by Betty Neels
‘Oh, Waterloo. It’s not a nice part of London, is it?’
‘No, and yet you left Pleane alone there. You’ll forgive me if I go out again.’
‘To find her? But you never will—you’ll get lost in all those horrid streets. I’m sure she’ll come back when she’s seen all she wants to.’
Professor van Rakesma went to the door. ‘Fred will give you dinner if we’re not back.’
Fred was hovering in the hall. ‘Going to find her? You won’t want Richard with you, then. I’ll have him with me in the kitchen. I’ll serve dinner at the usual time, shall I, sir? And do be careful.’
‘I will, Fred.’
The car was still outside; he got in and drove through the city until he came to Mr Bell’s shop. He went inside and found it half-full of customers, with Mr Bell perched on some short steps, handing books down to Mary.
He wasted no time on polite greetings. ‘May I borrow Mary? My sister, Pleane, has taken herself off to some of the shadier streets by the river—she’s been gone for some hours—and I must find her. It would be easier if I had someone with me.’
At Mr Bell’s nod he looked at Mary. ‘You’ll come? I need someone sensible and not given to panic.’
It wasn’t much of a compliment but she said quietly, ‘Yes, of course I’ll come, if Mr Bell won’t mind.’
‘We shall be closing soon, my dear. Run along. Pleane must be found before the evening. Let me know when you find her.’
In the car Professor van Rakesma handed her the phone. ‘Perhaps you had better let your family know that you will be late home.’
It was Polly who answered, and he listened with a flash of amusement when Mary said, ‘Yes, of course I’m safe; I’m with Professor van Rakesma.’ She put the phone back and waited for him to explain.
‘Pleane is impulsive—she’s a darling girl, wildly extravagant, but she would take the clothes off her back if someone needed them. She has been reading about the homeless who live under the railway arches and along the river—in fact we have talked about it a good deal, but I never realised that she intended to go and see for herself.’
‘Is there anyone with her?’
‘No. An old friend, Mevrouw van Hoeven, is staying with us, but she returned when they got to Waterloo.’ Something in his voice stopped her from asking any more questions.
If the old friend was the woman he intended to marry then of course he wouldn’t want her to get involved in what might be, at best, a distressing experience. She said bracingly, ‘I’ve not been in that district, but I should think it would be easy to find her—I mean...’ She paused awkwardly. ‘Well, she isn’t one of them.’
‘You’re right. She isn’t timid, thank heaven. In fact, she’s far too friendly—and not always with the right kind of people.’
‘She sounds like our Polly. I shan’t tell you not to worry, because I expect you’re scared stiff, but she hasn’t been gone long and we’re nearly there. Where will you park the car?’
‘Practical Mary. Outside the station—maybe I can find someone to keep an eye on it...’ He put his ‘Doctor on duty’ sign on the windscreen and got out. ‘You’re wearing sensible shoes...’
He went away to talk to a traffic warden on the other side of the road, and she was left to wonder at his remark. The emphasis had been on the ‘you’re’. She felt a faint prick of resentment at the way he had taken it for granted that they would be sensible.
She was glad of them presently, though. They had walked through narrow, damp streets, with blank-faced warehouses on either side and trains thundering over the bridges above them, and she had had a job to keep up with his long strides, but she managed, sensing that he was too anxious to think of her.
Presently they turned into a labyrinth of dreary streets under more railway arches. Here they found the people who made these places their homes. They were sitting around—some were lying asleep, one or two were eating food from paper bags. The newcomers were watched apathetically until an old woman, surrounded by plastic bags, called out, ‘Hi, Doc. You’re early and it ain’t yer night. There ain’t no one ill, either.’
He walked over to her. ‘Anne, I am glad to see you on your feet again. I’m looking for my young sister; she came this way earlier today.’
‘I see’d ’er. Pretty young miss too. Gorn further down, she ‘as. Gave me a few bob too.’ She waved an arm in its dirty old coat. “Yer’ll find her.’
He thanked her and walked on, with a silent Mary beside him. So he came here, did he? She knew that teams of doctors and nurses and helpers came each night to do what they could, and her loving heart was filled with pride for him. She didn’t speak—this was no time to talk; besides, he was stopping every few yards, asking for his sister.
