Fate Is Remarkable. Бетти Нилс

told me this morning.’ She frowned reflectively. ‘They knows what they’re doing, I suppose? Them young ones?’

      ‘Yes, Mrs Brown.’ Sarah sounded very positive. ‘They’re all qualified doctors and they’re here to carry out the consultant’s wishes.’

      ‘So all them things ‘e did to me ‘e was told ter do by the doc?’

      Sarah nodded. ‘That’s right. Now is there anything I can do for you while you’re here? Was anyone going to get your room ready for you to go back?’

      The old lady looked astonished. ‘Lor’, no, ducks. ‘Oo’d ‘ave the time? Though I daresay someone’ll pop in and do me bed and get me in some stuff.’

      Sarah made a noncommittal reply to this remark, and made a mental note to go round to Phipps Street one evening and make sure that there really was someone.

      She didn’t see Steven again until Tuesday morning, when Mr Binns had an extra OP clinic. They had barely exchanged cool good mornings, when he was called away to the wards, and didn’t return until all but two of the patients had gone. It was already past twelve, and they were behind time. Dr van Elven had a vast clinic at one-thirty. For once she was glad of Mr Binns’ briskness; he took no time at all over the last patient—a post-operative check-up—thanked Sarah with faint pomposity, and hurried away with Steven beside him. She sent the nurses to dinner, had a few words with Staff, who had come on duty to take the gynae clinic, and then got on with the business of substituting Dr Binns’paraphernalia for that of Dr van Elven. She had almost finished when Steven returned.

      He said abruptly as he came in, ‘Where the hell were you going on Saturday with old van Elven?’

      Sarah’s heart gave an excited jump. So he minded! She stacked the case notes neatly and consulted her long list of names before she replied, in a calm voice she hardly recognised as her own:

      ‘Is it any business of yours? And if you refer to Dr van Elven, he’s not at all old, you know.’

      He gave an ugly laugh. ‘You’re a sly one—pretending to be such a little puritan and playing the hurt madam with me! How long have you been leading him by the nose? He’s quite a catch.’

      He was standing quite near her. She put down her list and slapped his face hard, and in the act saw Dr van Elven standing at the doorway. As he came into the room he said quietly, ‘Get out.’ His voice had the menace of a knife, although his face was impassive.

      Sarah watched Steven standing irresolute, one hand to a reddened cheek, the look of surprise still on his face, and then turn on his heel and go. She had never expected him to brazen it out anyway. Dr van Elven was the senior consultant at St Edwin’s, and could, if he so wished, use his authority. She didn’t look at him now, but mumbled, ‘I’m late for dinner …’

      ‘Sit down,’ he said placidly, and she obeyed him weakly. She had gone very white; now her face flamed with humiliation and temper—mostly temper. She shook with it, and gripped her hands together in her lap to keep them steady. Dr van Elven went over to the desk in a leisurely fashion and put down his case. He said, not looking at her, in a most reasonable voice:

      ‘You can’t possibly go to the dining room in such a towering rage.’

      He was right, of course. Sarah stared at her hands and essayed to speak.

      ‘You know about me and Steven.’

      ‘Yes. But I see no need to enlarge upon what must be a painful subject.’

      Sarah choked on a watery chuckle, ‘I’m behaving like a heroine in a Victorian novel, aren’t I?’ She gave him a sudden waspish look. ‘I’m furious!’ she snapped, as though he hadn’t commented upon her feelings already. He said ‘Yes,’ again and gave her a half smile, then bent over his desk, leaving her to pull herself together. Presently he remarked:

      ‘That’s better. We have a large clinic, I believe. How fortunate—there’s nothing like hard work for calming the nerves. Might I suggest that you go to your dinner now? I should like to start punctually.’

      She got up at once, unconsciously obedient to his quietly compelling voice. ‘Yes, of course, sir. I’ve been wasting time.’

      She fled through the door, feeling that somehow or other he had contrived to make the whole episode not worth bothering about. She even ate her dinner, aware that he would ask her if she had done so when she got back and would expect a truthful answer.

      There was not time to ask her anything, however. When she returned the benches were overflowing. The air rang with a variety of coughs, and as it was raining outside, the same air was heavy with the damp from wet coats and the redolence of sopping garments which those who had arrived first had had the forethought to dry out upon the radiators. Sarah went swiftly into the consultants’ room, saw that Dr van Elven was already sitting at his desk, adjusted her cuffs and said in her usual serene tones:

      ‘Shall I fetch in the first one, sir? Mr Jenkins—check-up after three weeks as in-patient.’

      He gave her a brief, impersonal glance, nodded and returned to his writing. ‘I’ve seen his X-rays—I’ll want some blood though. Will you get Dr Coles on to it?’

      She fetched in Mr Jenkins, waited just long enough to make sure that she wouldn’t be wanted for a moment, and flew to find the Medical Registrar. Dr Coles was tucked away in the little room near the sluice, going through Path. Lab. forms and various reports, so that later, when Dr van Elven wanted to know some detail about one of his patients, he would know the answer. He looked up as she went in and said pleasantly:

      ‘Hullo, Sarah. Is the chief already here? I’m still choking down facts and figures.’ He grinned and she smiled at him warmly. He was a nice man, not young any more, and apparently not ambitious, for he seemed content to stay where he was, working in hospital. He got on well with the consultant staff and was utterly reliable and invariably good-natured. He was reputed to be very happily married and was apt to talk at length about his children, of whom he was very proud. He got up now and followed her back past the rows of patients. Mr Jenkins was still describing the nasty pain that caught him right in the stomach, and Dr van Elven was listening to him with the whole of his attention. When the old man paused for breath, though, the doctor said, ‘Hullo, Dick’, and smiled at his Registrar. ‘What did you make of Mr Jenkins when he was in?’

      The two men became immersed in their patient, leaving her free to make sure that the one to follow was ready and waiting in the dressing room, and that everything that Dr van Elven might want was to hand.

      The afternoon wore on, the small room gradually acquiring the same damp atmosphere as the waiting hall. Sarah switched on the electric fan, which stirred up the air without noticeable improvement. She switched it off again and Dr van Elven said:

      ‘Don’t worry, Sister,’ and then, surprisingly, ‘I am a little ashamed that I can drive myself home, warm, and dry for I imagine, from their appearance, that quite a number of my patients haven’t even the price of a bus fare, and even if they have, won’t be able to get on a bus.’ He caught her eye and smiled. ‘How about tea?’

      Over their brief cup, the men discussed the next case and Dr Coles told them about his eldest son, who was doing rather well at school. It was while Sarah was piling their cups and saucers on to a tray that Dr van Elven remarked quietly, ‘Mrs Brown tells me that you visit her regularly, Sister. That is good of you.’

      Sarah whipped the next patient’s notes before him and said in a matter-of-fact voice, ‘Well, I don’t think she has any relations or friends to come and see her, sir. And you know how awful it is for a patient to be the only one in the ward without visitors.’

      He eyed her thoughtfully. ‘I imagine it must be a miserable experience. She is responding very well, you know. I must see about getting her home.’

      Sarah was on the way to the door. She paused and looked back at him.

      ‘How’s Timmy?’ she asked.

      ‘The