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Never While the Grass Grows. Бетти Нилс
Читать онлайн.Название Never While the Grass Grows
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781408982440
Автор произведения Бетти Нилс
Жанр Зарубежные любовные романы
Издательство HarperCollins
She had no chance to test her theory for the moment, however; Sister Wise had disappeared for the time being, leaving Mary and herself to make sure that everything was exactly as it should be before the first of the passengers came on board the next day. It wasn’t until the following morning that she found time to discuss their duty hours with them, because she had come to bed long after the two of them were asleep. ‘Having a go at charming the boss,’ Mary had observed over breakfast. ‘She looks much younger by electric light…’
Octavia had laughed at that. ‘Mary, if I didn’t know what a nice girl you were I might think you were being catty!’ She poured second cups of coffee for them both. ‘Besides, Doctor van der Weijnen is old enough to take care of himself. Which reminds me—he’s a professor, too—I remember seeing it in the Casualty Book.’
Mary bit into a slice of toast. ‘Whatever made him take on this job? You don’t think he’s hiding from someone, or perhaps…’
‘Lord no, Mary—you heard what he said; he’s filling in for Doctor Blamey—possibly they’re friends and he’s got a couple of weeks’ holiday.’ She pushed back her chair. ‘Oughtn’t we to start thinking of this boat drill? It’s almost time.’
It was hard to take boat drill seriously. Octavia, swamped in a life-jacket, was inspected by the Captain and a little posse of officers, among whom were Doctor van der Weijnen and Colin White, who winked at her. She didn’t look at the Dutchman—easy enough, for her eyes were on a level with his tie, although she found herself tempted to glance up at him. Leave that to our Joan, she told herself severely, and obedient to orders tested the whistle dangling from her life-jacket.
They dispersed for coffee after that and Sister Wise joined them, notebook and pen in hand. ‘The duty hours,’ she explained loftily. ‘Eight o’clock until two o’clock and on call from ten o’clock at night until eight o’clock the following morning. Then from two o’clock until ten o’clock in the evening, the third rota is on call from eight o’clock until two o’clock and then free for the rest of the day—which means that on every third day we’re each free from two o’clock and on each third night one of us will be on call. Should there be a case during the night, whoever is on call must endeavour to cope by herself; we can’t have all three of us up all night. Of course, these times are changed when we are in port; we’ll settle that later.’ She fixed Octavia with a cold stare. ‘I hope you’re quite satisfied, Octavia?’ Not at all what Mary had told her—in fact a dreadful muddle, decided Octavia; such airy-fairy duty hours would end in confusion.
‘It sounds fine. I expect we have to do a bit of give and take between us?’
‘Naturally, but do understand that I am the one who arranges the duty hours.’
The first passengers arrived in the afternoon and the great ship, filling itself slowly with excited people, took on a holiday atmosphere. Octavia, her chores done, stood with Mary on deck and watched them come on board; mostly couples, and most of those not so very young, but there was a sprinkling of younger men and women too and several family parties in splendid spirits, and to her surprise, a number of very small babies.
‘There’ll be quite a few people travelling on their own,’ Mary told her. ‘There’s a party for them all tomorrow evening so they can get to know each other.’
‘I don’t think I’d like to come alone. Do we go to dinner tonight?’
‘Rather—we sit at different tables and help the conversation, though no one needs any help after the first day. Have you got something pretty to wear? Tomorrow we’ll be in uniform—perhaps sooner if anyone’s ill tonight.’
Octavia turned to look at her. ‘You’re a cheerful little thing, aren’t you? The weather’s lovely. I shouldn’t think anyone would realise that we’re moving, let alone bobbing up and down, and surely they’re all too interested to think about being ill.’
‘Well, yes,’ Mary agreed, ‘I’ve never known anyone be ill on the first night. Look, there’s the boss coming up the gangway. He’s very handsome, isn’t he? Our Joan’s going to get some stiff competition.’ Mary giggled. ‘I say, why don’t you cut her out? You’re ever so pretty, Octavia. I bet you could if you tried.’
Octavia turned away from the rail. ‘I’m not in the least interested in him,’ she declared briskly, and knew as she said it that there was no truth in the remark.
The first few days slid away. There wasn’t much to do; a sprained ankle, a few cases of seasickness, brought on, Octavia considered, by apprehension, a handful of cuts and bruises, and that was all. The weather, now that they had rounded Cape St Vincent, was glorious and very warm; there would be several cases of sunburn later. In the meantime, the three of them took their free time during the day and slept without interruption each night. Octavia had acquired a light tan which set off her white uniform very nicely and made her prettier than ever. She was popular at her table in the restaurant too, and much in demand for dancing in the evening when she was off duty. If she had been a passenger and not a ship’s nurse, she could have had a simply splendid time. As it was, she was pleasant to everyone without making any attempt to become especially friendly, indeed her behaviour was exemplary so that Sister Wise had no fault to find with her, and Mary, spending as much of her free time with Colin as she could, wanted to know anxiously if Octavia was enjoying herself. And Doctor van der Weijnen, presiding over the small morning surgery, lifted his head from the papers on his desk long enough to enquire if she had settled in nicely. She assured him in a cool voice that she had and was surprised when he went on: ‘I haven’t seen you dancing a great deal—perhaps you don’t enjoy it?’
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