The Magic of Living Read online

  Hilary wasn’t very interested. ‘The end of the week…I want to do some shopping on Saturday. I shan’t bother to go home—you know what it will be, fussing round Nanny and having to keep an eye on the twins.’ She shuddered. ‘You go—you’re so useful, Bella. Buy Nanny some flowers or something, will you? I’ll pay you some time.’ She smiled, an easy smile which meant nothing at all, and tripped off down the corridor, leaving Arabella vaguely worried about Nanny and even more worried about Gideon because Hilary didn’t love him at all.

  It was Smithers, smiling a mean little smile, who told her on Friday afternoon that Hilary had been fetched by the Dutch doctor everyone was talking about—he’d taken her home; she had it on the best authority from one of the staff nurses on the Private Wing. Staff Nurse Grey had been livid because Sister Birch wasn’t due for a day off until Saturday, but she had gone just the same, leaving the staff nurses to split her duties between them. ‘She gets away with murder, does Sister Birch,’ commented Smithers nastily.

  Arabella agreed silently, but family loyalty was strong. ‘You haven’t any r-right to m-make spiteful r-remarks like that,’ she declared hotly. ‘Probably my cousin had to go home on urgent business…’

  ‘Ha—you must be joking, Birch, unless urgent business is twisting that doctor round her thumb until he finds himself married to her.’

  Arabella choked. ‘H-how dare you!’ she exploded. ‘You’re nothing b-but a spiteful c-cat! I c-can’t stand the s-sight of you!’

  She had been laying up a dressing tray. Now she picked it up, dumped it into her senior’s arms and walked out of the dressing room. And Staff Nurse Smithers, who for once knew that she had gone too far with the usually mild-tempered Arabella, meekly followed her, the tray still in her hands; she even did the dressing of the patient for whom it had been intended.

  Strong emotion, Arabella had discovered during the last few weeks, was more exhausting than a hard day’s work; she packed a case when she got off duty, put her clothes ready for the morning so that she might catch an early train, had her bath, washed her hair, plaited it neatly for the night and got into bed. She hadn’t wanted any supper, she put out the light and curled up and closed her eyes. She opened them almost immediately because someone was knocking thunderously on the door, and before she could say come in, had done so and switched on the light as well.

  ‘Whether you want to come or not,’ said Gideon from the doorway, ‘Nanny wants you. She’s ill—you knew that, didn’t you?’

  She was sitting up in bed, her rope of hair over one shoulder.

  ‘Yes, Hilary told me…’

  ‘And although you have days off you chose to stay so that you might go shopping.’ He sounded contemptuous.

  She didn’t know what to say—if he loved Hilary, he would never believe her if she told him the truth, and he must love Hilary very much, because here he was, coming to see her again. ‘You mustn’t come here,’ she told him fiercely. ‘It’s forbidden.’

  ‘Damn the rules! If you don’t get up and dress, my girl, and be downstairs in five minutes from now, I’ll come and dress you myself.’

  Arabella had her hand on the bedcovers. ‘Does Hilary know you’ve come back for me?’

  ‘Yes. She didn’t want me to come—indeed, she begged me not to—she said that she could manage Nanny very well by herself. She didn’t wish to spoil your days off.’ Again the contempt in his voice, and furious anger too. ‘But Nanny begged me to fetch you.’

  ‘Get out of my room.’ Arabella spoke urgently. She would have to go with him; it would be of no use explaining that she had her train ticket ready for the morning; that it was Hilary who had wanted to go shopping. In fact, she thought wearily, tearing into her clothes, it wasn’t any good explaining anything any more.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  DURING their almost silent journey, Arabella was able, from the few remarks the doctor let fall from a grimly set mouth, to piece together the happenings which had led to his unorthodox visit to the Nurses’ Home. He had been attending some meeting or other at Wickham’s during the afternoon, and afterwards had happened to meet Hilary, who had poured out her tale of Nanny Bliss being ill and how she was going, by hook or by crook, to her home that very afternoon, so that she might nurse her. And when, he said bitingly, he had offered to take Arabella at the same time, he had been told that although she had days off and could be spared far more easily from the ward than could Hilary, she had told Hilary that she preferred to stay in London and do some shopping, whereupon he had suggested that they might go together and endeavour to persuade Arabella to change her mind, but Hilary had put forward the unselfish plea to leave the matter where it stood. It was only when he had seen Nanny Bliss for himself, went on the doctor austerely, and had realized how much she wished to see Arabella, that he had taken upon himself to return to London and fetch her.

  ‘I cannot believe,’ he concluded with a remote coldness which took all the warmth from the car, ‘that you would grudge a few hours to someone who has been so good to you throughout her life.’

  ‘Believe what you like!’ snapped Arabella, and then subsided into numbed silence. Gideon seemed bent on seeing her in the worst possible light, and there would be no use in trying to make him do otherwise. She sat like a statue beside him, thinking with nostalgia of Doesburg and his home and the fun and laughter there had been in it. Her tight-lipped companion wasn’t the same man; it astonished her that despite this she still loved him as deeply, indeed her love wove like a golden thread through her unhappiness, as strong and tough as a parachute cord. She sighed deeply and began to think what she would say to Hilary when she saw her. She was still wondering about this when they arrived at Little Dean House.

  There were only a few lights burning, for it was late now. At the door she paused. ‘You’re staying the night?’

