A Girl Named Rose

The bus stopped just before they reached Zeebrugge and they all got out and had tea and a biscuit; the tea—a teabag in a saucer with a glass of almost boiling water, and no milk, was refreshing but not at all like the dark strong brew they shared in each other’s rooms when they came off duty. They were off again within fifteen minutes and shortly after went on board, where they left everything in the bus and climbed the stairs to the upper decks. They knew the journey would take four hours and there was still the drive to London from Dover; they wouldn’t be at the hospital until midnight at least. Luckily none of them were on duty until one o’clock the next day. Their main thoughts were now centred on food. Lunch had been light and hours ago; Rose counted what was left of the money and then shared it out between the six of them. There wasn’t a great deal, not enough to go to the restaurant with the other travellers in the coach, but there was a cafeteria on board. They trooped along its counter, getting value for their money, spending it on rolls and butter, cheese, hardboiled eggs and cups of tea.

It had been great, they all agreed, sitting round a table, munching, for the most part the food had been good and generous; they had seen a lot and their fellow passengers had been friendly.

“But next time I go,” declared Sadie, “I’ll travel by car and eat all the time at those heavenly restaurants we saw and never went into. I’d like to spend at least a week in Amsterdam, wouldn’t you, Rose?”

Rose drank the last of her tea. “Oh, yes—but I’d like to see a lot more of Holland too. But Amsterdam was smashing.”

Alice said slyly: “I bet you’d like to meet that Dutchman again…”

“Yes I would.” Rose spoke readily enough in her composed way. “One meets someone and wonders about them and that’s as far as it goes. Shall we go on deck for a bit? We’ll have to sit in that coach presently.”

It was most fortunate that the coach went within a hundred yards of St Bride’s and the driver, being a kind man, took them almost to the door. They tumbled out, exchanging goodbyes with the other passengers, collected their cases, thanked the driver, handed him the tip Rose had been jealously guarding, and hurried across the street from the hospital to the Nurses’ home. The warden on duty let them in with a good deal of shushing and requests to be quiet, and rather dampened in spirits, they went softly up the stairs to the second floor where the staff nurses had their rooms. They did not linger over getting ready for bed; there was a brisk to-ing and fro-ing in competition for baths, quick good nights and then sleep. Rose, laying her head in a cloud of soft brown hair on her pillow, spared a thought for the Dutchman and then resolutely shut him out of her mind. The last few years had taught her to make the best of things and try to improve on them if possible, and never, never, to waste time on wanting something she couldn’t have: to see him again. She closed her eyes and slept.

There wasn’t much leisure in the morning; they got up for breakfast for the simple reason that if they didn’t they would be hungry, but it was a cheerful rather noisy meal, for everyone wanted to know about their trip. Besides there was the hospital gossip to catch up on, and once they were back in their rooms, there was the unpacking to do, clean caps to make up and another pot of tea, made in their own little pantry, and by then it was time to go to the office, one by one, to be told where they were to go on duty.

There were no surprises for Rose; staff nurse on children’s surgical and she was to report to Sister Cummins at one o’clock. As an afterthought she was asked if she had enjoyed her holiday, to which she made a suitable reply before getting herself tidily out of her superior’s presence.

Sister Cummins seemed pleased to see her; she was a big, vigorous young woman, quite wrapped up in her work and a splendid nurse. She had no use for nurses who weren’t prepared to work as hard as she did, and made a point of saying so, so that she wasn’t popular, but Rose got on well with her, going calmly about her work and refusing to take umbrage at some of Sister Cummins’ more caustic remarks. And as for the children, they got on splendidly together; she settled down quickly into the chaotic routine of the ward, and if, just now and again, her thoughts turned to the lovely old house and its handsome owner in Amsterdam, she shook them off briskly.

The ward was very busy, for the hospital did a good deal of major surgery in the paediatric wing; very small patients with heart conditions, cystic hygroma which had become infected and needed surgical treatment, pyloric stenosis, club feet, hydrocephalus. Rose, trotting quietly to and fro between the cots, had her heart wrung a dozen times a day and yet her days had their lighter moments too. The convalescent children, full of good spirits, were as naughty as she could wish and Sister Cummins, once they were on the road to recovery, didn’t believe in checking them more than was necessary. There was a play-room where they were taken each day under the care of two of the nurses and they screamed and shouted and played together and more often than not, fell asleep. Rose never had much time to spend in the play-room, there were so many ill children to nurse, but it pleased her to hear the normal racket even if it did give her a headache by the end of a busy day.

