The Doctor's Girl. Бетти Нилс

by a fit of sneezing, necessitating the use of a handkerchief and nose-blowing.

      The doctor waited patiently until Mimi had resumed her look of patient suffering. He said mildly, ‘If you will sit up, I’ll listen to your chest.’

      He had a deep voice, pleasantly impersonal, and he appeared quite unimpressed by Mimi’s charms, ignoring her fluttering breaths and sighs, staring at the wall behind the bed while he used his stethoscope.

      ‘Clear as a bell,’ he told her. ‘A head cold. I suggest aspirin, hot drinks and some brisk walks in the fresh air—you are quite near Hyde Park, are you not? Eat whatever you fancy and don’t drink any alcohol.’

      Mimi stared up at him. ‘But I’m not well—I’m delicate; I might catch a chill…’

      ‘You have a head cold,’ he told her gravely, and Loveday had to admire his bedside manner. ‘But you are a healthy woman with a sound pair of lungs. You will be perfectly fit in a couple of days—less, if you do as I suggest.’

      Mimi said rudely, ‘I’ll decide that for myself. When will Dr Gregg be back? I don’t know your name…?’

      ‘Andrew Fforde.’ He held out a large hand. ‘I’m sure you will let me know if you don’t make a full recovery.’

      Mimi didn’t answer. Loveday went to the door with him and said gravely, ‘Thank you for coming, Doctor.’ She went downstairs with him, along the hall and opened the front door. As he offered a hand and bade her a grave good afternoon she was able to see that his eyes were blue.

      A sensible girl, she went first down to the kitchen, where Mrs Branch and Ellie were sitting over a pot of strong tea.

      ‘I’ve saved you a bite of lunch,’ said Mrs Branch, and pushed a mug of tea across the table. ‘That weren’t Dr Gregg. Ellie says ‘e looked a bit of all right?’

      ‘Dr Gregg’s partner, and he was nice. Miss Cattell has a head cold.’ Mrs Branch handed Loveday a cheese sandwich. ‘You’ll need that. Well, will she be going out this evening?’

      ‘I should think so,’ said Loveday in a cheese-thickened voice.

      Miss Cattell was in a splendid rage; the doctor was a fool and she would speak to Dr Gregg about him the moment he was back. ‘The man must be struck off,’ declared Mimi. ‘Does he realise that I am a private patient? And you standing there with the windows wide open, not caring if I live or die.’

      Mimi tossed a few pillows around. ‘Where have you been? You can get me a gin and tonic…’

      ‘Doctor said no alcohol.’

      ‘You’ll do as I say! Make it a large one, and tell Cook to make me an omelette and a salad. I want it now. I shall rest and you can get everything ready for this evening.’

      ‘You are going to the party, Miss Cattell?’

      ‘Of course I am. I don’t intend to disappoint my friends. I dare say I’ll be home early. I’ll ring for you if I am.’

      Another half an hour went by while Mimi was rearranged in her bed, offered her omelette and given a second gin and tonic. She finally settled, the windows shut and curtains drawn, for a nap. Loveday, free at last, went to her room on the floor above, kicked off her shoes and got onto the bed. Some days were worse than others…

      Miss Cattell was still asleep and snoring when Loveday crept into her room an hour later. In the kitchen once again, for yet another cup of tea, she thankfully accepted Mrs Branch’s offer of a casserole kept hot in the oven for her supper. Mimi wouldn’t leave the house before half past eight or nine o’clock, and there would be no chance to sit down to her supper before then.

      Later, offering more China tea and wafer-thin bread and butter, Loveday was ordered to display a selection of the dresses Miss Cattell intended to wear. She meant to outshine everyone there and, her cold forgotten, she spent a long time deciding. After the lengthy ritual of bathing, making up her face and doing her hair, and finally being zipped into a flimsy dress which Loveday considered quite indecent, she changed her mind. The flimsy dress was thrown in a heap onto the floor and a striking scarlet outfit was decided upon, which meant that shoes and handbag had to be changed too—and while Loveday was doing that Ellie was ordered to bring another gin and tonic.

      Loveday, escorting Mimi to a taxi, had the nasty feeling that the night was going to prove worse than the day had been. She was right; she was wakened at two in the morning by the noisy return of Miss Cattell and several of her friends, who thankfully didn’t stay, but that meant she had to go downstairs and help Mimi up to her room.

      This was no easy task; Mimi was too drunk to help herself, so that hoisting her upstairs and into her room was a herculean task. Loveday was strong even though she was small, but by the time she had rolled the lady onto her bed she decided that enough was enough. She removed Mimi’s shoes, covered her with a light blanket and went back to her own bed.

      In a few hours she had to get up again and face Miss Cattell’s rage at discovering herself still clad in scarlet crêpe, lying untidily under a blanket. Even worse than that, her dress was torn and stained; Loveday had never heard such language…

      When Miss Cattell was once more bathed, her makeup removed, and attired in a satin and lace confection, she declared that she would remain in bed for the rest of the day. ‘My cold is still very heavy.’ She snorted. ‘Cold indeed. That man had no idea of what he was talking about.’

      Loveday allowed her thoughts to dwell upon him, and not for the first time. She had liked him. If she were ever ill she would like him to look after her. She frowned. In different surroundings, of course, and in a nightie like Miss Cattell wore. She dismissed the thought as absurd, but as the day wore on it was somehow restful to think about him while Mimi’s cross voice went on and on.

      On her half-day off, she went to the public library and searched the papers and magazines, looking for jobs. ‘Computer skills…knowledge of a foreign language useful…anyone under the age of twenty-five need not apply…kitchen hands willing to work late nights…’ A splendid selection, but none of them would do. And they all ended with references required. She didn’t think that Miss Cattell would give her a reference, not one which would secure her a job.

      As it turned out she was quite right.

      It was Mrs Branch who told her that Miss Cattell had quarrelled with the man she had decided she would marry, which was possibly an excuse for her to be even more bad-tempered than usual, and solace herself by filling the house with her friends, going on a shopping spree and staying up until all hours.

      It was on the morning after one of Mimi’s parties that a bouquet of roses was delivered. They must be arranged at once, she ordered, and there was a particularly lovely vase into which they must go.

      Loveday arranged them carefully under her employer’s eye and bore them from room to room while Mimi decided where they should go. It was unfortunate that, getting impatient, she turned sharply and knocked the vase and flowers out of Loveday’s hands.

      ‘My vase,’ she screamed. ‘It was worth hundreds of pounds. You careless fool; you’ll pay for this…’ She gave Loveday a whack over one eye. ‘You’re fired. Get out now before I send for the police!’

      ‘If anyone sends for the police it will be myself,’ said Loveday. ‘It was your fault that I dropped the vase and you hit me. I shall leave at once and you can do what you like.’ She added, ‘I’m very glad to be going.’

      Miss Cattell went an ugly red. ‘You’ll not get a reference from me.’

      ‘I don’t expect one. Just a week’s wages in lieu of notice.’

      Loveday left Mimi standing there and went to her room and packed her few things tidily before going down to the kitchen.

      ‘I’m leaving,’ she told Mrs Branch. ‘I shall miss you and Ellie; you’ve both been very kind to me.’

      ‘You’re