Rose balanced the tray, kicked the door open with one foot and said, “I hope I’ll come back here, Sister. I’m happy on this ward. I don’t suppose I’ll be gone for more than a few weeks at the outside.”
She had half an hour before her dinner time; she went to her room, got her case from the depths of the wardrobe and started to pack. Uniform and caps, tights and undies, dressing-gown and slippers and a cotton skirt and a handful of tops as well as a plain linen dress, sandals, make-up and a sponge bag and her rain coat. It was time by then to go to the office and collect her money; most of her month’s salary so at least she wouldn’t be penniless. She put the envelope in her pocket and went along to the canteen, collected her shepherd’s pie, potatoes and beans, and bore her plate to the table where her friends were already sitting.
Sadie greeted her excitedly. “I say, Rosie, I saw him again coming out of the office—he seemed in a hurry, but he waved. I wonder why he’s here.”
Rose speared some pie and added mustard. “Well,” she said slowly, “he’s here to borrow a nurse—a friend of his with an English wife; their small son has got a fractured skull, I don’t know any details, I suppose I’ll get those later…”
“Later? What on earth do you mean?” She had the attention of the whole table now.
“He’s borrowed me. Mind you, he didn’t want me particularly, only Miss Timms seemed to think I’d do. It’s for a week or two and I’m going at three o’clock this afternoon. Back to Amsterdam.”
“Rose, how absolutely marvellous. And you’ll see him every day.”
“I don’t know about that, Sadie, I’m going to look after a toddler, not accompany Mr Werdmer ter Sane to nightclubs.”
There was a little burst of laughter and then a spate of questions between gobbling their dinners with one eye on the clock. Milk pudding and strong tea brought their meal to an end and they got up to go back on duty. Only Sadie lingered. “Have fun, Rose, I wish it was me…”
Rose smiled at her friend. “I’m sure he wishes it was you, too, love. But Miss Timms didn’t give him a chance.”
Sadie brightened. “Keep reminding him about me,” she urged. “I know I’m going to marry and settle down but I wouldn’t mind one final fling.”
Rose finished her packing, showered and got into a cotton jersey shirtwaister; not high fashion, but very simple and suitable for a journey, then she went to phone her aunt.
Aunt Millicent took the news calmly, merely hoping that her little patient would make a good recovery and voicing the opinion that travel broadened the mind and would Rose be sure and keep her money in a safe place. “And let me know how you get on, my dear,” she finished. “We shall both be glad to hear from you; here’s Maggie.”
Maggie disliked the telephone; her voice, faintly apprehensive, came over the wire hesitantly. “Take care now,” she begged Rose, “and don’t eat too much of that nasty foreign food. Come back soon, love.”
Rose put the receiver back; they were dears, the pair of them, the moment she got back when she had days off she’d go and see them. She pondered the problem of ringing her stepmother and decided against it. There was little point in it, neither she nor her new husband took any interest in her, nor she in them.
It was getting on for three o’clock; she went along to the pantry and made herself a pot of tea and sat drinking it, checking over in her mind that she had everything she might need with her. She tidied the tea things away, went to her room and collected her case and shoulder bag and crossed the street to the hospital. She was early but the Rolls was there in the forecourt with Mr Werdmer ter Sane at the wheel. As soon as he saw her he came to meet her, took her case and put it in the boot and ushered her into the front seat.
“I don’t intend to stop on the way,” he informed her, his tone so friendly that she found herself agreeing at once. “We can get a sandwich and coffee on the hovercraft. You’ve had lunch?”
“Yes, thank you.” The shepherd’s pie and milk pudding still felt solid inside her. She settled herself without fuss and sat back in the comfortable seat; she had little intention of talking and remembering his remarks to Miss Timms, she imagined that he probably felt the same. And indeed, he had nothing to say until they were clear of the last suburbs and racing towards Dover.
“This case,” he began, “I’ll fill in a few details. The little chap’s name is Duert, he’s two and four months, a healthy specimen and being sensibly brought up. He’s lively and big for his age…his father’s a big man. He has a posterior fossa fracture and there is a good deal of swelling of the brain. I have operated to relieve this but there was a CSF leak and I’m worried that there might be a latent infection. He is in the children’s hospital in Amsterdam; his parents live in The Hague, but I can keep a closer eye on him if he’s on my ward. He’s in a side ward and you will be doing day duty, probably your free time will be curtailed for a few days; it will be made up to you later. His father is the director of a hospital in The Hague but he visits whenever he can spare a minute. His mother expects their second child within a few weeks; she’s a level-headed girl and realises that there is little that she can do at the moment. That is why she begged for an English nurse; she feels that she can phone you and talk about Duert. She visits him each evening with her husband and she is convinced that he will recover…”
“And you? What do you think?” asked Rose.
“He has a very good chance but it depends largely on good nursing now. You have nursed similar cases?”
“Oh, yes. Won’t there be a language difficulty?”
“No. At least not in the hospital, the night nurse is English-speaking and so is the ward sister. I doubt if you could hold a general conversation with them, but you will find that they understand medical terms. My registrar speaks excellent English. You will have a room in the nurses’ hostel and when Duert goes home I hope that you will be able to go with him until such time as Christina has got things organised.”
“Christina?”
“His mother. They have a splendid nanny, not a trained nurse though, but able to take over from you once Duert is out of danger.”
After that he was silent, leaving her to her own thoughts. She couldn’t help but reflect that if it had been Sadie sitting beside him, he might have found something to talk about. He was treating her pleasantly enough but with, she suspected, indifference. To be expected, she told herself philosophically, after all, she was a nurse, being driven to a case by the patient’s doctor; and the patient was all that they had in common.
She hadn’t been on a hovercraft before; she found it exhilarating. She ate the sandwiches and drank the coffee offered her and sat composedly while Mr Werdmer ter Sane studied the papers he drew from his brief case.
It was still light when they landed, and since the land was flat and the sky wide, she was able to see around her. She longed to ask what this was and that was, but her companion, beyond making sure that she was comfortable, had little to say. Only as they slowed to go through the lighted outskirts of Amsterdam, did he observe, “A very restful travelling companion—no girlish exclamations of delight, no endless questions about windmills and clogs, no demands to know when we should arrive. I must congratulate you, Nurse Comely.”
To which she made no reply at all.
Once through the suburbs, the city took on the enchantment she had remembered from her brief visit. The sky was clear and starlit, silhouetting the gabled houses against the deep blue above, and once they were away from the main streets, there were