by Betty Neels
‘Don’t we all?’ he observed lightly. ‘And you would be surprised at the number of patients I have had who take one’s skills for granted and don’t say thank you.’
‘You find that?’ She was astonished. ‘I should have thought they would have been so thankful—I mean, quite a lot of them might have died because there was no one to give them a complicated anaesthetic.’
‘I only hope that we can deal with little Shirley—has she good parents?’
‘No. They left her with her granny—no one knows where they are now.’
‘All the more reason to turn her into as pretty a girl as possible! Mr Spence is a wizard with a scalpel, you know.’
They were having their coffee in the drawing-room before he told her about Marc. The little boy was doing well and Tine was a great success, although he still had brief bouts of childish rage. ‘Emmie sends her love and hopes they will all see you again some time.’
‘That would be nice.’ Caroline wished she could think of something interesting to say. Actually it surprised her that she could talk at all, for just being with him was enough to render her speechless, which wouldn’t do at all. She must at all costs preserve a placid front, just as though she hadn’t the least interest in him. All the same, while they sat there and he kept a flow of undemanding talk going, she wondered about him. She knew all about his love-affair, but that had been years ago, Corinna had told her that, and from remarks Mevrouw van Houben had passed she rather gathered that he knew a great many people and any one of them must be the kind of woman he would marry—tall and graceful and always suitably dressed. She hadn’t a chance, even if she were silly enough to try and interest him… She was sure he hadn’t noticed her new clothes or the way she had done her hair.
Mr van Houben, rambling on about the pleasures of gardening, watched her from under his lids and felt a faint stirring of interest. She was quite different from any other girl he knew, and she was making no effort to engage his attention; indeed she was only half listening to what he was saying. He wondered what was going on inside that mousy head—there was more to the girl than one would suppose. He found himself thinking that it might be very interesting to find out.
He finally drove her back to the hospital and went in with her.
She stopped just outside the entrance to thank him. ‘It was a lovely lunch,’ she told him, ‘and I did enjoy the afternoon. Thank you very much, Mr van Houben.’
He smiled down at her earnest face. ‘The pleasure was mine, Caroline,’ he told her, and he meant it.
CHAPTER SEVEN
CAROLINE saw Mr van Houben an hour later, only this time he took no notice of her except to request this or that as he began the delicate job of anaesthetising Shirley, a procedure which took all his attention, and when presently a theatre nurse came to relieve Caroline he dismissed her with a nod and a, ‘Thank you, Nurse,’ uttered in a cool, detached voice.
It would be late in the evening before Shirley would be back on the ward; Caroline made up the bed in one of the side-rooms, made sure that the equipment was in order and went to have her tea. The night nurse was to come on duty at ten o’clock that evening, and since Shirley would spend the first hour or so in the recovery-room Caroline helped around the ward and went to her supper at seven o’clock. The day staff had gone off duty and the two nurses who would look after the ward during the night were already busy tucking the children up for the night. Sister Crump was in her office, where Caroline knew she would stay until Shirley was safely back in her bed.
The child was brought back just after nine o’clock and by the time Sister Crump and Caroline had settled the unconscious little form and connected up the drip, attached her to the monitoring system and seen that all was as it should be, the night nurse had come on duty. Shirley wouldn’t wake for some time, but when she did, Mr Spence warned, she would need very careful nursing. The nasal feeding tube was already in position and great care must be taken to see that it didn’t become dislodged. The operation had been a success and later he would need to do some plastic surgery on the lip. He added irritably, ‘A pity she wasn’t referred to me sooner.’
Mr van Houben came next, pronounced himself satisfied with Shirley’s condition, gave Sister Crump a telephone number where he might be reached should he be needed, and with a quiet goodnight went away again, leaving Caroline to hand over to the night nurse and take herself off to bed.
She was tired, but not too tired to think about Mr van Houben before she slept.
She had little time to think about him during the next few days. Shirley was a difficult patient and, unlike a very small baby, aware that there was something wrong, yet not old enough to have things explained to her.
She was small and undernourished and looked far younger than her eighteen months. Caroline found it sad that the small creature had had very little love in her short life and easily forgave her for her tantrums and grizzling, but she made tiring work all the same.
Mr Spence came each day, but of Mr van Houben there was no sign. She thought that he might have gone back to Holland but there was no one she could ask; Sister Crump would tell her it was none of her business in her gruff way and the night nurse was a girl senior to her whom she didn’t know well. It was a week before she met Corinna going on duty one morning.
‘No time to talk,’ said that young lady. ‘I’m late again. Did you see Marius?’
‘Yes—yes, I did, when he was here for Shirley’s operation.’
‘Pity he didn’t stay longer; he had to get back for some meeting or other then he was off to the States… must fly.’
She sped away, and Caroline, her head full of what little news Corinna had given her, went on duty too.
