Betty Neels - Damsel In Green.txt Page 4
could see the man on the stool. The small face lighted up.
"Cousin Julius! I knew you'd come!" She started to smile and then, because
her scratched face was sore and stiff, began to cry instead.
Georgina held her close, murmuring comfort, while the man sat impassive,
showing no impatience. In a minute or two, Georgina produced a hanky to mop
the large blue eyes and said Firmly:
"Hush now! If we tell you what has to be done to make your head better, will
you be a brave girl while it's done?"
She didn't wait for an answer but waited for Professor Eyffert to explain.
He said gently, "You've cut your head, Beatrix, and I'm stitching the cuts
together again. I shall have to prick you once or twice and we don't mind if
you want to cry; only stay still on Nurse's lap."
She was sleepy again. She murmured, "Yes, Cousin Julius," and made no demur
when he picked up the syringe again. He had almost finished when she said:
"I know you're a nurse, but what's your name?"
"Georgina," said Georgina.
The child repeated it.
"That's a nice name. Does everyone call you that?"
"Well, no, not always."
"What?" the small voice was persistent.
"Actually," said Georgina, "I get called George." She felt faintly
embarrassed.
"I shall call you George. That is, if you don't mind? I like you."
Georgina was aware that the Professor had finished his handiwork and was just
sitting on the stool, listening. She looked up and caught his eye and
frowned in a repressive fashion at him because she found his presence
unsettling. She said, "Thank you, Beatrix. I like you too," then laid the
child gently back on to the couch, made quick work of spraying each small cut
with Nebecutane and then said to no one in particular:
"I think I shall be needed to take the small boy..."
"Comelis," said a small voice from the pillow.
"He's my brother."
"Cornelis," repeated Georgina obediently, 'to X-Ray. " She stood up and
looked fleetingly at the man sitting so quietly.
"Shall I find a nurse to sit with Beatrix, or will you...?"
"Stay? Yes, of course. But please ask Mr. Sawbridge if he would spare a
moment."
She went down the row of cubicles to where the little boy lay, and passed the
young man on the way. He was sitting on one of the stiff wooden chairs,
staring ahead of him, but he smiled fleetingly as she halted before him.
"All right?" she enquired.
"I'll see to you just as soon as I can--it won't be long now.
Your--er-cousin is in the cubicle with the little girl if you like.."
He interrupted quite fiercely, "Thank you, Nurse--if my cousin wants me,
he'll send for me."
She blinked at this; it would have been nice if she could have spared the
time to learn a little more about the Professor. Instead, she made all haste
to where an impatient porter was waiting to go to X-Ray.
Ten minutes later, while they were taking the lateral views, Mr. Sawbridge,
Bill Foster and the Professor came in. They went straight to the darkroom,
where she could hear them muttering together over the wet films until the
radiographer had finished his work and went to join them. They all came out
together very shortly, and Mr. Sawbridge said, "All right. Staff, take him
back. I shall want the theatre in twenty minutes, please. Ask Theatre
Sister to telephone me here as soon as possible. Oh, and put a
figure-of-eight on Mr. van den Berg Eyffert."
She did as she was bid, but before starting on the bandaging she rilled in a
case sheet for Comelis and got Bill Foster to write it up.
There was the little matter of the premed When she got back it was to find
that the runner had got down at last;
she left her to get the little boy ready for theatre and whisked into a
cubicle where she had bidden the young man sit.
"Now," she breathed, 'let's get you done. " She was rolling cotton wool into
a pad as she spoke and had eased him out of his shirt when a voice said
placidly, " Shall I get a pull on his shoulders for you. Staff Nurse? " He
didn't wait for her relieved murmur, but got behind his cousin and drew his
shoulders firmly back.
The young man went white.
"Revenge is sweet!" he muttered.
"I imagine you don't mean that, Karel," the big man spoke patiently with no
trace of ill-humour. He eased the injured shoulder up a little so that
Georgina could arrange the pad, and she heard her patient say, "Sorry,
Julius--I apologise."
No one spoke again until she had finished her bandage. She nodded with
satisfaction at the neatness of it and said briskly, "I should like
particulars of you all, please, but I'll get you a cup of tea first."
She peeped in at Beatrix as she passed the cubicle; the little girl was
asleep with Ned sitting beside her, writing up notes. He looked up and said
crossly, "There you are! Wherever do you go?"
