Last April Fair

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Last April Fair Page 4

by Betty Neels


  They parted in friendly fashion and Phyllida started off down the long corridor taking her to the other end of the ship, to be overtaken almost at once by the nurse.

  ‘I thought I’d let you know that you’d better not expect too much help from me,’ she began. ‘I have quite a busy time, you know, and I have to be on call round the clock.’

  Phyllida stopped to look at her. ‘That’s OK, I’m sure you must be pretty busy. I don’t expect I’ll need any help, thanks all the same.’

  The other girl gave the suggestion of a sniff. ‘If you need any advice…’ she began.

  Phyllida’s large blue eyes flashed. ‘I expect I’ll be able to cope,’ she said gently. ‘I’ve been Medical Ward Sister at St Michael’s for four years.’She smiled widely, added ‘goodbye’ and went on her way, her blonde hair flying round cheeks which were a little pinker than usual, by reason of her vexation.

  The doctor was very good with Gaby, matter-of-fact and friendly, taking care not to alarm her by questions which might give her reason to think. And afterwards, on the pretext of fetching some pills in case Gaby felt seasick, Phyllida went back to the surgery.

  He said heavily: ‘Well, Miss Cresswell, if she’d been my daughter I’d never for one moment entertained the idea of her coming on a trip like this, however much she’d set her heart on it. And she’s not wildly enthusiastic about it, is she? Is she spoilt? She didn’t strike me as being so.’

  Phyllida shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. She’s very quiet and agrees with everything her parents suggest.’ She didn’t add the unspoken thought that Gaby appeared to be in considerable awe of her parents and anxious, almost painfully so, to please them.

  ‘Well, I’ll have a word with them and take a look at her each day. You’ll come to me at once if you think it necessary, won’t you?’

  Phyllida felt better after that, and after due thought went along to the de Wolffs’ cabin. It surprised her to discover that they were put out over her visit to the doctor. ‘There was really no need,’ declared Mrs de Wolff sharply. ‘Gaby is a little tired, but otherwise she’s recovering very well. We don’t want ideas put into her head.’

  ‘I don’t think anyone will do that, Mrs de Wolff— after all, she’s been under a doctor for so long now, she can’t find it strange if the ship’s doctor pays her a visit.’ She turned to Mr de Wolff. ‘I thought you were going to tell him about Gaby—he knew nothing at all about her.’

  ‘I considered it unnecessary.’ Mr de Wolff spoke pompously and looked annoyed. ‘After all, if Sir Keith gave his consent to this cruise, I hardly suppose that we lesser mortals need to interfere.’

  Phyllida went pink. ‘I have no intention of interfering, Mr de Wolff, but Gaby has a severe illness and you asked me to look after her and I intend to do so. How long ago is it since Sir Keith Maltby actually saw her?’

  Her employer went a rich plum colour. ‘That’s beside the point, Miss Cresswell. All we ask is that you carry out your duties.’

  Phyllida drew a calming breath. She was wasting time; he had no intention of telling her. ‘Where would you like us to meet you before dinner?’

  She heard his sigh of relief. ‘Oh, in the Neptune Bar—about eight o’clock.’

  Gaby seemed better when Phyllida got back to their cabin, and became quite animated over the choice of the dress she should wear. She decided on a plain, long-sleeved blue silk sheath, for no one would dress on the first night at sea, and Phyllida put on one of last year’s dresses, a very plain one; she considered it made her look just as a nurse out of uniform should look.

  The evening went off very well after all. The doctor had introduced himself to the deWolffs in the bar, offered his services should they be required and went away before the two girls arrived, and if Gaby didn’t eat a good dinner, at least she seemed to be enjoying herself. All the same, she went quite willingly to bed when Phyllida suggested it, and Phyllida, quite tired out, went too.

  The days formed a pleasant pattern; they breakfasted in their cabin and then spent a leisurely morning sitting on deck, and if Phyllida regretted not being able to join in the deck games and wander off to chat to some of the other passengers, she didn’t admit it, even to herself. It worried her that they saw so little of Gaby’s parents, who seemed to think that meeting their daughter at lunch and dinner was sufficient, nor did they express anxiety over her condition or ask Phyllida how she was progressing. Luckily the weather was calm and getting warmer, so that by Sunday morning they were able to wear cotton dresses and lie in the sun for a time. It was while they were doing this that the doctor joined them for their mid-morning beef tea and Phyllida, in a casual voice masking her worry, mentioned Gaby’s headache. ‘Quite a troublesome one,’ she added lightly, ‘it just doesn’t go away.’

