An Apple from Eve. Бетти Нилс

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An Apple from Eve - Бетти Нилс


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her sherry and earned a cold glance from her host, which emboldened her to grin at him and then turn her back. Dr Bell looked worried for a moment and then plunged into gentle conversation until she interrupted him with: ‘I’m dreadfully sorry, that was awful of me—I hope she didn’t see me, only I thought…’

      She told him about the little icicles and went on feverishly: ‘I’m talking nonsense—I shouldn’t have come. I’ve not had anything to eat since midday and I thought it would be all right, but I can’t forget…it takes a little while, doesn’t it?’

      The old man took her hand. ‘My dear child, you were brave to come, your father would have been proud of you.’ He patted her hand. ‘He wouldn’t want you to grieve, you know, he wasn’t that kind of man.’

      ‘No, I know, and I won’t, only being here…’ She glanced round the familiar room and caught the doctor’s eye fastened upon her. He said something to his fiancée and came across the room before Euphemia could move, and Dr Bell said at once: ‘Euphemia hasn’t had anything to eat all day.’

      Dr van Diederijk looked down his nose at her. ‘That would explain it,’ he said suavely. ‘We will go to the kitchen and see what can be found.’

      Euphemia went red. ‘There’s no need—I was going in a few minutes…’

      ‘All the more reason to eat first.’ He had ushered her to the door and out into the hall while he was speaking and she was in the kitchen before she could think of an answer.

      Mrs Cross was standing at the table slicing ham, and she looked up and beamed at them both as they went in. ‘There ain’t no more of them canopies,’ she observed, ‘them waiters ‘as taken the lot, but there’s all them sausages.’ She went back to her slicing. ‘Nice ter see yer both together—both being owners of the ’ouse, like.’

      Euphemia picked up a sausage. ‘Dr van Diederijk rents this house, Mrs Cross. I still own it.’ She bit into the sausage with something of a snap and added as an afterthought: ‘No offence, Doctor.’

      ‘Trivialities do not offend me, Miss Blackstock. Pray eat all you wish. You will excuse me if I go back to my guests.’

      ‘Not only will I excuse you, Doctor, I don’t really mind you going in the least.’ Euphemia picked up another sausage.

      ‘What an abominable girl you are!’ The doctor spoke softly in a steely voice as he went away.

      ‘You didn’t ought ter, Miss Euphemia,’ protested Mrs Cross. “E might say ’e didn’t want the ’ouse any more, and then where are yer?’

      Euphemia selected a slice of ham, wrapped it round another sausage and gobbled it down. ‘He signed a contract for a year.’

      ‘Such a nice young man, too,’ said Mrs Cross.

      ‘He’s not young, and he’s certainly not nice.’ Euphemia wandered out of the kitchen, taking an apple from a bowl on the table as she went.

      She was sitting on the stairs munching it when the drawing room door opened and the doctor came out. He paused when he saw her, closed the door behind him and stood leaning against it, watching her.

      ‘Eve and the apple,’ he observed blandly.

      ‘My name is Euphemia.’ She nibbled at the core with splendid teeth.

      ‘I was employing a figure of speech.’

      ‘Oh, so who am I tempting?’

      He said silkily: ‘Not me, I do assure you, Euphemia. What an extraordinary name! Diana—my fiancée—would like to meet you.’

      She got to her feet, the apple core still in her hand, very conscious of her bad manners earlier on. She said formally: ‘That’s very kind of her. Is she in the drawing-room?’

      For answer he opened the door and she went past him. Diana Sibley was across the room, talking to Dr Bell, although her eyes were on the door. Half way there Euphemia remembered the apple core in her hand. She paused just long enough to hand it to the doctor before advancing, smiling nicely, to meet her.

      CHAPTER THREE

      DIANA SIBLEY had switched on her most charming smile, which was a pity, since it was quite wasted on Euphemia. ‘Miss Blackstock, I’ve been dying to meet you—you’re our guardian angel, you know, letting us have this darling house. I simply couldn’t face the idea of living in an hotel every time Tane had to come to London.’ She added carelessly, ‘My parents’ place is in Hertfordshire—there’s room enough for us both to live there while we’re in England, but Tane doesn’t want to do that.’ She gave him an arch look. ‘He doesn’t like the idea of sharing me with anyone, do you, darling?’

      Euphemia was pleased to see that the doctor looked extremely uncomfortable and, behind his bland face, angry. She had no doubt that he was clenching his teeth in an effort not to tell his beloved to hush up. She said sweetly: ‘I’m so glad you like the house. I’m sure you would rather be here with the doctor than with your family.’

      Diana put a thin useless-looking hand on the doctor’s sleeve. ‘Not until we’re married.’ She made big eyes at them in turn. Dr van Diederijk richly deserved her, thought Euphemia as Diana went on: ‘Tane wasn’t going to ask you, but I insisted, and I so hoped you’d come. You’re awfully brave, in your place I couldn’t have done it.’ She shuddered and gave Euphemia another smile, although her eyes were like dark pebbles and just as hard. ‘I expect you’re very strong, you must be to be a nurse.’ She studied Euphemia smilingly with her head on one side. ‘Anyone over eight stone seems huge to me,’ she confided.

      Euphemia’s tawny eyes travelled slowly down Diana’s spare frame. ‘Not really,’ she said cheerfully, ‘just normal.’ She saw the girl’s mouth tighten with annoyance and added: ‘So nice to have met you—and now I must just say hello to some of the people I know here.’ She put out a hand. ‘Thank you for asking me—I must go very soon, I’m on duty early in the morning.’ She included the doctor in her smile, dropped a kiss on Dr Bell’s cheek and crossed the room to join some friends. Diana, left alone with her fiancé, watched her, instantly surrounded by welcoming cries. ‘Anyone would think she owned the place,’ she declared thinly.

      The doctor gave her a thoughtful look. ‘But, my dear, she does,’ he pointed out.

      Euphemia left a few minutes later, seen politely to the door by her host. She uttered the usual banalities about a pleasant evening, how nice to meet his fiancée and she did hope that he would be happy there; she altered that to ‘you both’ in the same breath, then because he didn’t say anything and she felt awkward standing there in the open doorway being stared at in such silence she went on: ‘I expect you’re looking for a house to suit you both for—later on when you’re married…’

      ‘You are free to expect anything you wish, Euphemia.’

      She went past him and started down the drive to the gate, neatly mended now, she noticed. A great many things she would like to say to him were jostling for a place on her tongue, but she held it prudently. After all, she needed the rent money and the likelihood of seeing him again was remote.

      Not remote at all. Sir Richard, doing his morning round on the following morning, brought Dr van Diederijk with him. The two gentlemen trod with deliberation into the ward, followed by the Medical Registrar, the House Physician, the Social Worker, a physiotherapist and a clutch of selfconscious students, and Euphemia, advancing to meet them with her staff nurse and one of the lesser fry clutching the patients’ notes, came to a rather abrupt halt at the sight of him.

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