Staff Nurse in the Tyrol

STAFF NURSE IN THE TYROL

Elizabeth Houghton

When Sonia took
a hospital post in the lovely T
y
r
olean mountains she was not merely trying to recapture the enchantment of the holiday she had spent there. She wanted a chance to feel she was really being of use, to show her possessive parents
—
and a most annoying English surgeon!
—
that she was capable of standing on her own feet. She got her wish
—
and a lot of adventures thrown in, that she had not exactly bargained for.

CHAPTER ONE

Sonia Allison’s hands clenched into tight little fists behind her back, and she tried to make the most of her five feet three. “But, Mommy dear, I don’t want to be a staff nurse in a hospital at home. You know how much I hated it before. The Sisters are stuffy, and the other nurses never have two ideas to rub together.”

Mrs. Allison looked at her youngest daughter despairingly. “But we thought it was only because you were unhappy there. Why not try for that job in London? At least you can get home for weekends. If you’d rather stay at home for a while there’s no need to be in a rush about it. You know that Daddy and I never wanted you to train as a nurse in the first place. We thought it would only unsettle you, and it has.”

Sonia’s mouth trembled. “I wish you and Daddy would try to realize that I want to do something useful. Just because Daddy has lots of money, it doesn’t mean that I want to stay at home.” She braced herself and her small face took on a slightly defiant expression. She spoke very quickly as if determined to get the words out before anyone could stop her. “I didn’t tell you before because I wasn’t sure that I’d get the job. Mummy, I’m going to work in Austria as a staff nurse in that hospital outside Innsbruck ... you know the one I told you about.” She needn’t have worried about being interrupted. Her mother was too astonished to speak.

Sonia’s eyes softened a little. “Mummy, can’t you see? I have to work things out for myself without you and Daddy making it easy for me. In this new job I’ll be on my own. I’ll have to learn a lot more German, even though I picked up quite a bit on my two weeks’ holiday there. Greta will help me. She speaks quite good English already.”

Mrs. Allison looked at her bitterly. “You seem to have it all worked out. I suppose I’ll have to persuade your
father that you’ll be all right. It’s such a shame—I was going to arrange such nice parties for you when you came
home...”

Impulsively Sonia ran across to her mother and put her arms around her. “Mommy,
I’
m sorry I’ve upset you. But just wait and see. It will all work out for the best. I was never meant to be a social butterfly.”

Mrs. Allison put a hand on the smooth head. “You always were a rebel from the day you were born. I suppose I should be used to it, but I did
hope ...
What about that nice young doctor you used to bring home? There’ll only be foreigners there in Innsbruck, not anyone you
can...”

Sonia lifted laughing eyes. “Mommy darling! I’m going out to nurse, not to hunt for a husband. If it makes you any happier there is an English surgeon attached to the hospital. I didn’t meet him. He was away on holiday, but Greta seems to think he’s very nice.”

Mrs. Allison relaxed. “In that case, it won’t be quite so bad. At least there will be someone you can talk to. Now, what about clothes?”

Sonia knew then that her precious plan was safe. At last she was going to be allowed to work out her own destiny for the first time in her over-protected life. Her thoughts flew back to the day she had been shown around the hospital by Greta Helptmann. Was it the different language, the friendliness of the Austrians she had met, the gay colors, the more vigorous air? She didn’t know. She could only remember the feeling that it was here that she could really do something with what she had learned in nurses’ training. And they needed help so
badly...

Sonia leaned excitedly forward in her seat. She could see the bright lights of Zurich Airport coming into view as the plane came in to land. The firm feel of the seat belt helped to subdue the tremble in her stomach. She was really on her way at last. She pushed aside the memory of her parents at London Airport. They belonged to the past; the future, a bright future, was all hers.

It had been so much easier than she expected. Of course her father had taken a hand in the arrangements even though she told him firmly that she could manage.

“We’ll continue with your allowance, of course. I’ve arranged to have it paid into an account in Innsbruck for you every month.”

She hadn’t liked to tell him that she was determined to make do with what she would be paid by the hospital, even though Greta had told her the pay was very poor.

Sonia slipped her coat over her shoulders. At a quarter to four in the morning the air could be cool even at the height of a Swiss summer. The noise of the engine reverberated against her ears as the plane taxied into the dispersal point. The sudden silence seemed more startling than the roar. It was several seconds before she could listen properly to the announcement coming over the loudspeaker in three languages.

“This is Zurich Airport. We trust you have had a pleasant journey, and we hope that you will travel with us again. You will please proceed to the Customs. The coach will take you to the Zurick Hauptbahnhof. Thank you and goodbye.”

