Staff Nurse in the Tyrol (11 page)

“Don’t you believe in second chances?”

He threw her a glance. “For individuals occasionally, but not for nations. History may repeat itself, but never in quite the same way and never with the same people. I suppose you’re wanting a second chance for you
r
self?”

Sonia found breath to sigh. “I don’t know about a second chance. You haven’t given me even one chance to prove myself yet!”

He laughed. “I wasn’t aware that my opinion mattered, although perhaps I have forced it down your throat. But seriously, what do you expect to gain by proving yourself as you call it? You may break away from the pattern laid down by your parents for a time, but in the end you’ll have to conform, won’t you? Marry and settle down to have a family and so on.”

“But you escaped from what your parents planned. Why shouldn’t I?” Sonia cried hotly.

“Because you’re a woman, dear Sonia, that’s why,” Michael told her firmly. “There’s our tram.”

Sonia could feel the air gradually getting cooler as the tram wound its way up through the forest. Beyond she could see the mountains with their ever-changing beauty she could never tire of.

As she walked up the drive with Michael she noticed that Stefan was waiting on the terrace for them. He was pacing up and down impatiently. He apparently hadn’t seen them yet.

Michael caught her by the arm and drew her into the shadow of a tree. “Sonia, I want you to promise me something,” he said quickly.

Some urgency in his tone took her attention.

“I want you to promise that if Stefan asks you to go to one of his meetings, you won’t go.”

“Why?”

“Because it might be dangerous. I think he’s mixed up with some sort of underground movement connected with his own country. Now, will you promise?” Michael was impatient.

There was a dominating note in his voice that instinctively made her hold back. “I think you’re exaggerating! Anyway Stefan isn’t likely to involve me in anything.” Some feeling of perversity prompted her to ignore his plea. “Thank you for taking me out. I enjoyed it very much.” She started to walk away.

“But,
Sonia...”

She glanced back at him. “I can look after myself, you know. Stefan’s waiting for you.”

She knew that he was itching to shout at her, to make her do what he wanted. While she was aware that she wasn’t being quite fair to him, especially after he had been so much nicer this afternoon, she couldn’t help feeling triumphant.

Stefan gave her a troubled glance as she passed him. “Sonia, did you have a disagreement with Michael?”

Sonia gave him a nonchalant smile. “Only a very small one. Nothing important.”

She went on toward her room. She would have time for a cool bath to take away some of the stickiness before she went back on duty she might even be able to have an iced coffee in the little caf
e
.

Greta was waiting for her at the ward entrance. Sonia could see that the other girl was in one of her stormy moods, and it distressed her. She was pleasantly cool after her bath and she didn’t want a fuss.

“I hope I’m not late, Greta.” She knew that in fact she was five minutes early, but perhaps there was something about the idea, “when in
doubt ...
attack.”

Greta seemed a trifle surprised, and although she didn’t smile her attitude relaxed a little. “No, you are not late. Did Michael and you have a good time together?”

Sonia was not deceived by the attempted casualness. “It was so hot, and we had to walk part of the way. He took me to have tea with the Burckhardts.”

There was no doubting the other’s relief. “You go to see the Burckhardts. By why? They are poor ... they are nobody.” Her tone was contemptuous.

“I think Michael wanted me to meet a typical Austrian family,” Sonia explained cautiously.

“He has shown you that! There are thousands like the
Burckhardts clutching onto a life that can offer them
nothing ...
nothing but poverty and hard work until the day that they die. It is not for me, that life. I will escape!”

“But your parents, Greta,” Sonia said gently.

Greta flung up a hand as if to shut out something that she would rather not see. “They have had their chance and now they must let me go. The future is for the young ones. They must manage without
me ...
But I forget. Sister Th
er
ese awaits you and Michael waits for me!
Auf Wiedersehen,
dear Sonia.”

CHAPTER SIX

Sonia
went into the ward rather slowly. Greta’s statement that she was going out with Michael had left her with an inexplicable feeling of sadness. It was no use telling herself that Greta and Michael had been friends long before she had ever come to St. Anton. Was it the fact that Michael appeared to go out of his way to look after her, scold her, order her about, that she had come to believe she had some small share in him? She tried to remind herself that only an hour ago she had been furious with him and had told him that she was quite capable of looking after herself. This going out with Greta couldn’t be a result of her attitude, because they could have only arranged it previously, if Greta
was telling the truth. For a moment she let the suspicion comfort her, and then sadly she relinquished it. Greta might be possessive where Michael was concerned, but she wouldn’t lie about an invitation. One didn’t risk that with Michael.

