The Waiting Room

by Bess Norton

“All right!” Alan began to get up. “I’ll introduce you.”

  I pushed him down again. “I’m sure it’s time we went. I didn’t tell Simon I was going out with you, you know. That woman’s quite capable of not giving him the message.”

  “It’s only ten. It isn’t late.”

  “I know, but ... Let’s go now, Alan, while it’s such fun. I have enjoyed it.”

  “All right.” He got to his feet, and we went out and disentangled his little car from the others in the big parking lot.

  “That little man,” I said. “Was he truly an ophthalmic surgeon?”

  Alan threw back his head and laughed. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never seen him before in my life.”

  “Idiot! Suppose I’d called your bluff and made you introduce us?”

  “Ah, but I knew you wouldn’t. You always play it safe, don’t you?”

  I supposed he was right. I never was any good at taking chances. Other people seemed to be able to act on impulse and bring off miracles—but my impulses only landed me in stupid situations.

  All the same, I gave impulse a chance when we returned to Retby. We had put the car away and were crossing the yard by walking on the lawn, so as to be quiet, when Alan murmured, “Wow! Do you see what I see?”

  I followed his glance. There, glimmering white in the moonlight, was Dallas, leaning out of the master-bedroom window between the white filmy curtains, gazing into space. Her nightie was exiguous, to say the least, and her hair hung down like a child’s over her bare shoulders.

  “Maybe she expects to be serenaded,” I whispered. “She probably thinks it’s an old English custom.”

  She moved slightly, and I knew she had seen us, even though she went on gazing up at the moon, giving us her profile. Because she looked so ethereally lovely, and I knew perfectly well that I didn’t compare favorably, I just had to even things up, somehow. So I turned to face Alan and pulled his face down to mine.

  He took the cue very well—it must have been quite spectacular to watch. But it didn’t mean any more than it had meant the other times. Not to me. But I think he was carried away a little more than he intended. Certainly he was trembling when I pushed him away and said, “Thank you. It’s been a lovely evening.”

  I left him standing there and marched straight in. There was no sign of Simon anywhere. But someone had left a little pile of sandwiches covered with cellophane and a Thermos of hot Ovaltine ... and it couldn’t have been Dallas. It didn’t occur to me until I had eaten most of the sandwiches that maybe Dallas had left them out for Simon.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  On my way down to breakfast I met Mrs. Cox, fairly dithering with rage and carrying a tray. “Who’s that for?” I said.

  She halted. “That Dr. Teare. Say she ‘doesn’t eat breakfast,’ and she’ll just have some coffee in her room every morning.”

  “You give it to me,” I offered. “I’ll take it. You get on with your own work, heavens, does she think we have half a dozen parlormaids?”

  When I knocked at the door of her room she drawled, “Just leave it outside, will you?”

  I marched in anyway. “I’m afraid Mrs. Cox doesn’t have time to do this,” I told her. I slapped the tray down on the bedside table and stared at her back as she sat at the dressing table brushing her hair in the sunlight. She was a natural blonde, no doubt about that. “Don’t you think you could come down, in future?”

  She turned her head slowly and looked me up and down. “Well, really, if it’s such a chore, just a cup of coffee...”

  “Chores mount up,” I told her. “And we don’t keep any staff.”

  She raised her eyebrows coolly and turned back to the mirror. “I was under the impression that you were employed to attend to catering matters. Very well, if it’s too much trouble...”

  The room was littered with her belongings already. I couldn’t bear to look at it. I didn’t say any more, and I closed the door behind me sharply.

  Simon was already halfway through his breakfast. “Alan’s gone up to fetch his bags,” he said. “Is Dallas up?”

  “No. She doesn’t want breakfast. Just coffee in her room, she says. Simon, we can’t—”

  “Oh, yes, I meant to tell you.” He looked at me a little sheepishly. “I told her that would be all right.”

  “Oh, you did? I see.” I wasn’t pleased, and he knew it. Then I thought about it. “Well, at least it means we can have our breakfast in peace.”

  Simon frowned. “Lanna, don’t you like Dallas?”

