Last April Fair. Бетти Нилс

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СКАЧАТЬ the ever-changing succession of patients, and some of those, like old Mrs Gregson, were so upset at her going that she had promised that she would come and visit them the moment she got back from the cruise. Unthinkingly she had mentioned that to Philip and been furious with herself for doing so when she saw the knowing little smile on his face, smugly sure that she was making an excuse to return to the hospital and see him. She managed not to see too much of him, though, going home for her days off so that she might collect Gaby’s notes and listen to her father’s sound advice, as well as root around in her bedroom to see what clothes she should take with her. It would be warm for most of the time and last year’s summer dresses looked depressingly dull. She decided to travel in a jersey suit and the silk blouse she had bought in a fit of extravagance, pack some slacks and tops and buy one or two things in London.

      There was a nice selection of cruise clothes; her modest list lengthened as she went along the rails. In the end she left the shop with a new bikini, three cotton dresses, sleeveless and light as air, and because they were so pretty, two evening dresses, one in pink crêpe with not much top and a wide floating skirt, and the other of white organza. She wasn’t sure if she would have the chance to wear them, but there was no harm in taking them along. She already had a flowery-patterned long skirt and several pretty tops to go with it and a couple of short silky dresses from last year.

      She packed her bags, arranged to have the rest of her luggage sent home, bade goodbye to her friends at a rather noisy party after the day’s work, and retired to bed, but not to sleep at once. There was too much to think about—Gaby and her treatment and the still vague disquiet because she didn’t know too much about it, although the notes were comprehensive enough and her father had primed her well. Presumably the ship’s doctor would keep a close eye on her patient, and after all, her parents would be there. Slightly reassured, Phyllida allowed her thoughts to turn to Philip. She had contrived to bid him good-bye at the party, with people milling around them so that there was very little chance to say much. She had tried to sound final, but he hadn’t believed her. It was annoying and she worried about it, getting sleepier and sleepier until she nodded off at last.

      She left the hospital in some state, for the de Wolffs arrived for her in a chauffeur-driven Cadillac; it took up a lot of room in the forecourt and Phyllida, turning to wave to such of her friends who had managed to spare the time to look out of their ward windows, saw their appreciative grins. She got in beside the chauffeur after a final wave and caught Mrs de Wolff’s eye. It didn’t look in the least friendly and she wondered why, but she smiled at Mr de Wolff, and spoke to Gaby, who answered her eagerly and with encouraging warmth. Phyllida, a charitable girl who seldom thought ill of anyone, supposed Mrs de Woolff had had a trying time getting ready for their holiday. She settled herself in her seat, resolving to do her best to see that Gaby wasn’t only well looked after, but kept amused too, so that her parents could enjoy themselves too.

      They arrived at the dock with only a very short time to spare before embarking—done deliberately, Mr de Wolff explained, so that there would be no delays for Gaby in getting on board. Phyllida took her patient’s arm as they walked slowly up the gangway, for Gaby looked exhausted, then followed the steward up to the Sun Deck. They were to share a de luxe cabin and she looked around her with deep satisfaction; she was used to the normal comforts of life, but this was luxury. She sat Gaby down in a comfortable chair, noted with satisfaction that their luggage was already waiting for them, and took a quick look round.

      The cabin was large, even for the two of them, with beds widely spaced, a comfortable sofa, a table and two easy chairs. The window was large and the lighting well arranged and the adjoining bathroom all she could have wished for. It only needed a pleasant stewardess to offer to unpack for them to complete her satisfaction, but she declined this service and asked instead if they could have a tray of tea, for Gaby looked as though she could do with something of the sort. It was barely midday and Mr de Wolff had told her they would be going to the second sitting for their meals, still an hour and a half away; ample time to unpack, check unobtrusively that Gaby was fit to go to the restaurant, and try to get to know her better.

      They drank their tea without interruption. The de Wolffs hadn’t appeared; probably they realised that Gaby was tired and needed to rest. Phyllida unpacked for both of them, not bothering her patient to talk. After lunch she would search out the doctor, show him the notes and ask for any instructions he might care to give her. Gaby could rest on her bed in the mean-time. The girl looked fagged out and Phyllida frowned a little; the job was full of uncertainties and Gaby was a very sick girl. She wondered again if it had been wise of her parents to allow her to come on the cruise and then conceded that if the girl had set her heart on it and had so little time to live, they were only doing what any loving parents would want to do. It was a pity that Sir Keith hadn’t seen Gaby for some weeks, but the de Wolffs had said that he had agreed to the trip, so it must be reasonably safe for Gaby to go. Phyllida dismissed her gloomy thoughts and started to chat quietly, hanging away her patient’s lovely clothes as she did so.

      They shared a table with Mr and Mrs de Wolff at lunch, both of whom dominated the conversation, talking animatedly about the places they were to visit, the various entertainments on board and how splendid it all was for Gaby, who ate almost no lunch, replied docilely when she was spoken to, and attracted a good many admiring glances from the surrounding tables.

      Phyllida did too, although she wasn’t aware of it; she was too concerned about her patient.

      The meal was a leisurely one, passengers serving themselves from a long buffet of cold meats and salads, arranged in mouthwatering abundance. Gaby’s parents didn’t seem to notice that she was drooping with fatigue, so that Phyllida took affairs into her own hands and when the steward brought the coffee, excused both herself and Gaby, whisked her to their cabin, tucked her up on her bed, and went in search of the doctor’s surgery.

      It was three decks down, adjacent to a small hospital. The doctor was at his desk, a young man with a pleasant open face, talking to the ship’s nurse. Phyllida took a dislike to her on sight and felt that the feeling was reciprocated; she didn’t like heavy make-up and brightly tinted nails on a nurse, nor did she fancy the hard blue eyes and tight mouth in what should have been a pretty face. However, her errand wasn’t with the nurse. She introduced herself briskly, stated her business and waited for the doctor to speak.

      He looked bewildered. ‘But I haven’t heard…’ he began. ‘I’ve had no information about this Miss deWolff. Perhaps you’ll tell me about her, Miss—er—Cresswell.’

      It took a little time, although she gave the information concisely and without personal comment. When she had finished he said thoughtfully: ‘Of course I’ll look after her and do everything in my power to help. You say she’s entered a period remission? Then it’s quite possible that she’ll be able to enjoy this cruise, to a limited extent, of course—and return home at least none the worse. May I keep these notes and study them? I’ll see that you get them back. Perhaps if I were to call and see Miss de Wolff…this evening, or later this afternoon after tea?’

      Phyllida agreed. ‘I thought we’d have tea in the cabin and then dress without hurrying.’

      ‘Very wise. I think you should suit your activities to her mood. You say she insisted on coming on this holiday?’

      ‘Well, yes, so her parents told me—perhaps it was just a flash in the pan; she’s not shown anything but a— a kind of docile acceptance.’

      The doctor rose to his feet. ‘Would you like me to talk to her parents?’

      Phyllida considered. ‘If when you’ve seen her you think it necessary, yes, please.’ She hesitated. ‘They seem to think that this cruise will put her on her feet again. They can’t accept…’

      ‘I know—it’s hard for people to realise. Miss de Wolff has no inkling?’

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