A Valentine for Daisy Read online

  It was her turn to work at the weekend and she couldn’t entirely suppress a feeling of expectancy as she cycled to work. Maisie had said that the doctor sometimes visited on a Saturday or Sunday and there was a chance that he might as there were several ill children on the ward…

  There was no sign of him on Saturday; the registrar had been to the ward several times, obviously worried about some of the children, and Sister, who was on duty for the weekend, had spent a long time at their cotsides. Daisy longed to know what was the matter with them and if Sister hadn’t been so busy she would have asked. As it was, she was busy herself, managing to do Maisie’s work as well as her own. Sunday was just as hectic too but in the early evening the children seemed better and the ward was quiet. Daisy could hear the distant continuous murmur of visitors on the floors below; in another hour she would be going home… She picked up the tray of tea she was taking to Sister’s office and, pausing at its door, came face to face with Philip.

  He said breezily, ‘Hello, is this where Sister lives? I’ve come to see you—I’m sure she won’t mind just for a few minutes; I brought a friend down from home to visit his granny—she’s had an operation.’

  ‘You can’t…’ began Daisy, but it was too late; he had tapped on the door and she heard Sister’s nice voice telling whoever it was to come in.

  Afterwards she tried to understand what had happened. Sister had looked up from her desk and she and Philip had just stared at each other; they looked as though they had just discovered something they had been searching for all their lives and for the moment she had been quite sure that neither of them had any idea of where they were or what they were doing. She had waited for a moment for someone to say something and then put the tray down on Sister’s desk. Sister had moved then and so had Philip.

  Philip spoke first. ‘I brought someone to visit and I wondered if I might have a few minutes with Daisy—we met in Holland.’ He held out a hand. ‘Philip Keynes…’

  Sister blushed. ‘Beryl Carter. You’re a friend of Daisy? It’s not really allowed to visit staff, but since you’re here…’

  ‘It’s not at all important,’ said Philip, summarily dismissing Daisy from his mind and life without a second’s thought, so that Daisy slipped away and fetched another cup and saucer. She was in time to hear Sister say,

  ‘Do sit down, Mr Keynes; have you come far?’

  Daisy had never quite believed in falling in love at first sight, but now she knew better. They would make a nice pair, she reflected as she helped a hard-pressed nurse to change cotsheets. Philip would have to get a larger place in which to live, of course—if he had a wife he might get his promotion. She was deep in speculative thought when Sister came to the ward door.

  Philip was standing by the swing doors, ready to leave. He said in a bemused kind of voice, ‘I say, Daisy, I’m so glad I came to see you.’ Then when she agreed pleasantly he went on, ‘She’s got a day off tomorrow; I’m coming to take her out for the day…’

  ‘What a splendid idea,’ said Daisy. ‘I’m sure you’ll have a lovely time. She’s so very nice, Philip.’

  ‘Nice? She’s an angel—I knew it the moment I set eyes on her.’

  He was, she saw, about to embark on a detailed description of Sister Carter’s charms. Daisy cut him short in a kindly way. ‘Good for you; I must go. Let me know what happens next, won’t you?’

  She went back into the ward; there was still almost an hour before she was free to go home.

  Sister was in the ward checking one of the ill children when Dr Seymour came quietly in. Daisy, going down the ward with an armful of nappies for one of the nurses, slithered to a halt when he came towards her. He gave her a cold look and she wondered why; she hadn’t expected a smile but his eyes were like grey steel. Naturally enough, if she had but known, for he had seen Philip leaving the ward only seconds before he himself entered it. The young man hadn’t seen him; indeed, he was in such a state of euphoria that he was in no shape to see anything or anyone. The doctor, his face impassive, entered the ward in a rage.

  He was still there when it was time for Daisy to go off duty. She bade Sister goodnight, and whisked herself away. It was a pity that she was free the next day—Dr Seymour might still be at the hospital, although, if he was going to look at her like that, perhaps it was just as well that she wasn’t going to be there. She frowned; the last time they had met they had been quite friendly in a guarded sort of way. She shook off a vague regret and fell to planning what she would do with her free day.

