Small Slice of Summer

There was a chorus of relieved agreement before someone wanted to know if the rest of them had seen the trouser suits in Peter Robinson’s, and the talk turned, as it so often did, to clothes.

Letitia was on duty at eight o’clock the next morning. The list was heavy enough to begin with, petering out after dinner time, so that by four o’clock she was clearing the recovery room in the pleasant anticipation of getting off duty punctually at half past four. As indeed she was. She wandered through the hospital on the way to her room; several of her friends were off duty too, they might have a few sets of tennis, it was a lovely day still. She stopped to look out of a window and saw Doctor Mourik van Nie getting into a car—a splendid BMW convertible. She studied its sleek lines and admired the discreet grey of its coachwork before she turned away, wondering where he was going.

Jason Mourik van Nie was going to Dalmers Place. An hour or so later he joined Julius van den Berg Effert and Georgina on the terrace behind the house. Polly, their very small daughter, was almost asleep on her father’s knee and Georgina exclaimed in relief as he walked out of the french windows. ‘There you are— Polly refuses to go to bed until you’ve kissed her good night.’ She smiled at her husband’s friend. ‘If you’ll do that right away. I’ll whisk her off to bed and Julius shall get us all a drink.’

Jason smiled at her, kissed his small goddaughter, exchanged a brief ‘Dag’ and sat down.

‘Stay where you are, darling,’ said Julius, ‘I’ll pop this young woman into her bed and bring the drinks as I come back.’

His wife gave him a warm smile. ‘Tell Nanny I’ll be up in ten minutes unless Ivo starts to cry.’ Her smile widened and Julius grinned back at her; Ivo was just two months old, a tiny replica of his father, whereas little Polly was like her mother with a gentle prettiness and most of her charm. She wound a small arm round her father’s neck now and smiled sleepily at him as he carried her into the house.

Jason watched them go. ‘Julius is a lucky man,’ he said quietly. ‘You, and the enchanting Polly, and now Ivo.’

‘I’m lucky too,’ Georgina told him, ‘I’ve got Julius.’

‘I hope someone says that about me one day,’ he observed. ‘May I smoke my pipe?’

She nodded. ‘Of course. Did you have a busy day?’

‘So-so. One Commando to start with and a couple of abdominals, then we petered out with appendices. Snell was operating again. Oh—Theatre Sister sent her love, I’ve forgotten what she said her name was and I couldn’t identify her very well; she was gowned up and masked, the only face I’ve seen clearly in these last few days was in the recovery room—quite unremarkable, though—it belongs to someone called Tishy.’

Georgina smiled. ‘Little Tishy. She’s Margo’s young sister—she must be twenty-three, I suppose, she qualified six months ago. You didn’t like her?’

Jason stretched his long legs and studied his enormous, beautifully shod feet. ‘I hadn’t really thought about it,’ he admitted carelessly. ‘Mousey girls with heavy frowns aren’t quite my line.’

‘Oh, she doesn’t frown all the time,’ stated Georgina quickly, ‘it’s only because you’re a man,’ and as her companion’s brows shot up: ‘She was almost engaged to the Medical Registrar, but he switched his interest to a dashing blonde on Orthopaedics—I daresay she was more accommodating. I don’t know what he said to poor little Tishy, but ever since then she’s shied away from anything male under fifty.’

‘Julius too?’

‘Julius is thirty-seven,’ his loving wife reminded him, ‘but Margo is a friend of mine and of course I know Tishy too; she’s been here once or twice, so she knows Julius quite well as well as working for him. He takes care to be casually friendly, bless him. She’s a splendid nurse.’

She turned her head and her eyes lighted up as they always did when she saw her husband.

‘Sorry I was so long,’ he apologized as he set the tray of drinks down. ‘Great-Uncle Ivo telephoned—wants to know when we’re going over to Bergenstijn. I told him we’d be there before the summer’s over. The theatre’s closing at the end of July, we’ll go then if you would like that, my love.’

Georgina agreed happily. ‘Lovely, Julius—we can all go. Cor and Beatrix and Franz-Karel can drive them over. Dimphena will be with Jan, I suppose, but they could come over…’

Jason studied his glass. ‘What a quiverful you took on when you married Julius,’ he observed idly, ‘four cousins of assorted ages.’

‘Don’t forget Polly and Ivo. But the others—they’re not small any more; Karel’s a post-graduate and almost finished with hospital, and Franz is sixteen, that only leaves Beatrix and Cor, and now Dimphena is married there’s quite a gap.’

‘Which we shall doubtless fill within the next few years,’ commented her husband softly.

‘I’m envious,’ said Jason slowly, and Georgina threw him a quick glance.

‘No need,’ she told him kindly, ‘you only have to lift a finger for all the prettiest girls to come running.’

‘That’s all very well as well as being grossly exaggerated, but none of these same girls had ever succeeded in convincing me that I can’t live without her.’

