Heaven Around the Corner

by Betty Neels

  ‘Women never listen,’ observed Simon Savage nastily. ‘I remember very clearly telling you that I would be here on Saturday evening. I daresay you’re due quite a lot of off duty.’

  ‘Thank you very much,’ said Louisa into the phone, ignoring Mr Savage, ‘I’ll be ready just after six o’clock.’ They wished each other goodbye and she rang off. She said rather snappily to the somnolent Simon Savage: ‘Of course I listened, but how was I to know you meant it?’

  ‘I always mean what I say—you’ll know that in future.’

  She flounced out of the room and by a great effort of will, didn’t bang the door.

  She had a list of shopping to do for Eva and she went first to the fish market, not only to buy fish but to admire the flowers. It amazed her that they were still to be bought in such bitter weather, although at a price she was unable to afford, but just looking at them, spaced out in such an unlikely fashion among the stalls of fish, was a pleasure. She chose her cod with a careful eye, bought a bag of cranberries, went to the little kiosk by the market and bought a Telegraph, then started walking away from the harbour towards the shops, stopping on the way to spend ten minutes in one of the many bookshops. There were as many English paperbacks as there were Norwegian—but then she had come to the conclusion that everyone in Norway must speak English as well as their native tongue. She did a little window-shopping after that; obviously she would have to buy quite a few more clothes and it would be as well to price them first. She wondered how long it would be before Miss Savage would feel like shopping, and when they would be going and how. By air, she supposed; there was an excellent domestic service in the country and surely at this time of year it was the easiest way to travel.

  It might be the easiest way, but it wasn’t going to be their way. She discovered that when she got back to the flat, to find Miss Savage, looking like something just put through the mangle, sitting back against her pillows listening to her stepbrother, who was sitting on the side of the bed, talking to her in a quiet no-nonsense voice. Without turning his head, he said: ‘There you are—just in time to hear the arrangements which have been made. Take off your things and come in here.’

  No please or thank you, grumbled Louisa to herself, and took her time about tidying her hair and putting more powder on her nose. She was rewarded by an impatient frown as she went into the bedroom and sat down meekly on the dressing table stool. ‘Before we start, Miss Savage, is there anything you’d like?’ she asked.

  Her patient shook her head and then winced at the pain. ‘Who cares what I like?’ she moaned, ‘Simon least of all.’

  Mr Savage didn’t appear to hear this; he said at once: ‘The sooner you come the better, and since you refuse to fly, I’ll arrange for you to travel on the coastal steamer. It will probably be rather rough at this time of year, but the journey only takes five days to Tromso and you’ll see some remarkable scenery. In—let me see, today is Wednesday…a week’s time you’ll be met at Tromso, and as it will be afternoon when you get there, you’d better spend the night there and you can finish the trip by launch.’

  ‘No ice?’ asked Louisa a little faintly.

  ‘The Gulf Stream,’ said Simon Savage impatiently. ‘Inland there’s plenty of snow, of course.’

  ‘And are you inland?’

  He shook his head. ‘An arm of Tromso Sound; a little rural perhaps. We’re building a bridge between two islands where it joins the sea, they each have a town and a good scattering of houses but only one road on the larger island.’

  It sounded bleak, thought Louisa, and peeped at Miss Savage’s face. It looked bleak too. ‘It does sound a very interesting journey,’ she said bracingly. ‘Is there anything to do on board?’

  Simon Savage’s firm mouth remained unsmiling. ‘Nothing at all,’ he said blandly.

  Miss Savage burst into tears and he got to his feet. ‘Perhaps tomorrow we should shop for your clothes,’ he observed. ‘As you’re making this unexpected journey, Miss Evans, and you are employed by me, anything you may need will be charged to my account.’

  Miss Savage stopped crying long enough to ask: ‘And what about me?’

  He turned to look at her from the door. ‘When have I ever failed to pay your bills, Claudia?’ he asked and, not waiting for an answer, shut the door.

  The doctor came shortly after that, pronounced Miss Savage fit to get up if she felt like it, made out a prescription for the headache and before leaving, followed Louisa into the sitting room and closed the door.

