Betty Neels - Damsel In Green.txt Page 5

  little house as she closed the front door behind her. She breathed it in and

  sighed contentedly. She had six days of freedom.

  It was incredible how the days flew by. On one of them, she coaxed Jim Bale

  to lend her the car and took Aunt Polly for a gentle drive, suppressing a

  great desire to go to Debden and look for Dalmers Place.

  Instead, she turned the car's nose in the direction of Elmdon, where

  Great-Aunt Polly had a friend. The two old ladies gossiped gently over their

  tea, and Georgina left them together and went for a stroll past the Tudor

  cottages with their carved barge boards and elaborate plaster bands, and went

  into the church and peered at Tudors perpetrated for ever on its brasses.

  They were very large families, depicted in graduated heights and according to

  age, on either side of their stiffly robed parents--the sight of them

  reminded her of Cor and Beatrix. She had written to Cor every day, as she

  had said she would, and rather to her surprise had received one or two highly

  coloured postcards from him, each one asking her when she would be returning.

  She went into the village shop on her way back, bought a postcard and wrote

  it then and there, and posted it in her turn. She would have liked to have

  sent one to Beatrix too, but the Professor might think that she was trying to

  curry favour. She was rather silent on the way home and when Aunt Polly

  asked if she was sorry to be going back in two days' time, she agreed

  hastily, knowing that that really wasn't the reason. She had been thinking

  about Professor Eyffert--indeed, she was forced to admit to herself that she

  had been thinking about him a great deal--a useless waste of time, she kept

  telling herself, at the same time making no attempt to check her thoughts.

  The following day it rained--a cold drizzle which depressed her usually

  cheerful spirits. She spent the morning pottering about the little house,

  and while her aunt took her after-lunch nap, went upstairs to put away the

  ironing. She had her head in the cupboard on the tiny landing, counting

  pillowcases, when she heard the front door knocker, and a moment later Mrs.

  Mogg opened the door. Georgina withdrew her head long enough from the

  cupboard to call:

  "If that's Mr. Payne, Moggy, would you ask him to let us have some more

  eggs--tomorrow if he can."

  She didn't wait for an answer, but fell to sorting the sheets, and it was

  quite some minutes later when Mrs. Mogg called to her from the hall below.

  "Miss Georgina, will you come down? You're wanted in the sitting-room."

  She ran down the stairs and opened the sitting- room door, went in and

  stopped short, saying foolishly:

  "Oh, it's you!" at the same time very aware of her hair hanging in a

  ponytail and her rather elderly slacks and sweater--the sweater was a deep

  orange, faded now, but still becoming; it made her eyes seem very bright and

  dark and emphasised the soft brown of her despised ponytail. She was

  positive that she looked as plain as a pikestaff, unconscious of the fact

  that she had never looked so pretty.

  Professor Eyffert had been sitting beside her aunt's chair, but he got up

  now, the low-ceilinged little room accentuating his height, so that she had

  her mouth open to warn him to stoop, then desisted when she saw that there

  were still several inches to spare.

  She said primly, "Good afternoon, sir," frowned heavily and went pink when

  his brows rose and his mouth twitched at its corners.

  "I was afraid that you might have forgotten me," he remarked mildly.

  "No, of course I haven't forgotten you. How could I when Cor quotes you at

  me night and morning?" She stopped, struck by a thought.

  "They're all right, aren't they? Beatrix and Cor?"

  "It is about Cor that I have come," he said slowly, and her heart checked its

  crazy pace. Of course the reason for his coming hadn't anything to do with

  her!

  "You must forgive me for calling like this, but I have a favour to ask of

  you."

  She thought she knew what it was then--that she should go back a day sooner

  because Cor wanted her.

  "If I can help in any way..." she began, and was interrupted by Aunt Polly.

  "Take Professor Eyffert into the dining-room, child, so that he can discuss

  whatever it is with you."

  "I should prefer to remain here if I may," he said decidedly.

  "You see, I imagine Miss Rodman will wish to tell you of my plans."

  "Sit down then, both of you," said Great-Aunt Polly.

  "I'm all agog."

  So was Georgina. She was trying to think what plans he could have which

  would include herself. She sat down in the little crinoline chair opposite

  her aunt and left the Professor to dispose his bulk in the sturdy old Windsor

  chair between them.

  "I propose to take Cor home." At his words Georgina opened her pretty mouth

  to protest, then closed it hastily under his amused look.

  "I quite agree. Miss Rodman. An awkward and difficult business, involving

  complicated transport, portable X-rays, fixing of a Balkan frame, nursing

  care...I should like you to undertake the nursing care."

