The Awakened Heart. Betty Neels

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      ‘Do I detect a coolness? What have I done? I could feel you seething for the last hour.’

      ‘Kissing me like that,’ said Sophie peevishly. ‘Whatever next?’ Before she could elaborate he said smoothly,

      ‘But we are friends, are we not, Sophie? Besides, you looked pleased to see me.’

      A truthful girl, she had to admit to that.

      ‘There you are, then,’ said the professor and eased a large well shod foot down so that the Bentley sped through the lanes and presently on to the main road.

      ‘When do you have nights off?’ he wanted to know.

      ‘Oh, not until Tuesday and Wednesday of next week…’

      ‘I’ll take you out some time.’

      ‘That would be very nice,’ said Sophie cautiously, ‘but don’t you have to go back to Holland?’

      ‘Not until the middle of next week. Let us make hay while the sun shines.’

      ‘Your English is very good.’

      ‘So it should be. I had—we all had—an English dragon for a nanny.’

      ‘You have brothers and sisters?’

      ‘Two brothers, five sisters.’ He sent the Bentley smoothly round a slow-moving Ford driven by a man in a cloth cap. ‘I am the eldest.’

      ‘Like me,’ said Sophie. ‘What I mean is, like I.’

      ‘We have much in common,’ observed the professor. ‘What a pity that I have to operate in the morning; we might have had lunch together.’

      Sophie felt regret but she said nothing. The professor, she felt, was taking over far too rapidly; they hardly knew each other. She almost jumped out of her seat when he said placidly, ‘We have got to get to know each other as quickly as possible.’

      She said faintly, ‘Oh, do we? Why?’

      He didn’t answer that but made some trivial remark about their surroundings. He was sometimes a tiresome man, reflected Sophie.

      When they arrived at her lodgings he carried Mabel’s basket up to her room under the interested eye of Miss Phipps, but he didn’t go into it. His goodbye was casually friendly and he said nothing about seeing her again. She worried about that as she got ready for bed, but in the chilly light of morning common sense prevailed. He was just being polite, uttering one of those meaningless remarks which weren’t supposed to be taken seriously.

      She spent the morning cleaning her room, washing her smalls and buying her household necessities from the corner shop at the end of the street. In the afternoon she washed her hair and did her nails, turned up the gas fire until the room was really warm, made a pot of tea, and sat with Mabel on her lap, reading a novel one of her friends had lent her; but after the first few pages she decided that it was boring her and turned to her own thoughts instead. They didn’t bore her at all, for they were of the professor, only brought to an end when she dozed off for a while. Then it was time to get ready to go on duty, give Mabel a final hug and walk the short distance to St Agnes’s. It was a horrid evening, damp, dark and chilly, and she hoped as she entered the hospital doors that it would be a quiet night.

      It was a busy one; the day sister handed over thankfully, leaving two patients to be admitted and a short line of damp and depressed people with septic fingers, sprained ankles and minor cuts to be dealt with. Sophie saw with satisfaction that she had Staff Nurse Pitt to support her and three students, two of them quite senior, the third a rather timid-looking girl. She’ll faint if we get anything really nasty in, thought Sophie, and handed her over to the care of Jean Pitt, who was a motherly soul with a vast patience. She did a swift round of the patients then, making sure that there was nothing that the casualty officer couldn’t handle without the need of X-rays or further help. And, the row of small injuries dealt with and Tim Bailey, on duty for the first time, soothed with coffee and left in the office to write up his notes, she sent the nurses in turn to the little kitchen beside the office to have their own coffee. It was early yet and for the moment the place was empty.

      Not for long, though; the real work of the night began then with the first of the ambulances; a street accident, a car crash, a small child fallen from an open window—they followed each other in quick succession. It was after two o’clock in the morning when Sophie paused long enough to gobble a sandwich and swallow a mug of coffee. Going to the midnight meal had been out of the question; she had been right about the most junior of the students, who had fainted as they cut the clothes off an elderly woman who had been mugged; she had been beaten and kicked and slashed with a knife, and Sophie, even though she saw such sights frequently, was full of sympathy for the girl; she had been put in one of the empty cubicles with a mug of tea and told to stay there until she felt better, but it had made one pair of hands less…

      She went off duty in a blur of tiredness, ate her breakfast without knowing what she was eating, and took herself off to her flatlet, and even Miss Phipps refrained from gossiping, but allowed her to mount the stairs in peace. Once there, it took no time at all to see to Mabel, have her bath and fall into bed.

      That night set the pattern for her week. Usually there was a comparatively quiet night from time to time, but each night seemed busier than the last, and at the weekend, always worse than the weekdays, there was no respite, and even with the addition of a young male nurse to take over when one of the student nurses had nights off it was still back-breaking work. On Monday night, after a long session with a cardiac failure, Tim Bailey observed tiredly, ‘I don’t know how you stick it, Sophie, night after night…’

      ‘I do sometimes wonder myself. But I’ve nights off—only two, though, because Ida isn’t well again.’

      ‘You’ll go home?’

      She nodded tiredly. ‘It will be heaven, sleep and eat and then sleep and eat. What about you?’

      ‘Two more nights, a couple of days off and back to day duty.’ He put down his mug. ‘And there’s the ambulance again…’

      Sophie ate her breakfast in a dream, but a happy one; she would go home just as soon as she could throw a few things into a bag and get Mabel into her basket. Lunch—eaten in the warmth of the kitchen—and then bed until suppertime and then bed again. She went out to the entrance in a happy daze, straight into the professor’s waistcoat.

      ‘You’re still here?’ she asked him owlishly. ‘I thought you’d gone.’

      ‘No, no.’ He urged her into the Bentley. ‘I’ll drive you home, but first to your room.’

      She was too tired to argue; ten minutes later she was in her flatlet, bundling things into her overnight bag, showering and dressing, not bothering with her face or hair, and then hurrying down to the door again in case he had changed his mind and gone. Her beautiful, anxious face, bereft of make-up, had never looked lovelier. The professor schooled his handsome features into placid friendliness, stowed her into the car, settled Mabel on the back seat, and drove away, not forgetting to wave in a civil manner to Miss Phipps.

      Sophie tossed her mane of hair, tied with a bit of ribbon, over her shoulder. ‘You’re very kind,’ she muttered. ‘I hope I’m not taking you out of your way.’ She closed her eyes and slept peacefully for half an hour and woke refreshed to find that they СКАЧАТЬ