by Betty Neels
‘Well, yes, Mother, but he’s been looking forward to this weekend so much and there’s no reason why he should stay here just because I have to.’ She added firmly but untruthfully, ‘I wouldn’t want him to—and he loves being with you all.’
‘We shall enjoy having him, dear. Will you be able to manage a day off soon and come home? No need to tell us, just come if you can.’
‘After take-in I’ll be due to have two days. I’ll see what I can do—perhaps next weekend, Mother.’
She rang off, mentally rearranging the off duty; if Jenny had her days off towards the end of take-in, then there was no reason why she herself shouldn’t have the weekend. She explained this carefully to Meredith as she got their suppers and was rewarded by a rumbling in his throat which she took to mean that he was pleased.
At her home her mother put down the receiver and turned to Mr Rodner, sitting behind his newspaper. ‘George,’ she said, loudly enough to make him put the paper down, ‘Oscar’s coming on his own; Meg can’t come—extra take-in or something. Wouldn’t you have thought that he’d have wanted to stay there with her? She does get off duty even when they’re busy and they could have gone out together.’ She frowned. ‘George, are you listening? Do you think…have you noticed Melanie and Oscar together? I’m not very happy about that. I wish Megan and Oscar could get married while they’re still…’
She paused and her husband said quietly, ‘In love, my dear? That would be a mistake, wouldn’t it? Yes, I’ve noticed Melanie and Oscar—these things happen and there’s nothing we can do to help.’ He picked up his paper again. ‘Patience, my dear, and let things take their own course.’
Mrs Rodner glared at him. ‘Men,’ she observed. ‘What about our Meg?’
‘Meg is twenty-eight…’
‘I know that, and she’ll be on the shelf before we know where we are and she is so lovely and such a dear girl.’
‘One day a man to match her will turn up, my dear. As I have said, patience.’
* * *
Megan had little time to regret her weekend; the ward was still full from the previous week’s take-in, and now she was putting up beds down the middle and sending those who were well enough to sleep in other wards. Everyone seemed bent on having an accident that weekend, she observed to Jenny. Men’s Surgical was just as busy, and, naturally enough, so was Theatre. Hurrying back from her dinner on Sunday, she went full tilt into the professor, walking with measured stride in the opposite direction. He put out an arm to right her, remarking as he did so, ‘You should look where you’re going, Sister,’ a statement which in no way soothed her.
‘Sorry, sir, we’re rather busy.’
‘Your weekend, is it not?’
‘I had to change it.’ She sidled round his vast person, ready to nip away.
‘A pity. Young Fielding was to have had a weekend too, was he not?’
She wondered fleetingly at his interest. ‘Yes.’
‘Going to spend it at your home?’
‘Yes.’ Something in his quiet voice made her add, ‘Well, he’s there, actually, I mean he doesn’t get many weekends and my family like him…’
‘Ah, yes, indeed. Don’t let me keep you, Sister Rodner.’
Which, seeing that she hadn’t been able to get past him, seemed unnecessary.
The long day ended at last and she went back to Meredith’s company and a sketchy supper. She was getting ready for bed when Oscar phoned.
He was full of his delightful weekend.
‘What did you do?’ asked Megan.
‘Oh, this and that. We walked a bit and drove over to Wing to see some garden or other, I’ve forgotten to whom it belonged, then we had lunch in a local pub and got back in time for tea. Been busy?’
‘So-so. I’m glad you had a good time.’ She wanted to ask who had gone with him—the whole family or Melanie alone? Not that she minded, she told herself stoutly, only it would have been nice if he had told her. He wasn’t going to. He enthused over her mother’s cooking, suggested that they might meet for a drink when they were free and then wished her goodnight. He hadn’t mentioned Melanie once. She lay in bed and worried about that. They had seemed to get on so well together—surely they hadn’t taken a dislike to each other? Or was Melanie ill? She found the thought so disquieting that she picked up the receiver and phoned her mother.
Her mother’s voice sounded warmly in her ear. ‘Darling, I phoned you twice but you weren’t there. You’ve been busy? Has Oscar got back yet?’
‘He rang me just now. He had a lovely time and he loved your cooking. Mother, is Melanie ill?’
‘Good heavens, no, whatever made you think that she was?’
‘Well, Oscar didn’t mention her at all—they haven’t disagreed or anything, have they? I was so glad that she liked him but you know how she retires into her shell if she thinks someone doesn’t like her.’
‘Darling, she’s fine, and I’m sure she enjoyed the weekend as much as we all did. I dare say that Oscar had so much to say that he just didn’t get around to mentioning her.’
‘Oh, that’s all right, then. Silly of me to fuss. I think I can manage a day after Wednesday and I’ll drive home. I’ve a day or two owing to me then.’
‘That will be lovely, Meg. Goodnight, dear.’
‘Goodnight, Mother.’ She hung up and got back into bed and since it had turned rather chilly the cat Meredith sidled up until he was curled into the circle of her arm. He felt very comforting.