  ‘Miss Savage should be all right,’ he told her. ‘We must try again, but with discretion. Allow her a drink with her lunch and dinner, Nurse. One glass of whatever she wishes, that is necessary, otherwise the withdrawal symptoms will be too severe. Later, perhaps, we can cut it down to one glass a day, and eventually to none. It is a pity that she has no incentive—if she were married…’ He shook his head and sighed, because there was really nothing much that he could do.

  ‘It needs a miracle,’ said Louisa again.

  She coaxed Miss Savage to eat a little of the light lunch Eva had cooked for her presently and gave her the whisky she asked for, and then to distract her attention from her craving, made a great business of making a list of the clothes they were to buy. Miss Savage even got out of bed towards evening, and though she shivered and shook alarmingly, she spent an hour discussing her wardrobe. No expense was to be spared, Louisa noted, but if Simon Savage was prepared to foot the bills, it was no concern of hers. She tucked her patient up presently, gave her supper and another ration of whisky and then, after her own supper, sat up until midnight until she was quite sure that Miss Savage was soundly asleep.

  It was after lunch before Simon Savage came, which was a good thing, because his stepsister had wakened in a bad humour, declaring that she couldn’t live unless she had a drink at that very minute and throwing her breakfast tray at Louisa. But somehow, now that she knew what was wrong, Louisa didn’t mind too much. True, there was an awful lot of mopping up to be done, but she was beginning to feel sorry for Miss Savage now and even to like her a little. After a good deal of coaxing, Miss Savage consented to get dressed and by the time Mr Savage rang the bell, she was at least approachable.

  Mr Savage had taken the precaution of hiring a taxi for the afternoon. It took them from shop to shop and the driver waited patiently outside each one. It certainly made shopping easy, and since Louisa didn’t have to worry too much about prices, she began to enjoy herself in a modest way. True, she didn’t insist on a fur-lined jacket, a fur cap and suede slacks, but she was quite content with her woollen slacks and the waterproof poplin outfit which, Simon Savage assured her, she would find very useful even if she didn’t ski. He ordered her to buy several woollen sweaters, too and a dark green woollen skirt with a quilted jacket to go with it. ‘And you’d better have a blouse as well,’ he suggested carelessly. ‘Probably we shall go to Tromso and you’ll need them for the hotel.’

  Which remark sent his stepsister off into another small orgy of buying.

  On the whole, the afternoon went off smoothly, and since by the time they got back to the flat Miss Savage was tired out, Louisa saw her into bed, took her tea and then tucked her up for a nap. All this took a little time, of course, but Simon was still there, in the sitting room, doing nothing. She felt bound to offer him tea too, which he accepted with the air of one who had hoped for something better but would make do with what he could get. And when she thanked him stiffly for the things she had bought, he told her peremptorily to say no more about it in such a bored voice that she drank her tea in silence and was quite relieved when he went.

  Possibly building bridges was conducive to ill humour and an inability to tolerate the shortcomings of those one met outside of this tricky profession. ‘I wonder how they can make an arch without the middle falling into the water,’ Louisa asked the empty room. ‘One day when he’s in a good mood, I’ll ask him. Only he never is in a good mood.’

  CHAPTER FIVE


  MISS SAVAGE was at her most difficult for the rest of that day, alternately begging for a drink and abusing Louisa when she didn’t get one, and in between that poking sly fun at her. ‘You never guessed, did you?’ she crowed. ‘You thought I was being so considerate, sending you out each morning—and there we were sitting cosily here—they brought the drinks with them, of course. You gave me a fright when you thought you’d seen Connie—I thought it was all up then, only you never suspected, did you? I’m clever, you know. I told the doctor in London that you knew all about me so there was no need to say anything to you, and I told the one here just the same.’ She went off into a peal of laughter. ‘I wish I’d seen your face when you and Simon found me! I had a drop too much—I didn’t mean to fall asleep. But now you know…what are you going to do about it?’ She added pathetically with a complete change of manner: ‘You won’t leave me, will you, Louisa?’

  ‘No,’ said Louisa, ‘I won’t, and I don’t know what to do about it anyway—only do as the doctor tells me. And now if you’d put on that dress that’s too long, I’ll pin it up and get it sewn.’ She went on carelessly: ‘Do you think it might be a good idea to go to that nice bookshop we found and get half a dozen paperbacks—just to keep us going until we’ve discovered our way around Tromso?’

