The Fortunes of Francesca. Бетти Нилс

making toast. He looked up as she went in and gave her a cheerful grin. ‘Auntie’s OK. Resting, they said.’

      ‘You went to the phone box?’

      ‘No. Professor van der Kettener is quite a man, isn’t he? Left me his mobile phone. Told me to keep it until we got sorted out.’

      He took it from his pocket. ‘See? We can phone the hospital whenever we want to.’

      Franny was overcome with gratitude and a warm, comfortable feeling that someone was helping them, but, she added to that, only until they could help themselves.

      She looked much as usual when she presented herself in Lady Trumper’s sitting room. Opening Lady Trumper’s post, Franny was thankful that it was Saturday. She would go to the hospital in the afternoon, and later she and Finn would sit down together and decide what was best to be done.

      Lady Trumper, voice raised impatiently, wanted to know why she was so slow. ‘And you look as though you haven’t slept. I hope you’re not one of those girls who burns the candle at both ends?’

      Franny held her tongue. Her head ached and she was deeply worried about Auntie. A good cry would have helped, preferably on an understanding and reassuring chest. The professor would have done very nicely, only he didn’t like her.

      CHAPTER THREE

      AUNTIE was holding her own. Franny sat beside her bed in the intensive care unit, holding a limp hand and making cheerful remarks from time to time so that Auntie could see that she wasn’t worried about anything at all. And Auntie dozed, waking every now and then to ask anxious questions in a small, breathy voice.

      Professor van der Kettener had been to see her that morning, Sister told Franny, and had been pleased with her condition. There were to be more tests but, if they were satisfactory, he would operate as soon as possible.

      ‘And afterwards?’ Franny asked. ‘I mean, will my aunt be in need of constant nursing? Could she be left at all?’

      ‘There should be very little nursing needed, and I would suppose that she could be left safely for quite long periods.’ Sister looked at Franny. ‘What kind of work do you do, Miss Bowen?’

      ‘Well, at present I work for someone during the day, but I wondered if I should get a night job. I’ve got a brother who is still living at home, so he could be there at night and I’d be home during the day. I know I’d have to sleep for part of the time, but Auntie would know that she wasn’t alone.’

      ‘That seems quite a good idea. Are you trained for anything?’

      ‘I’ve had two years’ training as a nurse, but I gave it up to look after my aunt and run the house. I had to be home, you see…’ Franny added cheerfully, ‘I manage quite well and I’ve no doubt we can arrange something later on.’

      ‘There is no possibility of going back to hospital?’

      ‘Not for the moment.’

      Sister said thoughtfully, ‘Perhaps we might be able to get your aunt a bed in a long-stay hospital.’

      ‘She would die,’ said Franny simply. ‘Besides, she has given my brother and me a home, and now it’s my turn to look after her.’ She added firmly, ‘Everything will be all right, Sister, and I’m so happy to see her looking better. May I come again tomorrow? I’ll bring my brother with me.’

      That evening, sitting over their supper, she and Finn laid their plans. It would be three weeks before Auntie could return home.

      ‘So I’ll stay with Lady Trumper for as long as possible,’ said Franny, ‘but in the meantime I’ll look for a night job—perhaps a nursing home not too far away. The pay won’t be too bad; we can manage.’

      Finn began, ‘I could get a job—’

      ‘No, dear, that’s the last resort, and things aren’t all that desperate.’

      Which wasn’t quite true, she reflected uneasily, what with the gas bill due to be paid and the rent, modest though it was, to be paid, too. And food. Franny thought that she could save quite a bit on that. Finn needed a good cooked breakfast, but she could tell him that she was slimming. Just for a while, she told herself, until she could get some money saved.

      ‘We could write to Uncle William,’ suggested Finn.

      ‘Him? I’d rather die, and you know you would, too.’

      ‘But he was our mother’s brother—he can’t still be angry because she married Father. It’s years ago…’

      ‘Yes, but he swore that he never wanted to see her again and he would have nothing to do with us when they were killed in that accident. He always thought that Mother had married beneath her, although of course that wasn’t true. And remember how badly he has treated Auntie, just because she went to their wedding and kept in such close touch?’

      ‘But now Auntie is so ill surely he would help her?’

      ‘Finn, until we are absolutely desperate, I want nothing to do with Uncle William. He’s mean and disagreeable. When Mother and Father died and Auntie wrote and told him, he sent her letter back torn into little pieces. It’s a pity that Father hasn’t any family still living.’

      She began to collect up the supper dishes. ‘You are not to worry, Finn, everything’s going to be all right.’

      She didn’t tell him that she had called in at the supermarket on the way home and got herself a job stacking shelves from eight o’clock until ten each evening.

      Christmas was near enough for a demand for casual labour. They’d been only too glad to take her on and, when she explained that she might have to give up the job quickly, they had agreed to that too. The money wasn’t much, but if Auntie was going to be in hospital for at least three weeks she could save every penny of it.

      It was several days before Sister told her that her aunt was considered fit enough for an operation.