  It was nice to have a day at home, to potter round the garden, help her mother around the house; do some shopping. After supper she sat down at her mother’s desk and carefully checked their finances. There was very little in the bank but at least they were paying the bills as they came in and putting by a little each week into what she called their ‘sinking fund’, which really meant schoolbooks for Pamela, and for having shoes mended and what she hoped would be a winter coat for her mother. She went back to work on the Tuesday morning feeling that life wasn’t too bad; a few months’ steady work and it would be even better; further ahead than that she didn’t care to look. The thought of being an orderly for the rest of her working days made her feel unhappy.

  She was cleaning out the older children’s lockers by their small beds when Dr Seymour came in. Sister was with him; so was Staff Nurse, his registrar, a young houseman and one or two persons hovering on the fringe whom Daisy couldn’t identify. He brought with him an air of self-assurance nicely timed with a kindly, avuncular manner—very reassuring to his patients, reflected Daisy, getting off her knees and melting discreetly into the nearest sluice-room. Maisie had dinned it into her on her first day that orderlies kept off the wards when the consultants did a round.

  Maisie was having her coffee break and the sluice-room was pristine; Daisy wedged herself near the door and watched the small procession on its way round the cots. It was a leisurely round; Dr Seymour spent a long time with each occupant, sometimes sitting on the cotside with a toddler on his knee. He had a way with children, Daisy admitted, making them chuckle and undisturbed when they bawled.

  The group moved round the ward and crossed over to the other side to where the older children were and Daisy, getting careless, opened the sluice-room door a little wider just as the doctor came to a halt and looked up, straight across the ward and at her. His look was impassive so why did she have the feeling that he was laughing behind that blandness? She stared back, not sure whether to shut the door or melt into the sluice-room out of sight, or perhaps stay well out of sight where she was.

  The problem was solved for her, for he moved away, his head bent to hear what Sister was saying.

  She had been at home for half an hour that evening when the doorknocker was soundly rapped. Pamela was in her room doing her homework, her mother was making a shopping-list and said vaguely, ‘The door, dear,’ so Daisy, spooning Razor’s supper into his saucer, put the tin down and went to see who it was.

  Dr Seymour stood on the doorstep and at her startled, ‘Oh, it’s you,’ wasted no time on polite preliminaries.

  ‘I should like a word,’ he told her, and since he expected to be invited in she stood on one side.

  ‘Come in, Dr Seymour.’ Her voice was tart for she saw no reason to be anything else. Why he should want to come and see her was a mystery—surely if she had needed a reprimand for something she had done wrong on the ward it should be Sister who administered it?

  She opened the sitting-room door but he brushed past her. ‘You’re in the kitchen?’ he said, and before she could answer he had stalked in, to wish her surprised mother good evening with just the right degree of apologetic charm.

  Mrs Pelham put down her pencil. ‘Dr Seymour—how nice. Do you want to talk to Daisy? I’ll make a cup of coffee.’ She smiled at him in her gentle way. ‘Do sit down.�
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  He sat, refusing the coffee at the same time. ‘I’ve come to ask a favour of Daisy.’ Since she was still standing just inside the door, he got up again. Lovely manners, reflected Mrs Pelham and told Daisy quite sharply to sit down. It would be easier to talk to him sitting down; he loomed rather large on his feet…

  ‘My sister asked me to come and see you; she’s unable to leave the children. Miss Thompson has had to go home to look after her sick mother and she thinks that I can explain matters more easily than if she spoke to you on the telephone. She and her husband have to attend some function or other next Saturday evening. There is no one she cares to leave the children with; she’ll have to take them with her. She hopes that if you’re free you might be persuaded to go with her and look after them—just for Saturday and Sunday. They’ll take you up in the car and bring you back, of course.’ He looked at Daisy. ‘Of course we realise that it is an imposition; you have little enough free time. But the children like you and Meg trusts you, Daisy.’

