The Fateful Bargain. Бетти Нилс

in the gathering dusk to cook their supper and feed Podge, and her simple chores soothed her so that by the time Mr van Tecqx arrived at the gate she was prepared to hear whatever it was that he wanted to say.

      He had arrived earlier than she had expected—he had said he would fetch her in the evening, but it was barely four o’clock and she had just made the tea. Probably he had a date in town, she decided, and invited him to have a cup of tea which she assured him was ready, and she was also quite ready to leave.

      When he had drunk his tea and eaten a good deal of the cake she had made he still made no move to go. Instead, much to Emily’s surprise, he suggested that she might accompany him on a brief walk. ‘There are things which I have to say to you,’ he concluded.

      ‘Oh, well—all right. But don’t you have to get back to town? I thought that as you were here so early…’ She faltered at the smile and amused look on his face.

      ‘Of course I have to get back—so do you; that’s why I’m here so early.’

      He waited patiently while she got her coat, tied a scarf around her head and made sure that her father was comfortable, and then accompanied him down the path and into the lane.

      ‘Somewhere quiet?’ he suggested.

      ‘Down the lane to the end; there’s a bridle path we can take, it will bring us out on the other side of the Tollhouse—about twenty minutes or so.’

      ‘Excellent.’

      He had nothing to say for a minute or so and she prompted him with, ‘You want to strike a bargain?’

      He was walking at his own pace, so that she had difficulty in keeping up with him. ‘Yes. I’m prepared to operate upon your father—both hips—within the next week or two. Neither I nor the anaesthetist nor the private hospital where I propose he should be will require fees, although I do ask something in return. I have a young sister—the youngest of four—nineteen years old. She contracted polio last year and is making a slow recovery—too slow for her. She is impatient, given to bouts of rage and fits of depression. She is wearing my mother down, and a succession of nurses come and go with predictable rapidity. She needs someone of her own age, someone calm and kind and patient and at the same time firm. She is a dear girl, make no mistake, and she will make an almost complete recovery; but at the moment she has stopped trying; she needs something new to get her going again. Do I make myself clear?’

      ‘Oh, perfectly.’ They were walking along the bridle path side by side. ‘But, Mr Van Tecqx, I’m not trained—I have another year to do. I’m not free, even if I wanted to be.’

      ‘I can arrange that.’

      ‘I have no doubt of that,’ Emily’s voice was dry. ‘But what about me? Am I to start all over again once your sister is well again?’

      ‘No. I think it can be arranged that you will need to do only an extra six months to complete your training after you have done your third year.’

      ‘And if I don’t agree?’ She stopped to look at him. ‘You won’t operate?’

      His voice was silky. ‘My sister is very dear to me, Emily, and I imagine that your father is also dear to you. It amounts to this: You will help me and I shall help you.’

      ‘Yes, but there must be dozens of nurses who would do just as well as I would.’

      ‘Probably. Do you know dozens of surgeons who are willing to operate upon your father? Just think, Emily; within a few months he will have the use of his legs again; he will be able to walk to the village, go for rambles, even get a part-time job if he wishes—drive a car…’

      ‘It’s blackmail,’ she said fiercely.

      He agreed blandly. ‘What is more, you will have to trust me completely, Emily. I give you my word that everything needful will be done for your father and that when, eventually, you are ready to return to nursing, you will be given every opportunity to take your exams at the earliest possible moment.’

      They had gained the lane once more and were passing the Tollhouse; in another five minutes they would be back at her home. ‘Podge,’ said Emily suddenly.

      ‘I have a housekeeper who looks after me when I am in London. Would you consent to her looking after Podge while you are away?’

      ‘He might run away.’

      ‘Mrs Twig will take great care of him. He is not a very adventurous cat, is he? He has known hard times and he isn’t likely to leave a comfortable home.’

      She said sharply, ‘You make it all sound so easy.’

      ‘As it is.’ They had arrived back at the cottage and had paused outside its door.

      ‘How long will it take—the operation on Father and then his convalescence?’

      ‘He will be on his feet by Christmas.’

      ‘And your sister?’

      ‘That will depend largely on you. But you have my word that the moment she is able to cope with life once more, you shall return to England. You will, of course, be paid a salary; you will not suffer financially.’

      Emily was back at her old habit of doing sums in her head. She wouldn’t need to touch her savings—once she got back home she and her father would be able to have a holiday, a decent one at a hotel with no cheeseparing, and she would be able to live at the hospital again. She drew a deep breath. ‘All right, I’ll do it.’

      He held out a large hand and she put hers into it. Probably she would wake up in the night and regret what she was doing, but just at that moment the whole plan seemed very sensible and easy, and above all, exactly what she had hoped for for her father.

      ‘I shall operate at the end of next week; your father will have limited walking exercise after twenty-four hours, his stitches will come out after a week or ten days and he will be home again before three weeks. The joint should be normal at the end of three months. I’ll do the second hip then.’

      ‘Yes, but who’s going to look after him? I won’t be at home, will I? He can’t stay in the hospital for months!’

      ‘I know just the person to look after him. If you will agree, she can move in and look after your father. A retired nurse, middle-aged and a very good cook.’

      ‘But it will all cost so much—I mean, even without your fees.’

      ‘Ah, you forget, I shall deduct an agreed sum from your salary while you are looking after my sister.’ He smiled suddenly. ‘Trust me, Emily, I’m not offering you charity! You will pay for it—probably more than you bargain for—my sister won’t be easy. There is still time for you to change your mind.’

      She shook her head. ‘I shan’t do that. You see, it’s something I’ve wanted so badly for a long time—to have my father back on his feet again. I’ll do my best with your sister, really I will.’

      ‘I know that. Shall we tell your father the plans? He will probably have plans of his own to work out.’

      ‘Yes, all right. Do you want to leave as soon as possible?’

      ‘Well, I was rather hoping that I might share your supper.’ He contrived to sound both hungry and lonely, ‘I’ll talk to your father while you cook.’

      A couple of hours later, sitting beside Mr van Tecqx, being driven back to Pearson’s, Emily did her best to gather her scattered wits together into some sort of order. It all sounded so easy when he talked about it, but she saw snags at every turn. ‘Do I have to go to the office?’ she asked suddenly.

      ‘Eventually, but I will see the Senior Nursing Officer tomorrow morning; she will send for you, I dare say. You would like to stay till your father is home again, wouldn’t you? I can arrange for you to leave in about three weeks’ time, you will be able to see him settled with Mrs Philips. Don’t worry about getting to Holland; I will deal with that and then let you know.’