Sister Therese was standing by her desk, and there was a stranger with her. They both smiled at Sonia as she advanced. The nun took her by the hand and said in her soft voice; “Fraulein
Jaegar ... Schwester
Allison.
Bitte.
”

Sonia looked enquiringly at the stranger. “I’m afraid I don’t speak much German,” she apologized.

Fraulein Jaegar laughed reassuringly. “I speak English a little. Sister Therese say you will let me help you with the children this night. I work for the Red Cross after the war is finished. Sister Therese say I can be interpreter for you. She goes off duty now.”

Sonia tensed for an instant. This could only be a result of Michael’s interference. Then she felt ashamed. Michael hadn’t done it for personal reasons. He had been thinking of the patients and so should she. The few phrases that she had at her command were not enough to safeguard their interests.

“Thank you, Fraulein.
Danke,
Schwester Therese.” Sonia managed to sound really grateful.

“Could you give me a gown to put on? Tell me what you wish me to do. Often when the hospital is busy I help there. You know Greta Helptmann, eh?”

“She is my friend. I came to St. Anton because she was here.” Sonia wondered why she had put it that way.

“You know her well? You are good friends, eh?” Fraulein Jaegar started to help her straighten the children’s beds.

“She was the one who showed me around the hospital when I was on holiday in Austria.” Sonia wished that the woman wouldn’t ask quite so many questions.

“So you know her only short time. Greta, she is a strange
girl ...
with many ambitions ... and so often not happy. But now I think she is happy. She marries the English surgeon quite soon. It is all arranged, they tell me. I think they go to live in England perhaps, or is it America? Of that I am not certain.”

Her voice seemed to be coming from a long way off, and then it sounded closer and very clear. Sonia felt a wrenching pain as she returned to full awareness of her surroundings and of how much it mattered to her what the woman was saying. She had to find out whether it was true, or simply idle gossip that the other had picked up.

“Do you come in often to help on this ward, Fraulein?” She found herself straining to hear the answer.

“Yes, I come many days. I came last evening, but I think you not here.
Ja,
Greta tells me that her English nurse friend is off duty. She is excited and so full of the good tidings that she is in love and that she marry soon the English surgeon. What is the name that she calls him?
Ja,
I remember. It is
Michael ...
the other I do not remember, but it is not important. Have you the bo
y
friend in England? Does he not mind that you come to Austria and leave him behind?

“I have no boy friend in England.” How bleak the sentence sounded!

“That is sad, but perhaps you meet the nice Austrian boy soon. They are so romantic and so ... how do you say
it ...
passionate, and they like the English girls to take out for the parties ... not always to marry. They are Catholic, you understand, and that makes for much difficulty, does it not? I am glad you have come. I like to talk the English. It is good practice. You do not mind that I talk the English, eh?”

“No, of course not,” Sonia said quietly.

Let Fraulein Jaegar talk. It didn’t matter what she said now, and at least it provided a cover of sound. The children’s voices seemed so clear, like the clarity of sounds before rain fell. Her own actions had the detachment of a dream and yet her thoughts held the makings of a nightmare. Through them ran the maddening refrain: She marries the English surgeon quite
soon ...
quite soon...

Sonia thought she would never get through the evening. She gave Fraulein Jaegar the flowers to do—she couldn’t have stood another moment of that endless chatter—and escaped into the nursery to feed the babies. They were crying, but at least their cries were not shaped into words that would hammer at her brain. What was she going to do? How could she carry on as if nothing had happened?

Stefan found her here. “What troubles you, Sonia? You look so pale. Is it the heat?”

Sonia nodded thankfully. “Yes, it is the heat. I’m not used to it.”

“I was afraid that you were not well because of the difficult journey last night. I tell Michael that I did not intend to keep you on the mountain, and at last he believes me. But first he is most angry, and I shout at him too. Then we are the friends again.”

“I’m glad,” Sonia said quietly. “I would not like to be the cause of a quarrel between you.”

