by Betty Neels
She beamed round the table, a small waif of a girl with big blue eyes and fair hair. `He's a smasher-my dears, you should just see him. Enormous and very tall, blue eyes and very fair hair, nicely grey at the sides. He's operating again at ten o'clock and when Sister Tucker heard about him she said she'd scrub...'
There was a ripple of laughter; Sister Tucker was getting on a bit and as theatre superintendent very seldom took a case. `Bet you wish you were on duty, Gill,' said someone and then, `What about you, Sophie? Did you see this marvellous man?'
Sophie bit into her toast. `Yes, he came into the accident room with Peter Small-I believe he's just arrived here.' She took another bite and her companions asked impatiently,
`Well, what's he like? Did you take a good look... ?"
'Not really; he's tall and large...' She glanced round her. `There wasn't much chance...'
`Oh, hard luck, and you're not likely to see him again-Gill's the lucky one.'
`Who's got nights off?' someone asked.
The lucky ones were quick to say, and someone said, `And you, Sophie? Aren't you due this weekend?"
'Yes, but Ida Symonds is ill again, so I'll have to do her weekend. Never mind, I shall take a whole week when she comes back.' She put up a shapely hand to cover a yawn. 'I'm for bed.'
They left the table in twos and threes and went along to the changing-room and presently went their various ways. The professor, on the point of getting out of the silver-grey Bentley he had parked in the forecourt, watched Sophie come out of the entrance, reach the street and cross over before he got out of the car and made his unhurried way to the theatre, where Sister Tucker awaited him.
Sophie, in her flatlet, making a cup of tea and seeing to Mabel's breakfast, found herself thinking about the professor; she was unwilling to admit it, but she would like to meet him again. Perhaps, she thought guiltily, she had been a bit rude when they had met on her way to the children's ward. And why had he said that he hoped for a more fortunate meeting?
She wasn't a conceited girl, but she knew that she was nice-looking-she was too big to be called pretty and, though she was, she had never thought of herself as beautiful. She never lacked invitations to go out with the house doctors, something she occasionally did, but she was heart-whole and content to stay as she was until the right man came along. Only just lately she had had one or two uneasy twinges about that; she had had several proposals and
refused them in the nicest possible way, waiting for the vague and unknown dream man who would sweep her off her feet and leave no room for doubts...
Presently she went to bed with Mabel for company and slept at once, ignoring the good advice offered by her landlady, who considered that a brisk walk before bed was the correct thing to do for those who were on night duty. That she had never been on night duty in her life and had no idea what that entailed was beside the point. Besides, the East End of London was hardly conducive to a walk, especially when there was still a faint drizzle left over from the day before.
Sophie wakened refreshed, took a bath, attended to Mabel, and, still in her dressinggown, made a pot of tea and sat down by the gas fire to enjoy it. She had taken the first delicious sip when someone knocked at the door.
Sophie put down her cup and muttered crossly at Mabel, who muttered back. Miss Phipps, a deeply suspicious person, collected her rent weekly, and it was Friday. Sophie picked up her purse and opened the door.
Only it wasn't Miss Phipps; it was Professor van Taak ter Wij sma.
She opened her mouth, but before she could utter a squeak he laid a finger upon it.
`Your good landlady,' said the professor in a voice strong enough to be heard by that lady lurking at the bottom of the stairs, `has kindly allowed me to visit you on a matter of some importance.' As he spoke he pushed her gently back into the room and closed the door behind them both...
`Well,' said Sophie with a good deal of heat, `what in heaven's name are you doing here? Go away at once.' She remembered that she was still in her dressing-gown, a rather fetching affair in quilted rose-pink satin. `I'm not dressed...'
`I had noticed, but let me assure you that since I have five sisters girls in dressing-gowns hold no surprises for me.' He added thoughtfully, `Although I must admit that this one becomes you very well.'
`What's so important?' snapped Sophie. `I can't imagine what it can be.'
`No, no, how could you?' He spoke soothingly. `I am going to Liverpool tomorrow and I shall be back on Wednesday. I thought that a drive into the country when you come off duty might do you good-fresh air, you know... I'll have to have you back here by one o'clock and you can go straight to bed.'
He was strolling around the room, looking at everything. `Why do you live in this terrible room with that even more terrible woman who is your landlady?"
'Because it's close to the hospital and I can't afford anything better.' She added, `Oh, do go away. I can't think why you came.'
`Why, to tell you that I will pick you up on Wednesday morning-from here?-and take you for an airing. Your temper will be improved by a peaceful drive.'
She stood in front of him, trying to find the right words, so that she could tell him just what she thought of him, but she couldn't think of them. He said gently, 'I'll be here at half-past nine.' He had picked up Mabel, who had settled her small furry head against his shoulder, purring with pleasure.
Sophie had the outrageous thought that the shoulder would be very nice to lean against; she had the feeling that she was standing in a strong wind and being blown somewhere. She heard herself saying, `Oh, all right, but I can't think why. And do go; I'm on duty in half an hour...'