"Round and about," said Georgina soothingly.
"Is this one to be warded too?"
He nodded.
"After X-ray, yes. Twenty-four hours' observation." He nodded towards the
benches, where a few of the hardier patients were still waiting.
"Better run through that lot, hadn't we?"
She nodded.
"All right. Nurse can make the tea, then stay with the boy until he goes to
theatre. I'll take this one to X-Ray; that'll leave her free to help you."
She went back again after she had primed the runner about the tea, and the
Professor, who was standing with his hands in his pockets, looked up and said
vaguely, "Ah, yes," and walked away, leaving her patient to answer her
questions. She began to fill in the cards and only just restrained herself
from speaking when he gave the address as being very near Debden, which was
only a few miles from her own home.
Dalmers Place, he had said; she dimly remembered cycling through the village
years ago. There had been several old Tudor houses in the neighbourhood--it
must be one of those. She had barely finished taking the particulars when
they came for the boy from theatre. She left him to drink his tea while she
went with the child, and wasn't in the least surprised to find the Professor,
gowned and capped, waiting by the anaesthetic trolley.
She left the patient in the care of the theatre staff and sped back to Cas.
The young man and Ned had joined forces over their tea. Ned said, "Ward the
little girl, will you, ducky, and I'll fix a taxi for Mr. Eyffert."
She came back to find Ned impatient to finish the diehards on the benches,
and the younger Mr.
Eyffert on the point of departure. He wished her goodbye, thanked her
charmingly and hoped to see her again, and it warmed her to think that he
really meant it. He explained, "I'd like to stay, but Julius told me to go
round to the hotel." Apparently Julius gave the orders and expected them
carried out. She shook his sound hand and said soothingly, "That's a fine
idea; a good night's sleep will you do you a world of good. I'm sure
Professor Eyffert will let you know how things go."
"Lord, yes. You see, the accident wasn't my fault,
but I am to blame.
I decided to come to town for the evening and the kids got into the back of
the car for a lark, so I brought them with me for the ride. "
He saw her astonished eyebrows.
"I know it sounds silly. It was.
Julius wiped the floor with me, and I deserved it. " He laughed suddenly.
"Poor chap, saddled with four children and me--but he's a wonderful guardian."
Georgina felt a peculiar lifting of her spirits.
"Guardian? I thought he was their father."
He laughed again, ruefully.
"He's not had much chance to think about getting married. Well, so long.
Staff Nurse. I shall see you again."
She agreed lightly, aware that it was unlikely-nearly all patients said that.
She didn't see the Professor again, either. He had called in on his way
back from theatre while she was at her meal and expressed regret at missing
her. She was surprised to find that she minded not seeing him again very
much, but she was far too busy to ponder the matter.
She called in to the children's unit on her way off duty in the morning.
Beatrix was sitting up in bed, eating her breakfast; rather battered but
apparently none the worse for her experience, and
"Round and about," said Georgina soothingly.
"Is this one to be warded too?"
He nodded.
"After X-ray, yes. Twenty-four hours' observation." He nodded towards the
benches, where a few of the hardier patients were still waiting.
"Better run through that lot, hadn't we?"
She nodded.
"All right. Nurse can make the tea, then stay with the boy until he goes to
theatre. I'll take this one to X-Ray; that'll leave her free to help you."
She went back again after she had primed the runner about the tea, and the
Professor, who was standing with his hands in his pockets, looked up and said
vaguely, "Ah, yes," and walked away, leaving her patient to answer her
questions. She began to fill in the cards and only just restrained herself
from speaking when he gave the address as being very near Debden, which was
only a few miles from her own home.
Dalmers Place, he had said; she dimly remembered cycling through the village
years ago. There had been several old Tudor houses in the neighbourhood--it
must be one of those. She had barely finished taking the particulars when
they came for the boy from theatre. She left him to drink his tea while she
went with the child, and wasn't in the least surprised to find the Professor,
gowned and capped, waiting by the anaesthetic trolley.
She left the patient in the care of the theatre staff and sped back to Cas.
The young man and Ned had joined forces over their tea. Ned said, "Ward the
little girl, will you, ducky, and I'll fix a taxi for Mr. Eyffert."