  “Need I? No, frankly, I don’t. How long will she be here?” I helped myself to toast and marmalade and didn’t look at him. “Is she here permanently?”

  “But that’s up to you!” He looked surprised. “If you don’t get on—”

  Then I spotted the letter with the Allanby crest on the envelope and picked it up. “I hadn’t seen this. It’ll be from Matron.”

  I skipped through it quickly. She was mildly peeved, I could tell. But she wrote that Sister Bartlett would be able to stay in Ward Six, since Sister Conway was not leaving after all. And then went on to say that she was willing, in the circumstances, to waive my notice. So that was that.

  Now that it was settled, I felt a little flat. Simon asked, “Well?”

  “All right. I can stay.”

  He smiled quickly, and it was almost worth it. “I’m so glad, Lanna. Nice to have it fixed.” Then his smile faded and he stirred his cup thoughtfully. “But do try to get on with Dallas. She’s really an excellent doctor you know. We need her.”

  I didn’t say anything. He would just have to find out for himself, I decided. She couldn’t last. She wouldn’t last. Or, if she did, I would be changing my plans.

  All three of us, Simon and Dallas and I, went out to the driveway after surgery hours to see Alan off in his crammed-full car. Simon shook hands with him, Dallas waved, and I kissed his cheek briefly and said, “I’ll see you soon.”

  “Yes, you must.” He nodded to the others again, and zoomed out through the white gate.

  As we turned to go in Dallas addressed me. “Well, you’ll surely miss Alan, won’t you, Lanna?”

  “Of course.” I looked her in the eye. “We all will. He’s a good sort of person.”

  “I didn’t mean that,” she drawled. She smiled up at Simon. “How dull for poor Lanna. You should have taken on someone more amusing for her, instead of me!”

  Simon murmured something I imagined was intended to be gallant, to judge from the way his cheekbones reddened, and she tapped his arm for all the world as though she had been carrying a fan. If she had said, “La, sir!” or “Fie, Doctor!” I shouldn’t have flickered an eyelash. What she did say was, “Don’t flatter me.” I could have kicked her.

  I went upstairs and tidied my own room, then sorted out the things we would need for Alan’s now she was moving into it. I left the master bedroom severely alone. That room was waiting for me, Simon had said. But I wasn’t interested in it as long as her delphinium-blue flimsies were lying around in it.

  For once there was no essential shopping to do. But I had to get out of the house before I began on lunch. I told Mrs. Cox, “I won’t be more than half an hour,” and hurried out to get the Metropolitan.

  It wasn’t there. The garage was empty.

  I ran back to the house. “Mrs. Cox—my car’s gone!” I called up the stairs. “Do you know—”

  She leaned over the landing rail. “Yes, Miss. The new doctor took it. See, Dr. Teare, she hasn’t got one of her own.”

  I boiled with rage. “Nobody asked me!” I said. “I might have needed it!” And then I cooled down. After all, Simon hadn’t given it to me. Not in so many words. It was simply there for me to use. I walked about moodily in the woods for a long time before I came around to accepting the fact.

  Simon was the first in for lunch, and I tackled him at once. “You didn’t say you were lending Dallas the Metropolitan,” I said. “I was worried sick when I found the garage empty. I thought
it had been stolen or something.”

  He looked at me steadily. “I didn’t lend it to her,” he explained.

  “I lent her my own. I’ve been using yours. And I thought Dallas would have told you—I asked her to.”

  “I haven’t even seen her since Alan left,” I sighed. “Of course I don’t expect to use it, if you need it—it’s yours, after all! But I thought she’d have one of her own.”

  “Afraid not. We’ll just have to manage until she gets one.” He patted my arm. “I’ll ginger her up about it—you shall have yours back as soon as the other is fixed.”

  I was sorry at once. “It isn’t mine!” I said. “I don’t expect to have one. It was just that...”

  He was looking at me hard. “It’s Friday tomorrow,” he reminded me. “Would you like to go out somewhere?”

  I remembered the Friday before, when he had sent Alan to join me at the theater. “Will you turn up this time? I was so disappointed when you sent Alan along last week.”

