LITMIR.BIZ

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ate her breakfast in a dream, but a happy one; she would go home just as soon as she could throw a few things into a bag and get Mabel into her basket. Lunch—eaten in the warmth of the kitchen—and then bed until suppertime and then bed again. She went out to the entrance in a happy daze, straight into the professor’s waistcoat.

      ‘You’re still here?’ she asked him owlishly. ‘I thought you’d gone.’

      ‘No, no.’ He urged her into the Bentley. ‘I’ll drive you home, but first to your room.’

      She was too tired to argue; ten minutes later she was in her flatlet, bundling things into her overnight bag, showering and dressing, not bothering with her face or hair, and then hurrying down to the door again in case he had changed his mind and gone. Her beautiful, anxious face, bereft of make-up, had never looked lovelier. The professor schooled his handsome features into placid friendliness, stowed her into the car, settled Mabel on the back seat, and drove away, not forgetting to wave in a civil manner to Miss Phipps.

      Sophie tossed her mane of hair, tied with a bit of ribbon, over her shoulder. ‘You’re very kind,’ she muttered. ‘I hope I’m not taking you out of your way.’ She closed her eyes and slept peacefully for half an hour and woke refreshed to find that they were well on the way to her home.

      She said belatedly, ‘I told Mother I’d be home about one o’clock.’

      ‘I phoned. Don’t fuss, Sophie.’

      ‘Fuss? Fuss? I’m not—anyway, you come along and change all my plans without so much as a by your leave… I’m sorry, I’m truly sorry, I didn’t mean a word of that; I’m tired and so I say silly things. I’m so grateful.’

      When he didn’t answer she said, ‘Really I am—don’t be annoyed…’

      ‘When you know me better, Sophie, you will know that I seldom get annoyed—angry, impatient…certainly, but I think never any of these with you.’ He gave her a brief smile. ‘Why have you only two nights off after such a gruelling eight nights?’

      ‘The other night sister—Ida Symonds—is ill again.’

      ‘There is no one to take her place?’

      ‘Not for the moment. The junior night sister on the surgical wards is taking over while I’m away.’

      They were almost there when he said casually, ‘I’m going back to Holland tomorrow.’

      ‘Not for good?’

      Her voice was sharp, and he asked lightly, ‘Will you miss me? I hope so.’

      She stared out at the wintry countryside. ‘Yes.’

      ‘We haven’t had that lunch yet, have we? Perhaps we can arrange that when I come again.’

      ‘Will you be back soon?’

      ‘Oh, yes. I have to go to Birmingham and then Leeds and then on to Edinburgh.’

      ‘But not here, in London?’

      ‘Probably.’ He sounded vague and she decided that he was just being civil again.

      ‘I expect you’ll be glad to be home again?’

      ‘Yes.’ He didn’t add anything to that, and a few moments later they had reached her home and were greeted by her mother at the door before the car had even stopped, smiling a warm welcome. Not a very satisfactory conversation, reflected Sophie, in fact hardly a conversation at all. She swiftly returned her mother’s hug and went indoors with the professor and Mabel’s basket hard on her heels. He put the basket down, unbuttoned her coat, took it off, tossed it on to a chair and followed it with his own, and then gave her a gentle shove towards the warmth of the kitchen. Montgomery and Mercury had come to meet them and he let Mabel out of her basket to join them as Mrs Blount set the coffee on the table.

      ‘Will you stay for lunch?’ she asked hopefully.

      ‘I would have liked that, but I’ve still some work to clear up before I return to Holland.’

      ‘You’ll be back?’ He hid a smile at the look of disappointment on her face.

      ‘Oh, yes, quite soon, I hope.’ He glanced at Sophie. ‘Sophie is tired out. I won’t stay for long, for I’m sure she is longing for her bed.’

      He was as good as his word, saying all the right things to his hostess, with the hope that he would see her again before very long, and then bidding Sophie goodbye with the advice that she should sleep the clock round if possible and then get out in the fresh air. ‘We are sure to meet when I get back to England,’ he observed, and she murmured politely. He hadn’t said how long that would be, she thought peevishly, and he need not think that she was at his beck and call every time he felt like her company. She was, of course, overlooking the fact that her company had been a poor thing that morning and if he had expected anything different he must have been very disappointed. All the same, she saw him go with regret.

      The two days went in a flash, a comforting medley of eating, sleeping and pottering in the large, rather untidy garden, tying things up, digging things out of the ground before it became hard with frost, and cutting back the roses. By the time she had to return to the hospital she was her old self again, and her mother, looking at her lovely face, wished that the professor had been there to see her daughter. She comforted herself with the thought that he had said that he would be back and it seemed to her that he was a man whose word could be relied on. He and Sophie were only friends at the moment, but given time and opportunity… She sighed. She didn’t want her Sophie to be hurt as she had been hurt all those years ago.

      It was November now, casting a gloom over the shabby streets around the hospital. Even on a bright summer’s day they weren’t much to look at; now they were depressing, littered with empty cans of Coca Cola, fish and chip papers and the more lurid pages of the tabloid Press. Sophie, picking her way towards her own front door a few hours before she was due on duty again, thought of the street cleaners who so patiently swept and tidied only to have the same rubbish waiting for them next time they came around. Rather like us, I suppose, she reflected. We get rid of one lot of patients and there’s the next lot waiting.

      Miss Phipps was hovering as she started up the stairs. ‘Had a nice little holiday?’ she wanted to know. ‘Came back by train, did you?’

      Sophie said that yes, she had, and if she didn’t hurry she would be late for work, which wasn’t quite true, but got her safely up the rest of the stairs and to her room, where she released Mabel, fed her, made herself a cup of tea, and loaded her shoulder-bag with everything she might need during the night. She seldom had the chance to open it, but it was nice to think that everything was there.

      The accident room was quiet when she went on duty, but Casualty was still teeming with patients. She took over from the day sister, ran her eye down the list of patients already seen, checked with her Staff and phoned for Tim Bailey to come as soon as possible and cast his eye over what she suspected was a Pott’s fracture, and began on the task of applying dressings to the patients who needed them.

      Tim arrived five minutes later. ‘I’ve seen this lot,’ he said snappily. ‘They only need dressings and injections; surely you—?’

      ‘Yes, I know and of course we’ll see to those… This man’s just come in—I think he’s a Pott’s, and if you say so I’ll get him to X-Ray if you’d like to sign the form.’

      She gave him a charming smile and she had sounded almost motherly, so that he laughed. ‘Sorry— I didn’t mean to snap. Let’s look at this chap.’

      She had been right; he signed the form and told her, ‘Give me a ring and I’ll put on a plaster, but give me time to eat my dinner, will you?’

      ‘You’ll have time for two dinners by the time I’ve got hold of X-Ray; it’s Miss Short and she is always as cross as two sticks.’

      The man with the Pott’s fracture was followed by more broken bones, a stab wound

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