  ‘Ah, yes—one of those sick headaches, I expect,’ observed the doctor, taking his cue smartly.

  Gaby nodded listlessly. ‘Yes, I was sick in the night—Phylly had to get up—that’s why I feel so dozy now.’

  The doctor didn’t stay long, and presently, while Gaby slept, Phyllida went in search of him. ‘Do you think it’s infiltration of the meninges?’ she asked anxiously. ‘My father told me about that. Should I tell her parents? She seemed so much better—we haven’t done much, but she was beginning to eat a little and take an interest in things.’

  ‘Where are her parents?’

  ‘They play bridge a good deal of the time and they’ve made a good many friends.’

  ‘They don’t see much of Gaby? Not enough to notice if she’s better or worse?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘I’ll have a word with them if you like, and I’ll have another look at her later on. I don’t like the headache and sickness, it may possibly be what you suggest.’

  By the evening Gaby was worse, the headache was persistent now and so was the sickness, and she had become irritable, so that nothing Phyllida could say or do was right. And when the doctor came to see her just before dinner he looked grave. ‘I’m going to advise you to disembark at Madeira,’ he said. ‘There’s a good hospital there, and while I don’t think she needs to go there at the moment, if you were to stay in an hotel she could be moved quickly. Better still, her parents could fly her back home straight away. I don’t think she should stay on board, we haven’t the facilities.’

  Phyllida nodded. ‘You’ll see Mr and Mrs de Wolff? Shall I say nothing to Gaby until it’s all arranged?’She paused. ‘I shall have to pack.’

  ‘Yes, of course, I’ll go and see them now.’

  She went back to the cabin and sat down with a book. Gaby wasn’t sleeping, but she didn’t want to talk either. It was half an hour before Mrs de Wolff opened the door and came in.

  ‘Well, here’s a fine state of affairs!’ she exclaimed angrily. ‘All our plans changed just because Gaby feels a little under the weather! Still, the doctor knows best, I suppose. My husband’s radioed for rooms for you both at Reid’s Hotel and we’ll see you safely there tomorrow before we get back to the ship.’

  Phyllida stared at her. ‘But aren’t we all going ashore?’

  ‘Good heavens, no. We’ve planned it all nicely—we shall go on to the Canaries and pick you up on our way back next Saturday. Gaby will be better by then. We’ve talked to the doctor, so you have no need to worry, Miss Cresswell. We feel confident that you can look after Gaby very well until we return—it’s only five days and we simply can’t miss any of this cruise and there’s no need for us to do so. Besides, we’ve been looking forward to it for some time.’

  She went and peered down at Gaby. ‘You do look a little pale, darling. You’ll feel better on dry land, I expect, and you girls can have a few days’ fun on your own.’She patted Gaby’s head and Phyllida saw the girl wince. ‘We’ll leave you plenty of spending money.’

  When she had gone Gaby said wearily: ‘Mummy always thinks that if she gives me enough money everything will be all right.’

  ‘I expect you’ll enjoy it just as much as
being on board ship,’ said Phyllida soothingly. ‘Now, I’m going to pack our things, and suppose we have dinner here this evening? You choose what you’d like to eat and get a long night’s sleep. Now I’m going to take these books back to the library.’

  She went to see the doctor too, and he wasn’t in the best of tempers. ‘I’ve made it plain to Gaby’s parents that she’s extremely ill and possibly heading for a relapse, and I suggested that you should all fly back from Madeira tomorrow, but they won’t hear of it—told me that if the specialist considered her fit enough to take a holiday that was good enough for them, that we’re probably over-anxious. They agreed readily enough to Gaby going ashore with you—said they’d pick you up at the end of the week. Are you at all worried?’

