Not Once But Twice. Бетти Нилс

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Not Once But Twice - Бетти Нилс


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bed, from taking a long look at her face, close up to the dressing table looking-glass and with a bright light showing it up. Her eyes were all right, but the rest of her was mediocre; she had a creamy unblemished skin, but she didn’t consider that that helped at all—and her teeth were good, but she couldn’t be expected to smile all the time. Her nose was unimportant and her mouth was wide and her hair, inclined to curl if left to itself, had been pulled back severely for so long now that it had grown like it. She peered anxiously at herself and wondered what Adam saw in her, if indeed he saw anything at all. But he had squeezed her fingers when they had shaken hands and smiled at her in a way to make her wonder if he liked her a little. Perhaps she would know tomorrow.

      ‘Well, what do you think of her?’ asked Adam as he drove the BMW too fast away from the dull streets towards the West End.

      His brother said slowly: ‘She seems a sensible young woman.’

      Adam laughed, ‘And plain with it, but the most gorgeous eyes—but perhaps you didn’t notice them. I bet she’s never been chatted up in her life—and she’s not so young either. Very rewarding material to work on.’

      Dr ter Brandt said evenly: ‘Do not make the mistake of thinking that she is like the rest of your girlfriends, Adam. She is unsophisticated, I grant you; she is also calm and matter-of-fact. Moreover, I have it from her brother that she is a very capable Ward Sister and thought highly of at the hospital. As you so ungallantly point out, she is neither very young nor pretty, and definitely not your cup of tea.’ He added, still without heat: ‘I think you should leave her alone.’

      ‘Oh, don’t worry, Duert, I haven’t got designs on the girl, but she doesn’t seem to have had much fun. A few dinners and an occasional evening out will do her the world of good. You’ll consider her for a job?’

      ‘Yes, I think I may. It rather depends on what experience she’s had in the Accident Room and surgery.’ The big man heaved his bulk out of the car as Adam stopped in front of Brown’s Hotel and then turned to ask: ‘Where are you taking her to lunch?’

      ‘Oh, a little Greek place in Soho—’ Adam gave its name and at the look of surprise on his brother’s face added testily: ‘Well, she’s not used to the Ritz or Claridge’s, she might feel awkward.’ He looked away from the pale blue eyes staring at him so steadily. ‘What time will you meet us?’

      ‘I will be there at half past two. I think I may go back in the evening so see that you’re punctual. What time do your afternoon lectures start?’

      ‘A quarter to three.’ Adam sounded sulky.

      ‘In that case you had better be outside this place by two-fifteen.’

      Dr ter Brandt turned on his heel and went into the hotel without looking back.

      Adam telephoned quite early the following morning so that Christina had plenty of time in which to decide what she should wear. None of her clothes were very exciting, although they were good and in excellent taste. It was cool and cloudy so that she felt justified in wearing the suit she had bought only a few weeks earlier. It was grey flannel with a pleated skirt and a neat little jacket and she had a silk blouse in a pale silvery grey to go with it. She dressed with care, made sure that George Henry’s lunch was ready for him, and left the house. Adam had said he couldn’t fetch her, so she took a bus to Oxford Street and then walked the rest of the way through the crowded Soho streets.

      The restaurant was small and faintly shabby as to paint, but it had tubs of flowers each side of the door and the net curtains at the windows were a pristine white. She was aware of a vague disappointment and the thought shot through her head that she need not have put on her new suit; she felt overdressed, what with the silk blouse and the patent leather shoes and handbag, when as far as she could see every other girl in sight was wearing jeans or some long flowing garment with a lot of bracelets.

      But she forgot all that as Adam crossed the pavement to meet her and took her arm. ‘What a punctual girl!’ he greeted her. ‘I was afraid you might be late, girls so often are—and I have to be gone again by a quarter past two.’ He saw the look of doubt on her face and added: ‘Oh, it’s all right, Duert will be here to collect you and put you through your paces.’

      They had gone inside and been given a little table at the back of the little restaurant, and when Christina put her hands on the table, Adam had covered them with his own so that all the questions she was going to ask him flew out of her head. All the same, she didn’t allow herself to get carried away, although her heart was thundering in her ears. After a moment she gently withdrew her hands and looked around her. The place was a lot nicer inside than it was outside, she decided, and the waiter who served them was quick and attentive. She chose a fish salad and a fresh fruit salad and drank the wine she was offered without knowing what it was.

      Adam didn’t talk about the possibility of her getting a job, only discussed in a charming if vague fashion the various places he intended to take her to once she was in Holland. She was too sensible to believe quite all he said, although she would have liked to, but even if they only did half the things he was enthusing about, the future seemed to her to be an enchantment not to be missed. The time slid away too quickly and it was Adam who looked at his watch and said: ‘Oh, lord—it’s time we went.’

      She put down her coffee cup in an unflurried manner. ‘Very well. I’m going to powder my nose.’

      ‘Must you?’ He sounded irritable, but at her look of surprise he said: ‘Sorry—I didn’t mean to snap, but don’t be too long, will you?’

      The wine had flushed her cheeks a little, but otherwise she looked as well groomed as when she had left home that morning. She poked at her hair, put on more lipstick and rejoined Adam.

      Dr Duert ter Brandt was standing on the edge of the pavement outside, his back to the restaurant. It was a very large back and very straight in its beautifully tailored jacket. He must have had eyes at the back of his head, for he turned round before they reached him, wished her a friendly good afternoon, said something in a soft voice to Adam and lifted his hand at a passing taxi. Once more barely given time to say more than goodbye to Adam, Christina found herself sitting back beside Dr ter Brandt.

      ‘I thought that we might walk in Green Park,’ his voice was quiet and slow after Adam’s quick, accented English. ‘You understand that there are a number of questions I must ask you? And if we are both satisfied I shall require references.’

      She said yes a little breathlessly; funny to think that only a few days ago she had been contemplating a dull future in a bedsitter. But she hadn’t got the job yet.

      It was pleasant in the park; they strolled through its comparative peace while the doctor asked questions. A great many questions, thought Christina, answering them in her sensible manner, giving him facts and taking care not to boast or pretend about anything.

      ‘And surgery?’ he wanted to know.

      ‘Not for the last two years, I’m afraid. I had the Women’s Surgical Ward for two years before I got my present post, and before that I was in Casualty and the Accident Room, a year as Second Sister and previous to that about a year as a staff nurse.’

      ‘You like accident work?’

      ‘Yes, very much. I should have liked to have stayed on there, but I was advised that I should get all-round experience. I haven’t been at St Athud’s all the time, you know. I came to London when my parents died and took the job I have got now. Before then I was living near Yeovil. I worked at the hospital there, but I trained at Bart’s.’

      They had stopped to watch an old man feeding the birds and presently Dr ter Brandt said: ‘The post I have to offer you is that of Third Sister in the Accident Department at the Theofilus Hospital. We operate three shifts in the twenty-four hours, and you would be expected to work each shift in turn. You would have two days off each week, six weeks’ holiday in the year and for the first few months at least, attend classes in Dutch. You may live in the hospital if you wish or rent rooms or a flat close by.’ He mentioned a salary which, changed into English money, seemed generous.

      ‘But


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