  Daisy opened her mouth to say no and then closed it again. After all, he was only passing on a message from his sister; it was really nothing to do with him, and Lady Thorley had been very kind to her. She glanced at her mother who smiled faintly at her. ‘Why not, dear?’ asked her parent. ‘It will be a nice little change for you, and Lady Thorley has always been so kind to you.’

  Daisy still hesitated, though; indeed she might have refused if Pamela, hearing voices, hadn’t come down to see who had called. Her hello was casually friendly. ‘I bet you want to borrow Daisy,’ she said, and pulled up a chair to the table. ‘Do tell. What is it this time? Measles?’

  The doctor laughed. ‘Nothing to do with me; I’m only the bearer of a message. My sister wants Daisy to go with her and the children to London for the weekend—their governess has had to go home for a few days.’

  ‘Good idea; will you drive her up?’

  ‘I—no, no. I shan’t be here. My sister would fetch Daisy if she’s willing to go.’

  ‘Of course she’ll go,’ said Pamela, ‘won’t you, Daisy?’

  Daisy, unable to think of any reason to refuse, said that yes, she would.

  He got up to go presently, saying all the right things before going to the door with Daisy. As she opened it he asked carelessly, ‘Have you seen any more of young Philip?’

  He gave her a friendly smile and she quite forgot that she had no wish to be friendly too. ‘Oh, yes, he came to see me the other evening; he met Sister Carter, though.’ She forgot for the moment to whom she was speaking. ‘It was really very strange—I mean, they just looked at each other as though they had known each other all their lives. I’ve never believed in love at first sight, but now I do.’

  She glanced at him and saw the little smile and felt her cheeks grow hot. ‘Goodnight, Dr Seymour,’ she said coldly and opened the door wide.

  His, ‘Goodnight, Daisy,’ was uttered with great civility and he said nothing else. She stood at the door, keeping still and not looking as he got into his car, and as he drove away closed it with deliberate quiet. Otherwise she would have banged it as hard as she was able; she had made a fool of herself talking to him like that. He would be sitting in his car, smiling that nasty little smile…her face was scarlet at the thought.

  The doctor was indeed smiling, a slow, tender smile which made him look years younger. He drove to his sister’s house, whistling softly under his breath, and Belle, sensing that he found life very much to his satisfaction, sat on the back seat and thumped her tail happily.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  THERE was no sign of the doctor when Daisy went to work in the morning and she wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed. Dr Dowling did a ward-round with the housemen and staff nurse, since Sister Carter had a day off—out with Philip, no doubt of that. Daisy wondered where they would go—somewhere romantic, she hoped. Maisie, bustling up and down the ward, gave her opinion that Sister was far too pretty to be stuck in a hospital. ‘Ought to ’ave a ’ome of her own with kids.’ She gave a hoarse chuckle. ‘And that won’t be no trouble to ’er—she’s ’ad enough practice ’ere.’

  At home, Daisy combed through her wardrobe again. She supposed it didn’t really matter what she wore when she went to London, and it was only for two days anyway. It would have to be the good suit once again; she could travel in a blouse and take the silk top, spare undies and night things and her small collection of make-up. They could all go easily enough into the roomy shoulder-bag, which would leave her arms free for the twins.

  ‘You don’t suppose you might get asked out?’ asked her mother hopefully.

  ‘No, love. I shall be with the twins while the Thorleys go to this banquet or whatever it is. I dare say I shall take them for a walk in the morning and we’ll come back here in the afternoon. I shall enjoy the trip there and back,’ added Daisy in her sensible way.

  ‘Where will you stay?’

  ‘Don’t know. In a hotel, perhaps, or they may even have a flat or house in London—that’s the most likely, I should think.’

  ‘It sounds rather dull to me,’ observed Mrs Pelham. If Daisy agreed with her parent she didn’t say so.

  Sister Carter was on duty the next morning, starry-eyed and looking prettier than ever. During the morning she sent for Daisy to go to her office, and when she tapped on the door and was bidden to enter she was told to sit down.