The workload lessened after Sunday and since several patients were to be discharged Megan was able to have the beds down the centre of the ward taken away and she even had one or two empty ones. She sent Jenny on days off on Tuesday as well as some of the student nurses; she had part-time staff nurses, married ladies who were willing to do extra hours while Jenny was away, and she cheerfully cut her own free time, knowing that she would be able to take two days off herself when Jenny was back.
She went off duty on Friday evening, leaving a quiet ward behind her with only routine admissions and nothing which Jenny couldn’t handle. Oscar had rung her on the ward and suggested that they might meet for half an hour after duty. ‘I can’t really leave the hospital, but I’ll come over to the Pot and Feather and we can have a drink.’
He wouldn’t be free until after six o’clock, so she went to the flat, showered and changed into a tweed skirt and sweater, fed Meredith and went back to the hospital to wait for Oscar. She disliked going into pubs on her own and there was still time before he would be free.
While she was waiting she roamed round the hall. It was rather a dreary place with a high vaulted ceiling, an endless floor of marble and some large oil-paintings of eminent men hung at intervals on its panelled walls. The portraits were of dead and gone medical men, all looking stern and severe, and clever. She was peering at a former governor of the hospital standing by a small table, his hand on a weighty book, frowning out of his frame at the less exalted persons about him.
‘He might have been a good husband and then father,’ observed Megan, talking to herself because the vast place discomfited her.
‘You are doubtful of that, Sister Rodner?’
The professor had come upon her softly and she jumped and turned at the same time. ‘Good evening, sir. Yes, I am, I think he had a nasty temper.’
‘Is this how you spend your off-duty hours?’ he asked.
‘Of course not, I’m waiting for Oscar. He’s got half an hour to spare.’
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br /> ‘You will go to your home tomorrow?’
‘Yes. How did you know?’ She gave him a surprised look and found him smiling.
‘Mr Bright mentioned it. I am going to Oxford tomorrow. Is half-past eight too early for you? I will come to your flat?’
‘Too early? Come to my flat?’ echoed Megan, her pretty mouth agape.
‘Have I not made myself clear?’ The professor sounded testy. ‘I will drop you off on my way.’
‘That’s awfully kind of you, but I was going to drive myself…’
He ignored this. ‘I asked you if half-past eight was too early for you.’ He wasn’t going to take no for an answer, she could see, and besides, the thought of driving in comfort in a Rolls-Royce was tempting. She said cautiously, ‘I shall have the cat Meredith with me.’
‘So I should imagine,’ and then impatiently, ‘Well?’
‘Thank you, I should like a lift if it’s not going out of your way. I’ll be ready.’
‘Good. Good evening to you, Sister Rodner.’
He had gone as quietly as he had come and a few minutes later Oscar joined her.
She began at once after the briefest of greetings. ‘Oscar—’
‘You want to know about the weekend?’ he interrupted her. ‘Let’s go over to the pub, we can’t talk here.’ He marched her over to the Pot and Feather, and sat her down in the crowded bar. ‘What’ll it be?’ he asked.
‘A large tonic with lots of ice and lemon.’
‘A dash of gin?’
She shook her head, then watched him as he made his way to the bar. He looked different. Usually he was rather quiet after a day’s work but now he looked—she wasn’t quite sure how he looked. Excited? Happy? Had he missed her so much? She smiled at the thought and when he came back said, ‘Well, now tell me all about the weekend.’
He embarked on a detailed account and she should have been satisfied with that, but somehow there was something not quite right. Despite his obvious pleasure in recalling it, he was wary, almost as though he was afraid of saying something he didn’t want her to know. Besides, he gave her little chance to ask questions and when they had had their drinks he said he would have to go back to Regent’s. ‘I said half an hour and I must set a good example to the housemen.’
She got up with him. ‘We must have another weekend as soon as you can manage it,’ she suggested.
‘Not much hope of that, darling, and if I get the odd day off I really must go home.’
‘Yes, of course. We’ll wait for a while. I’m going home tomorrow.’ They had reached the hospital and she began, ‘I was going to drive down—’
‘Why not?’ he asked. ‘I must fly.’ There was no one around, so he gave her a light kiss on her cheek. ‘Give my love to everyone.’
He was gone. I’ll tell him when I get back, decided Megan.
She went back to the flat, got supper for herself and Meredith, packed an overnight bag, watched suspiciously by him, and set his basket ready. ‘You’re going in a Rolls-Royce,’ she told him, ‘and mind you behave yourself.’
The cat yawned.
It was April now and the mornings were light. She was up early to get breakfast, get into a new outfit she hadn’t yet worn—a little grey jacket with a long pleated skirt in shades of grey and blue with a hint of pale green and a white cotton shirt. She had spent more than she had intended on it but she knew that it suited her; besides, as she told Meredith, ‘It is spring and if I don’t wear it now there’s not much point in having it.’