'I'll be downstairs waiting for you; we can walk back together. Don't be long, for I think that I shall find Miss Phipps a trying conversationalist.'
He let himself out, leaving her to dress rapidly, do her hair and face, and make suitable arrangements for Mabel's comfort during the night, and while she did that she thought about the professor. An arrogant type, she told herself, used to having influence and his own way and doubtless having his every whim pandered to. Just because he had happened to be there when she'd needed help with that wretched shoe didn't mean that he could scrape acquaintance with her. `I shall tell him that I have changed my mind,' she told Mabel. `There is absolutely no reason why I should go out with him.'
She put the little cat in her basket, picked up her shoulder-bag, and went downstairs.
Miss Phipps, pink-cheeked and wig slightly askew, was talking animatedly to the professor, describing with a wealth of detail just how painful were her bunions. The professor, who had had nothing to do with bunions for years, listened courteously, and gravely advised a visit to her own doctor. Then he bade her an equally courteous goodnight and swept Sophie out into the damp darkness.
`I dislike this road,' he observed, taking her arm.
For some reason his arm worried her. She said, knowing that she was being rude, `Well, you don't have to live in it, do you?'
His answer brought her up short. `My poor girl, you should be living in the country-open fields and hedgerows...'
`Well, I do,' she said waspishly. `My home is in the country.'
`You do not wish to work near your home?' The question was put so casually that she answered without thinking.
`Well, that would be splendid, but it's miles from anywhere. Besides, I can get there easily enough from here.'
He didn't comment on her unconscious contradiction, and since they were already in the forecourt of St Agnes's he made some remark about the hospital and, once inside its doors, bade her a civil goodnight and went away in the direction of the consultant's room.
In the changing-room, full of night sisters getting into their uniforms, she heard Gill's voice from the further end. `He's been operating for most of the day,' she was saying. `I dare say he'll have a look at his patients this evening-men's surgical. I shall make an excuse to go down there to borrow something. Kitty-' Kitty was the night sister there
>
give me a ring when he does. He's going away tomorrow, did you know?' She addressed her companions at large. `But he'll be back.'
`How do you know?' someone asked.
`Oh, I phoned Theatre Sister earlier this evening-had a little gossip...'
They all laughed, and although Sophie laughed too she felt a bit guilty, but somehow she couldn't bring herself to tell them about her unexpected visitor that evening, nor the conversation she had had with him. She didn't think anyone would believe her anyway. She wasn't sure if she believed it herself.
Several busy nights brought her to Wednesday morning and the realisation that since she hadn't seen the professor she hadn't been able to refuse to go out with him. `I shall do so if and when he comes,' she told Mabel, who went on cleaning her whiskers, quite unconcerned.
Sophie had had far too busy a night and she pottered rather grumpily around her room, not sure whether to have her bath first or a soothing cup of tea. She had neither. Miss Phipps, possibly scenting romance, climbed the stairs to tell her that she was wanted on the phone. `That nice gentleman,' she giggled, `said I was to get you out of the bath if necessary.' She caught Sophie's fulminating eye and added hastily, `Just his little joke; gentlemen do like their little jokes...'
Sophie choked back a rude answer and went downstairs, closely followed by her landlady, who, although she went into her room, took care to leave the door slightly open.
`Hello,' said Sophie in her haughtiest voice.
`As cross as two sticks,' answered the professor's placid voice. `I shall be with you in exactly ten minutes.'
He hung up before she could utter a word. She put the receiver back and the phone rang again and when she picked it up he said, `If you aren't at the door I shalll come up for you. Don't worry, I'll bring Miss Phipps with me as a chaperon.'
Sophie thumped down the receiver once more, ignored Miss Phipps's inquisitive face peering round her door, and took herself back to her room. `I don't want to go out,' she told Mabel. `It's the very last thing I want to do.'
All the same, she did things to her face and hair and put on her coat, assured Mabel that she wouldn't be away for long, and went downstairs again with a minute to spare.
The professor was already there, exchanging small talk with Miss Phipps, who gave Sophie an awfully sickening roguish look and said something rather muddled about pretty girls not needing beauty sleep if there was something better to do. Sophie cast her a look of outrage and bade the professor a frosty good morning, leaving him to make his polite goodbyes to her landlady, before she was swept out into the chilly morning and into the Bentley's welcoming warmth.
It was disconcerting when he remained silent, driving the car out of London on the A12 and, once clear of the straggling suburbs, turning off on to a side-road into the Essex countryside, presently turning off again on to an even smaller road, apparently leading to nowhere.
`Feeling better?' he asked her.
`Yes,' said Sophie, and added, `Thank you.'
`Do you know this part of the world?' His voice was quiet.
`No, at least not the side-roads; it's not as quick...' She stopped just in time.
`I suppose it's quicker for you to turn off at Romford and go through Chipping Ongar?'
