Tabitha in Moonlight (11 page)

‘Oh, Meg, if only I were just a tiny bit pretty, so that he'd look at me—he looks at me now sometimes, but only because he's giving me instructions about a patient or something, and even when we had that lovely day together he stared at me as though—as though he were sorry for me.'

‘Rubbish,' said Meg. ‘Was he the one who told you to change your hair-style?'

Tabitha lifted a puffy face. ‘Yes—so you see…'

‘I see nothing, Miss Tabitha, but he must have looked at you long enough to have seen that a different way of doing your hair would make you look prettier.'

Tabitha sniffed. ‘Dear kind Meg—but don't you see that he only said that because I'm Lilith's stepsister and he wanted me to like him so that I'd be on his side? He may have thought that as I was older she would ask me for advice—about him, I mean—so that she'd fall in love with him.'

Meg said rubbish again, rather more forcibly. ‘Miss Lilith's incapable of falling in love,' she declared roundly, ‘and Mr van Beek, now he's not a man to need pushing when he picks himself a wife.' She handed Tabitha a large snowy handkerchief. ‘Dry your eyes, love, we'll have a cup of tea and you'll feel better; that girl always upsets you, drat her.'

She went to put the kettle on and busied herself laying a tray. ‘He's always been very nice to you, Miss Tabby.'

Tabitha sat down at the table. She said in a stony little voice:

‘He's nice to everyone, Meg—old and young and plain and ugly, even that awful woman where Mr Bow lived—you see, he's kind. Sue says he never loses his temper while he's operating, and he's not impatient. The other day her new junior brushed against him and he had to re-scrub and re-gown, and he just told her not to worry—anyone else would have torn the poor girl apart. And the men like him.'

‘And you like him too, don't you, love?'

Tabitha poured tea for the two of them. ‘Yes, Meg.'

Meg sipped her tea. ‘Love's never wasted, Miss Tabby—there doesn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to it now, but there surely will be.'

Tabitha put down her cup. She had gone a little pale. ‘Meg, how
did you know?' She put her cup down with a little clatter in its saucer. ‘Meg—no one else—he—?'

‘No, Miss Tabby love, but I've known you all your life, haven't I? I can't help but know. But if you don't want to talk about it I won't say another word.'

There was no sign of Marius on Monday morning; it wasn't theatre day, but there was the out-patients' clinic at two o'clock; it looked as though George Steele would have to take it as well as examining the new patients who were filling the empty beds. Tabitha had had her coffee and was explaining for the hundredth time to Mr Bow why he couldn't walk for a few more weeks when she heard the swing of the ward door and then Marius's unhurried step, so that she had time enough to compose her face into its habitual calm before he reached her side. He said at once:

‘Are you very annoyed with me? I should have been here a great deal earlier.'

She achieved a smile, bade him a polite good morning and went on: ‘I hope your lecture tour was a success.'

‘I believe so—though I don't feel I'm the one to ask. Is there anything new in?' He wasn't looking at her, but smiling at Knotty. Tabitha had turned away to ask Rogers to telephone George Steele, now she looked at Marius and said pleasantly: ‘Yes, sir. Mr Steele will be here in a minute. I expect you would like to talk to Mr Raynard.'

Mr van Beek's mouth twisted at its corners, but all he said was:

‘To be sure I should. I'll let you know when I'm ready to do a round, Sister.'

She nodded rather austerely and went away to get Jimmy on to his legs; he had a walking iron now, and a new, lighter plaster, and was going home that afternoon. Naturally enough, he was in tearing high spirits, so that Tabitha became a great deal more cheerful herself; she was chuckling over his grossly exaggerated picture of how he intended to stump down the aisle at his approaching wedding when he interrupted himself to say: ‘Of course you'll come, won't you, Sister—and you, sir?'

Tabitha hadn't heard Marius—he was standing behind her and said readily enough: ‘Of course—I shall be delighted.' He smiled at Tabitha, who pretended not to see. ‘That makes two invitations we have jointly accepted, does it not, Sister?'

Tabitha looked up from her task of fitting a thick sock over Jimmy's large foot. ‘Two?' she queried blankly, ‘jointly?'

