The Fifth Day of Christmas. Betty Neels

brother not able to afford a nurse for his wife, or help of some sort?’

      She flushed. ‘Yes, of course he can, only I expect he feels it’s a waste of money to pay someone when there’s me.’

      ‘So you would have no feeling of—er—guilt if you were not to go?’

      Julia was a little surprised to find that she didn’t feel in the least guilty. She said briefly, ‘No.’

      ‘Then, Miss Pennyfeather, will you come? I know this is a most irregular way of offering a job, but in the rather peculiar circumstances in which we find ourselves…you trust me?’

      Julia looked startled. ‘Trust you? Of course I trust you.’ Her voice sounded as startled as her face. ‘I hope I shall suit your patient.’

      She hoped that he might give her a few more details, but it seemed that he didn’t intend doing so, not at that moment anyway, for he went on to ask her if she had a passport and would she mind being out of England for Christmas.

      She said a little breathlessly, for she was still surprised at herself for her rash acceptance of a job she knew nothing about, ‘Yes—I’ve a passport, it’s with my things in London. I’ve never been out of England at Christmas time, but I don’t suppose I shall mind.’

      ‘No? I daresay you’ll find it much the same as in England. We have the same family gatherings, but I don’t think we put quite such emphasis on presents. We have St Nikolaas, you see, earlier in the month.’

      She nodded, having only a slight inkling of what he was talking about. She had heard of St Nikolaas, naturally, and she knew all about his white horse and Black Peter, but that was already over and done with; it was almost Christmas. A Christmas she might enjoy much more than if she went to her brother’s.

      His voice cut through her thoughts with a gentle persistence she couldn’t ignore. ‘If I might have your attention, Miss Pennyfeather? We shall have to stay here until such time as the nurse, the doctor and the servants arrive, then I propose to drive down to London where you can collect your clothes and whatever else you want. We can cross from Harwich when it suits us and drive home from there.’

      Julia watched him put another log on the fire. ‘I don’t know where you live.’

      ‘Near Tilburg, a small town called Oisterwijk. I work at the hospital in Tilburg—I’m an anaesthetist. I also go once a week to Breda and s’Hertogenbosch and occasionally to Eindhoven. My father has a practice in which I am a partner and when he retires I shall take it over. My sister runs the household and I have two brothers younger than I—one is married, the youngest is still finishing his post-graduate course at a Utrecht hospital.’

      ‘And my patient?’

      He gave her a sharp glance and took so long in replying that she thought that probably he was deciding what to tell her. ‘Miss Marcia Jason,’ he said at length, ‘who was staying with us when she was taken ill. We are all very fond of her, and to get her completely well again is our dearest wish.’

      Julia ignored the pang she felt at his words, for she suspected that it had something to do with the doctor being fond of his patient… It was extremely foolish of her to get interested in him. She told herself that it was only because they had been thrown together in trying circumstances that she felt…she decided not to pursue her train of thought and looked up to see the doctor regarding her steadily. ‘And now,’ he invited, ‘tell me something of yourself.’

      To her surprise she did, although she hadn’t really meant to. Out it all came, her brother and Maureen and her home and how lovely the garden was in the summer and how awful London was if you hadn’t anywhere to go—and James. He didn’t speak, just sat and listened as she enlarged upon James and his tedious perfections. ‘He’s s-so right always,’ she ended, ‘and so dreadfully patient and good when I lose my temper. He says I’ll be better when we settle down: But I don’t want to settle down—not with him.’

      ‘Have you anyone in mind?’ queried her companion mildly.

      She said uncertainly, ‘No—oh, no,’ and knew in her heart that it wasn’t quite true. James and Maureen and her brother too had told her a great many times that there was no such thing as love at first sight; love came gradually, they had explained patiently, and Julia, an unwilling listener, had considered that it all sounded rather dull. She had said so, passionately, and they had smiled at her with pitying coolness. She said now, ‘I shouldn’t have said all that about James.’ She gave the doctor a direct look. ‘It was disloyal.’

      He smiled nicely. ‘No. As far as I can judge, you owe this James nothing, and you can be sure that I’ll forget everything about the tiresome fellow, and I suggest that you do too, otherwise you’ll find yourself living in a semi-detached with a great deal to do and a string of babies.’

      ‘But I like babies!’

      He closed his eyes. ‘So do I, Miss Pennyfeather. How delightful that we agree upon such an important aspect of life. If we persevere we shall undoubtedly find other things just as important.’

      Julia stared at him, her lovely eyes wide. As though it mattered if they agreed about anything! The fewer things the better, she was inclined to think, bearing in mind Miss Marcia Jason…

      ‘Is she pretty?’ she asked suddenly. The doctor looked as though he was laughing silently, but he had that sort of face, anyway.

      ‘Very,’ he answered without hesitation, ‘small and fair, with large blue eyes. She has an extremely intelligent brain.’

      ‘Has the polio affected her badly?’

      ‘Luckily the damage is slight. It’s a question of constant encouragement, that’s why I thought a nurse, someone sensible and her own age, would give her the stimulus she needs for the last few weeks of convalescence.’

      Julia nodded while she seethed. She had had her share of men friends, none of whom had ever called her sensible in that matter-of-fact voice. She gave him a cross look and went scarlet when he added, ‘Not that being sensible is your only attribute, my dear young lady, but it is the only one which applies in this case, I think.’ He got up, taking his time, and at the door he said, ‘Let us pray for good weather so that we may get away from here as soon as possible; I have never suffered so many draughts. Goodnight, Miss Pennyfeather.’

      It snowed again the next day, but late in the afternoon the weathered cleared and at teatime Hamish offered the information that the worst was over, and neither Julia nor Doctor van den Werff thought to question his pronouncement, for after all, he had lived in the Border country all his life, and he should know. As if to bear him out the radio in the doctor’s car proclaimed exactly the same state of affairs, if in somewhat more elaborate language, adding a rider to the effect that telephone communications were being reinstated as quickly as possible. But the telephone at Drumlochie House remained silent and no one arrived, which wasn’t surprising, for the snow plough hadn’t got so far.

      The snow plough, however, came the next morning and Doctor van den Werff went up to the road and brought the driver back for coffee. The road was clear, the man told them, at least a narrow lane of it, and once on the main road the going wasn’t too bad, although he warned them about skidding and went on to relate, to the delight of old Hamish, several unfortunate incidents which had occurred owing to the bad weather; he would have gone on for some time in like vein had not the doctor reminded him that he still had the stretch of road to Hawick to clear. When he had gone the doctor looked at his watch and remarked. ‘He should be there by midday or a little after. I should think we might expect someone by this evening. It is to be hoped that the telephone will be working again before then so that I can talk to Mary’s doctor—he should have had my message by now, that is, if Bert managed to get it to him.’

      The doctor didn’t telephone, but came in his car with Jane and Madge sitting inside it. By the look on their faces, Julia thought that perhaps the journey hadn’t been all that smooth, a supposition the doctor bore out with forceful language when he got out of the car. ‘But I got your message,’