  She blinked at him.

  "You don't mean that."

  "I seldom say things I don't mean," he countered placidly.

  "I have given the whole matter a great deal of consideration--Cor is eating

  his young heart out at the moment. We are a very united family." He gave

  her a quick glance.

  "I daresay Cor or Beatrix have already told you that they have no parents?"

  She nodded.

  "Oh, yes. I thought you were their father, so your cousin explained a

  little, and then Cor told me. I--I have a rough idea."

  He laughed.

  "Very rough, I should imagine. You'll come?"

  Georgina stared at him. He quite obviously expected her to say yes. He

  stared back at her with a self-confidence which wasn't quite arrogance. She

  would assert herself; it would be ridiculous to say yes in such a weak

  fashion. She swallowed-then said yes, and added, to justify her weak and

  instant acceptance, "But I shall need to know a great deal more about the

  whole thing."

  And he said in a tone of voice to make her cheeks burn and her pulses race,

  "Oh, my dear girl, I thought that you were going to refuse." He smiled

  briefly and brilliantly, and then, as though he wished to forget what he had

  said, went on in a businesslike way, "I will explain what I intend to do, and

  then you can ask as many questions as you wish." He turned to Aunt Polly.

  "We do not bore you, I hope. Miss Rodman?"

  "On the contrary, young man, I am diverted." She smiled and nodded to her

  niece, ignoring the look of horror on her face. Georgina hoped that the

  Professor had not noticed that he had been called 'young man' although she

  felt this to be extremely unlikely. She suspected that very little escaped

  those cool blue eyes. or, for that matter, those sharp ears.

  She folded her hands in her lap, looking, despite the slacks, very demure,

  emptied her head of the ridiculous but delightful notions which had been

  filling it, and said in a brisk voice, "Yes, sir," and was quelled when he

  said, "As
we are not in hospital. Miss Rodman, I feel that there is no need

  for you to call me " sir" with every other breath."

  Her cooling cheeks took fire again.

  "Just as you wish,... Professor."

  She thought for a moment that he was going to object to that too, but he let

  it pass and went on blandly:

  "It is now the eighth of November--I believe that you finish night duty on

  the eighteenth. Am I right?" He barely gave her time to nod.

  "You will have Cor as your sole care, you understand, but you will of course

  take reasonable time off each day as well as a completely free day each week."

  He stopped, and turned to look at her, gravely waiting for her to speak. It

  seemed ridiculous to mention it, but she said diffidently:

  "I'm a staff nurse in Casualty, and I hadn't intended to give in my notice."

  "Ah, a point I forgot to mention. I have not yet spoken to your Matron; I

  wished to see how you felt about my proposition before doing so, but I

  believe that I may have you on loan for a reasonable time--it has been done

  before. If you will leave that to me?"

  She went on doggedly, "And the surgeon? Will Cor be under Old Saw..

  Mr. Sawbridge? And shall I be responsible to him? "

  "Yes, most certainly you will. Old Sawbones-and do not scruple to call him

  by that name. Miss Rodman, for I have known him for many years and he has

  never been called anything else--has agreed to visit Cor as often as

  necessary, and will arrange for X-rays, special treatment and so forth."

  "I see. Very well. Professor--provided that Matron has no objection."

  "I see no reason why she should," he replied coolly.

  "Do you drive?"

  "We haven't a car, but I have a licence."

  "Good. There is a car you may care to use while you are with us."

  Aunt Polly spoke.

  "Splendid! Georgina, you'll be able to come home each week; it's only a few

  miles. How very pleasant that will be!" She caught Georgina's eye.

  "Perhaps you would ask Mrs. Mogg to bring in the tea, dear? You'll stay for

  a cup, I hope.

  Professor? "

  Georgina went to the kitchen, feeling somehow that she had been got at

  without exactly knowing how it had happened. She helped Mrs. Mogg carry in

  the tea things and arranged them on the small table by her aunt's chair, and

  would have taken a cup and saucer over to the Professor, but he forestalled

  her, and she found herself sitting in the crinoline chair again being waited

  upon by the Professor, who most certainly would not have been expected to

  lift a finger in hospital. She took a sandwich and caught his eye, and he

  smiled and said, "The boot is on the other foot, is it not. Miss Rodman--it

  makes a nice change." He spoke with a lazy good nature and his smile was so

  kind that she laughed.

  He proved to be an excellent companion. Georgina watched her aunt sparkle,

  exchanging a gentle repartee with her guest and enjoying every minute of it.

