Tangled Autumn. Betty Neels

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СКАЧАТЬ great stickler for etiquette—would never have countenanced casual help from a colleague crossed her mind. Presumably it was a different kettle of fish in these remote parts. She picked up her tray and went upstairs to find that her patient was alone and looking rather downcast, so when she had arranged everything so that the Baroness could manage with her one hand, she said: ‘I want to write up your charts—do you mind if I sit here and do them while you have your soup?’

      Her patient lifted her spoon. ‘Would you?’ she asked eagerly, ‘a new face is so refreshing.’ She spooned another mouthful. ‘You were quite right, Sappha—Rolf does look like a demon king—it’s extraordinary that I have never noticed it before.’

      Sappha put down her charts. ‘I must apologise, Baroness. I should never have said that—I had no intention…’

      Her companion nibbled toast. ‘Why should you be sorry?’ she asked. ‘I expect he was wearing some dreadful clothes and muddy boots and probably he hadn’t shaved. I believe he went out very early this morning—a broken leg near Ben Eighe and he would have to walk part of the way you know—it was off the road. Hamish was out on a baby case and one really can’t leave a person lying with a broken leg, can one?’

      Sappha said dryly: ‘No, that would be rather unkind,’ and her patient nodded before continuing: ‘Really, I hardly recognise him sometimes. At home, of course, he looks exactly like a doctor.’ She waved a hand in an expressive gesture, ‘and naturally, being the eldest, he tends to throw his weight around—is that the right expression?’

      Sappha smiled. ‘Yes, though perhaps it’s a little severe.’

      ‘Not nearly as severe as Rolf when he’s annoyed,’ retorted his mother with spirit.

      ‘All the same,’ commented Sappha, ‘you must be very glad of his support.’

      ‘Oh, I am, child, I am. My husband died when Rolf was twenty-five, and Antonia—the youngest—was only nine. The others are married now, which means that Rolf has more leisure, though he always has time for Tonia—they’re so fond of each other.’ She smiled a little wistfully. ‘She is such a dear child and I do miss her. She’s at school and I had hoped that she would be able to come over for a day or so—it’s so long to Christmas, but anyway, I shall be home before then.’

      Sappha took the empty soup bowl. ‘Good gracious, yes,’ she said bracingly, ‘but surely she could fly over for a weekend? There’s an airfield at Inverness…’ She stood deep in thought. ‘We could at least make a few enquiries.’

      ‘That would be lovely, but I believe Rolf thinks that it would be unsettling for Tonia—she has her studies…’

      ‘Oh, pooh,’ said Sappha inelegantly, ‘she can do some extra homework to make up for it—shall I talk to Doctor van Duyren and see if he will change his mind?’ She was on her way to the door and didn’t see the Baroness’s face which held an expression of mischief mixed with anticipation.

      When Sappha returned after a few minutes with a fricassée of chicken and an egg custard, and having placed these delicacies before her, poured a glass of wine and put it within her reach, her patient said: ‘What a great deal of work I am going to give you, Sappha.’

      ‘Indeed you won’t—in hospital I ran around all day except when I had to sit at a desk and fill in forms and answer the telephone.’

      The Baroness speared a morsel of chicken and asked: ‘Will you not be bored just with me to look after?’

      ‘Not in the least.’ Sappha spoke with a conviction which wasn’t quite genuine, for she had her private doubts on the subject; not only would her working day be far less exacting, her private life was going to be very different too. No more going out on her evenings off duty to the theatre or dinner and dancing or to the cinema. She tried to remember where she had seen the last cinema on the way to Dialach. Probably one had to go back to Inverness, or at least Achnasheen or Garve. Her speculations were brought to an abrupt end by the realisation that even if she were in London there would have been no theatres or cinema or dinners—not with Andrew, at any rate. She said rather abruptly: ‘I’ll fetch your coffee,’ and when she got back her patient had finished her supper and was lying back against her pillows, deep in thought, she roused herself, however, to say pensively: ‘Of course, you’ll have our Gloria—she’s about your age. Such a pretty girl—I expect you know that she’s engaged to Hamish—a dear boy, your uncle thinks very highly of him.’ She watched Sappha pour the coffee and then obediently swallowed the pills she was offered. ‘Loathsome things,’ she muttered crossly, and Sappha laughed and said encouragingly:

      ‘Yes, but think how much worse everything would be if you didn’t have them.’

      ‘Since no one has told me what they are or why I am taking them, how can I possibly agree with you?’ her patient wanted to know, and then on the same breath and with a suddenness which took Sappha by surprise: ‘Why are you not married or at least engaged? You’re a pretty girl, young—twenty-three or four?—intelligent and well dressed.’ And when Sappha didn’t reply: ‘Perhaps I shouldn’t have asked. Forgive me, I didn’t mean to be rude, I’m just a curious old woman.’

      Sappha managed a smile, ‘You’re not old, nor are you rude. I’ll tell you one day, but just for now I’d rather not talk about it.’

      She went downstairs, outwardly calm, but inwardly a little ruffled. She had, after all, come several hundred miles in order to be free from just such questions as the Baroness had asked.

      Mrs MacFee was in the sitting room, sitting before the fire, and Mr MacFee was standing in the window, engaged in conversation with Dr van Duyren. They paused as she went in, however, and came over to the fire.

      ‘You two have met, I understand,’ remarked Mr MacFee cheerfully. ‘Well, now you can sit down for a few minutes and get better acquainted.’

      ‘Just as though,’ thought Sappha crossly, ‘we can’t wait to tell each other how pleased we are to meet again.’ She sat down, accepted a glass of sherry and was instantly affronted by the manner in which Dr van Duyren walked as far away from her as possible, saying: ‘Oh, we shall have time enough for that, I imagine. I’m sure Nurse would prefer to rest a little.’

      She gave him an open-mouthed, indignant look while Mrs MacFee observed: ‘Why, of course—such a long journey—how thoughtless we are. You must be worn out, my dear, although I must say that in that uniform you look so fresh and efficient.’

      Sappha, murmuring politely, looked up and caught Dr van Duyren’s dark gaze bent upon her and it was obvious that he was laughing. She lifted her rather determined chin, nettled at his lack of interest coupled with his implication that she was a useless creature who needed a rest, or worse, that she looked as though she needed one. And calling her ‘Nurse’ too, she hadn’t been called that for eighteen months or more.

      Reading her thoughts with an uncanny accuracy, he said smoothly:

      ‘Forgive me—I have been guilty of demoting you. You were a Ward Sister, weren’t you?’ He looked apologetic, although she was sure he wasn’t, and when he continued: ‘I shouldn’t have any idea what to call Gloria,’ the remark somehow made things seem worse because it reminded Sappha that she was a stranger in a small community where apparently everyone knew everyone else. She wondered rather wistfully if they would accept her, and then, catching his eyes on her again, unsmiling now, decided that it didn’t matter in the least.

      She treated him with a cool politeness СКАЧАТЬ