She went to Basing for her days off and found Aunt Meg and Theobald very soothing to her troubled thoughts; it was easier to forget about Mr van Houben now that she was away from the hospital and the chance of seeing him again, and Aunt Meg’s sensible observation that it was a good thing that she hadn’t stayed in Holland too long, for it might have unsettled her, warned her that she was unsettled already and likely to stay that way unless she became her sensible self once more. She went back to the hospital full of good intentions, but since there was no sign of Mr van Houben she was unable to try them out, though she did fill her off-duty hours with activity: playing tennis on the hard court at the back of the nurses’ home, going window-shopping with whoever of her friends were off duty, studying hard instead of dreaming; but even with all this she still thought of him before she slept at night, wondering what he was doing.
It was several days later that Mr Spence brought a new houseman on his round. A thin, tall young man who looked vaguely unhappy. He had nice eyes behind spectacles but his ears stuck out and his hair was unruly above a face which held no good looks at all, except that when he caught Caroline’s eye and smiled tentatively she saw that he was really quite nice.
He came along the next morning, to take a sample of blood from one of the children, and she was sent to hold the child while he did it.
‘You’ve just come?’ said Caroline, stating the obvious for lack of anything interesting to say and wanting to put him at his ease.
‘Two days ago. It’s all a bit strange. I don’t know London at all—I’m from Birmingham, doing a six-month course in paediatrics. Do you live here?’
‘No, in a village in the country—not far away, though.’ She had the small boy on her lap, his head tucked into her shoulder, his small h
ands firmly held, his jacket already rolled up. ‘He’ll scream,’ she warned, ‘but don’t let it worry you, he’ll be all right. I’ve a sweetie in my pocket for him.’
He looked as though he would be nervous and clumsy but he wasn’t; true, the child screamed, but Caroline was quick with the sweetie and a cuddle and the screams dwindled into gulping breaths and then, when she blew into his small neck, chuckles.
‘What’s your name?’ He was tidying up after himself very neatly.
‘Caroline Frisby.’
‘Robert Brewster.’ He smiled; he had a very nice smile. ‘I say, would you come out with me one evening? Just for a sandwich or something…’ His eyes behind the glasses looked anxious. ‘I don’t know anyone…’
She wasn’t sure if that was a compliment. ‘Yes, I’d like that. I’m off duty on Friday evening and on Sunday, I’ll call at the lodge on my way off duty—you can leave a message there.’
‘I say, will you really—you won’t forget?’
‘No.’
There was a note for her on Sunday evening—would she be at the entrance at half-past six? There were no details; she got into the green-patterned two-piece, caught up a cardigan and went punctually to the entrance.
He was waiting for her and met her with a broad smile. ‘I’ve an old car—I thought we might go to Regent’s Park. Do you know the way?’
She said that she did as she got into the battered Mini. ‘There won’t be much traffic,’ she told him. ‘Sunday is a good time to see London.’
He drove well, parked the car at a meter and suggested that they might have something to eat.
‘That would be nice—I’m not very hungry,’ said Caroline, thinking of his pocket. ‘There’s a café on the next corner outside the Park; I dare say it’s open.’
It was. They ate beefburgers and drank several cups of coffee while Robert talked. He was lonely; he hadn’t been in the hospital long enough to get to know any of the other housemen and he had no friends in London. ‘The nurses are all so…’ He paused and she wondered if he had been going to say pretty and decided not to, but he went on, ‘I’m engaged to a girl in Birmingham.’ He added ingenuously, ‘She wouldn’t mind me being friendly with you.’
She supposed that a left-handed compliment was as good as any. ‘You must miss her very much. Once you’re settled in and can arrange a free day you must go and see her, or perhaps she could come here?’
‘Yes, I’ll do that. You don’t mind my telling you about her?’
‘No. What is she like?’ asked Caroline obligingly.
Robert had been waiting for that; he launched into a glowing account of his Miriam which lasted through coffee and Bath buns.
Back at the hospital he thanked her warmly for her company. ‘Could we do it again some time?’ he asked.
‘That would be nice. Do bring a photo of your Miriam.’ She gave him a motherly smile—perhaps it was the unfortunate ears or the spectacles, but he looked as though he needed someone to look after him. ‘Six months isn’t long,’ she added in a comforting voice. ‘Do you plan to go on working in a hospital?’
‘There’s a first-class children’s hospital in Birmingham, I shall try for a job there.’ He beamed at the thought. ‘We could get married…’
‘A very sensible idea,’ said Caroline, and wished him goodnight.
Over the next few weeks she went out with him several times; they had slipped into a kind of brother-sister relationship although the hospital grapevine would have it otherwise. She was on her way to the path lab with some specimens when she met Corinna who put out a hand and stopped her.
‘I’ve been wanting to see you—messages from the family and news of Marc. What’s all this romantic chat about you and our Dr Brewster? Out every night in that car of his—are we listening for wedding bells?’