She was to have a long weekend in a week’s time; the two weeks she had already done on the ward had flown and although she had had days off she hadn’t gone away. She hadn’t heard from her stepmother but she hadn’t expected to, she sensed that she wouldn’t be welcome if she went to her home. Besides, there was nothing for her there any more. It would be nice to see Aunt Millicent and Maggie again; she would help in the garden and take her aunt’s old dog, Shep, for gentle walks and eat huge meals.

It had been more than a full day; three operations and a street accident. Rose, going off duty over an hour late, looked as tired as she felt. A long hot bath, and never mind supper, she decided, she could make tea for herself and there were some biscuits in the tin and perhaps if one of her friends felt like it she would nip down the street to the fish and chip shop and get a bag of chips.

Head well down, she ran down the wide stone staircase leading to the front hall; there wasn’t anyone about; those who had an evening off had gone long ago, those on duty were busy seeing to suppers, hurrying to be ready in time for the visitors in half an hour. She jumped the last two steps and ran full tilt into the man standing at the foot of the stairs.

She had butted him in the waistcoat and her head shot up. Not, for heaven’s sake, one of the consultants. It wasn’t, it was the Dutchman, quite unshaken, smiling down at her.

“Well, well,” he said pleasantly, “Nurse Comely, literally bumping into me.”

She blushed, hating herself for doing so, unaware that the colour in her cheeks made her almost pretty. She said nervously: “Oh, hullo, Mijnheer Werdmer ter Sane. What a surprise. Have you come to visit someone?”

He was smiling a little. “Yes, are you going off duty?”

It was silly of her heart to leap so violently, and even sillier that she had thought even for a split second that he was going to ask her to spend the evening with him. She must be mad. She said soberly, “Yes, I am. Very late. We’re busy today.” She added succinctly: “Children, you know.”

“Ah, yes.” He stood for a moment, not speaking, and she saw that he wanted to go but didn’t want to be too abrupt about it.

“Well, I must hurry,” she told him brightly. “I’m supposed to be going out.” She held out a hand. “It was nice to see you again, goodbye.”

He shook her hand gently and said just as gently, “Indeed, a pleasant surprise for me, too, Nurse.”

She gave him a quick smile and crossed the hall very fast and went out of the door to cross the road to the nurses’ home. Now if she had been Sadie she would have managed better; turned on the charm, made some amusing remarks…only she wasn’t Sadie. She went to her room and not allowing herself to brood, undressed, lay in the bath until impatient thumps on the door got her out of it, drank her tea in the company of such of her friends as were off duty too, and went to bed early, pleading a headache.

She wasn’t allowed peace and quiet for long. Sadie, coming off duty a couple of hours later, burst into her room with an excited, “Rose, Rose, wake up, do. He’s here—our Dutchman, I’ve just met him in the hall and guess what, he’s a surgeon and knows old Cresswell—” Mr Cresswell was the senior consultant at the hospital, an elderly grumpy man who somehow became a magician once he had a scalpel in his hand “—I asked him why he was here.”

“You didn’t,” expostulated Rose in horror.

“I did. Why not? And he said I’d know soon enough. What do you suppose he wants?”

Rose sat up in bed and hugged her knees. “Sadie, I don’t know. Probably to consult with someone, or give a lecture or borrow something.”

“He remembered me,” said Sadie, ignoring this remark. “He said, ‘Ah, my charming visitor.’ He told me he was delighted to see me again. I hope he’s here in the morning. He might ask us out to lunch or a drink or something.”

Rose eyed her friend soberly. “You perhaps, not me, and anyway, it might not be quite the thing; he’s much more likely to have lunch with old Cresswell and the other consultants.”

Sadie grinned at her. “The trouble with you, Rosie, is that you have no romance in you, not one ounce.”

Rose curled up in bed. “Well, let me know what happens. We’ll both be at first dinner tomorrow.”

It was half way through the morning when Sister Cummins came down the ward to where she was bending over one of the cots, adjusting an intravenous drip. “Staff, will you go to the office? Now. Miss Timms wants to see you.”