They had gone quite a long way, passing one or two quarrelsome groups of young men and boys, when Mary said quietly, ‘There she is—sitting with those four girls and the boys...’
She couldn’t be mistaken; Pleane stuck out like a sore thumb, surrounded by those less fortunate than herself. She had no jacket—it was wrapped around a thin girl sitting beside her—and she was emptying her handbag on to her lap and handing out its contents.
Mary felt Professor van Rakesma’s hand grip her arm. ‘Yes.’ He sounded grim, but as they reached the little group he spoke in a matter-of-fact voice.
‘Pleane, I knew we’d find you here.’ He sat down beside her and Mary sat on her other side. He glanced round him, smiling. ‘Why, it’s Elsie, isn’t it? How’s that sore throat?’
‘Doc-didn’t recognise you in yer posh clothes.‘ Elsie looked around at the staring faces. ‘Hey, this is Doc; he’s all right. Comes ‘ere with food and stuff and doesn’t preach. Who’s the lady, then?’
‘This is Mary, a friend of mine.’
There was a general laugh. ‘Need a bit of company, did you, Doc?’
They stared at Mary then, and so did Pleane. ‘Roel didn’t tell me...’ she began, and decided not to go on. ‘It’s been lovely meeting you all,’ she said in her fluent, accented English. ‘I didn’t know Roel came here, but I’m glad I came. If I lived here I’d come with him.’ She handed her empty handbag to the nearest girl. ‘You have it. I wish I’d brought more money with me; I’d given it all away by the time I got here.’
The professor produced a handful of coins. ‘Get some chips or hot drinks. I’ll see you next week. Anyone got a job yet?’
There was a chorus of noes.
‘Well, don’t lose hope—and keep out of mischief!’
Pleane was shaking hands with everyone, and the girl she had given the handbag to kissed her. Amid a chorus of goodbyes they started on their way back, Pleane walking between them. ‘You’re not angry, Roel? Only, I just had to see for myself—and I was quite safe, you see, and I’m so glad that you come here.’ She looked sideways at Mary. ‘It was kind of you to come with Roel,’ she said shyly.
‘Well, I didn’t know I was coming,’ Mary explained.
‘But Professor van Rakesma asked me if I would—it’s easier to find someone if there are two of you.’
Pleane gave her a startled look. ‘Oh, I thought you were friends...’
‘We know each other,’ said Mary primly, and didn’t see his grin.
‘I asked Mary to come with me because she is the only sensible female I know, guaranteed not to lose her head. Sometimes things can be a little tricky down here.’
Indignation swelled Mary’s splendid bosom. So that was all she was good for, was it? She had a mind to throw a fit of hysterics there and then, only she wasn’t sure how to set about it.
They walked back in silence and got into the car. Professor van Rakesma had taken a quick look at his sister as they reached it and had said mildly, ‘Get in the back with Mary, liefje.’ He looked at his watch: ‘I’ll take you home first, Mary—Mr Bell will be closed.’
‘Thank you. Shouldn’t I ring him, though?’
‘I’ll do that presently.’
The eve
ning traffic was quiet and be drove almost unhindered to Hampstead; Pleane, who had been chattering almost without stopping to draw breath, became silent. As he stopped at Mary’s front door she said urgently, ‘I’m going to be sick.’
Mary and Professor van Rakesma got out of the car fast and hauled the unfortunate Pleane on to the grass verge—only just in time. ‘I feel awful,’ said Pleane and fainted.
‘Bring her indoors,’ said Mary, and ran up the path to fling the door wide. ‘Upstairs, the first door on the left.’ She went up after him and tossed the quilt aside so that he could lay his sister down. ‘You’d better go and lock your car,’ she said matter-of-factly. ‘I’ll get Pleane comfortable.’
Pleane’s pretty face was a nasty greenish-white. She opened her eyes as Mary took off her shoes and undid her thin top. ‘I feel so awful,’ she said, and was sick again just as Professor van Rakesma returned.
