Читать книгу Uncertain Summer - Бетти Нилс - Страница 8

THE days were incredibly dull; it wasn’t so bad while she was on duty, for the Accident Room, whatever else it was, could hardly be called dull. But off duty was another matter, and for the first three days she heard nothing from Laurens either. It was on the fourth morning that she had a letter from him, a brief, cheerful missive which told her nothing of the things she wanted to know. She waited two days before answering it and then wrote a stilted page or so in reply, and the following day was sorry she had done so, for a reed basket full to the brim with roses arrived for her with a card inside saying: ‘To my gipsy from Laurens.’ She felt better after that and better still when he telephoned that evening. He sounded in tearing spirits and her own spirits soared, to erupt skyhigh when he asked:

‘Will you give in your notice tomorrow, Serena?—I’ll be coming over in a month’s time to collect the car, and I want to bring you back with me.’

She gasped a little, then: ‘You mean that, Laurens? You truly mean that?’

‘My darling creature, don’t be so timid. Will you do it? I don’t approve of working wives, you know.’

It wasn’t quite a proposal, but it was probably all she would ever get. She agreed breathlessly and was rewarded by his: ‘Good girl, I’ll tell you the date and so on next time I ring up. ‘Bye for now.’

She replaced the receiver because he hadn’t waited for her to wish him goodbye—perhaps, she thought, he felt as excited as she was. She went up to her room, and while her common sense lay buried under a mass of excited thoughts, she wrote out her resignation.

She hadn’t realized that Matron was going to be so surprised and so openly critical. She had accepted the resignation, of course; there was nothing else she could do, but she had questioned Serena’s wisdom while she did so.

‘You’re a sensible young woman,’ she told a surprised Serena, ‘and certainly old enough to know what you’re doing. But do you think you have given the matter enough thought?’ And when Serena had nodded emphatically, went on: ‘At least I will say this, if things should not turn out as you expect them to, you may rest assured that there will always be some kind of a job for you here—perhaps not in this hospital, but in one of the annexes.’

Serena had thanked her nicely, knowing that Miss Shepherd had her welfare at heart, knowing too, that nothing would persuade her to work in one of the annexes—Geriatrics, Convalescent, the dental department, Rehabilitation; she could think of nothing she disliked more, and in any case there was no need for her to think about them at all, for the likelihood of her returning to hospital was a laughable impossibility. She even smiled kindly at Miss Shepherd because the poor dear was all of forty-five and there was no wonderful young man waiting for her to be his bride, then thanked her politely and went back to her department and in due course, to the dining-room for her dinner, where her appearance, hugely enhanced by excitement and happiness, drew so many comments from her friends that she felt compelled to tell them her news, so happy in the telling that she didn’t notice the worried little frown on Betsy’s face nor the look she and Joan exchanged.

It was Joan who spoke after the first babble of congratulations had died down. ‘Serena,’ she began, ‘are you sure? I mean, you don’t know anything about his home or his family and you might hate Holland.’

‘Well, I’ve thought about that, and I don’t see how I’m to know unless I go there and see for myself.’ She pinkened faintly. ‘I mean, we—I can always change my mind.’

Joan agreed with her a little too hastily and Betsy said: ‘Your parents, I bet they’re surprised.’

‘I haven’t told them yet. I told them about Laurens coming in and—and how nice he was, and of course they met his cousin.’

‘Oh, yes, I forgot. Though they’re not a bit alike, are they?’

Serena spooned sugar into her post-prandial cup of tea. ‘Heavens, no,’ she agreed, and just for a brief moment remembered the gentle touch of Gijs van Amstel’s hands on the battered baby. She had never seen Laurens working, of course, but he would be just as kind—and he was a good deal more entertaining. She smiled and someone said: ‘Oh, lord, we’ll have to give you a wedding present.’

Serena put down her cup. ‘No, oh no, you mustn’t—I don’t know when—there’s nothing settled.’

‘Time to save up,’ said someone else. ‘Give us plenty of warning, Serena.’

They all laughed and presently dispersed to their various duties, and Serena, caught up in the usual afternoon rush, had no time to think about herself. She got off duty late too, so that the half-formed idea that she would write home and tell her parents came to nothing. Time enough, she argued as she got ready for bed, when she went home the following weekend.