“Me, heavens, whatever have I done?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. I’ll take over here. Leave your apron in my office and tidy your hair.”

Two minutes later Rose, hair smoothed beneath her muslin cap, went as fast as she dared without actually running through the labyrinth of passages to the centre of the hospital where Miss Timms had her office, tucked away behind an outer office, guarded by her two assistants. There was another door to her office too, opening directly on to the passage Rose was racing along. As she reached it she skidded to a halt. Miss Timms had a loud voice. “I’m sorry that I must disappoint you, Mijnheer Werdmer ter Sane, Nurse Gordon is a very good nurse and I agree with you that she has a pleasant manner, but she isn’t very skilled in the nursing of children and toddlers. Now Nurse Comely is our gold medallist and is at present staffing on the acute children’s ward; she has already spent some months there during her training and is absolutely trustworthy and highly skilled.”

Rose was standing like a statue; quite forgetful that it was a most reprehensible thing to eavesdrop; moreover, listeners never heard good of themselves, a fact borne out by the Dutchman’s remark. His voice wasn’t as loud as Miss Timms’, but it was deep and very clear; she didn’t miss a syllable.

“Then I must bow to your good advice,” he was saying. “I am sure that if you recommend her so highly, Nurse Comely will suit the case very well. But it seemed to me that she lacks a certain light-heartedness—she is a very quiet girl, is she not?”

Miss Timms didn’t answer at once, and Rose held her breath and beat down her sudden rage. Quiet was she, lacking in light-heartedness, was she? Why didn’t he go all the way and say that she was plain?

“Not a girl that one would notice,” pursued Mijnheer Werdmer ter Sane blandly, “but of course she will spend a good deal of time with her patient. You see, Miss Timms, I had hoped for someone who would be able to cheer up the child’s mother—distract her thoughts and so on, and it seemed to me that Miss Gordon filled the bill.”

Rose ground her splendid little teeth and let out a breath as he went on, “But I bow to your wisdom—if I might have a few words with her?”

“She should be here by now.” Miss Timms’ voice held a faint triumph at getting her own way. It also sent Rose soft-footed past the door, to tap on the outer office and be admitted, to be urged into Miss Timms’ office without more ado.

After living for several years with her stepmother, she had learnt to hide her feelings. She was slightly pale and she was breathing rather fast but that could be put down to her sudden summons. She said politely, “Good morning, Miss Timms, you wanted to see me?” and then, “Good morning, Sir,” in a colourless voice. Her glance was so quick that she didn’t see his sudden sharp look which was perhaps a good thing.

CHAPTER TWO

MISS TIMMS SAID, “Ah, Staff Nurse Comely,” in a voice which suggested that she was about to pronounce judgment on Rose’s head. “I must explain why I have sent for you.”

Rose sat, inwardly seething. She looked the picture of composure with her pretty hands folded tidily on her lap and her dark eyes upon Miss Timms’ face. Mijnheer Werdmer ter Sane sat down too, to one side and a little behind her, very relaxed in his chair although he was watching her from under hooded lids. He still watched her as Miss Timms began to speak in her most impressive voice.

“Mijnheer Werdmer ter Sane is a surgeon, a friend and colleague of Mr Cresswell and he has come to me with a request which Mr Cresswell begs me to grant.” She paused, inflated her massive bosom with a deep, dramatic breath, then went on. “Doctor ter Brandt, who lives in The Hague, is a friend of both Mr Cresswell and Mijnheer Werdmer ter Sane. He is married to an Englishwoman, a trained nurse from St Athud’s, they have a two-year-old son and Mrs…” she glanced at the man sitting quietly listening and said coyly, “I suppose one calls her Mevrouw?”

“It would be quite suitable if you were to refer to her as Mrs, indeed I would suggest that you address me as Mister.”

Miss Timms bowed her head in majestic acknowledgement. “Thank you. As I was saying, Mrs ter Brandt is expecting her second child within a few weeks and is therefore unable to deal with the painful situation which has arisen.” She paused again and if her listeners were impatient they gave no sign.

