this?”
“They’re the hospital flats,” Ann explained as she hopped briskly from the vehicle and counted out a number of coins into the driver’s outstretched hand. Before she attempted any further explanation she poured out a torrent of what Jane could only assume to be Dalasalavian, indicating Jane’s case as she spoke.
At first Jane thought the man was about to refuse to carry the case upstairs for her, but Ann went on speaking, quickly and with an air of authority, and after a moment or so a slow grin spread over his face. He picked up the case and went ahead of them, not hurrying but not moving with deliberate slowness, whistling as he climbed the long, steep flight of concrete stairs.
“Whatever was all that about?” she asked as the girls prepared to follow. “I could have carried that myself, you know. It wasn’t heavy at all; most of my stuff’s in the big trunk they kept at the station. I wonder when I’ll get it back?”
“Later tonight, I wouldn’t wonder,” Ann was busily unlocking the door of a room which faced them just at the head of the stairs. Other rooms might well be down either side and along one or the other of the corridors which angled out from the central landing, but there was very little light and Jane could make out nothing much more than the door which faced them.
“They’re not a lazy people,” Ann explained as she opened the door and gestured to Jane to precede her. “They have a strong inner fear of ‘belonging’—to anyone or anything other than their own state. I suppose it’s natural, living where they do, politically, I mean, and they have a rooted objection to taking what they regard as orders, even if it’s a question of a mere polite request for help, from someone who ‘doesn’t belong.’ ”
“Then how ...?” Jane was beginning, but Ann laughed.
“Get him to do it?” she completed Jane’s sentence for her. “His wife’s in the hospital every year, to have a baby. She’s not had an easy birth yet, poor soul, and he relies on my looking after her. I should, of course, in any event, but he won’t believe that. In his mind he has to keep on the right side of the hospital staff, which, as you’ve just seen, does have its advantages now and again!”
“How perfectly horrible!” Jane was frankly appalled. “Doesn’t he realise you’d help her no matter who she was or whether he were co-operative or not?”
“Not yet,” Ann told her cheerfully enough. “So many of them don’t. Some do, of course, but they’re in the minority. Just keep their rules—simple enough when you’ve been around a bit—mind your own business, do your job and you’ll have as happy a time as I’ve had here, which is saying something. Just a word of warning. Doctor James Lowth isn’t exactly a woman-hater, he just hasn’t time for them. He sees nurses as a necessary evil, and because of that he’s polite to them—but only just. Someone told me he’d been badly let down by a girl back home, but I don’t know how much truth there is in that story.”
“He won’t be very easy to work with, then?” Jane said in a speculative tone. “How disappointing!”
“Work with? Oh, he’s all right on that score, it’s the other side where he’s absolutely a washout. As a social standby and that sort of thing, you know.”
“I’d no dreams of being taken about with him on a mad whirl of gaiety in this, if I may say so, somewhat dreary-looking capital...” Jane was beginning, when she was halted by Ann’s warning finger on her lips.
“Don’t!” the other girl whispered dramatically, adding a quite unnecessary “hush!” before tiptoeing to the door and opening it with a flourish. Apparently there was no one there, for she looked out, peering up and down the corridor and then returning, closing the door behind her and saying in a quiet voice:
“That wasn’t to frighten you, Jane. It’s just that nobody here really cares for foreigners, and that’s what we are in this country, you know. I don’t think the walls are bugged or anything dramatic like that, but I do think the caretaker is a Party man, and I’m certain that if he hears anything like criticism of the government it would be reported, and then goodness knows what would happen!”
“You mean—the government doesn’t like criticism?” Jane said bewildered. “How do people air their views, then?”
“They don’t,” Ann said briefly, and smiling. “You’ll learn. As I said, you mind your business and leave them to mind theirs, and you won’t go far wrong. They’re kindly people on the whole. It’s that they aren’t very accustomed to governing themselves without the support of some other stronger power behind them, and they have to be careful. Don’t ask me of what, because I don’t know. I came here as a nurse, and that’s why I’ve been so happy and contented, I think. Because I’ve confined my activities to nursing and nothing else. I’ve made few friends outside the hospital staff, and even there I think I ought to warn you,” she ended cautiously.
“Warn me?” Jane was disturbed. “About ... what, or whom?”
“Dr. Jim’s assistant, mainly,” Ann said seriously. “He’s a gay lad is young Kevin, and his head’s too big for his shoulders as well. He’s been warned several times about visiting places the people would rather visitors didn’t know about, and he’s made friends with any number of young pe
ople who fret under some of the restrictions and who are therefore classed as ‘unsubservient’ by the authorities. They’re a lot of young poets, musicians, writers and painters and such-like, the usual sort of people who get themselves mixed up in anything against authority. I don’t say they aren’t right in a number of things they advocate, but this country’s not ready for their sort of ideas as yet, and Kevin is a stranger within the gates, so to speak. For his own sake he ought not to go around with so many of them, and for yours I’m warning you not to accompany him to any of these meetings and so forth he’s always being dragged away from.”
“At least he sounds human!” Jane laughed, then, as she looked round the flat in more detail, she decided it was high time the subject was changed.
“I must say,” she commented, “the authorities, whoever they are, appear to have done you proud where living quarters are concerned. This place is super.”
“Not bad,” Ann conceded. “A friend of Kevin’s painted the walls, after permission had been given. When I arrived they were all in a horrible uniform shade of olive green. The paintwork,” she shuddered realistically, “was Victoriana at its worst, mostly dark chocolate brown picked out here and there with a dirty mushroom shade.”
“It’s pretty enough now,” Jane stated, looking at the white walls, the azure blue of the paintwork, the daffodil yellow of the fresh spring green of the counterpane which covered the bed which was so obviously a divan by day and a bed by night. There was also a big wooden framed armchair in the far corner, piled high with scatter-.cushions and a thick travel rung.
“We had a sort of transformation scene just after Kevin Dean arrived,” Ann chuckled, remembering. “His flat was in the same shade of olive green with the usual dark brown and mushroom accompaniments, and he said he wouldn’t be able to work if he’d to live with all that horror in his free moments. It caused quite a shindy at the time,” she chuckled. “Dr. Jim was furious. Said he’d put up with the colour scheme ever since he’d first arrived and he’d no cause to complain, but he didn’t complain either when they moved in on him and did his flat out too. Kevin says it’s a really comfortable and tasteful flat now, and from him that’s high praise indeed.”
Nurse Kelsey Abroad Page 3