  He got up to go presently, and as he shook hands he said:

  "I do hope that we shall meet again. Miss Rodman," at which Aunt Polly

  smiled.

  She said without a trace of bitterness, "I'm always here," she gestured

  towards her sticks.

  "Come when you like, if you care to." She inclined her head.

  "Georgina will see you to the door, Professor."

  So Georgina found herself at the front door, standing beside him,

  contemplating with some awe the Silver Shadow drop head coupe in the lane

  outside. However, she had little time to do more than recognise it for what

  it was before he said briskly:

  "Well, goodbye. Miss Rodman." He shook hands in a no-nonsense fashion and

  added as an afterthought, "Just one thing. I shall require you to wear your

  uniform at the times while you are with us. Not of course when you go out in

  your free time."

  Georgina, who had forgotten about the slacks and sweater, was suddenly and

  uncomfortably aware of them again. With the fine impulsiveness for which she

  had received many a reprimand in hospital, she blurted out:

  "But I don't always look as scruffy as this!"

  He eyed her coolly.

  "Did I say that you looked scruffy?" he wanted to know.

  "I can assure you that my wishes on the matter have no bearing on your

  presenter--most sensible garments." He allowed his gaze to travel from top

  to toe of her person.

  "Charming, too," he murmured.

  She gaped at him. This from a man wearing tweeds, which, although not new,

  bore the hallmark of Savile Row! He was joking, of course. She said so.

  "Did I not say a short time ago, my dear girl, that I seldom say anything

  which I do not mean?"

  Georgina blushed.

  "Oh," she said faintly.

  "May I know why--I mean about the uniform?" She looked up at him, looming

  beside her in the early dusk; it was difficult to read the expression on his

  face, but his voice was decisive.

  "No, you may not," he said blandly.

  "Goodbye for the present."

  He went so quickly down the path that he would never have heard her reply,

  which was a good thing, for her voice had been an astonished squeak. At the

  gate he turned.

  "Beatrix and Cor send their love." The next minute he had got into the car

  and driven away.

  Back in the sitting-room. Aunt Polly put down her book.

  "A delightful young man," she said in positive tones.

  "While you were getting tea he told me something about himself." Georgina

  smiled. Aunt Polly had her own methods of extracting information--she could,

  when it pleased her, be a remorseless and relentless interrogator.

  "He's not married."

  Georgina rattled a tea cup in its saucer, and said "Oh," in what she hoped

  was a noncommittal voice.

  "But he intends to marry in the near future. I wonder who she is? He spends

  quite a lot of time in Holland--he has a home there too;

  perhaps she is a Dutch girl--after all, he is a Dutchman himself. "

  She settled her elegantly rimmed glasses on her small nose.

  "Will you pass me my knitting, please, dear?" She started on one of the

  complicated patterns she favoured--not because she liked them overly, but

  because they forced her to concentrate and saved her from other, sometimes

  unhappy thoughts.

  "Shall you like nursing the little boy?"

  she asked.

  Georgina had picked up the tray and was on her way to the door.

  "Oh, yes. Aunt. Of course I shall." She spoke quietly, aware that she was

  going to like being in the Professor's house very much indeed, although

  perhaps not for the right reasons.

  Georgina had been back on duty for several nights before she met Professor

  Eyffert again. She knew that he had been to the hospital each day because

  Cor told her when she paid her morning and evening visits, but the little boy

  said nothing about going home and she forbore from mentioning it. When they

  did meet, it wasn't quite half past seven in the morning. She had had a busy

  night and was clearing the last of the trolleys ready for the day nurses.

  She was tired, and because she was tired, she was cold. Her hair hung

  wispily where it had escaped the pins she
had had no time to deal with;

  her nose shone with chill and lack of powder. As she saw him come into

  Casualty, she thought peevishly that they always met when she was looking at

  her worst. She scowled and said, "Good morning, sir' without warmth, and

  felt, unreasonably, even more peevish when he smiled sympathetically and

  said, " Good morning. Staff Nurse. You've had a busy night. Do you never

  have help? "

  She was scrubbing instruments at the sink.

  "Yes, but we had an overdose in at midnight and another at five. They make a

  lot of extra work on the wards--the runner hasn't had a minute." She rinsed

  the tube and funnel of the wash-out apparatus and cast him a look full of

  curiosity, and he said to disconcert her, "Yes, I'm very early, am I not?

  But the first overdose isn't responding as she ought--Dr. Woodrow telephoned

  me an hour or so ago--I think she is out of the wood now."

  The door opened and the day nurses trooped in, with Gregg in the rear, urging

  them on. They looked curiously at the Professor, said good morning politely