Despite his concern for his sister he couldn’t help but admire Mary’s calm as she bent over Pleane, holding her head and mopping her up in a matter-of-fact way, murmuring soothingly as she did it.
‘Did you have anything to eat, Pleane?’
She nodded. ‘One of the girls gave me a sandwich. I think it was fish or chicken; it tasted a bit like tin but I was hungry.’
They were speaking in Dutch and he turned to Mary. ‘Something she’s eaten. The more she vomits the better.’ He had brought his bag with him. ‘She will be needing fluids...’
‘I’ll find a nightie for her and get her into bed. I expect you want to look her over. Is there anything you need?’
‘No. If I can get her a little better I can drive her home.’
‘Nonsense,’ said Mary roundly. ‘Whatever next? And you a doctor. She can stay here tonight, and if she’s better in the morning you can fetch her then. I’ll look after her. If I’m worried I shall phone you.’
She turned her head as Polly poked her head round the door. ‘What’s up? Anything I can do?’
‘Yes, love, fetch one of your nighties; Professor van Rakesma’s sister isn’t feeling very well and is staying here for the night.’ She proffered the bowl just at the right moment. ‘And please bring a bowl of water and a towel and sponge, will you, and a jug of water?’
‘OK.’ Polly’s head disappeared.
‘Your parents will have no objection?’ The professor was bending over Pleane, peering down her throat.
‘No. They would be upset if you were to take her home while she’s feeling so wretched.’
‘You’re very kind.’ He spoke absently. His gentle hands were prodding Pleane’s stomach, and he was asking her questions in a quiet voice.
Mary, standing there with a bowl at the ready, reflected that the Dutch language sounded like nonsense. All the same, she wished she could understand what he was saying.
He was saying to his sister that she would be quite safe with Mary—a most sensible girl, not given to panicking. He added, ‘I wouldn’t leave you here if I wasn’t quite sure that I can depend on her.’
Polly came back presently. ‘Mother’s still in the shed,’ she informed Mary, ’and Father’s in his study.’
‘Good. Be an angel and make some coffee, please, and I expect Professor van Rakesma would like to wash his hands while I get Pleane undressed.’
He went meekly, hiding amusement at Mary’s practical manner. Ushered to the bathroom and offered a towel by Polly, he observed, ‘Your sister would make a splendid ward sister.’
‘Bossy, you mean?’ Polly hadn’t taken offence. ‘You see, she has to look after us and run our house and make a living; she is used to getting things done, otherwise they wouldn’t—get done, I mean. She’d realty like to be cosseted and cherished and have some time to do what she likes. I’d like her to get married...’
‘I’m sure she will marry, Polly; she’s very pretty.’ He glanced around him and saw the damp patch in the corner, with the bucket underneath it. It would have to be a man with plenty of money, he decided silently. He smiled at Polly and said, ‘Shall we go and have another look at the invalid?’
‘Is she very ill?’
‘I think not. She ate something this afternoon; once she’s got rid of it she’ll feel better.’
Mary was sitting on the bed, an arm round Pleane, holding the bowl once more, but Pleane looked a little better now. There was a faint colour in her cheeks and Mary had washed her face and hands. When she saw her brother she broke into a torrent of Dutch and he listened gravely.
‘Pleane is sorry to cause such a disturbance,’ he told Mary. ‘You are sure you don’t mind her staying here for the night?’
‘Of course we don’t mind, and she’s no trouble at all. I’m going to stay awhile and talk to her while Polly gives you a cup of coffee. Are you hungry?’
He smiled then and she looked away quickly, afraid that he might see how she felt about him. ‘Indeed I am—you must be too.’
‘That’s easy,’ said Polly, hovering in the doorway. ‘While you have your coffee I’ll get some supper. There’s heaps left over—bacon and egg pie and there’s the rest of the apple tart.’ She beamed at him. ‘While you and Mary are eating it I’ll sit with Pleane, then I can tell you if she’s not feeling so good.’
‘Splendid, Potly—if Mary doesn’t mind.’
‘I think it’s a very good idea; by the time we’ve had supper you’ll be able to see that your sister’s feeling better.’
It was a pity that Pleane chose to be sick again just then; Mary hardly noticed as they went away while she urged her to drink a glass of water.