  ‘Tromso’s miles away from Simon’s work,’ said Miss Savage sulkily.

  ‘Not so far, and there’s this launch… I don’t see why we shouldn’t go there from time to time, do you?’

  ‘You don’t know Simon—he hates anyone to be happy.’

  And presently, stitching up the hem of the dress, Louisa began to wonder why Simon Savage should take such a bleak view of life, or was it perhaps that his stepsister made it appear so? But upon reflection, she couldn’t recall his smiling, only just that once to Eva. She bit off the thread with small white teeth, but on the whole, she decided, he was better than Frank.

  He came the next morning with the tickets for their journey and to tell Louisa that he had arranged for them to be taken by taxi down to the ship. ‘She sails at seven o’clock and there’ll be dinner on board,’ he told her, ‘no dressing up or anything like that. If Claudia is feeling off colour I’m afraid you’ll have to look after her yourself—there are stewardesses to clean the cabins and so on, but I doubt if their English is very good. How is she?’

  ‘Getting dressed.’

  He nodded. ‘May I stay for coffee?’

  Louisa blinked her long lashes. ‘Why, of course—it’s your flat, isn’t it? I’ll ask Eva to hurry up a little.’

  He didn’t stay long, his visit had been one of duty; he made casual conversation with them both and went with an air of relief. He did pause as he went to remind Louisa that she was going out with Lars Helgesen on the following evening, and would she be good enough to tell Eva that he would be there for dinner with his stepsister.

  Lars Helgesen and Simon Savage arrived together, and Louisa, in one of the new dresses, a fine wool jersey in several shades of blue, got up from her chair to greet them. Miss Savage, sulking again because she had to spend a few hours with her stepbrother, was lying on the sofa, wearing a soft woollen rose-coloured housecoat and looking really very pretty despite the deep shadows under her eyes and the downward curve of her mouth.

  ‘Lars Helgesen,’ said Mr Savage, ‘my sister Claudia.’

  Mr Helgesen advanced to the sofa and shook hands, looking bemused, and Louisa, watching him, had to admit that Miss Savage did look glamorous even if she was addicted to the bottle, and certainly was worth a second look. If only she could cure her… She frowned in thought and changed it to a smile as Mr Helgesen suggested that they should go.

  Mr Savage hadn’t said a word to her, nor did he as they went out of the room. She had been going to tell him that Eva had promised to stay on for a little longer that evening and serve supper, but if he couldn’t be civil enough to wish her good evening, he could find out for himself.

  ‘Call me Lars,’ said Mr Helgesen. ‘I thought we’d walk, it’s not far.’ He took her arm and took her down a side street which led to the market, where they crossed Torget into Bryggen and stopped outside one of the old houses there. ‘Here we are,’ he declared. ‘It is a well known restaurant in the town, and you shall eat some of their delicious fish.’

  It was warm inside, old-fashioned, and the tables were well filled. Louisa took off her coat and sat down at the table they were led to. She felt happy; Lars was a pleasant companion, even on their brief walk she had discovered that. She looked forward to a delightful evening in his company.

  They had sampled the hors d’oeuvres and were well into the fish when Lars abandoned his light chat and asked in a carefully casual voice: ‘Miss Savage—Claudia—is she very delicate?’ And before Louisa could answer: ‘She is so very pretty and so charming, I—I was much struck…’

  ‘She’s recovering from a complaint which left her rather low,’ said Louisa carefully. ‘She has her ups and downs though.’

  Lars offered her the sauce. ‘Yes? She is still so young.’

  Just as carefully Louisa agreed.

  ‘Of course Simon has told me something about her—that was necessary so that I might check her account from time to time—it is understandable that so very pretty a lady should wish to spend money.’ Louisa murmured something or other and he went on: ‘Simon tells me that you are to go to the village where he works. He thinks it will be better for her. I shall miss you—both of you.’

  Louisa smiled at his earnest face. ‘It does sound a long way off, but I’m sure we shall be all right once we’re there,’ she assured him. ‘Have you been there?’

