Текст книги "Britannia All at Sea"

Автор книги: Betty Neels

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Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 10 страниц)

The professor was looking at her gravely, without even glancing at Britannia.

‘I hope that when Britannia here is your age, my dear, she will be as charming as you, and yes, I have come to fetch her; she’s my girl, you see, and although I haven’t a wife and children I hope she will soon fill that gap for me.’

He spoke loudly so that several of the old ladies in nearby beds popped up from beneath their blankets, nodding and smiling their approval.

‘Oh, hush,’ begged Britannia, quite forgetting unhappiness and misery and tiredness in the delight of seeing him again. ‘Everyone is listening.’

He looked at her then, his eyes very blue and bright. ‘And I am glad of it, my darling. The more who hear me say that I love you, the better. Perhaps if I repeat it a sufficient number of times and in a loud enough voice before as many people as possible, you will bring yourself to believe that I mean it.’

Britannia still held Mrs Thorn’s bony little claw in her own capable hand. ‘Oh, Jake…but you must explain—Madeleine told me…’

The professor sat himself down on the end of Mrs Thorn’s bed and stretched his long legs before him as though he intended to stay a long time. ‘Ah, yes,’ his voice was still much too loud and clear. ‘Well, dearest girl, if you will hold that delightful tongue of yours for ten minutes I will endeavour to do that.’

‘Not here, you don’t,’ declared Britannia, aware that old eyes and ears were tuned in all round them, ‘and not now. I’m on duty until eight o’clock and then I should go to supper—I haven’t been yet.’

She trembled as she said it in case he walked away in a temper because he wasn’t getting his own way, but she wasn’t going to give way easily. There was still Madeleine’s shadow between them; she would have to be explained.

The professor spoke with such extreme mildness that she cast him a suspicious look which he met with such tenderness that she had to look quickly away again in case she weakened.

‘I’ve had no supper myself, perhaps we might have it together.’

Britannia tucked Mrs Thorn in carefully. ‘Have you been here long?’ she asked. A silly question really, but she had to say something ordinary; her head might be in the clouds, but she had to keep her feet on the ground.

‘I landed at Dover three hours ago.’

She retied the ribbon at the end of Mrs Thorn’s wispy pigtail.

‘Oh?…’

‘I knew you were here,’ he supplied smoothly, ‘because I telephoned your mother and asked before I left home.’ He got up off the bed. ‘How long will you be, Britannia?’

‘Another ten minutes. But I have to go back to the Home and change…’

‘I’ll be outside.’ He wished Mrs Thorn and the other eagerly listening ladies a good night and went away. Britannia, watching him go, wondered as she saw the ward doors swing gently after him, if she had had a dream, an idea Mrs Thorn quickly scotched.

‘Now that’s what I call an ’andsome man, Staff Nurse. He’ll make you a fine husband.’

Oh, he would, agreed Britannia silently, but only if he made it very clear about Madeleine. She forced her mind to good sense, wished Mrs Thorn a good night, visited the remaining patients, answering a spate of excited questions as she did so, and went to give the report to the night nurses.

They were already in the office and the night staff nurse hardly waited for her to reach for the Kardex before she exclaimed: ‘I say, Britannia, there’s a Rolls at the door and the most super man in it.’ She stared hard at Britannia as she said it; she had heard rumours in the hospital. ‘Is he the boyfriend?’

Britannia said deliberately: ‘Mrs Tweedy, bed one… He’s the man I’m going to marry.’ She hadn’t really meant to say that, but as she did she knew without a doubt that was just what she intended doing, even if she never got to the bottom of the riddle of Madeleine. Before anyone could say a word, she went on: ‘A good day, Mist. Mag. Tri. given TDS. She’s to have physiotherapy by order of Doctor Payne. Mrs Scott, bed two…’

The report didn’t take very long. She handed over the keys, wished the nurses goodnight and went down to the entrance, her cloak over her arm, the bits and pieces she had found necessary to have with her during the day in a tote bag. She had quite forgotten to do anything to her face or her hair, but it didn’t matter. She was so happy that a shiny nose and hair all anyhow went unnoticed.

The professor was in the hall, a bleak dark brown place no one had had sufficient money to modernise. It had a centre light, a grim white glass globe which did nothing for the complexions for those beneath its cold rays. Britannia didn’t notice it; she came to a halt before Jake and said a little shyly, ‘I have to go to the main hospital and change.’

He took her bag from her and fastened the cloak carefully. ‘No, there’s no need. We’ll go to Ned’s Café, where we first met. I suspect, dear heart, that I have a romantic nature.’

‘It’ll be full…’

‘No matter, the more people there the better. If necessary I shall go down on my knees.’

Britannia choked on a laugh. ‘You can’t—you simply can’t…’

‘I simply can.’ He swooped suddenly and kissed her. ‘That’s better—let’s go.’