Caroline laughed. ‘What rubbish—of course not—he’s engaged to a nice girl called Miriam—but he doesn’t feel at home here so I go out with him and we talk—or rather he talks about her. That’s all.’
‘Out of sight, out of mind—you say that, don’t you?’
‘Yes, but he loves her. He’s a friend—nothing more.’
‘It’s time you fell in love,’ said Corinna, and blinked at the tide of warm colour which flooded Caroline’s cheeks and added quickly, ‘I fall in love every few weeks, you know; it’s great fun.’ She smiled widely. ‘I’m late, as always, and so will you be. We must have another evening together soon.’
She was gone, running along the corridor, ignoring hospital rules.
Marius telephoned his cousin that evening to tell her that he would be coming over to London in two days’ time. ‘I’ll take you out to dinner if you can bear with a middle-aged cousin,’ he told her. ‘It will be the last time, I dare say; you leave again soon now, don’t you?’
‘Yes, I’m so excited about it, I’m going to have a lovely holiday—out every night dancing…’
‘You haven’t done so badly in London,’ said Marius drily. ‘Is Caroline still on the children’s ward? She wrote to Emmie but didn’t say where she was working.’
‘Oh, yes, she’s still there,’ said Corinna airily. ‘She’s due for a move soon, though.’ She began to talk about something else; it had been on the tip of her tongue to tell him about Caroline and Robert Brewster but something had made her change her mind. Marius might have asked after her out of politeness; on the other hand, if he was interested, it might shake him up a bit to discover for himself that plain little Caroline was by no means on the shelf yet.
He arranged to call for her in two days’ time, gave her the latest family news and then rang off. Presently he picked up the phone again. Emmie answered. They chatted for a while about Marc’s progress. ‘He’s doing splendidly, but I was wondering if a visit from Caroline might be a good idea.’
‘She writes almost every week and sends little drawings for him, and of course I tell her how he’s getting on; so does Tine. We’d love to have her if she could get a holiday. Have you asked her?’
‘No. It merely crossed my mind. I’m going over to England in a day or so; I’ll see Corinna and probably I’ll see Caroline too and see what she says.’
He put the phone down and applied himself to the notes on the desk before him but presently he pushed them away and Nep, watchful at his feet, wriggled nearer and uttered a hopeful bark.
Mr van Houben bent to scratch Nep’s ear. ‘Not just yet, old fellow. Do you suppose it would be a good idea to see Caroline again? It is a great pity that I am unable to forget her, for I have no reason to remember her except as a good nurse…’
Nep muttered gently and Mr van Houben went on thoughtfully, ‘If I compare her with the other ladies of my acquaintance she is completely outshone; she is, after all, a student nurse, one of hundreds with whom I come in contact almost daily. Granted, she played a large part in getting Marc back on to his feet, but any good nurse could have done that.’ He frowned. ‘No, that is not true, she held on when others might have let him slip through their fingers. But I must not allow gratitude to colour my thoughts about her.’
Nep laid his chin on his master’s shoe and muttered again and Mr van Houben said, ‘I’m glad that you agree with me.’
He called for Corinna two evenings later and had just settled her in the Bentley and was preparing to drive away when Caroline and Robert came out of the hospital entrance. It was the tail-end of a lovely day and Caroline had put on her flowered skirt and the silk
top and done her face and hair with extra care because she had been invited to have a meal with Robert and his Miriam, who had come to London on a short visit. She hadn’t been too keen on going, remembering the old adage about three being a crowd and not fancying playing gooseberry, but Miriam had written her a letter saying how much she wanted to meet her, so Caroline had agreed reluctantly.
Mr van Houben took his hands off the wheel and sat back watching. He said casually, ‘Caroline has a boyfriend?’
‘Oh, Robert Brewster—he’s doing a six-month paediatric course. From Birmingham. He’s rather a dear.’ Corinna took a quick glance at her companion; his face held no expression but she knew him well enough to know that that indicated that he was hiding strong feelings of some sort. She went on cheerfully, ‘He’s got a frightful old Mini. I hear he’s pretty good at his job; even the great Mr Spence thinks well of him.’
They watched the Mini leave the forecourt before Marius drove away in his turn. He didn’t mention Caroline again during the evening, and when they returned to the hospital the Mini was back, parked with the other staff cars.
‘Shall I see you tomorrow?’ said Corinna.
‘I shall be here some time in the morning. There is that burns case they will need me to look at to see if it will be possible to give an anaesthetic.’
‘She’s in our ward—her mouth and throat are badly damaged but I expect that you know all about it.’
‘Yes. I’ve talked with Mr Spence. We must see what can be done. Goodnight, my dear.’
He walked her to the entrance to the nurses’ home and got back into his car and drove himself back to Chiswick. Breeze, silently seeing to the locking up and going to wish his master goodnight, observed to his wife later that Mr Marius seemed quite put out about something. ‘Miss Corinna after him for some more spending money, I dare say,’ he chuckled. ‘We shall miss her when she leaves us.’