LITMIR.BIZ

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rang again. The doctor grunted something into the receiver and pushed the instrument towards her.

      ‘Don’t worry,’ he told her, and smiled nicely as he went out of the room. Just the sort of man, thought Arabella, watching him go, one would wish to have with one in a tight corner—quite unflappable, and knowing what to do about everything. She picked up the receiver and waited patiently until her aunt’s excited voice had calmed a little before embarking on the skeleton of their day’s adventure. When she had finished her aunt said: ‘You’re coming back home, of course, Arabella—your uncle will come down and meet you…’

      Her heart warmed to this unexpected kindness. ‘That’s very sweet of him, b-but I d-don’t know…I should think the ch-children would be travelling b-back in a d-day or so, but I don’t know how, and there are t-two of them who will have to stay—they both have f-fractures. I’ll t-telephone you as soon as I know.’

      She said goodbye then and sat quietly in her chair, waiting for the doctor to come back. It was peaceful in the room, and in an austere way, pleasant too; there were a quantity of bookshelves stuffed with heavy tomes, a gently ticking clock on the wall and thick blue curtains drawn across the tall windows. The walls were hung with portraits of wise-looking gentlemen whom Arabella took to be previous governors and members of the medical profession attached to the hospital—the one behind the desk was particularly severe; she closed her eyes to avoid his pointed stare and went to sleep.

      She wakened within minutes to find the doctor standing over her.

      ‘I’m s-so s-sorry,’ she began, and was annoyed to find that her stammer, which hadn’t been too much in evidence, had returned. ‘I was t-trying not t-to look at th-that m-man over there.’

      ‘My great-grandfather,’ remarked the doctor briefly. ‘You’re tired out, we’ll talk again in the morning—there are still several things…’ He smiled suddenly. ‘Sleep after toil, port after stormy seas—I must say you look as though you’ve come through stormy seas and you have certainly toiled.’

      She ignored the last part of his remark, but: ‘Spenser,’ she confirmed, ‘isn’t it from the Faerie Queen?’

      He nodded as she got to her feet. ‘I don’t feel that I have anything in common with someone as delicate and dainty as that,’ she said soberly, and he laughed again.

      ‘No? I daresay I shan’t recognise you in the morning, you will look so prim and neat.’ He opened the door. ‘Good night, Arabella.’

      There was a nurse hovering outside, waiting for her, a large, friendly girl, who sat with her while she ate her supper and then took her upstairs to a small, nicely furnished room where the bed had been invitingly turned down and someone had thoughtfully arranged a nightie, a brush and comb and a toothbrush on a chair.

      Arabella looked with horror at her appearance in the mirror, had a bath, brushed her hair in a perfunctory fashion and jumped into bed, considerably hampered by the nightie, which was a great deal too large. She was asleep within seconds of laying her head on the pillow.

      She felt quite herself in the morning, for she was young and strong, and besides had learned from an early age to school her feelings; giving way to these had been something her uncle had discouraged; he never gave way to his, and although Hilary and her mother were allowed to be the exception to his rule, everyone else about him was expected to be what he described as sensible. So Arabella wasted no time in self-pity but dressed in the clean overall someone had found for her, pinned a borrowed cap upon her now very neat head, and when a nurse knocked on the door and asked if she were ready for breakfast, declared cheerfully that she was.

      Not that she thought much of the meal; bread and butter and cheese and jam seemed a poor exchange after Wickham’s porridge and bacon, but the coffee was delicious and everyone was very kind, chattering away to her in sketchy English and occasionally, when they forgot, in Dutch. And they were quick to help, for when she asked if she might see Sister Brewster, she was taken at once to that lady’s room, to find her sitting up in bed with a tray before her.

      ‘I feel very poorly,’ declared Sister Brewster as soon as Arabella entered the room. ‘I have hardly closed my eyes all night and I have a shocking headache. I shall be glad to get back to Wickham’s and have a few days off in which to recover, for I have had a great shock.’

      Arabella let this pass and waited for her to enquire about the children, or for that matter, about herself, but when the older woman remained silent she said: ‘Well, if you don’t mind, Sister, I’m going to the ward to see how the children are.’

      Her companion shot her a baleful look. ‘I can see that this dreadful experience has hardly touched you,’ she commented sourly. ‘I suppose you found it all very exciting.’

      ‘No,’ said Arabella patiently, ‘I didn’t find it at all exciting when Mr Burns died, nor when the children were hurt and frightened. Do you want anything before I go, Sister?’

      ‘No,’ her superior sounded pettish, ‘you’ll have to see to everything. I’m in no fit state to cope with anything—my head.’

      Arabella bit back some naughty remarks about her companion’s head and went out, closing the door smartly behind her.

      She received a quite different welcome from the children. True, they had bruises and cuts and one or two black eyes, but they were smiling again, trying to express themselves as they had their breakfast. Arabella went to feed Sally and Billy, lying side by side in their beds and inclined to be grizzly and saw with surprise that Doctor van der Vorst was already doing a ward round, going from child to child with a couple of young doctors and the Ward Sister. When he reached Arabella he stopped, wished her good morning and wanted to know how she felt.

      ‘F-fine, thank you, Doctor,’ said Arabella, annoyed about the stammer.

      ‘Good. Will you come to the office at eleven o’clock, Nurse Birch? I—er—gather that Sister Brewster is still confined to her bed.’

      ‘Her head aches,’ said Arabella flatly.

      He nodded again. ‘In that case, we must endeavour to make all the necessary arrangements without bothering her unduly, must we not?’ he asked smoothly as he bent to examine the two children. ‘These fractures are in good alignment; they should do well.’ He smiled at Billy and Sally, ruffled their hair, made a little joke so that they smiled at last, and passed on to the next bed.

      He wasn’t sitting at his desk when she entered the office later on, but standing at the window, looking out, but he turned to her with a smile and came forward to pull out a chair for her.

      ‘How I do take up your time,’ he remarked pleasantly, ‘but I feel we must get these children back home as soon as possible, don’t you agree? The camp to which you were going is quite unsuitable for them, I’m afraid, for most of them are still shocked, not to mention bruises and cuts; to go back to their own familiar surroundings and people they know and trust is essential. I’ve been on the telephone this morning and we have arranged to fly them back the day after tomorrow—I’ll engage to have ambulances to take them to Schiphol, and the staff there have promised their fullest co-operation The children will be met at London Airport—Wickham’s will send nurses and ambulances and give them another check-up before they go to their homes.’ He paused. ‘I have just been visiting Sister Brewster, who feels that she is well enough to accompany them,’ his voice was dry. ‘There remains the question of Sally and Billy; it is out of the question that they should leave the hospital for the moment. I suggest that you should remain here with them, Arabella.’

      She saw her holiday with Doreen fading to a regretful oblivion. Doreen couldn’t be expected to change her holidays yet again—besides, by the time she got back to England it would be October and she couldn’t expect her friend to miss the last of the autumn weather. A wild idea that Hilary might come out in her place crossed her mind, to be instantly dismissed. Mr Thisby-Barnes, for the moment at any rate, was far too important a factor in her cousin’s life. She said slowly:

      ‘If you s-say so, D-Doctor, and if Wickham’s

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