A Secret Infatuation. Betty Neels

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СКАЧАТЬ at five o’clock, whey-faced from tiredness still but none the less as beautiful as ever, she presented herself at Sister’s desk.

      ‘Had a good sleep?’ asked that lady. ‘Everything’s seen to here. There’s nothing in Cas for the moment. Nurse Timms will be back from tea in five minutes. She can turn out the dental cabinet. I’ve left the off-duty for you to sort out, and you can fill in the day book and see to the laundry.’ Sister Cross handed over the keys. ‘You had better go to bed early.’

      Eugenie, who would have gone to bed at that very moment given the chance, said, ‘Yes, Sister,’ in a deceptively meek voice.

      Nurse Timms was a small, meek girl with a prim expression, good at her work but not liked overmuch by her colleagues. She made tea for Eugenie when she got back and then went away to start on the dental cabinet. Eugenie was sure she would do a perfect job on it.

      She drank her tea and turned her attention to the off-duty book. There were a number of slips of paper inside it with requests from the theatre staff for particular days off duty. No wonder Sister Cross had left it to her, thought Eugenie crossly. If all the requests were to be granted it would be chaos. Sister Cross had pencilled in a few observations of her own, putting herself down for a weekend and Eugenie for two days in the middle of the week.

      ‘I shall go home,’ said Eugenie in a satisfied voice.

      ‘A splendid idea,’ said Mr Rijnma ter Salis, coming into the office. He leaned over the desk, reading the off-duty book upside down. ‘Wednesday and Thursday—what could be better? I’m going down to Exeter, I’ll give you a lift.’

      Eugenie had gone pink, and she didn’t speak for a moment for she seemed to have lost her voice. Besides, her heart had jumped into her throat and was getting terribly in the way, but since he was waiting for her to reply she took a deep breath. ‘That’s very kind of you to offer, sir, but I’ll drive myself. I have to come back.’

      ‘So do I. Late Thursday evening suit you? You don’t have to be locked up at ten o’clock, do you? Presumably only the young are considered in need of a watchful eye?’

      Eugenie choked. She said peevishly, ‘We older women are trusted to behave ourselves.’ She glared at him. Bad temper, did she but know it, gave her good looks an added sparkle.

      ‘No need to get cross. You’re tired, of course. But it was worth it; he’s doing very well, holding his own. I’ve just been in to have a look at him.’

      ‘I’m so glad. I do hope all goes well with him.’

      Mr Rijnma ter Salis smiled at her and her heart lurched against her ribs.

      ‘You are good at your job,’ he observed. ‘Your talents are varied—finding your way through thick mist, looking after parsons with heavy colds, and handing instruments at exactly the right time. I’ll be outside at seven o’clock on Tuesday evening—can’t make it earlier. With luck you’ll be home around midnight.’

      ‘I haven’t said …’ began Eugenie. His eyes, very bright blue, were fixed on her face. ‘Thank you, that would be nice.’

      He nodded then, wished her good evening and went away as quietly as he had come.

      There was nothing to hinder her thinking about him; she polished off the off-duty list in between bouts of daydreaming. Was he married, she wondered, or engaged? In love with some girl in Holland? For her own peace of mind she would have to find out. Perhaps she would be able to discover that on their way to her home.

      Tuesday evening took a long time in coming. With Sister Cross away at the weekend, Eugenie was in charge of the theatre and although she was kept fairly busy she was by no means overworked; the junior theatre sister dealt with minor cases in the second theatre and there were several part-time staff nurses, and although there was a list on Monday Mr Pepper took it. It was annoying to say the least of it to go off duty when Sister Cross arrived back at midday, and to find on her return that Mr Rijnma ter Salis had operated on a bypass that afternoon.

      There was no sign of him on Tuesday; she went off duty at five o’clock uncertain if he had remembered that he was driving her home—and supposing a serious cardiac case needed operating upon?

      She changed, picked up her overnight bag and at seven went down to the forecourt, convinced that he wouldn’t be there.

      He was leaning up against the porter’s lodge, very large and elegant and apparently deep in thought. Long before she had reached him he came towards her.

      ‘Hello—’ his smile was friendly ‘—how delightfully punctual you are.’

      He took her bag and opened the door and they went outside together. It would be nice, thought Eugenie, if she could think of something to say—light-hearted or witty; instead she remarked upon the weather.

      ‘It looks as though it might rain.’

      His mouth twitched. ‘I think it very likely,’ he agreed gravely as he stowed her into the car and put her bag on the back seat, got in beside her and drove off. No time was to be lost in casual small talk, she supposed, over her initial shyness. She sat quietly as he drove through the city and its suburbs, but once free of the traffic she took the bit between her teeth.

      ‘Are you married?’ she wanted to know.

      If he were surprised at her question he concealed it very well. ‘No.’

      ‘But I expect you’re engaged?’ she persisted. She hadn’t really expected him to say, ‘Yes I am,’ in a voice which dared her to ask any more questions.

      It was a blow and she didn’t know why she had assumed that he was heart-whole. He was, after all, what polite society would call eligible—handsome, esteemed in his profession, possessed apparently of enough money to make life very comfortable. She wondered who the girl was, and Eugenie, being Eugenie, proceeded to find out despite the coolness of his manner.

      ‘I expect she’s Dutch?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘And pretty … Is she—that is, what does she do?’

      He didn’t answer at once. ‘She has a great many friends, travels a good deal and does some social work …’

      ‘But not a job?’

      ‘No. She has no need to work.’

      ‘Well,’ said Eugenie, ‘that will be nice when you marry. I mean she’ll be able to stay at home and look after the children.’ The very idea made her feel sick.

      ‘Er, yes, I suppose so.’ His words were expressionless. ‘Did you phone your mother to say that you would be arriving late in the evening?’

      All right, snub me! thought Eugenie, aching with the kind of unhappiness she hadn’t known existed. ‘Yes, I telephoned her. And if you don’t want to talk about your fiancée, that’s OK by me.’

      His voice was bland. ‘Did I say I wished to talk about her? It was you—’

      ‘All right,’ she snapped. ‘I was only making conversation.’

      He laughed then but didn’t answer her, and they drove down the A303 for what СКАЧАТЬ