They came back presently, and Professor van Rakesma pronounced himself satisfied with Pleane’s condition. She looked like a wet hen but the worst, he assured her, was over, which left him free to accompany Mary down to the kitchen where she found that Polly had laid a cloth on the kitchen table and set out plates, knives and forks.
‘Do sit down,’ she urged him. ‘It’s not very exciting, I’m afraid, but if you’re hungry...’
Professor van Rakesma, however, had been taught his manners when a small boy; he didn’t sit down until she had served them both, and when they had polished off the bacon and egg pie he gathered up the plates and fetched the apple tart.
‘More coffee?’ asked Mary, sorry that the meal was over, for surprisingly they had found plenty to talk about.
‘That would be nice. Should I perhaps see your father before I go?’
‘He’d like that; I’ll fetch Mother too. I expect you want to take another look at Pleane.’
‘Yes. I think she’ll be all right now, but if I may I’ll phone about eleven o’clock—that’s not too late?’
‘No, I’ll still be up—and I get up quite early in the morning if you want to phone then.’
‘You’re very kind.’ He sounded formal. ‘I’ll do that. If you think she is fit I’ll fetch her at some time convenient to you.’
She nodded. ‘Any time in the morning.’ She poured their coffee. ‘If you want to ring your home the phone is in the hall. Do use it if you would like to.’
He shook his head and said slowly, ‘I have a car phone.’
She said quickly, ‘I’ll go and tell Father you are here.’
She fetched her mother too and the professor stayed for a short time, saying all the right things in his pleasant voice and presently bidding them goodnight and going upstairs once more to check on Pleane. She was feeling better, but weary from the sickness and spasms of pain. He examined her carefully once more, left tablets for the night, gave Mary a few instructions, bade them all goodnight once again, and went out to his car. Polly went with him.
‘You must have had a nasty fright,’ she observed.
‘Very nasty. Luckily it didn’t turn out as badly as it might have done.’
‘I like your sister. Is your lady-friend nice too?’
‘I don’t think I could describe her as that.’ He smiled a little but he didn’t answer her question. ‘I’ll be back in the morning. I’m most gr
ateful to Mary.’
‘She’s super. Such a pity you don’t like each other.’ She leaned up and gave him a kiss. ‘At least, she probably likes you only she pretends she doesn’t.’
‘Why should she do that?’ he asked with interest.
‘You can always ask her,’ said Polly.
He didn’t answer that, but drove himself back home and let himself into the flat. As usual Fred came to meet him in the hall. ‘Found Miss Pleane, sir? I was getting a bit worried.’
‘Yes, thank you, Fred. She’s quite safe, spending the night with someone I know. We found her down by the river...’
‘Your pitch?’
‘That’s right. She appeared to have had a splendid time. Unfortunately she ate some food there and has had a bad tummy upset. I’ll fetch her in the morning.’
‘You’ll be wanting a meal, sir?’
‘No, thanks; I had supper at Miss Pagett’s home.’
‘Very good, sir. Mrs van Hoeven’s in the drawing-room.’
‘Ah, yes. Thank you, Fred. You gave her some dinner?’
‘Yes, sir. I’ve got Richard in the kitchen with me...’
Professor van Rakesma paused on his way across the hall. ‘He can come up now, Fred. I’ll take him out presently.’
He opened the drawing-room door and went in.
lisa almost ran across the room to him. ‘Roel, is she safe? You have no idea how awful I feel—I never thought she would go off like that—she knew that I didn’t want to go through those filthy little streets.’
He didn’t sit down but went to the French window leading to the small garden behind the flats, opened it and let Richard out. ‘Yes, I found her, Ilsa. She’s spending the night with some people I know.’
He didn’t say any more and Ilsa, sensing that he wasn’t going to tell her anything further, wisely said nothing for a while. Presently she said, ‘You do forgive me, Roel? It was stupid of me; I should have remembered that Pleane is so impulsive.’
When he didn’t answer she asked, ‘These people that she’s with—they’ll take good care of her? Could you not have brought her here? She’s not ill?’ She gave a little shudder. ‘Not caught something frightful from those people she met?’