Damsel In Green

‘I know you’re a nurse, but what’s your name?’

‘Georgina,’ said Georgina.

The child repeated it. ‘That’s a nice name. Does everyone call you that?’

‘Well, no, not always.’

‘What?’ the small voice was persistent.

‘Actually,’ said Georgina, ‘I get called George.’ She felt faintly embarrassed.

‘I shall call you George. That is, if you don’t mind? I like you.’

Georgina was aware that the Professor had finished his handiwork and was just sitting on the stool, listening. She looked up and caught his eye and frowned in a repressive fashion at him because she found his presence unsettling. She said, ‘Thank you, Beatrix. I like you too,’ then laid the child gently back on to the couch, made quick work of spraying each small cut with Nebecutane and then said to no one in particular:

‘I think I shall be needed to take the small boy …’

‘Cornelis,’ said a small voice from the pillow. ‘He’s my brother.’

‘Cornelis,’ repeated Georgina obediently, ‘to X-Ray.’ She stood up and looked fleetingly at the man sitting so quietly. ‘Shall I find a nurse to sit with Beatrix, or will you …?’

‘Stay? Yes, of course. But please ask Mr Sawbridge if he would spare a moment.’

She went down the row of cubicles to where the little boy lay, and passed the young man on the way. He was sitting on one of the stiff wooden chairs, staring ahead of him, but he smiled fleetingly as she halted before him.

‘All right?’ she enquired. ‘I’ll see to you just as soon as I can—it won’t be long now. Your—er—cousin is in the cubicle with the little girl if you like …’

He interrupted quite fiercely, ‘Thank you, Nurse—if my cousin wants me, he’ll send for me.’

She blinked at this; it would have been nice if she could have spared the time to learn a little more about the Professor. Instead, she made all haste to where an impatient porter was waiting to go to X-Ray.

Ten minutes later, while they were taking the lateral views, Mr Sawbridge, Bill Foster and the Professor came in. They went straight to the darkroom, where she could hear them muttering together over the wet films until the radiographer had finished his work and went to join them. They all came out together very shortly, and Mr Sawbridge said, ‘All right, Staff, take him back. I shall want the theatre in twenty minutes, please. Ask Theatre Sister to telephone me here as soon as possible. Oh, and put a figure-of-eight on Mr van den Berg Eyffert.’

She did as she was bid, but before starting on the bandaging she filled in a case sheet for Cornelis and got Bill Foster to write it up. There was the little matter of the pre-med. When she got back it was to find that the runner had got down at last; she left her to get the little boy ready for theatre and whisked into a cubicle where she had bidden the young man sit. ‘Now,’ she breathed, ‘let’s get you done.’ She was rolling cotton wool into a pad as she spoke and had eased him out of his shirt when a voice said placidly, ‘Shall I get a pull on his shoulders for you, Staff Nurse?’ He didn’t wait for her relieved murmur, but got behind his cousin and drew his shoulders firmly back.

The young man went white. ‘Revenge is sweet!’ he muttered.

‘I imagine you don’t mean that, Karel,’ the big man spoke patiently with no trace of ill-humour. He eased the injured shoulder up a little so that Georgina could arrange the pad, and she heard her patient say, ‘Sorry, Julius—I apologise.’

No one spoke again until she had finished her bandage. She nodded with satisfaction at the neatness of it and said briskly, ‘I should like particulars of you all, please, but I’ll get you a cup of tea first.’

She peeped in at Beatrix as she passed the cubicle; the little girl was asleep with Ned sitting beside her, writing up notes. He looked up and said crossly, ‘There you are! Wherever do you go?’

‘Round and about,’ said Georgina soothingly. ‘Is this one to be warded too?’

He nodded. ‘After X-ray, yes. Twenty-four hours’ observation.’ He nodded towards the benches, where a few of the hardier patients were still waiting. ‘Better run through that lot, hadn’t we?’

She nodded. ‘All right. Nurse can make the tea, then stay with the boy until he goes to theatre. I’ll take this one to X-Ray; that’ll leave her free to help you.’

She went back again after she had primed the runner about the tea, and the Professor, who was standing with his hands in his pockets, looked up and said vaguely, ‘Ah, yes,’ and walked away, leaving her patient to answer her questions. She began to fill in the cards and only just restrained herself from speaking when he gave the address as being very near Debden, which was only a few miles from her own home. Dalmers Place, he had said; she dimly remembered cycling through the village years ago. There had been several old Tudor houses in the neighbourhood—it must be one of those. She had barely finished taking the particulars when they came for the boy from theatre. She left him to drink his tea while she went with the child, and wasn’t in the least surprised to find the Professor, gowned and capped, waiting by the anaesthetic trolley.