She turned to look at him, but he was gazing ahead, his profile calm.
`How did you know where I live?' She had been comfortably somnolent, but now she was wide awake.
`I asked Peter Small; do you mind?"
'Mind? I don't know; I can't think why you should want to know. Were you just being curious?"
'No, no, I never give way to idle curiosity. Now if I'm right there's a nice little pub in the next village-we might get coffee there.'
The pub was charming, clean and rather bare, with not a fruit machine in sight. There was a log fire smouldering in the vast stone fireplace, with an elderly dog stretched out before it, and the landlord, pleased to have custom before the noonday locals arrived, offered a plate of hot buttered toast to devour with the coffee.
Biting into her third slice, Sophie asked, `Why did you want to know?' Mellowed by the toast and the coffee, she felt strangely friendly towards her companion.
'I'm not sure if you would believe me if I told you. Shall I say that, despite a rather unsettled start, I feel that we might become friends?"
'What would be the point? I mean, we don't move in the same circles, do we? You live in Holland-don't you?-and I live here. Besides, we don't know anything about each other.'
`Exactly. It behoves us to remedy that, does it not? You have nights off at the weekend? I'll drive you home.'
`Drive me home,' repeated Sophie, parrotfashion. `But what am I to say to Mother... ?"
'My dear girl, don't tell me that you haven't been taken home by any number of young men..."
'Well, yes, but you're different.'
`Older?' He smiled suddenly and she discovered that she liked him more than she had thought. `Confess that you feel better, Sophie; you need some male companionship-nothing serious, just a few pleasant hours from time to time. After all, as you said, I live in Holland.'
`Are you married?'
He laughed gently. `No, Sophie-and you?'
She shook her head and smiled dazzlingly. `It would be nice to have a casual friend... I'm not sure how I feel. Do we know each other well enough for me to go to sleep on the way back?'
CHAPTER TWO
So SOPHIE slept, her mouth slightly open, her head lolling on the professor's shoulder, to be gently roused at Miss Phipps's door, eased out of the car, still not wholly awake, and ushered into the house.
`Thank you very much,' said Sophie. `That was a very nice ride.' She stared up at him, her eyes huge in her tired face.
`Is ten o'clock too early for you on Saturday?'
`No. Mabel has to come too...'
`Of course. Sleep well, Sophie.'
He propelled her gently to the stairs and watched her climb them and was in turn watched by Miss Phipps through her half-open door. When he heard Sophie's door shut he wished a slightly flustered Miss Phipps good morning and took himself off.
Sophie told herself that it was a change of scene which had made her feel so pleased with life. She woke up with the pleasant feeling that something nice had happened. True, the professor had made some rather strange remarks, and perhaps she had said rather more than she had intended, but her memory was a little hazy, for she had been very tired, and there was no use worrying about that now. It would be delightful to be driven home on Saturday...
Casualty was busy when she went on duty that evening, but there was nothing very serious and nothing at all in the accident room; she went to her midnight meal so punctually that various of her friends commented upon it.
`What's happened to you, Sophie?' asked Gill. `You look as though you've won the pools.'
`Or fallen in love,' said someone from the other side of the table. `Who is it, Sophie?"
'Neither-I had a good sleep, and it's a quiet night, thank heaven.'
`If you say so,' said Gill. `I haven't won the pools-something much more exciting. That lovely man is operating at eight o'clock
tomorrow morning. I have offered to lay up for Sister Tucker-' there was a burst of laughter ` just so that everything would be ready for him, and I shan't mind if I'm a few minutes late off duty.' She smiled widely. `Especially if I should happen to bump into him.'
Joan Middleton, in charge of men's medical, the only one of them who was married and therefore not particularly interested, observed in her matter-of-fact way, `Probably he's married with half a dozen children-he's not all that young, is he?"
'He's not even middle-aged,' said Gill sharply. 'Sophie, you've seen him. He's still quite young-in his thirties, wouldn't you think?'
Sophie looked vague. `Probably.' She took another piece of toast and reached for the marmalade.
Gill said happily, `Well, I dare say he falls for little wistful women, like me...' And although Sophie laughe
d with the rest of them, she didn't feel too sure about that. No, that wouldn't do at all, she reflected. Just because he had taken her for a drive didn't mean that he had any interest in her; indeed, it might be a cunning way of covering his real interest in Gill, who, after all, was exactly the type of girl a man would fall for. Never mind that she was the soul of efficiency in Theatre; once out of uniform, she became helpless, wistful and someone to be cherished. Helplessness and wistfulness didn't sit happily on Sophie.
Sophie saw nothing of the professor for the few nights left before she was due for nights off. She heard a good deal about him, though, for Gill had contrived to waylay him in Theatre before she went off duty and was full of his good looks and charm; moreover, when she went on duty the following night there had been an emergency operation and he was still in Theatre, giving her yet another chance to exchange a few words with him.