Stefan raised his eyebrows. “Many times we quarrel about many things, but always we shake hands at the end of the cross words. I am sorry that I cannot take you out tonight to show you that I can be a trusted friend and not foolish romantic, since that is not what you want. But this is my turn to take the Ambulance Station ... what you call the Emergency ... and it is Michael’s turn to go out. He has gone with Greta. They are friends, as I have explained. This time I do not mind. It is different now. Tomorrow night you can come with me and meet my friends. You will like to come, yes?”

She had to ask a question first. “Do you mind about Michael and Greta ...
?
” She found she couldn’t finish the sentence.

“At one time I mind very much. Since you have come it is not so important. Will you come with me tomorrow night? It is big reason why I like you to meet my friends.”

“Yes, I will come.” She ignored the distant echo of warning words ... Michael’s words: Because it might be dangerous ... I want you to promise. It couldn’t matter to him now whether she went or not. He had other things to think about. She was quite able to look after herself, wasn’t she?

Stefan was speaking again. "I must go now. There may be a case for me. I see you tomorrow evening. I take you to supper and to meet my friends. They will be very pleased that I bring you, I think.”

Sonia was thankful when he had gone. There had been an undercurrent of excitement in his manner that had penetrated the cloak of indifference that she had laid over her hurt. But perhaps it was only pleasure at the thought of taking her out. No, it couldn’t be anything else.

At last it was time to go off duty, and she could escape to her room, but its peace brought no solace. The air hung heavily like an oppressive cloud, and no breeze stirred the curtains. Sonia took off her uniform and for a moment toyed with the idea of an early night. But she knew that she couldn’t sleep ... not for a long time yet. Perhaps it might be cooler in the garden. She slipped on a dress, changed into her sandals, and walked down the corridor toward the outer door.

The garden had taken on a mysterious aspect in the soft twilight. Already the first stars had hung their lanterns in the sky.

The lights of the restaurants of the Hungerberg and the Patscherkofel blazed like man-made planets against the misty slopes of the mountains. The lights of the modern medical block made a glittering scene that could have been transported from New York, while the softer radiance of the older wings threw a gentler pattern. The dimly-seen trees fluttered their leaves from time to time, stirred by a breeze too faint to be felt against her hot cheeks. There was only a trace of dew on the grass ... the air too dry to give up any moisture. She could hear the subdued murmurs of voices as the convalescent patients sought some degree of coolness on the balconies. In the distance rose the muffled hum of the city spread out below them like a star-spangled carpet.

“What’s the matter, Sonia? Are you homesick already?”

Michael’s voice came out of the darkness, but the flicker of contempt in it gave her back the self-control she had allowed to slip momentarily. How long had he been standing there? Was Greta with him? It was too dark to make out more than the vague outline of his tall figure.

“I suppose you could call it that if you like.” By some miracle her voice sounded steady.

“Want to go home?” Michael reached out for another chair and pulled it over.

“No, of course not! Can’t I feel homesick if I like?” Sonia snapped at him. Why couldn’t he go away and leave her in peace?

“I suppose so, if you want to. Why aren’t you in bed? I would have thought you needed an early night after your mountain scramble yesterday.”

Did he have to remind her of that?

“It was too hot in my room,” Sonia said briefly.

“Like to come to the cafe and have an iced coffee, then?”

Sonia was puzzled by some note in his voice. He sounded as if it really mattered to him that she had been crying, that she had found it too hot to sleep.

“What about Greta? Wouldn’t
she ...” Sonia
began.

“Greta has a headache. Anyway, it’s you I’m asking, not Greta. Are you coming?” Michael sounded impatient.

Feeling annoyed at her own weakness, Sonia capitulated. “Yes, please.” She stood up.

“Here, take my hand. That path is rather dark. Mind you don’t stumble.”

Then her hand was resting within the warmth of his palm; the tall strength of his body was within touching distance, and she couldn’t even dare let herself enjoy it. She was almost glad when they emerged into the glaring brightness of the cafe. Michael led her to a corner table and called their order across to the waitress. A group of lads from one of the villages were playing gay Tirolean music on their accordions, and some of their audience were beating out the rhythm with their feet. For a little while she could forget her heartache. She could study Michael’s face while he watched the other occupants of the cafe, note the stubborn line of his chin and the tell-tale curve of his mou
t
h that betrayed the gentleness he would never admit to possessing.