She left the patient in the care of the theatre staff and sped back to Cas. The young man and Ned had joined forces over their tea. Ned said, ‘Ward the little girl, will you, ducky, and I’ll fix a taxi for Mr Eyffert.’

She came back to find Ned impatient to finish the diehards on the benches, and the younger Mr Eyffert on the point of departure. He wished her goodbye, thanked her charmingly and hoped to see her again, and it warmed her to think that he really meant it. He explained, ‘I’d like to stay, but Julius told me to go round to the hotel.’ Apparently Julius gave the orders and expected them carried out. She shook his sound hand and said soothingly, ‘That’s a fine idea; a good night’s sleep will do you a world of good. I’m sure Professor Eyffert will let you know how things go.’

‘Lord, yes. You see, the accident wasn’t my fault, but I am to blame. I decided to come to town for the evening and the kids got into the back of the car for a lark, so I brought them with me for the ride.’ He saw her astonished eyebrows. ‘I know it sounds silly. It was. Julius wiped the floor with me, and I deserved it.’ He laughed suddenly. ‘Poor chap, saddled with four children and me—but he’s a wonderful guardian.’

Georgina felt a peculiar lifting of her spirits. ‘Guardian? I thought he was their father.’

He laughed again, ruefully. ‘He’s not had much chance to think about getting married. Well, so long, Staff Nurse. I shall see you again.’

She agreed lightly, aware that it was unlikely—nearly all patients said that. She didn’t see the Professor again, either. He had called in on his way back from theatre while she was at her meal and expressed regret at missing her. She was surprised to find that she minded not seeing him again very much, but she was far too busy to ponder the matter.

She called in to the children’s unit on her way off duty in the morning. Beatrix was sitting up in bed, eating her breakfast; rather battered but apparently none the worse for her experience, and delighted to see her. Cornelis had regained consciousness an hour or two earlier and Georgina was invited to go along and see him. His eyes were closed; his face looked small and white and lonely on the pillow, as though it had nothing to do with the two legs in their Thomas’s splints.

‘They made a good job of them,’ commented the staff nurse who was with Georgina. ‘Sliding traction—they were both nice clean breaks. He’ll be as good as new in a few months’ time.’

He opened his eyes then, and asked, just as his sister had done, ‘Who are you?’

‘Hullo, Cornelis. I saw you last night when you were brought here.’

He nodded, staring at her. ‘I like you. What’s your name?’

‘Georgina Rodman.’

‘Mine’s Cornelis van den Berg Eyffert. You may call me Cor if you like.’ He added, ‘I shall call you George,’ and added again, very politely, ‘That’s if you don’t mind.’

There was no need to reply, for he had dropped off to sleep again. George went back to Beatrix and reiterated her promise to see her again, then ran downstairs to the dining-room, where she ate her meal rather dreamily without contributing greatly to the conversation. She was wondering if she would ever see Professor Eyffert again, and even if she did, whether he would remember her. In the No Man’s Land of muddled thoughts before she slept, she remembered that the children had called him Julius. A nice name, she thought sleepily, for a nice man. She slept.

CHAPTER THREE

SHE WENT every evening and morning to see the two children. Cor didn’t talk a great deal, unless it was to ask endless questions as to how long it would be before he could walk again, but Beatrix would sit up in bed, her face wreathed in smiles, and chatter for as long as she was allowed. It was from her that Georgina heard that her guardian had been every day to see them, and that she was to go home the next day, although Cor would have to stay.

‘Will you come and see Cor when he’s left behind?’ she wanted to know.

‘If he wants me to, of course I’ll come,’ said Georgina.

‘Julius said you would,’ said the little girl, ‘but I just wanted to make sure.’

Georgina let out a suddenly held breath. So he hadn’t forgotten her! She smiled, then frowned at her silliness in supposing that he remembered her in any other context than that of nurse.

She said goodbye to the little girl with real regret; she would herself be going on nights off in two days’ time, but Cornelis would still be there when she returned. She explained this carefully to him, and was astonished at the storm of protest it triggered off. Only by promising to write to him every day was she able to calm him down to coherency.

‘You’ll have your guardian to see you,’ she observed in conciliating tones, ‘and your other—er—uncle.’

‘He’s not my uncle, he’s my stepbrother,’ said the huffy little voice from the bed.

She looked surprised. ‘Oh, is he? I thought that he—they—were both your uncles.’