“Two days ago the little boy fell and before his mother could pick him up, had rolled down stone steps leading to the garden. He has sustained a depressed fractured skull and is in the children’s hospital in Amsterdam where Mr Werdmer ter Sane is a consultant. His mother is most anxious that he should have an English nurse since she is unable to do much for him herself. Mr Werdmer ter Sane got in touch with Mr Cresswell who kindly suggested that a nurse from St Bride’s might be borrowed. I have recommended you for the case, Staff Nurse, you will leave this afternoon. That will be all.”

Not quite all, however. Mr Werdmer ter Sane got to his feet and observed blandly, “Perhaps I might ask Nurse Comely if she will accept. She may not wish to take the case although I hope that she will.”

She looked at him then. “Yes, of course, I’ll come,” she told him without fuss. She added silently, even though I’m quiet and not light-hearted and not pretty either. She added out loud this time, “If you are sure that there isn’t a nurse who would suit you better?”

His eyes were suddenly intent on hers. He said smoothly, “If Miss Timms recommends you so highly, I feel sure that the matter is entirely satisfactory. Would you be able to leave at three o’clock this afternoon? We can go by hovercraft from Dover and be in Amsterdam late this evening.”

He glanced at Miss Timms. “That could be arranged, Miss Timms?”

“Certainly, Staff Nurse may go off duty now and pack what she will need.” She nodded at Rose. “Very well, Staff Nurse, you may go. Have you enough money to tide you over?”

“No,” said Rose baldly. “Payday is next week.”

“As I am aware. Come to the outer office in an hour’s time and you will receive an advance in cash.”

“Thank you, Miss Timms.” Rose turned to the door and found it being opened for her; her thanks were wooden.

It was well past eleven o’clock; she sped back to the ward, gave Sister Cummins a brief resumé of her interview, listened with sympathy to that lady’s opinion of foreigners who came borrowing the best nurses in the hospital without so much as a by-your-leave and was bidden to have her coffee before she left the ward. “I’ll have mine too,” said Sister Cummins gloomily, “and just whisk through the routine—how far had you got? I suppose I’ll be sent some feather-brained idiot…I could strangle that man.”

She thumped the coffee-pot down on her desk as there was a tap on the door and called “come in” in a grudging voice.

Mr Werdmer ter Sane came in, completely at ease. “Sister Cummins? I’ve come to apologise for taking your staff nurse away. Believe me, only the urgency of the situation drives me to such a drastic step.” He shot a glance at Rose’s calm face. “I dare say Nurse Comely has already explained to you…”

Sister Cummins’ wrath was oozing away under his charm. “Well, it is most inconvenient but I can see that it is urgent.” She waved him to the padded office chair in a corner that no one ever had time to sit in. “Have some coffee while you tell me about it…”

Rose fetched another mug and poured the coffee as he eased himself into the chair and began his explanations; much more succinctly than Miss Timms had done and in half the time. He drank his coffee with every sign of enjoyment too, although by now it was lukewarm and tasted frightful. “And if I might take up a few more minutes of your time? It would be useful to explain to Nurse Comely what she should bring with her.”

He glanced across at Rose; he looked kind and impersonal. “Your passport, money, uniform, for you will be at the hospital for some time, I imagine, and whatever you wear out of uniform. Enough for three or four weeks, but I’m sure that if you forget anything Christina ter Brandt will see to it.”

He got up and smiled charmingly at Sister Cummins who smiled back, quite won over. When he had gone she turned to Rose, collecting mugs and putting them on the tray. “You know, I quite envy you—he is really rather nice. We could do with a few like him in this place.” As Rose reached the door, she added, “You’d better get cracking, you don’t want to keep him waiting.” Just for a moment she looked wistful. “I wouldn’t mind being in your shoes. Bye.”

Rose balanced the tray, kicked the door open with one foot and said, “I hope I’ll come back here, Sister. I’m happy on this ward. I don’t suppose I’ll be gone for more than a few weeks at the outside.”

She had half an hour before her dinner time; she went to her room, got her case from the depths of the wardrobe and started to pack. Uniform and caps, tights and undies, dressing-gown and slippers and a cotton skirt and a handful of tops as well as a plain linen dress, sandals, make-up and a sponge bag and her rain coat. It was time by then to go to the office and collect her money; most of her month’s salary so at least she wouldn’t be penniless. She put the envelope in her pocket and went along to the canteen, collected her shepherd’s pie, potatoes and beans, and bore her plate to the table where her friends were already sitting.