Georgina got up. ‘One day there’ll be a girl,’ she assured him, ‘though probably she won’t be pretty or come running. I’m going to see to Ivo.’

She ran indoors and the two men sat in silence for a few minutes, Presently Jason spoke. ‘As I said to Georgina just now, you’re a lucky devil, Julius.’

‘Yes, I know.’ He added thoughtfully, ‘I was thirty-three when I first met Georgina.’

‘A reminder that I’m thirty-five and still haven’t met my paragon?’ They both laughed before plunging into a discussion as to how the day had gone in theatre, absorbed in their world of anaesthetics.

It was later that evening as Georgina sat before her dressing table brushing her hair that she said suddenly: ‘Julius, can you think of a good reason for having Tishy down here?’

Her husband’s eyes met hers in the mirror. ‘Tishy?’ he queried mildly. ‘Why Tishy, darling?’

‘She could be exhausted,’ went on Georgina, taking no notice, ‘worn out with work and needing a few days’ rest…’

Julius had become adept at reading his wife’s mind. ‘She would have to work fast.’

Georgina gave him a doubtful look. ‘That won’t do, then,’ she stated positively. ‘I daresay she can’t bear the sight of him, and he’s hardly noticed her.’

‘My love, is it wise to play providence? They’re a most unlikely pair; just because Tishy is getting over hurt pride and Jason chooses to remain a carefree bachelor it doesn’t mean that they’ll fall into each other’s arms.’

‘No, I can see that, but it would be nice. If we just gave them the chance…’

But as it turned out there was no need of that.

Two days later, with the list almost over for the day, Letitia was starting on the clearing up, her mind happily occupied with plans for her days off, due to start in the morning. Two days, she mused, and almost no money so she wouldn’t be able to go home, but she could go to Epping, where an elderly aunt lived—no telephone, unfortunately, but Aunt Maud never minded an unexpected visitor for a couple of days. She had a dear little house on the edge of the forest and it would be pleasant after the heat and rush of London and the hospital. If Margo had been there they could have gone together, but she was on holiday, up in Scotland with friends. Letitia nodded her head in satisfaction, glad that she had made up her mind, and looked impatiently at the theatre doors; the case should have been finished by now, it was hernia and shouldn’t have to stay long in her care. She looked at the clock, calculating how soon she could get away that evening, then turned round to see who it was who had just come in from the outer door.

It was the very last person she wanted to see; Mike Brent, the Medical Registrar, lounging in, very sure of himself, his good-looking face wearing a smile which not so very long ago would have melted her heart and now, rather to her surprise, made no impression upon it at all.

‘Hullo,’ he said, ‘how’s little Tishy? Haven’t seen you around for quite a few weeks—I was beginning to think you might have run away.’

She eyed him steadily. ‘Why should you think that?’

He shrugged his shoulders. ‘Oh, well—no hard feelings.’

She arranged a recovery tray just so before she answered him. ‘I’m busy, there’s a case…’

He interrupted her impatiently. ‘Oh, come off it, Tishy. To tell you the truth I’ve been a bit worried; didn’t like to think of you feeling jilted and all that, you know—after all, I couldn’t help it if you took me seriously, could I? And you’re a bit out of date, aren’t you. I mean, the odd weekend doesn’t mean a thing…’

‘It does to me.’ Neither of them heard the theatre door open, Doctor Mourik van Nie’s voice startled them both. ‘Perhaps if I might break into this most interesting discussion on your love life?’ he suggested placidly, and turned to Letitia to study her furious face with gentle amusement.

‘This next case coming in within a few minutes—she’s not so good.’ He ignored the other man completely and began to give her instructions; by the time he had finished Mike had gone.

She boiled with temper while she dealt competently with her patient, damping down her furious thoughts so that she might concentrate on the matter in hand. Only some half an hour later, the patient transferred to the ward, nicely on the road to recovery again, did she allow her mind to dwell on the unfortunate episode which had occurred. And funnily enough it was the Dutchman she was furious with; for coming in like that and over-hearing Mike talking all that hot air. She paused, aware that his words, which at one time would have been quite shattering to her, were, in fact, just that. She had, let her face it, been a fool; she was well rid of him, even if her pride was still ragged at the edges. But that Doctor Mourik van Nie should have been a witness to such a nasty little scene—that was a different matter entirely; he must have found it amusing; he had stared at her as though he had never seen her before. She felt unreasonably annoyed about that, so that she clashed and banged her way around the recovery room before finally leaving it in a state of perfection. The quicker she got out of the hospital and into Aunt Maud’s placid company, the better.

In her room she flung a few things into an overnight bag, changed into the tan jersey cardigan suit with the shell pink blouse she had bought instead of eating properly that month, coiled her long hair neatly on the top of her head and, nicely made up, dashed out to catch a bus.

The Underground was crowded; she didn’t get 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.’