by Betty Neels
Alexandra agreed, wondering how the conversation had got around to muffins. There were a lot of questions she would have liked to have asked, but it was a little difficult to drop them lightly between the tea cakes. And Miss Thrums showed no signs of abandoning her theme; Alexandra learned more about The Hague in the next ten minutes than at any time in her life, it was only when Miss Thrums paused and said quite unexpectedly: ‘I was devoted to my sister,’ that she realized that her companion had been talking largely for the sake of something to say. ‘Taro’s mother, you know,’ said Miss Thrums. ‘I spent a good deal of time here while she was alive. Taro still has his father, of course—I think you would like him—and he has his sisters. His father is visiting one of them at present, although normally he lives at De Kaag, which I expect you have discovered is quite near here. He has a charming house there now that he has retired; he is often here, too.’ She put down her knitting. ‘Taro was such a naughty little boy,’ she mused, apropos of nothing. ‘Shall we go to bed, my dear?’
Alexandra got down early to breakfast and so, to her surprise, did Miss Thrums. The doctor was already there, sitting at the table, going through his post. He got up as they joined him, inquired as to their night, reassured them as to the conditions of the household pets, enjoined Alexandra to make a good breakfast and then sat down again to finish his toast and coffee as well as his correspondence. When he had finished all three, he asked: ‘Five minutes suit you?’ and left them.
She stopped crumbling toast and put down her half full cup of coffee. She felt sick, not at the prospect of a new job, but at the idea of leaving the house and never seeing Taro again. She stared at her plate wishing she could tell Miss Thrums just how she felt. After a moment she said in a wooden voice: ‘I’ve loved every minute of staying with you, Miss Thrums. You’ve been very kind, not just to Penny, but to me too, I’ll never forget it—and your little cottage and the garden.’ She sighed. ‘It was a cobweb morning,’ she went on, an incoherent remark which her hearer shouldn’t have understood in the least, but she did.
‘I know, my dear. Fairyland—it always is when the right person is with you. I’ve enjoyed having you; if I had married and had a daughter, I should have liked her to have been just like you. Now run along and put on your coat, Alexandra, you mustn’t keep Taro waiting. I believe he has a lecture to give after he has handed you over.’
When Alexandra got down to the hall again, she found it very nicely filled; as well as Taro there was Aunty, Pieters, Nel and Bet the cook as well as the dear old man who pottered in the garden. She shook hands with them all, ending with Miss Thrums, who kissed her soundly and assured her that they were bound to meet again, sooner or later, and when she reached Taro’s side, he said briskly: ‘Shall we get started? We can leave our farewells for the moment, can’t we?’
He ushered her outside, and if she had felt sentimental about leaving his matter-of-fact words cured her immediately. She got into the Rolls beside him and beyond a final wave to the little group of people standing in the porch, she sat like a statue. If he wanted to talk, she decided, thoroughly out of humour, let him begin the conversation. But apparently he didn’t. They tore with silent power down the motorway and it wasn’t until they reached the outskirts of The Hague, with barely fourteen miles to go, that he spoke.
‘Have you enough money?’ he asked her.
It was the last thing she had thought about; she had spent hardly any of her salary although in Rotterdam, being on her own, she might need to use a good deal more of it, even then, she had enough. She said, ‘Yes, thank you,’ and looked away, out of the window.
He didn’t speak again until they were passing Delft; the town stood a little way off from the motorway, its spires and towers intriguing in the dull grey morning light. ‘I suppose there’s a good bus service?’ she asked, thinking of days off to be filled.
‘You would like to visit Delft? It is charming, although I prefer Leiden, naturally enough, I suppose. You liked it too?’
‘What I saw of it appeared delightful.’ She was stopped by his low laugh.
‘My poor Miss Dobbs, how dull a life you have been forced to lead! You must do some sightseeing before you go back home—you will be going to your home?’
‘I think so—I may look for a job first.’
‘And where will you do that?’