The waitress brought their tall glasses of coffee. Michael exchanged joking remarks with her in German, and his face took on an aspect of merriment that Sonia had seldom had the opportunity to observe. How strongly he did everything, whether he was arguing, forcing his opinions down someone’s throat, working over a patient, laughing, or just talking.

“Come on, Sonia. Stop dreaming and drink your coffee.”

Sonia flushed. What if he had guessed at the direction of her wayward thoughts? She mustn’t risk going out with him alone again. She must
m
ake sure that Greta or Stefan was there as well. She couldn’t
bear ...

“You’re looking awfully serious, my pet. Have something on your mind?” Michael asked lightly.

Sonia gulped. “I’m tired,” she said defensively.

He looked at her critically. “Sure there isn’t anything more? Haven’t fallen in love with one of those handsome Austrians, have you? Come on, tell your Uncle Mike all about it!”

“I haven’t fallen in love with an Austrian, so there!” Anger was the safest refuge.

“Hey, keep your shirt on, I was only offering to help,” Michael protested.

“I’m sorry.” How inadequate it sounded. She was sorry for so
many things and not only for hurting him, but for the pain she had brought upon herself; for feeling love where none was wanted, for the ache of wanting to comfort someone who would never want her gift.

“If you’ve finished, Sonia, let’s get back. I’m tired even if you’re not.”

They walked up the long curving driveway, so close to one another in the warm scented darkness, and yet so far apart that they might have stood at opposite ends of the earth. All around them were the soft sounds of the night, and overhead the stars blazed down on an uncaring world. Why was she here so far from what she had known? What had brought Michael here? The same search for something different, for a meaning to what they were doing?

“What are you thinking about, Sonia?” Michael’s voice was as quiet as the night.

“I was wondering why you had come to St. Anton,” Sonia answered truthfully. She could sense him move restlessly as if her question had touched some raw spot.

“I sometimes wonder myself. I had visited it when on holiday several years ago. The Herr Direktor had laughingly suggested that I come and work for them since I spoke German so well, and I said I would some day. We both intended it as a joke, but here I am. I like it and so I stay.”

“But haven’t you any ambitions for the future? Wouldn’t you like t
o travel ...
go to America, for instance?” She was puzzled.

He laughed. “You’re as bad as Greta, always harping about America! Who knows? I might go, next week ... next month ... next year. It all depends.”

So they had been discussing it, planning in the half-practical way that lovers did. Would it ease the pain when they had departed? Would it get any easier when she didn’t have to see him every day? Not to see Greta looking at him with angry, possessive eyes whenever he spoke to anyone else?

He was continuing, “Sometimes I think it’s a mistake to travel until you know what you want, because after all you still carry all your problems, your uncertainties, with you. The fact that you’re working them out in a different environment doesn’t make their solution any more sure. You even lose some of your security as you move from place to place.
C
ome on, Sonia, it’s too late to put the world to rights. I still don’t know what I really want and I’m sure you don’t either.”

But he was wrong on both counts. He wanted
Greta ...
at least wanted her enough to marry her ... and she herself knew that she would love Michael until the end of her days. She might fall in love some day, but nothing would ever touch this bittersweet feeling she had experienced tonight. It had a freshness and a fierceness, that nothing else would ever equal.

They were approaching the entrance to the nurses’ quarters.

“Goodnight, Sonia. Don’t worry. You’ll be smiling tomorrow.” His voice was very gentle and seemed to lay a caressing touch on the ache in her heart.

“Goodnight, Michael.” She hurried swiftly away before he could see the tears glistening in her eyes.

Next day, Greta seemed to be wearing an air of triumph oddly mixed with sulky anger that puzzled Sonia. Perhaps she should have wished the other girl happiness, but she hesitated to do so until Greta made some sort of announcement. Fraulein Jaegar’s prattle could have been careless gossip spread without Greta’s knowledge or consent. Of course there was no way that Greta could have known about the visit to the cafe.

It was another scorching hot day and the wards seemed to pulsate with the heat. The children were noisy and fretful; the babies seemed to cry more than usual. Sonia felt her uniform clinging damply to her skin and longed for the time when she would be off duty. Stefan came in to make his afternoon rounds. Sister Th
e
rese and Greta were both off, so it was Sonia who conducted him from bed to bed. Her study of German was paying dividends, and she could make out most of his questions to the children. It was when she had to speak that her confidence failed her. Her tongue stumbled more from nervousness than from lack of what to say.