Sadie greeted her excitedly. “I say, Rosie, I saw him again coming out of the office—he seemed in a hurry, but he waved. I wonder why he’s here.”

Rose speared some pie and added mustard. “Well,” she said slowly, “he’s here to borrow a nurse—a friend of his with an English wife; their small son has got a fractured skull, I don’t know any details, I suppose I’ll get those later…”

“Later? What on earth do you mean?” She had the attention of the whole table now.

“He’s borrowed me. Mind you, he didn’t want me particularly, only Miss Timms seemed to think I’d do. It’s for a week or two and I’m going at three o’clock this afternoon. Back to Amsterdam.”

“Rose, how absolutely marvellous. And you’ll see him every day.”

“I don’t know about that, Sadie, I’m going to look after a toddler, not accompany Mr Werdmer ter Sane to nightclubs.”

There was a little burst of laughter and then a spate of questions between gobbling their dinners with one eye on the clock. Milk pudding and strong tea brought their meal to an end and they got up to go back on duty. Only Sadie lingered. “Have fun, Rose, I wish it was me…”

Rose smiled at her friend. “I’m sure he wishes it was you, too, love. But Miss Timms didn’t give him a chance.”

Sadie brightened. “Keep reminding him about me,” she urged. “I know I’m going to marry and settle down but I wouldn’t mind one final fling.”

Rose finished her packing, showered and got into a cotton jersey shirtwaister; not high fashion, but very simple and suitable for a journey, then she went to phone her aunt.

Aunt Millicent took the news calmly, merely hoping that her little patient would make a good recovery and voicing the opinion that travel broadened the mind and would Rose be sure and keep her money in a safe place. “And let me know how you get on, my dear,” she finished. “We shall both be glad to hear from you; here’s Maggie.”

Maggie disliked the telephone; her voice, faintly apprehensive, came over the wire hesitantly. “Take care now,” she begged Rose, “and don’t eat too much of that nasty foreign food. Come back soon, love.”

Rose put the receiver back; they were dears, the pair of them, the moment she got back when she had days off she’d go and see them. She pondered the problem of ringing her stepmother and decided against it. There was little point in it, neither she nor her new husband took any interest in her, nor she in them.

It was getting on for three o’clock; she went along to the pantry and made herself a pot of tea and sat drinking it, checking over in her mind that she had everything she might need with her. She tidied the tea things away, went to her room and collected her case and shoulder bag and crossed the street to the hospital. She was early but the Rolls was there in the forecourt with Mr Werdmer ter Sane at the wheel. As soon as he saw her he came to meet her, took her case and put it in the boot and ushered her into the front seat.

“I don’t intend to stop on the way,” he informed her, his tone so friendly that she found herself agreeing at once. “We can get a sandwich and coffee on the hovercraft. You’ve had lunch?”

“Yes, thank you.” The shepherd’s pie and milk pudding still felt solid inside her. She settled herself without fuss and sat back in the comfortable seat; she had little intention of talking and remembering his remarks to Miss Timms, she imagined that he probably felt the same. And indeed, he had nothing to say until they were clear of the last suburbs and racing towards Dover.

“This case,” he began, “I’ll fill in a few details. The little chap’s name is Duert, he’s two and four months, a healthy specimen and being sensibly brought up. He’s lively and big for his age…his father’s a big man. He has a posterior fossa fracture and there is a good deal of swelling of the brain. I have operated to relieve this but there was a CSF leak and I’m worried that there might be a latent infection. He is in the children’s hospital in Amsterdam; his parents live in The Hague, but I can keep a closer eye on him if he’s on my ward. He’s in a side ward and you will be doing day duty, probably your free time will be curtailed for a few days; it will be made up to you later. His father is the director of a hospital in The Hague but he visits whenever he can spare a minute. His mother expects their second child within a few weeks; she’s a level-headed girl and realises that there is little that she can do at the moment. That is why she begged for an English nurse; she feels that she can phone you and talk about Duert. She visits him each evening with her husband and she is convinced that he will recover…”

“And you? What do you think?” asked Rose.

“He has a very good chance but it depends largely on good nursing now. You have nursed similar cases?”

“Oh, yes. Won’t there be a language difficulty?”