  “You were? But I thought—”

  “You thought what, Simon?”

  He looked down awkwardly at his plate. “Oh, I don’t know. I had the idea you enjoyed Alan’s company. He must be much more fun for you than I am. Besides—”

  “Of course I enjoy his company! Who wouldn’t? But I’d much rather have had yours.”

  He flushed momentarily. “Nice of you to say so. But as Dallas says, you’re bound to miss Alan.”

  So Dallas had been talking. No doubt she had given him a colorful description of what she had seen from her window. “She knows nothing about me,” I said shortly. “Or about you. She hasn’t been in the place five minutes—don’t quote her at me as an authority, Simon.” I looked up. “You may as well know that I’ve told him I’ll go out and see him at the airport some time. When I have a car to use,” I added.

  The conversation languished after that. And then Dallas entered. She was wearing a yellow jersey dress that fitted like a second skin. She gave the casseroled beef a pained look and pushed her plate away. “I meant to ask. Could I have just a plain salad for lunch? In future?”

  I looked at Simon. “Of course,” he said quickly. “I’m sure Lanna could arrange that. Couldn’t you, Lanna?”

  “I expect so,” I said ungraciously. “I can’t offer you any at the moment. I couldn’t do much shopping today. I didn’t have a car, and there’s no grocery nearby.”

  She raised her perfect eyebrows. “But don’t they deliver? My, they’re backward around here.”

  I would have liked to tell her about Mr. Sawney, our little grocer, who was a patient of Simon’s. We’d have broken his heart if we had gone elsewhere for our vegetables. He couldn’t afford a telephone and didn’t have a van, either. But it wouldn’t have meant anything to her.

  She leaned on her elbows and folded her hands under her chin and fixed Simon with a wide-eyed look. “Simon—do I have to move into another bedroom? Can’t I stay where I am?” She ignored me completely. “I just love that room. You don’t need it, do you? I’m sure I’d never sleep in a small room.”

  I stood up and slammed out into the kitchen for the pudding. When I got back it was all settled. “Thanks, Simon,” she was saying, “That’s swell of you.” She looked at me without moving her yellow head. “Lanna—you hear? I’m to stay in the big room. Maybe you’ll see that Mrs. Cox puts my things back.”

  “You had better ask her yourself,” I said shortly. “She has a good deal to do.” And I, I thought, have no intention of playing lady’s maid. Now or ever.

  “Sure, I’ll do that.” She looked surprised. “She’s a very odd woman, don’t you think?”

  “She’s an excellent woman,” I retorted. “And she gets through more work than any two others would. We’d hate to lose her.” Mrs. Cox was about as awkward as they came—I knew that, but I couldn’t let Dallas get away with saying so.

  She only played with the apple pudding I’d made because it was Simon’s favorite, and then, drinking my share of the coffee as well as her own, she said, “I called on the Bridger family this morning. I see Alan had the woman down as ante-natal.”

  Simon looked up. “Yes?” How did you get on?”

  “My dear man! All those children! The woman’s incredible. Of course I told her my opinion.”

  “Did you?” I butted in, as evenly as I could. “I’m sure she was interested.”

  “She was very rude, as a matter of fact. Tried to show me the door. But that’s a reaction one expects, of course. I just sat down and told her what I thought. And when I call at the hospital I shall tell that husband of hers, as well.”

  “I wouldn’t,” I said tightly. “I’d save my breath.”

  “Well! I never heard of such defeatism. The woman can’t be allowed to go on having children at this rate! Why, in Toronto we would have—”

  “This,” I said distinctly, “is not Toronto.” And I walked out and left them. If I hadn’t I would have lost my temper. We all had our own ideas about what Mrs. Bridger “ought” to do—but that didn’t give us the right to play the dictator with her. Up in my room, I fumed. Dallas Teare had been in the practice exactly one day—and already she was telling Simon how to run it. I wondered how long he would put up with that. He was a good doctor and the patients adored him. They were certainly not going to adore Dallas.

  I dashed off a note to Mrs. Tarsh to cheering her on, before I did anything else. I told her Alan had gone. She would miss him, too.