It seemed like a signal to tell her that she was on her own at last. There would be no parental hand on her shoulder guiding her through the next steps. Resolutely she unfastened her belt and stood up. Her eyes took on a bright sparkle, and the overhead lights brought out the reddish tints in her dark curly hair.

She remembered to smile at the stewardess standing at the top of the steps.
“Danke schon. Auf Wiedersehen.”
It wasn’t until she reached the ground that she wondered whether she was in the German-speaking part of Switzerland. No doubt the stewardess understood “thank you” and “goodbye” in many languages, so there was no need to worry. How long would it be before she used the words of her new home naturally? She felt rather self-conscious as she moved along in the line-up and listened to the babble of many languages. If only she could offer something other than English for her answers. It was only afterward that she realized the smiling officials had questioned her in English! A bit crest-fallen, she moved over to the line for coach tickets.

She noticed one man crossing the long room to step in front of her with a murmured
pardon.
There was something about his accent that made her feel that he wasn’t French. She looked at him more closely. Broad-shouldered, with the easy carriage of a trained athlete, he was a figure to catch the eye. He was laughing over some little joke with the clerk behind the desk, and for some reason she had the impression that he was a man who didn’t laugh often.

He turned slightly, so she had a glimpse of his face. The strong jaw-line saved the handsome features from any suggestion of weakness, and the sensitive curve of his mouth hinted at a sympathy not apparent in his manner. He gave Sonia a brief glance and moved off toward the coach. She could not remember seeing him on the plane; he must have come in on some other flight.

The clerk gave her a welcoming smile. “You may use English money if you wish, mam’selle.” He gestured in the direction of the man who had just left. “Your compatriot prefers not to do so.”

“Was he English?” Sonia asked politely. Her only concern was to get her ticket and reach the coach before it pulled away. She didn’t want to be stranded at a strange airport in a foreign country in the small hours of the morning.

The clerk shrugged his shoulders and handed her the ticket. “His passport was British, but of course that may not indicate that he is English. But myself I think so.
Au revoir,
mam’selle. Have no fear. The coach does not leave without you.”

Sonia smiled hastily and hurried away. He could be right, but she preferred not to take any chances. She knew that it would take more than her precious few words of German to get her out of difficulty, and she had to prove not only to her parents but to herself that she was capable of managing her own affairs. She scrambled up the steep steps and sank into the first empty seat. In her haste she dropped her passport and her folder of tickets.

“Allow me, mam’selle.” The pleasant voice made her look up. It was the man who had been ahead of her in the line. “It is not wise to be so careless.”

Sonia felt absurdly like a scolded child and her quick temper threatened to flare up. “Thank you so much.” Her tone was barely polite. Couldn’t he see that she hadn’t done it on purpose? She shoved them into her purse and turned toward the window. The busy scene was too exciting for her to remember his reproof for long. Those brightly-lit planes were gliding down from the sky like fireflies; from Rome, Berlin, Vienna, London, and all corners of the world that were still only names on a map to her. Some day she would visit them all. Perhaps she could work her way around the world as a
nurse, staying long enough in each country to learn something of the language and a little of the people. Austria could be just a stepping
stone...

Sonia leaned back in her seat and sighed. If only her parents could understand that she had to be free! Every time they tried to pull her into line with their way of life part of her was tugging fretfully against the restraint to be away from it all, to be taking a peek at other far-off places. Couldn’t they understand that the quick lilt of foreign speech was like exciting music in her ears? The coach started up with a lurch, and she came out of her daydream to peer curiously at the passing scenery. The illuminated signposts caught her eyes, but the bus was past them before she could make out the strange names. They were approaching the outskirts of Zurich now. The houses looked strangely colorless under the street lamps, but at least they didn’t look like English houses and the flowers were too exotic to exist outside an English greenhouse. Not even the cool air coming through the open ventilator smelled like English air. It was really true. She was abroad and on her own.

Sonia was almost sorry when the coach rolled to a stop. It must be the Hauptbahnhof. She would have over two hours to wait for her train to Innsbruck. Suddenly she felt very hungry and very sleepy. Would the restaurant be open? When she had come with Joan they had traveled by day; everything looked so different now. When she walked into the air terminal most of the benches were occupied by dozing people, and the lights were turned low except by the reporting desk where the luggage was being weighed in.

“Will the restaurant be open, please?” Sonia asked shyly.

The clerk glanced at her and then at the clock. “At five it will be open. You may leave your luggage here if you wish, but you must understand it is at your own risk. I would suggest that you go to the first-class restaurant. It would be more suitable for a young lady traveling alone.”