Marius said gravely, his eyes twinkling: ‘Yes—this invitation we have just accepted for—when was it, Jimmy?—two weeks today—and Mr Prosser's kind invitation to sample his fish and chips.'

She felt a little glow of pleasure spreading itself under her apron bib. ‘Oh, yes—I didn't think you were serious.'

‘I was. When you are ready, Sister, I should like to do a round.'

The round proved to be a lighthearted affair. George, glad to have a load of work taken off his shoulders, was inclined to be talkative, Tommy was always cheerful anyway and Marius seemed glad to be back. Knotty and Mr Raynard, sitting propped up side by side, had been left until last and when the party reached them it seemed obvious that they were prepared to settle down to a lengthy chat with these two gentlemen. The vexed question as to how much longer both should stay had to be threshed out, and as for some reason best known to themselves, and presumably Marius, they wished to leave at the same time, it took a good deal of discussion for them all to arrive at a date some three weeks ahead. This done, the talk degenerated into a lively exchange of opinion on the joys of sailing, the vagaries of the weather as applied to that sport, and the uses of a pair of bumpkins on a small sailing boat. Tabitha, who hadn't the least idea what these might be and in any case wanted to get on with the patients' dinners, took a cautious step backwards in the hope that she could drift away unnoticed.

But not quite, for Marius said: ‘Yes, do go, Sister—we're wasting your time, I'm afraid.'

Dinners were over and Tabitha, leaving Staff in charge, went to her own meal. The men had gone at last, still talking, nodding polite, rather vague thank-yous as they went. She had the impression that they hadn't really seen her; whatever it was they had been talking about must have been of the most absorbing interest. Tabitha thought this over while she ate her cold beef and salad in an absentminded manner.

‘Sickening for something?' Sue wanted to know. ‘You look peaky.'

It was Mary, the women's medical ward sister, who asked: ‘Has that handsome Mr van Beek been running you off your feet? Not,' she added, ‘that I would mind him running me off mine. I only see him in the distance—he looks fab.'

‘He is,' put in Sue. ‘Every theatre sister's dream come true, and nice with it—not exactly a lady's man, though—none of that “Come hither, girl,” stuff. What do you say, Tabby?'

Tabitha agreed with her friend, thinking privately that it would be nice if she could have disagreed. She smiled at Sue as she spoke; she had a great many friends in hospital not one of whom had ever referred, even obliquely, to her plain face. Even now, Sue had managed to imply that she had as good a chance of having a pass made at her as the prettiest girl there. Tabitha suddenly felt almost pretty; it was surprising what a few kind words could do to a girl's morale. She went back to the ward feeling positively thrilled.

The ward was fairly quiet; Tabitha caught up on her books and then spent an hour showing the newest student just how traction worked and why, and then because she was off at five she decided to have a cup of tea in the office and not go down to the dining room; she could be planning the next two weeks' off duty while she drank it. She made her way up the ward and paused by Mr Raynard and Mr Bow, sitting with their heads bent over a map.

‘Planning to run away?' she wanted to know.

Mr Raynard gave her a considered glance. ‘You might call it that,' he agreed, ‘eh, Knotty?'

Mr Bow coughed. ‘Yes, I suppose one might put it like that. Tell me, Sister, how is my dear Podger doing? It is so kind of you to have him, I fear he may outstay his welcome.'

‘Not he,' said Tabitha cheerfully. ‘He's quite happy—or as happy as he can be without you. Meg loves him.'

‘Meg? Ah, yes, your companion and housekeeper. I am indebted to you both.'

‘He's no trouble, Mr Bow. We're glad to have him until you're able to have him again.'

Mr Bow and Mr Raynard exchanged glances. Tabitha thought they looked like small boys bottling up a secret. ‘That, I hope, will not be too far distant, Sister,' said Mr Bow. His rich sonorous voice sounded gleeful.

Tabitha prepared to move on. ‘I know,' she replied, ‘three weeks at the earliest.' She walked away and then came back to stand by Mr Bow once more. ‘I don't know what your plans are, Mr Bow, but if you want any help I'll be glad to do what I can, and if it's beyond me, I'll get the social worker to come and see you.'

Mr Bow smiled gently. ‘You are a kind and thoughtful young woman,' he pronounced, ‘but I believe my future is already in good hands.'