The Rolls looked a little out of place parked outside Ned’s place, and one or two people turned to stare at them as they went inside. There was an empty table in the middle of the room and the professor led the way to it, wishing those around him a courteous good evening as he went, and when Ned came over with a pleased: ‘Well, I never, Staff—I ’aven’t seen you for weeks, nor you neither, sir. What’s it to be?’ He ordered bacon sandwiches and toasted cheese and a pot of tea, and when Ned had gone again: ‘You’re pale, my darling, and there are shadows under your eyes…’

‘Well, of course there are! I’ve been… Jake, you must explain.’

‘Of course. Here is our tea.’

Ned lingered for a few minutes and Britannia’s hand shook a little with impatience as she poured the strong brew. But Jake didn’t seem impatient at all; indeed, he entered into quite a conversation about the hospital rugger team so that when Ned at last took himself off, Britannia said quite fiercely: ‘I want to know…and all you can do is talk about rugger!’

‘My darling, I was a rugger player myself—besides, I have a soft spot for Ned. He is, as it were, our fairy godfather.’

The bacon sandwiches arrived then and a moment later the cheese and then Ned went away to serve a party of six who had just come in. The professor passed the sandwiches and only after Britannia had eaten almost a whole one did he say: ‘Before I say anything, I want you to read this.’ He took a folded letter from his pocket and handed it across the table to her.

She saw what it was immediately. ‘But why should I? I mean, it was written to Madeleine.’

He gave her a quizzical look. ‘Was it? My dear Britannia, all at sea, aren’t you? Read it.’

She read it silently, pausing once to look at him. He was sitting back watching her with a tender smile. She finished it and then read it for a second time, more slowly.

‘It was for me,’ she whispered. ‘She found it… Marinus didn’t take it.’

‘Yes, love.’

‘But the envelope—she showed it to me…’

‘And if you had looked carefully you would have seen that it was in Madeleine’s own hand. You see, my darling, you expected to see my writing on the envelope, didn’t you, and so you did.’

She folded the letter carefully and held it in her hand. ‘What a fool,’ she said, ‘but you could have told me,’ she began, and then: ‘No, of course you wouldn’t have done that—you thought that I didn’t believe you.’

‘I see that you have a tremendous insight into my failings, dearest, so useful in a wife.’

She poured more strong tea for them both and the professor asked quietly: ‘Will you marry me, Britannia?’

She put her cup down. ‘Oh, Jake, yes—you know I will!’

‘I have a special licence with me, we can marry tomorrow at your home.’

For a moment Britannia had no words. The thought that there could be nothing nicer than to get up from the rickety little table and just go home without more ado and marry Jake in the morning lingered for a few seconds in her head before she said: ‘But I can’t, Jake. I’ve another four days—I should have to pack and…’

‘You can if you want to. I’ve dealt with all that. I don’t know how important the packing is—half an hour? Your mother said she would leave the door for us and something on the stove.’

‘Mother? How does she know?’

‘I telephoned yesterday to say that we would be coming. Your father was kind enough to advise me about the licence.’

‘I thought it took days…’

‘A day or so, yes. I telephoned him when I got back to Holland and found out about Madeleine.’

Britannia bit into a sandwich. ‘How did you do that?’ she wanted to know.

‘I asked her what she had done. Will you mind very much if we go straight back to Hoenderloo tomorrow, my darling? I have a list for the following day, but after that I’m free until after Christmas. We shall have the house to ourselves, Mama is going to Emma’s and we are invited there for Christmas Day, so we shall have a day or so together, and at New Year, the whole family will come to us again, and I thought we might ask your mother and father as well…’

Britannia’s eyes filled with tears. ‘Oh, Jake, I’d love to go back to Hoenderloo—your mother doesn’t mind?’

‘She loves you, dearest, they all do.’ He smiled at her. ‘Are you going to cry? Do you want my handkerchief?’

She shook her head. ‘I’m not crying, truly I’m not. Must I see anyone before I go?’

‘Your Principal Nursing Officer said that she would be in her office until ten o’clock. What about your friends?’

‘They’ll be together in someone’s room, having tea,’ said Britannia. ‘I can see them all at once and pack in ten minutes.’

‘Then eat some of that cheese, my darling, and have another cup of this extremely strong tea and I’ll take you back.’

The café had thinned of customers by now, the last of them had gone by the time Britannia had obediently gobbled down the toasted cheese. Ned came over with the bill and the professor paid with a handsome tip, and Ned, who was no fool, melted through the little door behind the counter and left them alone.

‘Ready?’ asked the professor, and came round to button her into her cape once more.

She looked up at him and smiled. ‘We’ll have to hurry.’

‘You are quite right, my darling, as you so often are, but no one is going to hurry me for a moment.’

He put his arms round her and bent to kiss her, and no one, least of all Britannia, hurried him.

ISBN: 978-1-4592-3929-6

BRITANNIA ALL AT SEA

Copyright © 1978 by Betty Neels.

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