Sonia felt very conspicuous and was sure that the sleeping people were all listening. “Thank you very much.” She found an unoccupied chair in a corner and subsided into it. Half an hour to
wait ... if only she could have a cup of tea...

Sonia had almost fallen asleep when she had a strong feeling that someone was watching her. She jerked into alertness and her eyes fell upon a man sitting opposite her. It was several seconds before she realized where she had seen him before ... it was the coach passenger who had scolded her for dropping her passport. He was gazing at her in a way that could be friendly or impertinent depending on how she interpreted the slightly mocking smile. For an instant she was tempted to smile back, but her parents’ earnest warnings about the dangers of a girl traveling alone stifled the brief impulse, and she pretended to doze off again. She found herself inspecting him from behind her eyelashes. There was something about the strength of his face that appealed to her in spite of her misgivings, but his easy assurance that she would notice him infuriated her. Who did he think he was anyway? Even if he was English, as the clerk at the airport had suggested, it didn’t give him the right either to scold her, or to assume that she would be interested in his advances.

Even as she watched him, he stood up abruptly and began to pick his way cautiously past the other passengers toward the far door. She could see the clock high on the
wall ...
five to five. He must be going to the restaurant. If she followed now, he would think that she was interested in him. Well, she wasn’t. She had come abroad to nurse in Austria, not to take notice of casual travelers. For five long minutes she watched the hand of the clock move slowly toward the hour. Then she stood up stiffly. She hesitated for a moment and glanced at her luggage. It was too heavy to lug down the incline to the restaurant. She would take a chance and leave it.

She shivered as she went through to the main part of the station. How empty it looked in the grayness of early morning. She could see the streets beyond, deserted and uninteresting. Her footsteps seemed to echo and re-echo through the vastness of the building, and it was with relief that she turned right and saw the entrance to the restaurant. She wondered a trifle doubtfully about the second-class ticket in her purse, but no doubt first-class restaurant merely meant that it was more expensive and more respectable than the other.

Sonia pushed open the swing door. As the warm air met her, mixed with the tempting aroma of coffee and new bread, she felt wide awake. She wouldn’t have tea. She would have Swiss coffee with hot milk and croissants. That was half the fun of being abroad; there were all the different menus to explore, trying to guess at what, the strange words meant. The room was almost empty. There were some people in uniform at one table. They looked as if they were airline employees. She looked cautiously around. There was no sign of that man.

She sat down at a table near the serving counter and began to glance through the menu. To her bewilderment none of the
phrases were familiar. She opened her purse for her phrase book and began to turn the pages, but obviously the author of it had never bothered with breakfast. He was far too concerned with complaining that the wine was too warm. A waitress came over to her before she had succeeded in understanding a single word.

“
Sprechen Sie Englisch
?” Sonia asked hopefully.

The girl smiled but shook her head.

“
Kaffee mit Milch und deux croissants, s’il vous plait,"
Sonia said firmly. It was only after the girl had gone that she realized that she had ordered her coffee in German and her rolls in French. Perhaps it would have been better if she had taken some German lessons before she had left England. But her mother had been so emphatic about it that Sonia had stubbornly refused. She would be all right once she arrived in Innsbruck. Greta would be there to meet her. It was all
arranged...

As the waitress put down the silver coffee pot and the jug of hot milk, the warm-smelling rolls, the little jar of jam, Sonia relaxed. She was too hungry to worry just now. When she had finally drained the last drop of coffee she took out her little packet of Swiss money. She would need some for the porter who took her to the train. Would she have enough for both? When she and Joan had been here before it had been simple enough as the exchange desk at the air terminal had been open. Now of course it was shut.

She beckoned to the waitress after Carefully rehearsing the sentence from her little book. “
Geben Sie mix meine Rechnung, bitte.”

But the girl only looked at her and said pleasantly,
“Bitte.
”

Thinking she hadn’t understood, Sonia tried again and finally said desperately, “The bill, please
.
...
l’
addition, s’il vous plait.
”

The waitress nodded and said again,
“Bitte,”
and handed Sonia the bill. She must have understood all the time.

Sonia peered at the figures; they looked oddly foreign because of the way the seven was crossed. She counted out the money carefully. The girl smiled and then pointed at another coin.

“Pour service.”

Reluctantly Sonia gave it to her. The remaining coins looked very few and very small.

“Is Mam’selle in difficulties?”

Sonia looked up hastily. That man was standing beside her, and the sound of English words broke through her former reluctance.

“It’s just that I’m not sure how much I’ll need for the porter,” she explained shyly. Would he think she was being silly?