  I reflected that Simon had a B.M.A. meeting to attend after evening surgery. I had no intention of entertaining Dallas while he was away, and she would certainly have to be in on call while he was absent. I went downstairs and telephoned Nurse Green.

  For once she was in. “Just snatching an egg,” she said. “Then I’ve got to dash off again. Be brief, there’s a dear.”

  “Come around tonight,” I said. “I can’t talk to this woman. I shall burst.”

  “Who? La Teare? I haven’t met her yet. What’s she like?”

  “A film star,” I answered.

  “I see.” She sounded as though she did, too. “I’ll be along around half past seven if I can keep the district quiet. I’ll have my calls put through there, shall I?”

  “Yes, do that,” I agreed. “See you then.”

  I felt better when I’d done that. I supposed I ought to have asked Simon before I invited her over, but I was sure he wouldn’t mind. Dallas would not think twice before she invited visitors, and I had surely as much right to call the place my home as she had.

  Simon left for the meeting right after tea, and Dallas had to handle evening surgery for the first time. I wondered how she would cope with the regulars; and when I had collected the used magazines from my room and the sitting room I took them through to the waiting room.

  Normally there would have been about ten people waiting; I was surprised to find only three, one of whom was on his feet ready to leave.

  He pushed past me awkwardly. “Not staying?” I said. “The doctor shouldn’t be long.”

  “I wanted to see Dr. Pullar,” he said. “I don’t fancy a lady doctor myself.”

  “I’m afraid you’ll have to get used to the idea. Dr. Teare is taking Dr. Murray’s place, you see. She’s a—” The words stuck in my throat. “She’s an extremely good doctor.” Well, that was what Simon had said. “Are you sure you won’t stay?”

  He shook his head. “I’m not the only one that’s gone away,” he pointed out. “There was a lot here tonight—It isn’t so much that it’s a lady doctor, Miss...”

  I tried to look sympathetic. “What is it, then?”

  “Well,” The man looked down at his cap, and then up at me again. “She’s been a bit sharp with some of ‘em, like. Told Mrs. Maxwell there’s nothing the matter with her, for one; and we all know what her legs are. And there was old Jim Bustard up for his usual bottle—shot him out backwards, she did. Said he was wasting public money, and that. Not right, that isn’t, Miss. Dr. Pullar ne
ver—”

  “I’m so sorry,” I said. “You see, Dr. Teare isn’t used to our ways yet. You must make allowances...”

  But he had made up his mind. “No, I’ll come Monday and see Dr. Pullar,” he persisted. “No hard feelings, Miss.”

  I let him go.

  Later I heard Dallas going upstairs, and I remembered that I had done nothing about moving her things back into the master bedroom. Freud would have had an explanation for that, I was quite sure. I find it as easy as anyone else to forget the things I resent doing. I waited for her to come hurtling down the stairs to complain, but she didn’t. And a few minutes later Nurse Green came wearily in.

  She threw her coat on the settee. “Am I tired! I’ve had four deliveries today, and one of them a breech. I’m whacked.” She sat down and took a deep breath. “And what the blazes does that Teare woman think she’s up to?”

  “I wouldn’t know. Why?”

  “Well—don’t tell a soul, will you?—little Mrs. Bridger was talking about suicide this afternoon. After she’d called!”

  I didn’t imagine Simon would mind if I gave her a glass of his sherry. I made it a large one and handed it to her. “You need a pick-me-up. I was afraid of something like that. She said she’d been down there delivering a lecture. Simon took a dim view.”

  “A lecture? That what she calls it?” Green sipped her sherry and looked up wide-eyed. “She fairly bawled at the poor woman, from what I can make out. Shrieked like a fishwife, I imagine. Lord, I hold no brief for the Bridger set-up, but there is a limit!”

  We heard Dallas coming downstairs and I looked at Nurse Green. “Here you are. Now you can have a go at her yourself about Mrs. Bridger.”

  But she didn’t have a chance. Dallas flung the door wide open. She could see me, but Green was out of range. “Mrs. Cox has done nothing about moving my things,” she said curtly. “I’ve had to do it myself.”