  They talked about a great many things after that, finishing their dinner and walking back to the concert hall, and then sat in companionable silence listening to the pianist playing Grieg’s music, and when it was over, walking the short distance back to the flat.

  ‘You’ll come in for coffee?’ asked Louisa, and felt a little thrill of pleasure at his eager ‘Yes, please!’ It was such a pity that they would have no chance to see each other again, at least until Simon Savage decided to send them back to Bergen, and he might not do that, they might go straight back to England. It depended on his stepsister, didn’t it?

  They went up the stairs into the quiet flat and found Simon Savage standing by the window looking out into the dark night. His long lean back had the look of a man impatient to be gone. Miss Savage was still lying on the sofa, which surprised Louisa; she had thought that her patient would have had more than enough of her stepbrother’s company by now. She turned her head as they went into the room and smiled, her gaze resting for a bare moment upon Louisa before lingering upon Mr Helgesen’s face. He crossed the room to her at once. ‘I was afraid you would be in bed,’ he told her, and took her hand, smiling down at her. Louisa, watching them, allowed the faint, vague idea that Lars had been getting a little interested in herself to slide into oblivion. Well, it had been silly of her to imagine any such thing in the first place. She looked away and found Simon Savage’s dark eyes bent upon her, and it was only too obvious from the look on his face that he had read her thoughts. She flushed angrily. ‘I’ll get the coffee,’ she muttered, and escaped to the kitchen.

  He followed her. ‘A pleasant evening, Nurse?’ he enquired blandly.

  ‘Yes, thank you.’ She went on putting cups and saucers on a tray, not looking at him.

  ‘A nice chap, Helgesen.’ He watched her through half closed lids. ‘Do you have a boyfriend at home, Louisa?’

  If she had been expecting that question she would have been ready with a bright answer; as it was all she could think of to say was ‘No.’

  ‘I don’t say I’m surprised.’ He didn’t qualify this remark and she didn’t answer it, recognising it as bait to make her lose her temper.

  ‘Will you stay for coffee?’ she asked sweetly.

  He took the tray from her. ‘But of course.’

  Before the two men went it had been arranged that Lars
should take them in his car to the ship—moreover, Louisa heard him arranging to take Miss Savage out to lunch on the following day. She was sure that Mr Savage had heard it as well, but he didn’t say anything, not until he was actually on the point of leaving. He said softly: ‘You can safely leave it to me, Nurse.’

  It surprised her very much when she returned to the sitting room to hear Miss Savage asking her quite humbly if she would mind her going to lunch with Lars Helgesen. ‘And I know what you’re thinking, but I promise you I’ll not drink anything, only tonic water.’ She went on dreamily: ‘He’s sweet, isn’t he?’

  Louisa, clearing away the coffee cups, wondered if this was the miracle she had hoped for. If it was, she was going to help it along with all her might. ‘He’s very nice,’ she agreed, ‘and now what about bed? You want to look your best in the morning.’

  There were only three days before they left, and it seemed to Louisa that Lars Helgesen was either at the flat or taking Claudia Savage out to one meal or another. Louisa had awaited her return from their first date in some trepidation, but she need not have worried. Her patient seemed a changed young woman. True, she still needed a drink twice a day, but her temper was no longer something to be reckoned with and she had stopped throwing things about. Moreover, she had asked Louisa to call her Claudia, which was a great step forward and made for friendlier relations all round.

  Of Simon Savage there had been neither sight nor sound. He had returned to his work, she knew, but he had made no attempt to telephone or write, nor had he come to say goodbye. She wondered several times what he had said to Lars about his stepsister; whatever it was had made no difference to his feelings towards that lady. Louisa packed, did last-minute shopping and laid in a small stock of books against Claudia’s boredom during their journey. She foresaw difficult days ahead, for Claudia wasn’t going to take lightly to not seeing Lars. It seemed a pity that they couldn’t have stayed in Bergen now that there was an incentive for her to give up drinking, and it was even more of a pity that there was no way of getting hold of Mr Savage to tell him so. She could of course telephone him, but she had the feeling that if she did he would listen to her in silence and refuse to change his plans. Perhaps he was bent on punishing his stepsister, perhaps he really did believe that a stay in the north would be the means of curing her. Louisa didn’t feel inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt.