LITMIR.BIZ

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sure how long you would be. Were you very busy?’

      Claribel, tearing into her overall, told her.

      ‘You’ve had no lunch?’ asked Miss Flute worriedly.

      Claribel went faintly pink. ‘Well, Mr van Borsele gave me a lift back and I—we had a sandwich in Nick’s Diner.’

      ‘Very civil of him,’ answered Miss Flute briskly. ‘There’s that nervous old lady with the hip—will you take her on? She’s so scared, she needs someone gentle and unhurried.’

      ‘Unhurried?’ Claribel cast her eyes to the ceiling. ‘Miss Flute, I’ll be lucky to get away by six o’clock.’

      ‘Well, you’ve had a nice morning, haven’t you, dear?’ suggested Miss Flute and went back into her office.

      Claribel, pacifying her elderly patient, decided that, yes, she had had a nice morning. It was a pity that she had been too late to go to the ward for Mr van Borsele’s round; perhaps Miss Flute would send her to Men’s Orthopaedic for the next consultant’s round; she had been treating several patients there.

      But Miss Flute, it seemed, had other ideas. Claribel spent the next two days in Out-patients with the senior registrar and Frederick and didn’t so much as catch a glimpse of Mr van Borsele. Life was really rather dull, she reflected, getting her supper while Toots and Enoch sat and watched her; it might be a good idea if she were to go home at the weekend. ‘It would be a nice change for all of us,’ she assured the cats as she sat down to her solitary meal.

      She bumped into him—literally—as she crossed the courtyard to go home on the following day. He put out a had to steady her and said without preamble, ‘I’m going to Bath for the weekend. I’ll drop you off at Tisbury and pick you up on the way back.’

      ‘Oh, but I…’ She caught his eye and stopped then began again, ‘I really hadn’t intended…’ Under that dark gaze she faltered again. She said slowly, because she felt compelled to, ‘I should like that very much, Mr van Borsele.’ She added hastily, ‘To go home, I mean.’ She wondered why he grinned suddenly. ‘Shall I meet you here, and at what time?’

      ‘Haven’t you forgotten your cats? I’ll pick you up—half past six at your flat, and mind you are ready.’

      He nodded his goodbye and had gone before she could frame so much as a single word.

      She told Enoch and Toots when she got home and, mindful that she might get away late on Friday afternoon, put her overnight things in a bag and decided what she would wear; before she went to work in the morning she would put her clothes ready. Mr van Borsele might have offered her a lift, but he was quite capable of going without her if she kept him waiting for more than a minute or so.

      Friday’s clinic was overflowing and, to make matters worse, Mrs Green went home during the morning, feeling, as she put it, not at all the thing. That meant Claribel would have to take on several more patients as well as her own, for two of the other girls were at the ante-natal clinic and the other two were only just qualified and needed an eye kept upon them.

      Claribel got home half an hour late. To have sat down, kicked off her shoes and drunk the teapot dry would have been bliss; as it was, she fed the cats, showered, changed into a short jacket and plaid pleated skirt, got her aching feet into her rather smart boots, popped the cats into their basket and opened the door to Mr van Borsele, looking as composed as if she had spent the entire day doing nothing much.

      He ran a knowledgeable eye over her person. ‘Tired? You can doze in the car.’

      A remark which incensed her after her efforts. But she hadn’t noticed the shadows under her eyes or the lack of colour in her cheeks.

      She wished him a good evening, adding that she had no desire to doze. ‘Besides, you might want me to map-read for you.’

      He took her bag from her and stowed it in the boot and then put the cat basket on the back seat. ‘Straight down the A303, once I’m on it. You can wake up when we’re nearby and tell me where to go from there.’

      She said huffily, ‘Well, if you want me to sleep all the way I’ll do my best. There’s no need for you to talk.’

      He shut the door and made sure that it was locked. ‘In you get,’ he urged her. ‘You’re a bit edgy but I dare say you’ve had a hard day with Mrs Green away.’ He got in beside her and turned to look at her. ‘You thought that I wouldn’t wait if you weren’t ready? I am an impatient man, Claribel, but for some things I am prepared to wait—if necessary, for ever.’

      She puzzled over this and found no clear answer. ‘Have you had a busy day?’ she asked politely.

      ‘Very. A quiet weekend will be delightful. You know Bath?’

      ‘Quite well—we go there to shop sometimes. You—you said you had friends there?’

      He was driving west out of London in heavy traffic. ‘Yes, they live at Limpley Stoke—not friends; my young sister and her husband.’

      ‘Oh, she’s Dutch, too…’ It was a silly remark and she waited for him to say so. But he didn’t.

      ‘She spent some years over here at boarding school. She’s happy here and of course they go to Holland frequently.’

      Claribel tried to imagine his sister. Tall, short; thin, fat?

      ‘She’s not in the least like me: small, fair and very slim.’ He glanced sideways at her. ‘Close your eyes, Claribel, you are tired.’

      She frowned. Tired so often meant plain. The thought didn’t stop her doing as she was told; she was asleep within minutes.

      CHAPTER THREE

      THEY were racing past Stonehenge when she awoke, feeling much refreshed.

      ‘Feel better?’ asked Mr van Borsele.

      ‘Yes, thank you. There’s a turning on the left once you’ve got to Wylye; it’s a side road to Tisbury. You can get back on to the A303 if you go through Hindon. If you go via Warminster it’s the quickest way to Bath.’

      ‘Oh, dear, oh, dear. You can’t get rid of me quickly enough, can you, Claribel?’

      Any sleepiness she might have felt evaporated in a trice. ‘I am merely trying to be helpful; you’re coming out of your way to take me home and I am grateful but I don’t wish to impose upon you.’

      ‘Very commendable, Claribel, your thoughtfulness does you credit.’ She could hear the laugh in his voice. ‘Let me hasten to assure you that no one has, or ever will, impose upon me. I do what I like and I contrive to get my own way.’

      ‘How very arrogant. I am surprised that you have any friends, Mr van Borsele.’

      ‘Ah, but I am also cunning; I hide my arrogance under a smooth exterior.’ He contrived to sound ill-done-by. ‘I am in fact both soft-hearted and lovable when you get to know me.’

      Claribel felt laughter bubbling up inside her. She gave a little chuckle. ‘What a good thing that we’re almost there or I might begin to feel sorry for you. The gate is on the left; it’s just a short drive to the house.’

      Light shone through the downstairs windows and as he drove slowly up to the door Mrs Brown flung it open. She hadn’t got her spectacles on, so she blinked short-sightedly as the car stopped. ‘Darling, you got a lift? How nice—bring them in, whoever it is.’ She came a little nearer and saw Mr van Borsele move from the car. ‘My goodness!’ she observed cheerfully. ‘What a large man, and isn’t that a Rolls-Royce?’

      Claribel skipped round the car and embraced her parent. ‘Mother, this is Mr van Borsele from the hospital. He kindly gave me a lift home—he’s going to Bath.’

      She tucked an arm through her mother’s. ‘My mother, Mr van Borsele.’

      He shook hands gently, smiling

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