Pineapple Girl. Betty Neels
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He thrust the chart at Eloise. ‘It was only an EUA, after all…not even surgery.’
Cycling home in the morning, Eloise reflected that the night had been awful—thank heaven there was only one more to go before her nights off.
And that night was so madly busy that she had no time for her own thoughts at all; with operation cases to settle, two severe accident cases to admit, an emergency case for the theatre at two o’clock in the morning, and Mrs Fellows, due home in the morning, but still complaining loudly, adding her quota to the night’s bedlam. Eloise, too tired to know whether she was coming or going, ate her breakfast in a trance, got herself home and fell into her bed after a quick cup of tea and a hot bath.
She had six nights off due to her and it was on the third of these that Mrs Bennett’s visitors came. Her sister-in-law arrived first; a tall, commanding woman with a penetrating voice and cold good looks, she pecked at their cheeks, told them that they both looked tired, chose a chair with deliberation and loosened the expensive furs she was wearing. Watching her aunt, Eloise found herself wondering how she had come to marry her father’s elder brother in the first place, although perhaps it wasn’t so strange, as he had been successful; making money as easily as a good cook makes pastry, quite unlike her own father, content to work in his book shop, specializing in rare books and engravings. That he had loved herself and her mother she had no doubt, but books were his real love and he had lived largely in a world of his own far removed from the more mundane life around him. Which had probably accounted for the fact that when he died very suddenly from a coronary, it was discovered that his insurances had lapsed for a number of years and that he had mortgaged the shop and house in order to find the money to buy the rare books he had coveted. As a consequence he had left his wife and daughter very ill provided for and although neither of them had blamed him in the slightest for this, his sister-in-law had never ceased, on every possible occasion, to mention his improvidence.
The lady made just such a remark now, once she had settled herself, and went on in her bossy way: ‘You need a change, both of you, and I have the solution.’
She held up a beringed hand to stop any questioning, although neither of her listeners had had any intention of speaking; they had long ago decided that the only way to treat their overbearing relation was to give every appearance of attention and then go their own way, but the lady went on, just as though she had received a gratifying murmur of admiration: ‘But I shall say no more until Deborah Pringle arrives.’ She frowned and glanced at her watch. ‘She should be here now.’
As though Mrs Pringle had been given her cue, the doorbell rang and Eloise went to answer it. She had met Mrs Pringle a number of times and liked her; she was a small bustling creature with a kindly nature which never sought to boss others around and Eloise had often wondered how she had come to be a friend of her aunt’s. She came in now, exclaiming cheerfully, ‘I’m a little late, but the taxi couldn’t find you and I’m hopeless at telling people how to get to places.’ She gave Eloise a kiss and added warmly: ‘Your lovely hair—how I do envy you, my dear. How’s your mother?’
Eloise said dryly: ‘Aunt says she needs a holiday…’
‘And I daresay she does but she’s not one to waste time pining for something—not if I know her, and I should do after all these years.’ She smiled widely and whispered: ‘What’s the betting that I’m wearing the wrong kind of hat?’
She was greeted with pleasure by Mrs Bennett and more austerely by that lady’s sister-in-law, who, sure enough, told her at once: ‘That’s not the hat for you, Deborah—far too young…’
‘But I feel young.’ Mrs Pringle sat down between her two friends and looked at them in turn, rather like a referee might look at two boxers before a fight. She said cheerfully: ‘Well, Mary, it’s delightful to see you again—a pity I don’t come to England more often and when I do, it’s almost impossible to get away; Cor likes me to be with him all the time.’
‘He’s not with you this time?’ asked Mrs Bennett.
‘He went back last week—simply had to…’ And when her friend cast her an inquiring look: ‘I wasn’t allowed to travel; I came over here for an operation, nothing vital, but I have to stay for a check-up before I go home.’ She changed the conversation then, and it wasn’t until Eloise had fetched the tea and they had finished the sandwiches and home made cake that she reverted to herself.
‘I’ve a favour to ask,’ she began a shade diffidently. ‘You see, I met Maggie a short while ago,’ she paused to smile at that forbidding lady, ‘and I mentioned that I was going back home in a short time and wanted to take a nurse with me, just for a little while, you know, and so she telephoned you, Mary, meaning to ask if Eloise was free, and you told her that she had a holiday in a couple of weeks. Now that would be simply splendid if only she would agree to come with me.’ She flashed a smile at Eloise. ‘Nothing much to do, just a small dressing and my temperature and so on, and I promise her that she shall have plenty of time to do what she likes.’
Eloise found her astonished voice. ‘How kind of you to think of me,’ she exclaimed, ‘but you see I can’t leave Mother alone…’
‘Ah,’ Mrs Pringle beamed in mild triumph, ‘it just so happens in the most extraordinary way imaginable that I met Mrs Plunkett last week—remember her at Eddlescombe? Well, she was asking about you, Mary, and said how much she would like to see you again and if only you were on your own she would love to have you to stay—you know she has only that dear little cottage with two bedrooms?’ She paused and looked around her. Mrs Bennett was staring at her with rapt attention, Eloise’s nice, ordinary face betrayed her suspicion that the whole thing was a put up job and her aunt looked vaguely irritated as she always did when someone else was doing the talking.
‘I know it sounds too good to be true,’ declared Mrs Pringle with a glance at Eloise, ‘but that’s exactly what happened, and I thought how marvellous it would be if Eloise were to come with me and you, Mary, could go and stay with Beryl Plunkett. What do you say?’
Eloise darted a quick look at the longing on her mother’s face. ‘I think it’s a super idea, Mrs Pringle; I’d love to look after you, and if Mother’s with Mrs Plunkett I should be quite happy about going. What do you think, Mother?’
Mrs Bennett smiled widely at no one in particular. ‘Well, darling, it does sound delightful, but you’re sure you…you’ll have a lovely time… Eddlescombe will be heavenly at this time of year…’
Mrs Pringle smiled too. ‘Then that’s settled. Eloise, when does your holiday start? I planned to go down to say goodbye to Beryl. You could drive down with me, Mary, and I’ll come back and collect Eloise on the following day.’
Mrs Bennett looked overwhelmed. ‘You’re really going down to Eddlescombe? It would be lovely to drive down with you—if Eloise could manage for a couple of days?’
‘Easily, darling.’ Eloise smiled at her mother. She hadn’t seen that look on her face for a long time; even if she hadn’t wanted to go with Mrs Pringle, she would have declared her delight at the prospect—and she did want to go, not only because it would give her mother the chance of a holiday; it would be fun to go somewhere different. Which reminded her. ‘You know, I’m not at all sure where you live,’ she told Mrs Pringle.
‘Holland, my dear. We’ve lived all over the world, you know, but now Cor is permanently based there, and he being a Dutchman finds that very satisfactory—so do I; we live in Groningen, in the north and within easy reach of the city. There’s a car if you care to drive it, and the country around us is delightful—quiet but not isolated. Cor is away a good deal, but he’s always home at weekends and we have friends—I think you might like it.’ She caught the questioning look in Eloise’s eye and added: ‘I’ll tell you about myself later; one’s little illnesses are always so boring for other people.’
She turned back to Mrs Bennett. ‘That’s settled, then, and how very pleased I am. Shall I collect you in—two weeks, is it? We’ll fix the exact day later—and Eloise will be free the day after you