Damsel In Green. Betty Neels
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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 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 delighted to see her. Cornelis 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, Cornelis. 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 Cornelis 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.
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