Tabitha nodded and went on her way quickly, otherwise it might look as though she was curious—which she was. Marius had fixed things for his old friend, she supposed. Doubtless she would know nothing more until she was asked to return Podger. Perhaps Mr Bow was going to stay permanently with Marius, but this wasn't a very fruitful line of thought because she hadn't the least idea where he was living. He seemed to spend his weekends with the Johnsons, but he surely didn't go to and fro each day, and he didn't live in the hospital or she would have heard about it through the grapevine. She pulled the off duty book towards her and looked unseeingly at its neatly ruled pages, ready for her to fill in. She was aware that she was wasting too much time thinking about Marius; it simply would not do. No effort on her part to attract him would stand a chance against Lilith's pale beauty; besides, she didn't know how to set about it.

She sighed loudly and was glad to be interrupted by Mrs Jeffs coming in with the tea tray. There were two cups on it and Tabitha asked idly:

‘Hullo, who's having tea with me?'

‘Mr van Beek, Sister. He popped his head round the kitchen door and asked if there was a cup to spare. Men need their tea,' she added comfortably. ‘I did a little bit of buttered toast for you both.' She beamed at Tabitha and turned round as there was a knock on the half-open door and Marius walked in. ‘That's right, sir, you come in and keep Sister company—there's nothing like a nice cuppa and a chat.' She gave them each a motherly smile and squeezed her plump person past Marius. ‘Too fat, aren't I?' she remarked cheerfully, ‘but my hubby says he can't miss a pound of me.'

She chuckled richly as she shut the door.

Tabitha had had plenty of time to acquire calm. She said now in the tones of a polite hostess: ‘Do sit down, Mrs Jeffs makes a lovely pot of tea and there's toast too.'

Marius settled himself in the only other chair in the little room.

‘Mrs Jeffs treats me with all the cosy warmth of an affectionate aunt,' he observed.

‘You don't mind, I hope? You see, she's not had any training,
only what we've been able to give her, so she's not very well up on hospital etiquette. She has a husband and sons and several grandchildren and I expect she forgets you're a senior member of the staff. She doesn't mean…'

He crossed one leg over the other, taking up most of the available space in doing so. ‘Why should I mind? Mrs Jeffs is a treasure and it's delightful when someone forgets who I am—there are those who don't.'

He looked at her with a little mocking smile and she went bright red. The mockery went, leaving only kindness. ‘I didn't mean to upset you, Tabby. You must find it difficult remembering to call me sir in hospital and then treating me just like anyone else outside it.'

Tabitha handed him the toast. ‘Well, yes, I suppose so. Are you glad to be back?'

‘Yes. Lecturing is all very well when you can do it in one place all the time. I keep forgetting where I am.'

She laughed. ‘Do you talk in English?'

‘Sometimes—sometimes German or Dutch, according to where I am. Why do you look so pale?' He bent an intense gaze upon her. ‘Aren't you well?'

Tabitha choked on her tea. ‘Yes, thank you. I—I didn't know I looked any different from usual. You've a long list for tomorrow.'

He studied her carefully before he replied. ‘All right, don't tell me if you don't want to,' he remarked mildly. ‘Yes, it is a big list, the first case will take quite a time, but that's the only one presenting any difficulties. George and I should polish off the rest quickly enough. You'll be on all day?'

She nodded. ‘Until the evening.'

They drank their tea in silence after that while Tabitha sought vainly for some topic of conversation. It was a pity that she could think of nothing at all to say; she wasn't in the least surprised when he got to his feet and said: ‘Well, thanks for the tea and the peace,' and was gone before she could so much as say goodbye.

The week passed and the weather, warm and bright, showed up the ward's old-fashioned drawbacks so that everybody, staff and patients alike, was inclined to be a little irritable. Marius came and went, good-natured as always, seemingly unaware of the tiresomely old-fashioned surroundings. But then he was free to go at the end of the day's work in the operating theatre; it was the nurses who had to stay, working in the out-of-date sluices, walking with tired feet up
and down the bare wooden floors. There would be, in some distant future, a splendid new hospital, equipped with every modern aid to nursing which could be devised. Tabitha, writing up the Kardex in her stuffy office, wondered how many years it would be before it was built and if she would still be at St Martin's then.