She came back to find Ned impatient to finish the diehards on the benches,
and the younger Mr. delighted to see her. Comelis had regained consciousness
an hour or two earlier and Georgina was invited to go along and see him. His
eyes were closed; his face looked small and white and lonely on the pillow,
as though it had nothing to do with the two legs in their Thomas's splints.
"They made a good job of them," commented the staff nurse who was with
Georgina.
"Sliding traction--they were both nice clean breaks. He'll be as good as new
in a few months' time."
He opened his eyes then, and asked, just as his sister had done, "Who are
you?"
"Hullo, Comelis. I saw you last night when you were brought here."
He nodded, staring at her.
"I like you. What's your name?"
"Georgina Rodman."
"Mine's Comelis van den Berg Eyffert. You may call me Cor if you like." He
added, "I shall call you George," and added again, very politely, "That's if
you don't mind."
There was no need to reply, for he had dropped off to sleep again.
George went back to Beatrix and reiterated her promise to see her again, then
ran downstairs to the dining-room, where she ate her meal rather dreamily
without contributing greatly to the conversation. She was wondering if she
would ever see Professor Eyffert again, and even if she did, whether he would
remember her. In the No Man's Land of muddled thoughts before she slept, she
remembered that the children had called him Julius. A nice name, she thought
sleepily, for a nice man. She slept.
CHAPTER THREE
she went every evening and every morning to see the two children. Cor didn't
talk a great deal, unless it was to ask endless questions as to how long it
would be before he could walk again, but Beatrix would sit up in bed, her
face wreathed in smiles, and chatter for as long as she was allowed. It was
from her that Georgina heard that her guardian had been every day to see
them, and that she was to go home the next day, although Cor would have to
stay.
"Will you come and see Cor when he's left behind?" she wanted to know.
"If he wants me to, of course I'll come," said Georgina.
"Julius said you would," said the little girl, 'but I just wanted to make
sure. "
Georgina let out a suddenly held breath. So he hadn't forgotten her!
She smiled, then frowned at her silliness in supposing that he remembered her
in any other context than that of nurse.
She said goodbye to the little girl with real regret; she would herself be
going on nights off in two days' time, but Comelis would still be there when
she returned. She explained this carefully to him, and was astonished at the
storm of protest it triggered off. Only by promising to write to him every
day was she able to calm him down to coherency.
"You'll have your guardian to see you," she observed in conciliating tones,
'and your other-- er--uncle. "
"He's not my uncle, he's my stepbrother," said the hurry little voice from
the bed.
She looked surprised.
"Oh, is he? I thought that he--they--were both your uncles."
"You'll listen carefully if I explain?"
"Of course." She willed herself to stay awake and interested, while she
longed above all things to get a meal and go to bed for an hour or two before
going home.
"Well, it's like this, you see. Cousin Julius's mother and Karel's mother
were sisters; only Cousin Julius's mother was almost grown up when Karel's
mother was still a little girl.. and she married Julius's father and he was
Dutch. Her sister-my mother--died when Beatrix was born. My father was
married before he married my mother-to Karel's mother ... ," he broke off.
"You do see, don't you?"
Georgina blinked.
"Yes, I think so. But you've all got the same name."
He eyed her with youthful scorn.
"Well, of course. My father and Cousin Julius's father were brothers."
She gathered woolly wits together.
"Two brothers married two sisters.
But why do you live in England if you are Dutch? "
"We live in Holland sometimes. My father lived in England for years;
his first wife was English. Cousin Julius says we're all half and half. So
are Franz and Dimphena. "
Georgina stifled a yawn.
"So stupid of me--I
feel I should know who they are."
"My brother and sister, of course; Franz is twelve and Dimphena is almost
grown-up--she's sixteen." He eyed her through the ordered tangle of cords
and pulleys fastened to the Balkan frame over his bed.
"Are you sleepy?--your eyes are closed."
She smiled, "I am, I'm afraid, but thank you for explaining so clearly about
your family--are they all as nice as you and Beatrix?"
"You've met Cousin Julius--he's super, absolutely wizard." He seemed to feel
that this was sufficient answer. She thought tiredly that it would be
interesting to know more about Julius, but as she wasn't likely to see him
again, there wasn't much point in pursuing that train of thought. She got
off the side of the bed, where she shouldn't have been sitting anyway, bade
him goodbye and went, very late, to the dining-room.
She got home at teatime. The fragrance of buttered crumpets filled the