  Daisy sat composedly while she beat her brains trying to remember if she had done something worthy of a talking-to. So it was all the more surprising when Sister Carter said cheerfully, ‘Philip was telling me about you yesterday. You really shouldn’t be an orderly, you know, Daisy. Can’t you train as a nurse?’

  It was so unexpected that Daisy didn’t answer at once. When she did her voice was as quiet as usual. ‘I think I might like to do that, Sister, but until my sister is through school I do need to have a job; a student nurse’s pay wouldn’t be quite enough…besides, I—I need to live at home.’

  ‘For how long would that be?’ asked Sister Carter kindly.

  ‘Another three years. There would still be plenty of time for me to train as a nurse—I’m twenty-two—I wouldn’t be too old…’

  She was uttering a pipe-dream—her mother couldn’t be left alone and Pamela would be miles away at some university, but there was no need to burden Sister with that.

  ‘A pity. Still, there doesn’t seem to be anything we can do about it at present, does there? As long as you’re happy here?’

  ‘I am—very happy, Sister.’ That at least was true, thought Daisy.

  ‘Well, we’ll have to see,’ said Sister Carter vaguely. She smiled suddenly. ‘I don’t suppose I’ll be here in three years’ time, but I’ll make sure that you have a special splendid reference when I go.’

  She hesitated. ‘Did you have no opportunity to train for anything, Daisy?’

  ‘No, my father died.’

  ‘I’m sorry. Anyway, you can count on me if ever you see the chance to start training.’

  Back in the ward, bagging the endless nappies, Daisy thought it unlikely.

  Saturday came, bringing with it chilly blue skies and a sunshine without much warmth. Just the right weather for the suit, decided Daisy, getting up early.

  Lady Thorley arrived late, explaining worriedly that the twins had been troublesome at the last minute. ‘If you wouldn’t mind sitting in the back with them, Daisy?’ she asked. ‘They’re cross because we haven’t brought Boots with us.’ She added hopefully, ‘They usually listen to you.’

  At first they weren’t disposed to listen to anyone, even Daisy whom they liked, but presently they decided to be good and the rest of the journey was made in comparative harmony. All the same Daisy was relieved to see the outskirts of London closing in around them; there was so much more to see and the child
ren, rather excited now, were kept busy pointing out everything which caught their eye. Daisy was excited too although she appeared serene enough, as Lady Thorley drove along Millbank and the Victoria Embankment until she turned off at Northumberland Avenue, skirted Trafalgar Square and turned into Pall Mall, and after that Daisy was lost—she didn’t know London well; all she knew was that they had crossed Piccadilly and were driving through streets of dignified mansions opening out from time to time into quiet squares encircling a railed-off garden. Very pleasant to sit there under the trees on the wooden seats, thought Daisy, and indeed there were small children and mothers and nursemaids doing just that. Living in such surroundings it would be hard to remember that the busy London streets were close by.

  Lady Thorley drove past another square and turned into a tree-lined street where the houses were smaller, although to Daisy’s eyes they looked of a handsome size, and presently stopped halfway down the terrace.

  ‘Well, here we are,’ Lady Thorley observed. She looked over her shoulder to the twins. ‘You’ve both been very good—are you tired, Daisy?’

  ‘Not in the least, Lady Thorley. Would you like me to see to the cases or mind the children?’

  ‘The children, please; Trim will take the bags inside.’

  The house door had opened and an elderly man, very spry, crossed the pavement.

  ‘Trim, how nice to see you again. Will you see to the luggage for us? This is Miss Daisy Pelham who has kindly come with me to look after the children.’

  Trim greeted her with dignity, exchanged a more boisterous greeting with the children and took the car keys from Lady Thorley. ‘Nice to see you again, my lady,’ he said. ‘Mrs Trim will be waiting for you.’

  The door opened on to a small vestibule which in turn led to a long wide hall. Daisy, following Lady Thorley indoors, saw that the house was a good deal larger than it appeared to be from the outside but she had little time to look around her. Advancing to meet them was a stout middle-aged woman with improbable black hair and eyes to match. She had a round face which crinkled nicely when she smiled and the children rushed towards her with shouts of delight.