Small Slice of Summer. Бетти Нилс

a seat until the train had left Leytonstone, and it was a relief when she at last got out at Epping and went into the street. The crowds were a little less now, but the rush hour wasn’t quite over; track was still heavy coming from London. She was standing on the kerb waiting to cross the street when a group of people passing her unthinkingly shoved her off the curb into the path of the oncoming cars. She had a momentary glimpse of a sleek grey bonnet and heard the squeal of brakes as the bumper tipped her off balance. She fell, hoping desperately that her new out fit wouldn’t be ruined, aware as she fell that she had done so awkwardly and that her left ankle hurt most abominably. She had no chance to think after that, because Doctor Mourik van Nie was bending over her. ‘Well, I’m damned,’ he said, and then: ‘Does anything hurt? The bumper caught you and you fell awkwardly.’

      Letitia sat up, glad of his arm, comfortably firm, round her shoulders. ‘I was trying to save my dress. It’s my ankle, otherwise I’m fine.’

      A small crowd had collected, but the doctor took no notice of it, merely scooped her neatly off the ground and carried her to the car, where he sat her carefully on the front seat. ‘Let’s have a look,’ he suggested calmly, and slid her sandal off a decidedly swollen ankle. ‘A sprain, I fancy. Stockings or tights?’

      ‘Tights.’

      He produced a pair of scissors from a pocket. ‘Sorry about this—I’ll get you another pair,’ he promised as he made a neat slit and cut the nylon neatly way above the ankle. He was reaching for his bag in the back of the car when the policeman arrived. Letitia sat back, listening to the doctor’s quiet answers to the officer’s questions, the eager chorus of witnesses, anxious to allow no blame to rest upon him, and her own voice, a little wobbly, giving her name and address and where she was going and why. By the time things had been sorted out the ankle had been firmly bandaged and her head was beginning to ache. She didn’t listen to what the doctor said to the policeman—indeed, she barely noticed when he got in beside her and started the car; she was suddenly sleepy. The car was comfortable to the point of luxury; she closed her eyes.

      They were almost at Dalmers Place when she woke up again; she recognized the road almost at once. ‘I was going to my aunt in Epping,’ she began worriedly. ‘My days off, you know.’

      ‘You went to sleep—the best thing for you. Does she expect you?’

      ‘No.’

      ‘Then there’s nothing to worry about. I’m taking you to Dalmers Place. You’re a friend of Georgina, aren’t you—and Julius? They’ll be delighted to put you up for the night.’

      She turned to look at him, quite shocked. ‘Oh, you can’t do that—invite me there without them knowing, whatever will they say? If you’d stop…oh, dear, we’ve gone through Bishop’s Stortford, haven’t we? Could you go a little out of your way to Saffron Walden? There’s a station there—I could get on a train back to Epping.’

      ‘Hopping all the way? Don’t be absurd. Besides, I feel responsible for you—I knocked you down.’

      ‘But it wasn’t your fault, and really I can’t allow you…’

      He interrupted her in a placid voice. ‘Dear girl, what a mountain you are making out of this little molehill! And you know that you’re dying to get to bed and nurse that painful ankle.’

      She had to laugh a little then and he gave her a quick sideways glance and said: ‘That’s better,’ and a moment later slowed the car to allow Mr Legg, who did the garden and lived in the lodge at Dalmers Place, to come out and open the gate for them, and then drove, still slowly, up the short, tree-lined drive to the house where he stopped before its door, told her to stay where she was, got out, and went round the side of the house.

      Georgina looked up as he reached the terrace. ‘Hullo,’ she greeted him cheerfully. ‘We were just beginning to wonder what had happened to you.’

      ‘I’ve brought someone with me, I hope you won’t mind—it’s Tishy.’

      He was quick to see the quick look his friends exchanged and went on smoothly, ‘I could take her on…’ to be cut short by Georgina’s fervent: ‘No, Jason—we’re delighted, really, only Julius and I were talking about her—oh, quite casually,’ she avoided her husband’s twinkling eye, ‘and it’s funny, isn’t it, how when you talk about someone they often turn up unexpectedly. Where have you left her?’

      ‘In the car. She sprained her ankle—I knocked her down.’

      Georgina was already leading the way. ‘Oh, how unfortunate!’ she exclaimed, meaning exactly the opposite. She glanced at Julius over her shoulder and when Jason wasn’t looking, pulled a face at him. ‘But we must thank Providence that it was you, if you see what I mean.’

      CHAPTER TWO

      LETITIA SAT in the car, feeling a fool. Her ankle throbbed, so did her head, and she had been pitchforked into a situation which had been none of her doing. Probably Georgina would be furious at having an unexpected guest at less than a moment’s notice. True, she had been to Dalmers Place before, but only in the company of her sister Margo—it was Margo who was Georgina’s friend. She sought feverishly for a solution to her problem and came up with nothing practical, and when the three of them came round the house and crossed the grass towards the car, she found herself studying their faces for signs of annoyance. She could see none; Georgina was looking absolutely delighted and her husband was smiling, and as for Doctor Mourik van Nie, he wore the pleased look of one who had done his duty and could now wash his hands of the whole tiresome affair.

      Georgina reached the car first. ‘Tishy,’ she exclaimed, ‘you poor girl—does it hurt very much? You shall go straight to bed and the men shall take another look at it—you look as though you could do with a drink, too. Thank heaven it was Jason who knocked you down and not some stranger who wouldn’t have known what to do.’ She paused for breath and Letitia said quickly: ‘I’m awfully sorry—I mean, coming suddenly like this and being so awkward.’ Her eyes searched Georgina’s face anxiously. ‘You don’t mind?’

      ‘Of course not, it’ll be fun once that ankle stops aching.’ She stood aside while Julius said Hullo in a welcoming way and Jason said matter-of-factly: ‘I’ll carry you in.’

      ‘I can hobble, I’m sure I can.’

      He grinned. ‘I shouldn’t bet on that if I were you.’ He had opened the car door and swept her carefully into his arms. ‘Which room?’ he asked Georgina.

      ‘Turn left at the top of the stairs, down the little passage, the second door.’

      Letitia wondered if the doctor found her heavy; apparently not, for he climbed the staircase at a good pace and with no huffing or puffing, found her room without difficulty and sat her down in a chair. ‘Georgina will help you undress,’ he told her with impersonal kindness, ‘and we’ll come back later and take another look at the ankle.’ He had gone before she could frame her thanks.

      Half an hour later she was sitting up in bed, nicely supported by pillows and with the bedclothes turned back to expose her foot; by now the ankle was badly swollen and discoloured. The men came in together with Georgina and Letitia wasn’t sure whether to be pleased or not when neither gave her more than a cursory glance before bending over the offending joint, which they agreed was nothing more than a partial tear of the ligament and hardly justified an X-ray. ‘We’ll strap it,’ they told her. ‘You’ll have to rest it for three or four days, then you can start active use—a couple of weeks and you’ll be as good as new.’

      ‘A couple of weeks? But I’ve only got two days off!’ She was appalled at their verdict.

      ‘Sick leave?’ suggested Doctor Mourik van Nie. He sounded positively fatherly.

      She stared at him; they were all being very kind, but she was spoiling their evening. She said quickly: ‘If I could go back to St Athel’s with you in the morning—there’s a list at nine o’clock, isn’t there?—I could see someone. That’s if you