  ‘I’m in a flat spin,’ confided Phyllida. ‘Anything could happen, couldn’t it? And here we are, thousands of miles away from home and her parents refusing to face up to her being ill. Do you think she’ll be all right? I’ll take the greatest care of her.’

  ‘If she keeps quiet and with you to look after her she might get over this bad patch, but she really needs to be flown home and taken to hospital, but her parents utterly refuse. They say that this has happened before and she’s always got over it.’He sighed. ‘At least Mr de Wolff has all the particulars of her case and I’ve written a covering letter; he’s promised to deliver it himself at the hospital and arrange for a doctor to call and see Gaby—probably tomorrow in the evening or the following morning. We shall be back here on Saturday and if Gaby is no better, I’ll do my best to persuade her parents to fly her back.’

  Phyllida agreed. The doctor had done all he could, she would have the hospital close at hand and a doctor, so perhaps she need not worry too much. Gaby’s father had said that these little relapses, as he called them, had occurred before and Gaby had always pulled through with a little extra care. But there were a number of drugs she should be having—perhaps they would have them at the hospital in Funchal. Phyllida didn’t quite trust Mr de Wolff’s casual view of his daughter’s condition, but she had to take his word for it. She packed for them both, saw Gaby into bed for a good night’s sleep and went to bed herself.

  There was no hitch in the next day’s plans. Gaby was cheerful, and after a good night’s sleep seemed better. They went ashore just before lunch, went straight to the hotel and lunched there with Gaby’s parents before they rejoined the ship. Their goodbyes were brief; they didn’t look back as they left the hotel.

  Phyllida and Gaby had adjoining rooms overlooking the gardens going down to the sea, with the swimming pools and tennis courts at their edge. They were spacious and airy and Phyllida made her patient comfortable in a long chair on the balcony before unpacking once more and then going to see about meals. When she got back Gaby was sitting up, looking quite animated, watching the guests in the pools. ‘I’m going to like it here,’ she declared, and looked happy for the first time, ‘just with you. We don’t need to do anything, do we? I mean, go on excursions or shopping? Daddy gave me some money to hire a car, he said we could tour the island, but I’m not keen, are you?’

  ‘Not a bit,’ lied Phyllida. ‘I’m all for being lazy. And by the way, Doctor Watts from the ship wrote a note to one of the doctors at the hospital here asking him to pop round and see you this evening or tomorrow, just in case there’s anything you need.’

  Gaby hunched a shoulder. ‘I wish people didn’t fuss so. I’m quite all right if only I didn’t have this headache.’

  ‘Well, that’s why he’s coming, I expect; if it’s no better he’ll be able to prescribe some different tablets. Would you like to stay up here for tea? Or we can have it on the terrace—it looked super and there’s a lovely view.’

  Gaby settled for the terrace and presently they went downstairs and found seats in a shady corner, and Gaby, Phyllida was pleased to see, enjoyed her tea, talking quite animatedly about her clothes and the boutique they had stopped to look at in the hotel’s foyer.

  The rest of the day passed pleasantly. They dined at a small table by themselves, but several people around them stopped to speak and Gaby, once more in a happy mood, preened herself in their admiring glances. Phyllida went to bed happier than she had been since the cruise started. Gaby might not be better physically, but she was a whole lot happier. The thought that it was because her parents weren’t there crossed her mind, but she dismissed that as unlikely. They gave Gaby everything; she had more clothes than she ever could wear, lovely jewellery, and every luxury that money could buy. She was almost asleep when the notion that Gaby had everything but real love and interest from her parents came into her head. She could have wept at the sadness of it.

  Gaby felt so well the next morning that she put on one of her prettiest sun dresses and lounged by one of the swimming pools while Phyllida swam around, but as the day became warmer they moved back to the terrace, ate their lunch there and only went back to their rooms so that Gaby might rest. But they went outside again for tea and stayed there until dinner time, when Gaby changed her dress for a rather too elaborate silk one, but she looked so happy that Phyllida told her that she looked a dream and would turn all heads. Which she did. As they said goodnight later, Gaby said sleepily: ‘It’s been a lovely day—I’d like to stay here, just with you, Phylly, for ever and ever.’

  Phyllida dropped a kiss on the pale cheek and made some laughing reply before she went to her own room.