‘Oh, London.’
He had nothing to say to that but: ‘There’s the hospital ahead of us.’
It was a modern building, very high and narrow, set in the centre of a complexity of busy streets. It seemed to Alexandra, watching the traffic racing about like mad ants, that she would never dare venture from its door once she was inside.
The traffic appeared to hold no terrors for the doctor. He cut through it skilfully, drew up before the entrance and walked her inside. The hall was large and reminded her forcibly of a railway station; there were flower shops, newspaper kiosks, even a small cafeteria in one corner. He marched her past these, skirted an enormous internal telephone switchboard, and started up the stone steps to the next floor, where she was relieved to find he intended to take the lift.
‘The sixth floor,’ he mentioned casually, ‘that is where you will be working. Doctor Viske should be there now.’
The lift stopped and he whisked her out and across a large, wide-windowed vestibule, knocked on a door and ushered her in.
The man sitting at the desk was about the doctor’s own age, but small and in comparison to his bulk, slight. He got up as they went in, greeted them in English, held a short conversation with Alexandra about her work, nodded pleasantly as if satisfied with her and said: ‘If you would come on duty at midday?’ He pressed a bell on his desk. ‘Coffee first, though, then I’ll get someone to show you where your room is and explain about the meals and so on. We do the shift system here—you’ll be on duty until nine o’clock this evening, but the Hoofd Zuster will give you all the details.’ He smiled at her. ‘I hope you will be very happy while you’re here, Miss Dobbs.’
The coffee came, and the two men, with a murmur of apology, lapsed into their own language briefly and then, as though to make up for it, plied her with questions as to her impressions of Holland. She answered them readily, but mindful of Miss Thrums’ warning, suggested very soon that she should go and unpack and collect her uniform. Going down in the lift a few minutes later in the company of a big blonde, smiling nurse, she reflected that the parting she had been worrying about; making up speeches, deciding what she would say and trying to guess what Taro would say, hadn’t been worth so much thought; it had been a matter of shaking his hand and wishing him good-bye—as simple as that, what else had been possible under the friendly eye of Doctor Viske? And Taro had shown no sign of regret, his smile had been cheerful, his farewells casually friendly. Probably he was glad to be rid of her, although there was no good in brooding over it. Alexandra gave herself a metaphorical shake and followed her guide up one passage and down another until they reached the nurses’ home and her room.
Her case was already there, and the nurse, whose English was really very good, sat down in the small easy chair by the writing table under the window. ‘I will stay,’ she explained smilingly. ‘If you will see to your clothes and put on the dress and cap?’ she waved at these garments, laid out neatly on the narrow bed, ‘and while you do this, I will tell you all.’
It was a splendid arrangement. By the time Alexandra had changed into the white uniform and perched the cap on her neat head, she was in possession of all the important points appertaining to life in the hospital. Very like home, she thought with a little pang of longing, and then told herself not to be silly; she would be in Rotterdam for such a short time, and it was a wonderful opportunity to see how they did things in a Dutch hospital.
Almost exactly as they did them in an English one, she had to confess a few hours later; save for the Dutch voices around her, she might have been at St Job’s—the equipment was the same, the patients, once they were unconsc
ious, were the same, the nurses did precisely the same as she did and all the doctors and surgeons spoke English, as did a great many of the nurses. She went off duty that evening, tired after a busy day, but knowing that there was nothing about her new job to make her nervous.
She was on duty at eight o’clock the following morning and would be free at half past four; before she slept she decided to take a look at Rotterdam—one of the staff nurses had offered to go with her and it would fill the evening nicely. She saw that life, for the time being at least, would be composed of activities with which to fill any free time she had, for that was the only way in which she was going to forget Taro.
The theatre block was busy the next day; she took her meals how and when she could in company with the other nurses, who grumbled good-naturedly about long hours and too much work and not enough money, so that she felt quite at home, they advised her as to the best way to see Rotterdam, too. There was the Boymans’ museum, they told her, and a bus tour she could take through the city with a guide aboard to tell her all about it as they went, and a shopping precinct, a large one, they enthused, where she could buy anything she might want. And she must see the Town Hall, they chorused, on the Coolsingel, one of the few buildings to have survived the bombing in 1940, and after that the Bijenkorf, close by, one of the biggest department stores.
She listened to them all; it was apparent that she would have plenty to do while she was in Rotterdam and she was busy planning her evening as she went back to work. She would have to go alone after all, for the girl who had offered to accompany her had had her off duty changed and wouldn’t be free. It didn’t really matter, though, she had some idea of the city now and once she found her way to the Coolsingel she could get her bearings.
The streets looked crowded as she left the hospital, and the traffic seemed to be coming from every direction. There was a pedestrian crossing close by; she joined the crowd waiting impatiently to get to the other side, and was swept along to the opposite pavement. There was another road to cross here and so many people by now that the traffic island barely contained them. Alexandra warded off elbows, nudges and pushes and hoped that her boots would stand up to the trampling they were getting, but when an arm was tucked under her elbow, she felt that to be a bit much; she wriggled her arm to free it, and when nothing happened, put up her other hand to prise it loose. It was caught and held gently in a grip which made light of her tugs.
‘Don’t, dear girl,’ said Taro from somewhere behind her. ‘If I let you go now, I’ll never find you again in this mob.’ He was beside her now. ‘Where are you going?’
‘For a walk.’ She was having difficulty with her breathing.
She heard his chuckle. ‘Good lord, girl, in the rush hour in Rotterdam?’ The crowd milling round them suddenly surged forward again, streaming away from them across the road, and another crowd, coming from the opposite direction, took its place. Taro turned her smartly round and regained the pavement she had just left and they were actually back again in the hospital forecourt before she said: ‘Look, I’ve just come from here.’
‘The car’s here. Are you hungry?’
She was, but mere hunger wasn’t going to weaken her; she had said good-bye to him once, she didn’t want to go through all that again. ‘I have my evening planned,’ she told him firmly.
‘Now that is a coincidence; so have I. There’s a rather nice place where we can eat in Vlaardingen—the Delta, lovely views and good food.’ He smiled down at her. ‘The car’s here.’
He ushered her into it with a swift ease which didn’t allow her so much as a protesting breath, but she made one more try as he got in beside her. ‘Look, Doctor van Dresselhuys, it’s very kind of you, but we said good-bye yesterday…’
‘Taro. I can’t quite see what that has to do with it; I didn’t say good-bye, even if you did, and I’ve only asked you out to a meal.’
He had eased the car into the traffic, sliding through it with practised skill. ‘I’d like to hear what you think of the hospital—over dinner, and I’ve a message from Aunty. I was to be sure and tell you that she misses you—I think everyone misses you.’
She relaxed a little. ‘And Butch—is he all right? And Nibbles and Kiki?’
‘Going along nicely. Butch has a nasty bruise on one shoulder, from that bar, probably. He’s making the most of it and getting very spoiled. The cats seem none the worse—thanks to you.’ They were almost clear of Rotterdam and already in the outskirts of Schiedam. He went on: ‘I made a few inquiries about Penny.’
That, she supposed, was to be expected. ‘She’s all right?’ she asked.
‘She went to the boy-friend, I understand. There’ll be a certain amount of inquiries from the police—she will have to make some sort of statement.’
They were almost in Vlaardingen, the towns were so close together they might have been one. ‘Did—did you speak to her?’
He threw her a sidelong glance. ‘No, Alexandra, I didn’t.’ He had turned off the main road and was driving slowly towards the river. ‘Here we are,’ he said, and parked the car. As they went into the restaurant she realized that he wasn’t going to say any more about Penny, not that evening, at any rate.