If she didn’t wear it now, she added silently, the professor wouldn’t see her in it, although why that should matter she didn’t know.
He arrived at exactly half-past eight and from the casual glance he gave her as he wished her good morning she might just as well have run up a little something from dishcloths. He wasted no time but stowed Meredith on the back seat, put her bag in the boot, got in beside her and drove off. Almost as though he regretted offering her a lift. The thought made her feel shy and awkward and, since he was concentrating on getting out of the city as quickly as possible and she could think of nothing to say, the first ten minutes or so went by in silence. Finally she ventured, ‘It’s a nice morning.’ Only when she said that she remembered that he had no use for the word nice.
She was surprised when he said in a friendly voice, ‘A delightful morning. How long are you to be at home? And may I call you Megan?’
‘I’ve got the weekend off, and please call me Megan if you would like to.’
‘Thank you. I am returning to Regent’s on Sunday evening. I will call for you very shortly after six o’clock.’
‘Well, that’s kind of you, but you do have to go out of your way…’
‘A few miles. Your family expect you this morning. I think it likely that we shall arrive a bit earlier than you would have done if you had driven yourself.’
‘Well, a Rolls does go faster than my little car,’ Megan said matter-of-factly. ‘It’s very comfortable, isn’t it? And very large.’ She glanced sideways at him and added seriously, ‘Of course, you do need a big car, don’t you?’
He gave a rumble of laughter. ‘Indeed I do.’
It was a chance to find out more about him. ‘Do you take it to Holland when you go?’
She wasn’t looking at him and didn’t see his faint smile. ‘Oh, yes, I need it there.’
‘For your family?’ she asked, greatly daring, afraid of being snubbed.
‘For my family.’ Not quite a snub, but something in his quiet voice stopped her from asking any more questions. She didn’t need to, she reflected, and began to weave her thoughts into his life; married with a wife—who would be a handsome woman to match his height and always beautifully dressed—and there would be children, three or four of them. It was a pity that she didn’t know where his home was, because she could have imagined that as well.
‘You are silent,’ observed the professor, and she went a guilty pink, for all the world as though she had spoken her thoughts out loud.
She made haste to say something, no matter what, and in fact she said in a matter-of-fact-way, ‘I can’t think of anything interesting or amusing to talk about and I don’t think you would like me to—to waffle…’
‘I am relieved to find that you understand me so well.’ He had turned off the main road and taken a cross-country route without pausing to look at signposts. Megan thought that he must have studied the map closely, for he hadn’t asked her the way once. When they came to the narrow downhill lane to the village he turned the big car into it without a pause.
‘Have you been here before?’ she asked.
‘No. Why do you ask?’
‘Well, you know the way so well, and it’s a bit complicated once you leave the main road.’
‘I have a map.’ A remark which put an end to the conversation once again.
He went through the village, swept the Rolls gently up to the front door and got out to open her door. Before she could say anything the front door opened and her mother came towards them.
‘Darling, how nice and early.’
She looked at the professor and smiled with a questioning look, and Megan said, ‘Mother, this is Professor van Belfeld—he very kindly gave me a lift. He’s on his way to Oxford.’
Mrs Rodner shook hands. ‘How very nice of you. Come in and have some coffee.’
The professor smiled at her. ‘Thank you, Mrs Rodner, but I have to be in Oxford very shortly.’ He glan
ced at Megan. ‘Until six o’clock on Sunday,’ he reminded her, handed her her bag and Meredith and got back into the car.
They watched him go and Mrs Rodner put an arm through her daughter’s.
‘What a charming man. He’s very large, isn’t he? And not very talkative.’
‘Charming,’ echoed Megan. ‘Heavens, Mother, the nurses run a mile when they seen him coming…’
‘He’s never unkind to them?’
‘No. No, nothing like that—they’re in awe of him, I suppose; he never says much, you see, even when he’s angry about something. He can’t stand carelessness or things getting forgotten.’
They wandered into the house, Megan carrying the basket with Meredith breathing in a frustrated way through his little window. ‘You’re not in awe of him?’ asked Mrs Rodner.
‘Goodness me, no. In fact I’ve been rather rude to him once or twice! He’s always right…’
‘How very annoying, darling, but men always are. Let’s have coffee. Your father has had to go into Thame, but he’ll be back for lunch. I’m glad you can stay until Sunday evening. Do you suppose your professor would like tea or coffee when he calls for you?’
‘He might, but I don’t think so. We don’t mix socially at all.’ She was a truthful girl. ‘Well, hardly ever.’ And was having supper at her little flat mixing socially? She hardly thought so.
‘He’s a very large man,’ remarked her mother again, pouring coffee.
Megan was letting Meredith out of his basket. ‘Yes. Where’s Melanie?’
‘It’s her turn to help with the flowers at the church. She’ll be back presently.’
They sat facing each other at the kitchen table while Meredith prowled.
‘Oscar did enjoy his weekend,’ said Megan.