  Gaby was awake and sitting up in bed when Phyllida went in the next morning and she left her to have her breakfast and went downstairs to have her own, wondering if it would be a good idea to suggest that they might take a taxi to the Country Club and sit there for an hour or two before lunch. She didn’t hurry over her meal. Gaby didn’t like to be disturbed until she had finished her breakfast; it was almost ten o’clock as she got up from the table. She went back upstairs, pausing to speak to some English guests on their way out. When she knocked on Gaby’s door there was no answer; probably she was reading and hadn’t heard. Phyllida opened the door.

  Gaby wasn’t reading. She was lying back in bed, unconscious.

  Phyllida drew a startled breath, pulled herself together in seconds and went quickly to the bed. The first thing she did was to press the bell, the second to feel for Gaby’s pulse, so faint and threadlike that she had difficulty in finding it. Her breathing was so light and shallow that she had to bend down in order to check it. No one had answered the bell, so she rang again, took the tray off the bed, pulled the pillow into a better position and when there was still no answer to her summons, ran to the door. Something must be done, and fast, if it were to be of any use.

  CHAPTER THREE

  PHYLLIDA WASN’T a girl to panic, but now she had to get a tight hold on herself, making her mind work sensibly when all she wanted to do was scream for help and leave everything to someone else. This wasn’t hospital, it wasn’t even England; she knew no one, she wasn’t even sure where the hospital was. Gaby was desperately ill—worse than that, Gaby was going to die. Somehow or other she would have to get a message to her parents, find a doctor, get her to hospital. Phyllida took another look at Gaby, lying so still in her bed, and went downstairs as fast as she could, running across the foyer to the reception desk.

  There was no one there. She banged the bell and was angry with herself because her hand shook, and when no one came she couldn’t stop herself crying in a shaky voice: ‘Oh, please won’t someone come?’

  ‘Will I do?’ asked a voice behind her.

  It belonged to a very tall, powerfuly built man with what she immediately decided was a face she could trust, though at that moment she would have trusted a snake.

  ‘Yes,’ she didn’t hesitate. ‘I’m looking after a girl— she’s desperately ill and her parents are cruising round the Canaries—I don’t know exactly where they are. I need a doctor, now, this instant, and she should be in hospital. She’s going to die if something isn’t done quickly!’

  He put a large firm hand on her arm.
‘I’m a doctor, shall I take a look? Do you speak Portuguese?’

  ‘No, but they speak English here, only there isn’t anyone.’

  ‘Coffee time. Shall I have a look at this girl? Your patient, is she?’

  Phyllida nodded. ‘Please. I’ll give you an idea…’ She started up the stairs fast, talking as she went.

  She hadn’t doubted that he was a doctor. He examined Gaby with careful speed while Phyllida stood beside him, watching.

  There was a great deal of him and he was handsome too, with a patrician nose, a firm mouth and blue eyes beneath lazy lids. His hair was so fair that she wasn’t sure if it was grey or not. He straightened up presently and looked at her. ‘You’re right, I’m afraid—I’ll get the hospital, I happen to know someone there. There’s nothing more to be done. You know that, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes. What shall I do about her parents?’

  ‘When did they go? This girl’s been dangerously ill for some time—surely they were told?’

  ‘Yes, oh, yes. But they said that Gaby wanted to go on this cruise so badly and that’s why I’m here, so that I could look after her. She got worse on our way here and the ship’s doctor advised us to come ashore with her—he wanted us to fly home, but her parents wouldn’t consent. They didn’t want her to go to the hospital either…they wouldn’t admit that she was ill, I did tell them, but they wouldn’t listen. They came ashore with us and then went back on board—and that was the day before yesterday. They told me not to worry about an address if I should need them, they said it wasn’t necessary, but I could radio the ship, couldn’t I?’

  His blue eyes hadn’t left her face. ‘Don’t they love the girl?’

  ‘I—I…it’s hard to say; if they do it’s not the kind of love most people have for their children—they gave her everything, though. They wanted to get away; her mother hates illness.’

  They were in the foyer now and he had a hand on the telephone by the still deserted desk. He lifted the receiver, dialled a number as she spoke and spoke in his turn.

 

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