They went up to the bar on the fifth floor and had a leisurely drink while they watched the boats passing up and down the river below them, and Alexandra regretted very much that she hadn’t been given the chance to dress up a little. She went away to leave her tweed coat, casting a resigned look at her skirted and sweatered reflection, and when she rejoined Taro she said apologetically: ‘I’m sorry I’m not in the right clothes, but this was a bit unexpected.’
‘You look very nice.’ It was the kind of remark most men make, but he sounded as though he really meant it; she smiled, feeling more at ease because of it, and obediently studied the menu the waiter had offered her.
They dined superbly on smoked eel on toast, Steak Orloff, and then for Alexandra there was a rich confection of ice cream cunningly mixed with fruit and whipped cream, while Taro chose the cheese board. They sat a long time over their meal and even longer over their coffee, and Alexandra, well mellowed by the excellent hock Taro had chosen, forgot for the moment that she would probably not see him again once their evening was over, and enjoyed herself.
It was only on the way back that the hock lost its magic and she became more and more silent, so that Taro asked: ‘Tired, Alexandra? Thoughtless of me to have kept you out of your bed so late.’
‘I’m not tired,’ she assured him hastily, ‘and it’s been a lovely evening.’ She came to a halt there, unable to think of anything else to say. It had been a lovely evening, although she suspected that she had talked too much, not only about the hospital and her work, but about her home and her plans for the future, but at least she hadn’t mentioned Penny once.
The eight miles or so to Rotterdam took only a few minutes, the hospital loomed before them, its shaded lights dimmed for the night. Taro stopped the car outside the main entrance and got out and opened her door, then walked with her to the nurses’ home beside the hospital. At its door she paused and put out a hand. ‘It was a lovely evening and thank you very much. Good-bye.’
He had her hand fast between his. ‘Can you be ready by nine o’clock on Thursday?’ he wanted to know.
‘Thursday?’ She blinked at him. ‘That’s my…’ She stopped herself just in time from saying that it was her day off.
‘Days off—Thursday and Friday, and I hope that you will spend them at my home, dear Miss Dobbs. I shall be in Leiden, of course, but Aunty particularly asked for you.’
The delight which had bubbled up inside her trickled slowly away; he was just being kind. For a moment she toyed with the idea of refusing his invitation, then remembered Miss Thrums, who was a dear old thing and would perhaps enjoy her company. ‘How kind,’ she said with careful coolness to make his eyes twinkle. ‘I shall be glad to see Miss Thrums again.’ She pulled her hand gently, but nothing happened, he still held it fi
rm.
‘I hope that you will be glad to see me again, too,’ he said softly, and bent to kiss her. ‘You may have your hand back now. Good night.’
Alexandra wasn’t sure what she answered, it was to be hoped that it was something more coherent than her thoughts. She went quietly up the endless stairs to bed, undressing in a dreamlike world of excited thoughts. She would lie awake, she promised herself, and go over the evening very carefully, remembering everything he had said… She was asleep within five minutes.
CHAPTER EIGHT
THURSDAY was several days away; viewed in the light of an early morning in winter, as Alexandra dressed to go on duty, they seemed diuturnal, but once in the dining-room drinking her coffee and eating bread and butter and slices of cheese with the other girls, life took on a brighter aspect. Her companions were nice to her, chattering away in their school English, laughing at their mistakes and egging her on to have a go in their own language. It was a heavy morning in theatre too, and escorting patients from their wards to the anaesthetic room and then recovering them after the surgeons had finished their work gave her no time to ponder her own affairs. She was working as a staff nurse now, too, which made a nice change from her Sister’s duties at St Job’s.
The list went on steadily into the afternoon and they went in twos and threes to their dinners. It was half past four when Alexandra went off duty, and this time, with one of the other nurses acting as guide, she ventured out into the city. She found it a little modern for her taste and so unlike Leiden that it seemed strange to think that two such different places could be so close to each other. But it was fun looking in the shop windows and comparing prices and then going to a modest little café for coffee.