He looked at the little pile of coins. “H’m, you are cutting it rather fine. If you have a ten-shilling note I’ll change it for you.”

Belatedly she realized that he was no longer speaking with a foreign accent. “You’re English,” she said. It sounded more like an accusation than a statement.

His eyebrows went up and then he smiled. “I was born there, so perhaps it is correct to say I am English.” He took the note from her and added some coins to the ones already in her hand.

Sonia looked at them doubtfully. “It doesn’t make very much.”

“As six francs makes just over nine shillings, I assure you that I’m not cheating you,” he said stiffly.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s just that I’m only used to French
francs...”

He laughed reluctantly. “They’re not quite the same. If you are satisfied...?
”

Sonia was contrite. “Yes, of course I am, and thank you very much.”

He made a little bow. “In that case, I bid you
au revoir.”

She watched him go with a puzzled frown on her face. Why had he said that? She wouldn’t be seeing him again—or was it just a polite way of saying goodbye like
auf Wiedersehen
? She looked around the restaurant again slowly. There was another problem coming up, but her face brightened. She could see the sign
Damen.

That helped a lot. After a good wash with hot water she felt much refreshed. She peered in the little mirror as she put on more lipstick. At least she didn’t look as if she had been up all night. Another hour and she would be getting onto her train. If only she didn’t have to change at Zurich Enge Station ... it would have been so much easier if she could have gone straight through.

The sun was high overhead as the express began to wind its way down into the valley of the Inn. Sonia drew her eyes away from the spectacle of the mountains on the south side of the valley to gaze at the equally high ones on the opposite side. It had been like that for most of the journey, trying to decide which window to watch first. The passengers in her compartment had changed many times during the journey. There had been the peasant women with their neat print aprons over their dresses, the men in their green suits cut almost like a Uniform, and the bright-faced children who had glanced at her a little shyly. Some had brought out their packages of food; thick slices of crusty bread, smoked sausage or cheese, and the sight had made her realize that her breakfast had been a long time ago. But she had arranged to have lunch with Greta when she arrived.

The train was down on the floor of the valley now, and ahead she could see the outskirts of a town. Would it be Innsbruck? It was about time they arrived there.

“
I
st Innsbruck, bitte
?”

There were smiles from her companions. The woman next to her patted her shoulder.

“Ja, ja Innsbruck.”

Sonia began to collect her things. Now that her journey was almost over she was sad to leave the train that had brought her through those breath-taking vistas of mountains half-hidden in the clouds and little villages tucked away under the shadows of those great peaks, swept her into tunnels, through the shelter of the snow barricades, climbed with her to the high passes, and was now dropping her at her destination before going on to far-off Vienna. The women watched her with friendly curiosity, and one of the men lifted down her cases. The train was slowing down and she could see the station, the patient waiting crowds, the strange clothes, and the unfamiliar faces.

As the train drew to a standstill she searched for a sign of Greta. She couldn’t see her anywhere, but before she could look any more the passengers behind her were beginning to push her forward impatiently. She descended the high steps awkwardly and someone handed her cases down to her. They surged past her like a river flowing around an obstruction. Then she stood alone feeling forlorn and lost.

A man in a uniform cap approached her and pointed to her luggage.
“Bitte.
”

Sonia looked at him helplessly. Her few German words had deserted her. “Where is the waiting room, please?”

Greta might be there. Perhaps she hadn’t been allowed on the platform. To her dismay the porter shook his head and looked puzzled.

After a moment he asked helpfully, “Taxi?”

Sonia hesitated, but perhaps that would take her past the waiting room and she might see Greta somewhere. If the worst came to the worst she could go straight to the hospital. Of course last time it had been simple. She had been with Joan. They had gone by tram and had walked the rest of the way. After all, she had the address. She would have a look in a minute.

She smiled at the porter.
“Bitte.”

He picked up her cases and glanced back over his shoulder to make sure she was following. It seemed a long way as they threaded their way through people waiting for other trains on the various platforms. The stairs seemed endless as they went down into the subway. Eventually they came out into the great hall with its splendid array of modern lighting, the showcases of local handicrafts, and everywhere the newness and brightness. It must have been built since the war. She tried to remember if the Allies had bombed this area. It all seemed so long ago, almost but not quite as dusty as the school books she had put aside.

Sonia watched every face of every girl they passed. Of course she would recognize Greta as soon as she saw her. They had spent a whole day together going around the hospital, after all. But her confidence was beginning to wane. So many of them had fair hair that curled softly around their smiling faces, and their eyes were as blue as the ones she remembered. Perhaps Greta was wandering through the crowd too, trying to recall what one English girl looked like.