No Need to Say Goodbye. Бетти Нилс

by his calm, ‘That would be delightful,’ and his speedy removal of his vast person from his car. He came and opened the door for her, smiling down at her so that she found it quite impossible to say anything more.

      Inside the house they went into the sitting-room, where signs of their departure were much in evidence, with packing cases in corners and books piled tidily. The tea-tray was on a corner of the table by the window, and Zoë said, ‘There is plenty in the pot…’ and raised her voice to call, ‘…Christine, bring that cake Louise made yesterday, and find Mike; tea is made.’ She smiled at Louise. ‘I’ll pour, Louise, you look tired. How come you met Dr van der Linden?’

      ‘He lives at Much Hadham…’

      Christine and Mike had joined them. The three younger members of the family turned surprised faces to their guest and chorused happily, ‘How utterly super—do you live near Ivy Cottage? Are you married? Did you know Great-Aunt Payne?’

      Louise’s quiet voice brought them all to a halt. ‘My dears, I hardly think that Dr van der Linden would wish to answer you.’

      Zoë said at once, ‘Oh, sorry, we didn’t mean to be rude. It was awfully kind of you to bring Louise back, though; it’s saved her hours. Have some of this cake; she is a marvellous cook.’

      Louise was astonished to see him eat a slice with evident appetite, after the splendid tea they had had, too. Of course, he was a very large man; moreover he was kind; he was probably eating it for fear of hurting her feelings. The conversation centred round the trials of moving house, enlivened by Dusty’s antics and Mike’s high-flown ideas as to what he intended to do with the attic at Ivy Cottage. The doctor sat back at his ease, listening with interest and occasionally putting in a question. It was almost an hour before he rose, saying that he had an appointment and would have to go. Louise thanked him again politely as he took his leave, but it was Zoë who went out to the car with him, and stood talking by it for a few more minutes.

      Louise, glancing out of the window, frowned thoughtfully. Dr van der Linden and Zoë seemed taken with each other, but her sister was very young, he must be almost twice her age. Besides, he hadn’t answered their questions, had he? She supposed that she could find out easily enough at the hospital if he was married or not, but that was something she would never do. In any case, she told herself they were very unlikely to see much of him; once they had moved the two youngest would be at school, Zoë would get a job and she would, with luck, have a job in Stevenage. With Zoë earning as well as herself, and no rent to pay, there would be more money; Zoë would be able to have some pretty clothes and join a tennis club, get to know young people of her own age. Louise, her thoughts busy with the future, turned away from the window and went along to the kitchen to see what there was for supper.

      She made the journey to Ivy Cottage again the next day; she was on duty that night, but it was worth going for the morning at any rate; she was sure she would have time to clean out another bedroom, and perhaps someone would come and buy the bed.

      Her hopes were realised; the bedroom was a small room and there wasn’t much furniture in it. She had washed the paint and cleaned the walls ready for the painting they would do the next time they came, and was consulting with Mr Baxter about the Aga, when an elderly couple thumped the knocker.

      They had a daughter getting married, they explained, and the bed might do as a wedding present. Louise led them upstairs and watched patiently while they tried the springs, examined the mattress and, finally, offered her rather less than she had asked. She accepted without demur; the money would come in very handy, and the bed would be out of the way. They had a van outside; the bed was dismantled and stowed safely, and both parties parted on the best of terms, well satisfied. If the tables and chairs were sold as easily there would be money enough to have the kitchen modernised a little: she went straight back to Mr Baxter and sounded him out upon the matter. He had just the thing, he assured her, some cupboards and shelves someone had ordered and then cancelled at the last minute. Going cheap; he mentioned a price well within her budget and she sighed with relief; something on the floor and some curtains at the window, and at least one room in the little house would be ready for use.

      She had time for a brief nap before she went on duty, and when Dr van der Linden encountered her as he left the women’s medical ward, she looked her usual self, unshakeably calm and as neat as a new pin. His ‘Good evening, Sister,’ was uttered with impersonal politeness before he went on to discuss with her the condition of one of his patients; that he had sat and watched her cleaning furniture in an old apron and with her hair anyhow, smacked of the nonsensical, and from his manner it seemed plain to her that he had dismissed it from his mind. And why not? common sense demanded of her, while at the same time she felt a decided peevishness at his lack of friendliness.

      She didn’t see him again until she was on the point of leaving the hospital five days later, with the prospect of two nights off duty, her head full of plans as to what to do first at Ivy Cottage. The last of these days fell, most fortunately, on a Saturday, which meant that all four of them would be able to work there. The sitting-room, she decided, as she changed out of her uniform; if they could do the walls and paintwork, then the carpets could be laid, and in the meantime she could start on the dining-room. They would have to move out of the house in Bick Street in less than a week’s time… She started downstairs on her way out, deep in thought.

      Dr van der Linden followed her silent-footed, caught up with her on the first landing, and asked, ‘Nights off? Do you plan to go to Much Hadham today? I shall be driving there this morning. Can I give you a lift? Around ten o’clock?’

      She had stopped to look at him, tired eyes from her beautiful face searching his own blue eyes, half hidden under their heavy lids.

      ‘Thank you,’ she said at length. ‘I did intend going there today, and I’d be grateful.’

      ‘Good.’ He spoke briskly. ‘I will be outside your place; if there is anything to take down there, it can go in the boot.’

      Too good an opportunity to miss; Louise had a number of cardboard boxes and plastic bags tidily lined up in the little hall by the time the doctor arrived. She had seen Mike and Christine off to school, eaten a hasty breakfast with Zoë, attended to Dusty’s wants, and had a shower, so that when she opened the door to him she appeared ready for a day’s work at the cottage. He gave her a searching glance, accepted the coffee she offered, fended off Dusty’s pleased advances, and sat down for all the world as though he had the morning to waste. Louise, in a fever to get on with the manifold jobs awaiting her, and aware that if she sat still for any length of time she would fall asleep, drank her own coffee so fast that she scalded her tongue, and then sat watching him take his time over his own drink. When they were at last in the car with her boxes and bags stowed and Dusty, to his delight, on the back seat—for as Dr van der Linden had pointed out he might just as well spend the day at Ivy Cottage since they would be returning at around five o’clock and could be conveyed without trouble—he observed casually that he for his part had not the least objection to her closing her eyes and taking a refreshing nap.

      ‘Thank you,’ said Louise frostily, still nettled at his tardiness, ‘I am not in the least sleepy.’ And, within seconds of saying it, had nodded off.

      At Ivy Cottage he wakened her gently, took the door key from her and went to open the front door. He deposited her bundles in the hall and led Dusty to the safety of the little back garden. Which gave her time to become thoroughly awake. As he ushered her from the car, he remarked in his calm way, ‘It is not of the least use advising you to get on to the nearest bed and sleep, although that is what you need more than anything else. Fortunately you are a well-built girl with plenty of stamina, even if you are of a managing disposition. I see Mr Baxter is already at work, and Ted Poolley is on his knees measuring the stairs. I have put Dusty in the garden.’

      ‘You have been very kind. I am sorry I was snappy, it’s just that there is so much to do…’

      ‘And that reminds me,’ interpolated the doctor, ‘my gardener’s grandson is staying with him—a lad of fifteen or so; he has been helping around the garden, but there is very little for him to do there at the moment and he is at a loose