A Girl in a Million. Бетти Нилс

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      She started along the corridor which ran at the back of the entrance hall and then stopped with a small gasp when she was tapped on the shoulder.

      Mr van Houben, unhurried and as always, immaculate, was at her side. ‘When did you go on duty, Nurse?’

      ‘Ten o’clock, sir.’

      ‘You have had no off duty?’

      ‘I’m off now,’ she told him and added, ‘sir’ as she started off again.

      ‘Not so fast. Did I hear Sister Crump say that you have had no proper meal today?’

      ‘I have had sandwiches and coffee…’ She stopped to think—it seemed a long time ago.

      ‘Yes, yes—I said a meal.’

      ‘I shall go to supper presently.’

      ‘You deserve better than that. I’m hungry too; we’ll go and find somewhere to eat.’

      ‘We’ll what?’ She goggled at the sight of him, her mouth open like a surprised child. ‘But you can’t do that…’

      ‘Why not?’ he asked coolly. ‘I am not aware that I am restricted in my actions by anyone or anything.’

      ‘Well, no, of course you’re not. I mean, you don’t have to bother, do you? But it really wouldn’t do, you know. Important people like you don’t take junior nurses out to dinner.’

      ‘You are mistaken, we aren’t going to dinner. Go and put on a coat and some powder on your nose and we will go to the Bristling Dog down the street and eat sausages out of a basket.’

      He didn’t wait for her reply. ‘And comb your hair,’ he advised her kindly as he gave her a gentle shove in the direction of the door to the nurses’ home. He added, ‘If you aren’t back here within ten minutes I shall come and find you.’

      ‘You can’t…’ He must be light-headed with hunger, she decided, or in a state of euphoria because Marc had shown the first tentative signs of recovery.

      He said coldly, ‘Can I not?’ and gave her a steely look which sent her through the door and up the stairs to her room.

      He had said ten minutes and he had undoubtedly meant what he had said. Caroline had never changed so fast in her life before. She raced out of her room and almost fell over Janey.

      ‘Hey—where are you off to?’ Janey made a grasp at her arm.

      ‘I can’t stop,’ said Caroline breathlessly, ‘he said in ten minutes…’

      She raced down the stairs and Janey, five minutes later, told those of her friends who were in the sitting-room that Caroline had gone out with a man.

      ‘Good for her,’ said someone. ‘It’s time she had some fun.’

      If Caroline had heard that remark she would have felt doubtful about the fun. Mr van Houben was waiting for her, looking remote, almost forbidding, and she very nearly turned tail and went back through the door. The prospect of a good supper was a powerful incentive, however, and she went to where he was standing and said quietly, ‘Well, here I am, Mr van Houben.’

      He stood for a moment looking down at her. She had got into the first thing which had come to hand, a short jacket over a thin sweater and a pleated skirt, and, because ten minutes hadn’t been nearly long enough, her hair, though tidy, had been pinned back ruthlessly into a bun instead of its usual French pleat, and there had been even less time to spend on her face.

      Mr van Houben laughed inwardly at his sudden decision to take this small unassuming person out for a meal. It had been triggered off by the sight of her sitting by little Marc; she had been the one who had first seen his faint stirrings and acted promptly, but no one had so much as spared her a smile and she had been sent off duty without so much as a thank-you. She must have longed to share their triumph and relief. He was a kind man; at least he could make up for that by giving her a meal.

      He said with impersonal friendliness, ‘You hadn’t anything planned for this evening?’ As he ushered her through the doors and out into the forecourt.

      She answered him in her sensible way, ‘No, nothing at all.’

      He took her arm as they crossed the busy street. ‘No boyfriend to disappoint?’ He was sorry he had said that for, looking down at her in the light of a street lamp, he saw the look on her face and to make amends he added, ‘I should imagine that there is little time for serious friendships while you are training. Plenty of time for that once that’s done with! You might like to travel—there are quite a number of English nurses in our bigger hospitals in Holland.’

      He eased the conversation into impersonal channels until they reached the Bristling Dog, where he urged her into the saloon bar, half filled already, mostly by elderly couples and a sprinkling of younger people, most of them eating as well as drinking, and several, Caroline noticed, from the hospital.

      Mr van Houben sat her down at a small corner table and fetched the well-thumbed menu card from the bar. It held a surprising variety of food, but Mr van Houben had suggested sausages… ‘Sausages and chips, please,’ she told him, anxious to fall in with his own wishes.

      ‘Splendid,’ he said, and with unerring instinct, ‘and a pot of tea?’

      He was rewarded with her smile. ‘That would be nice.’

      The food came, hot and tasty, and with it a pot of tea and thick cups and saucers. Caroline poured out and handed him his cup. It was strong, and even with milk and sugar he found it unpalatable. All the same, he drank a second cup because it was obvious that Caroline expected him to. He was rewarded by her sweet smile and the observation given in matter-of-fact tones that a cup of tea was a splendid pick-me-up when tired.

      Over the last of the chips he asked her what she thought of London. ‘You live here?’ he asked casually.

      ‘No, I live with my aunt at Basing—that’s near Basingstoke. I go home twice a month.’

      ‘The English countryside is very charming,’ he observed, and from then until they returned to the hospital they talked about it, and the weather, of course, a conversation which gave him no insight as to her likes and dislikes. She was a sensible girl with nice manners and a gentle way with her, and he was surprised to discover that he had rather enjoyed his evening with her. He bade her goodnight in the entrance hall and listened to her nicely put thanks and didn’t tell her that he would be returning to Holland in the morning. Marc’s father, recalled from a remote region of South America where he was building a bridge, would be installed with his wife and baby daughter by now, and Mr van Houben could return to his own work with a moderately easy mind.

      He watched her go through the door at the back of the hall and made his way to the children’s wing where he found Mr Spence, his brother Bartus and Sister Crump, who quite often stayed on duty if she saw fit.

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