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able…’

      ‘Yes, yes, I know, but I have no time in which to argue about it. Kindly do as I ask, Mintie.’

      If he had called her Miss Pomfrey in his usually coolly civil way, she would have persisted in arguing, but he had called her Mintie, in a voice kind enough to dispel any wish to argue with him. Besides, she loved him, and when you love someone, she had discovered, you wish to do everything to please them.

      She said, ‘Very well, doctor,’ and added politely, ‘Good evening.’

      She went off to the office, buoyed up by the knowledge that if Marcus had said that everything was arranged, then that would be so and she had no need to worry. She knocked and, bidden to enter, received a bracing but kind lecture, a recommendation to find work more suited to her capabilities and permission to leave.

      ‘Be sure and hand in your uniform and notify the warden. There is no need for you to see Sister Spicer.’ She was offered a hand. ‘I have no doubt that you will find exactly what you want, Nurse.’

      So Araminta shook hands and got herself out of the office, leaving her superior thoughtful. Really, Dr van der Breugh had gone to great lengths to arrange the girl’s departure. After all, he wasn’t responsible for her, whatever he said. The Principal Nursing Officer wouldn’t have allowed her arm to be twisted by anyone else but him; she liked him and respected him and so did everyone else at the hospital. All the same, he must be interested—such a plain little thing, too.

      Araminta went back to the sitting room and half a dozen pairs of eyes fastened on her as she went in.

      ‘Well?’ asked Molly. ‘Who was it? What’s happened? Was Sister Spicer there?’

      Araminta shook her head. ‘No, just me. I’m leaving in the morning…’

      ‘But you can’t. I mean, you have to give notice that you want to, and reasons.’

      Araminta decided to explain. ‘Well, I didn’t come with the rest of you because I was asked to take on a job in an emergency. I did tell you that. But the thing is the person I worked for was Dr van der Breugh—with his nephews—and I went to look after them provided he would do his best to get me a place here as soon as possible. Well, he did, but it hasn’t worked out, so now he has arranged for me to leave. The Principal Nursing Officer was very nice about it.’

      There was a chorus of voices. ‘What will you do? Try another hospital? Find another job?’

      ‘Go home.’

      Molly said, ‘It’s good of Dr van der Breugh to help you. I can quite see that he feels responsible—I mean, you obliged him in the first place, didn’t you?’

      ‘Yes. And he did warn me that he didn’t think I’d be any good at nursing. Only I’d set my heart on it. I’ll start again, but not just yet.’

      ‘If you’re going in the morning you’ll have to pack and sort out your uniform. We’ll give you a hand.’

      So several of them went to Araminta’s room and helped her to pack. She went in search of the warden and handed in her uniform, taking no heed of the lecture she was given by that lady, and presently they all went down to supper and then to make tea and talk about it, so that Araminta had no time at all to think or make plans. Which was a good thing, for her head was in a fine muddle. Tomorrow, she told herself, she would sit down quietly and think things out. Quite what she meant by that she didn’t know.

      She woke very early, her head full of her meeting with the doctor. It was wonderful that he had come into her life once more—surely for the last time. And since he had gone to so much trouble she would take this job at Eastbourne and stay there for as long as they would have her. It was work she could do, she would have some money, she could go home in the holidays and she would take care never to see Marcus again. That shouldn’t be difficult, for he had never shown a wish to see more of her. She got up, and dressed, then said goodbye to her friends, and promptly at ten o’clock went down to the entrance with her case. She hadn’t been particularly happy at the hospital but all the same she felt regret at leaving it.

      The doctor came to meet her, took her case and put it in the boot, and settled her beside him in the car. He had wished her good morning, taken a look at her face and then decided to say nothing more for the moment. Mintie wasn’t a girl to cry easily, he was sure, but he suspected that there were plenty more tears from where the last outburst had come, and it would only need a wrong word to start them off.

      He drove out of the forecourt into the morning traffic.

      ‘We will go home and have coffee, for Briskett wants to bid you goodbye. You have an appointment to see Mr Gardiner at three o’clock this afternoon. He will be at the Red Lion in Henley. Ask for him at Reception.’

      He didn’t ask her if she had changed her mind, and he had nothing further to say until he stopped in front of his house.

      Briskett had the door open before they reached it, delighted to see her again.

      ‘There’s coffee in the small sitting room,’ said Briskett, ‘and I’ll have your coat, Miss Pomfrey.’

      They sat opposite each other by the fire, drinking Briskett’s delicious coffee and eating his little vanilla biscuits, and the doctor kept up an undemanding conversation: the boys were fine, he had seen them on the previous weekend, they were all going over to Friesland for Christmas. ‘They sent their love—they miss you, Mintie.’

      He didn’t add that he missed her, too. He must go slowly, allow her to find her feet, prove to herself that she could make a success of a job. He had admitted to himself that she had become the one thing that really mattered to him, that he loved her. He had waited a long time to find a woman to love, and now that he had he was willing to wait for her to feel the same way, something which might take time…

      He drove her to Hambledon later, and once more found the house empty save for a delighted Cherub. There was another note, too, and, unlike Briskett, the doctor coolly took it from Araminta’s hand when she had read it.

      The cousin had gone to Kingston to shop and would be back after tea. He put the note back, ignoring her indignant look, and glanced around him. Briskett had given a faithful description of the house: pleasant, old-fashioned solid furniture and lacking a welcome.

      ‘It’s a good thing, really,’ said Araminta. ‘I’ve an awful lot to do, especially if I get this job and they want me as soon as possible.’

      He rightly took this as a strong hint that he should go. He would have liked to have taken her somewhere for a meal but she would have refused. When she thanked him for the lift and his help in getting her another job, he made a noncommittal reply, evincing no wish to see her again, but wishing her a happy future. And in a month or two he would contrive to see her again…

      Araminta, wishing him goodbye and not knowing that, felt as though her heart would break—hearts never did, of course, but it was no longer a meaningless nonsense.

      But there was little time to indulge in unhappiness. In three hours’ time she would have to be at the Red Lion in Henley, and in the meantime there was a lot to do.

      There had been no time to have second thoughts; that evening, washing and ironing, sorting out what clothes she would take with her while she listened to her cousin’s chatter, Araminta wondered if she had been too hasty.

      Mr Gardiner had been no time-waster. He was a man of early middle age, quiet and taciturn, asking her sensible questions and expecting sensible answers. His need for an assistant matron was urgent, with upwards of fifty little boys and Matron run off her feet. He’d read her credentials, then voiced the opinion that they seemed satisfactory.

      ‘In any case,’ he told her, ‘my mother tells me that Dr van der Breugh is a man of integrity and highly respected. He gave you a most satisfactory reference. Now, as to conditions and salary…’

      He dealt with these quite swiftly and asked, ‘Are you prepared to come? As soon as possible?’ He

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