  ‘Yes,’ his voice was abrupt. He shut the door behind them and followed her across the hall towards the sitting room, where there was a lamp burning—someone was still up. Halfway there she remembered her case in the car and turned back to fetch it with such abruptness that she caught her handbag on the edge of a side table and let it fall to the ground, scattering half its contents, the ticket amongst them. She bent to snatch it up, only to have the doctor’s hand close over her own, take it from her, and with great deliberation, scrutinize it for himself. When he handed it back, his brows were drawn together in thought.

  ‘Arabella…’ he began, to be interrupted by Mrs Birch coming from the sitting room.

  She greeted them both with an air of harassment. ‘There you are, Arabella—now perhaps Nanny will settle down. So good of you, Gideon, going all that way to fetch my niece.’ She looked at Arabella and said with faint irritation: ‘I expected you sooner, you know. After all, I telephoned Hilary quite early in the morning and I’m sure you could have got leave to come home far more easily than poor Hilary with all her responsibilities.’

  Arabella muttered. Hilary had spun a pretty web, and she could see no way out of it; she could of course tell the truth, and much good that would do her. Her aunt wouldn’t believe her, and Gideon, enthralled by Hilary, would regard her as no more than a spiteful teller of tales. When her aunt continued: ‘Perhaps you would go straight up to Nanny, Arabella, so that Hilary can have a few hours’ rest,’ Arabella turned on her heel and went upstairs without even glancing at Gideon.

  Nanny was in her own little room next to the nursery, looking small and frail in her narrow bed, with the oxygen cylinder beside it, and an array of medicine bottles and pill boxes on the little mantel-shelf. She was asleep, but it was a troubled rest, with a good deal of tossing and turning. Hilary was curled up in a chair by the fire, deep in a magazine, but she looked up as Arabella went in and jumped to her feet.

  ‘Thank God!’ she said pettishly. ‘I’m just about fed up with sitting here doing nothing.’ She gave Arabella a sharp glance. ‘What did Gideon tell you?’

  ‘The lies you told him.’ Arabella spoke in
a whisper too, which was an effort; she longed to use a voice as strong as her feelings.

  Hilary flung a casual arm round her shoulders. ‘Oh, Bella, don’t be ratty! It was just the chance I wanted—what luck bumping into him like that this afternoon. I’ve let him glimpse the dear little woman under my apparently useless exterior. And what does it matter what he thinks of you, anyway?’ She went to the door. ‘There’s nothing to do for Nanny—oxygen when she needs it, antibiotics at two o’clock and again at six. Usual nursing treatment and so forth.’ She made a bored face. ‘You’ll find all clutter in the bathroom—drinks are on the table.’ She glanced towards the bed. ‘She should have gone into hospital, the tiresome old thing—I’ve told Daddy that when she’s fit enough, he must get her moved into an old people’s home.’

  Arabella looked at her cousin with horror. ‘But you can’t! You said that before, and you just can’t—this is her home, she’s been here…’

  ‘You’ve said that before too, Arabella, and I daresay you’ll repeat yourself over and over again, but it won’t make the smallest difference. She’s got double pneumonia, by the way—there’s not the slightest reason why she shouldn’t get over it.’

  She went away, closing the door very gently behind her, and Arabella went back to the bed. Nanny was awake. What was more, it was plain to see that she had heard their conversation. Arabella caught the old lady’s hand in hers and said fiercely: ‘She was only joking, Nanny—of course you’ll stay here.’

  ‘That’s why I wanted you here, Miss Arabella— I guessed, you see—but you can’t do anything about it.’ Nanny’s voice was quavery and a bit thin, but there was no doubt that she was compos mentis. ‘They’ll move me to one of those homes where no one wants you.’

  ‘They won’t,’ declared Arabella. ‘Why, Nanny, you’re only just a little over sixty, and I promise you that you shan’t go into a home—I’ll think of something, you see if I don’t. Now I’m going to give you a drink and make you comfortable and you’re going to sleep—you’ll feel better in the morning.’

  Nanny submitted to Arabella’s capable hands, muttering from time to time that the boot was on the other foot now, and did Miss Arabella remember sitting on her knee and having her face washed?

  Arabella answered in a soothing way as she settled her patient for the night, and presently Nanny went to sleep and Arabella was able to pull up a chair and sit down close to the bed. She was sleepy herself by now, but there was no question of her leaving the old lady and no one had come to see if she needed anything. She hadn’t expected that. She turned out the lights but for a shaded lamp by the chair, made up the fire and prepared to stay the night. Nanny’s everlasting knitting lay on the chest of drawers. Arabella picked it up—socks for the twins; one was completed, the other half done; she began to turn the heel, the needles clicking an accompaniment to her busy thoughts. If her uncle intended to send Nanny away, she would have to do something about it. The obvious thing was to find a small flat or rooms close to Wickham’s and live out so that Nanny could live with her. Once she had finished her training she would be able to get a job at a smaller hospital in a provincial town where they would be able to make a life for themselves. She would have to work fast, though, and Nanny would have to get better quickly so that there would be no excuse to send her to hospital. Perhaps when she wakened they could have a little talk.

  The quiet knock at the door surprised her. She got up and opened it soundlessly and found Gideon there. His eyes went past her into the quiet little room. ‘I was told that you had gone to bed.’

  ‘Hilary isn’t here.’ Arabella’s whisper was tart.

  He took no notice at all of this but stretched out an arm and pulled the door to. ‘You didn’t know that Nanny was so ill—Hilary didn’t tell you.’ His eyes searched her tired face. ‘I’m right, am I not?’

  She answered him in a haughty voice sadly at variance with her untidy hair and unmade-up face. ‘I don’t want to talk about it. I’m going back to sit with Nanny.’

  ‘You’ve been on duty all day; you must have some sleep.’

  Her whisper was choked with temper. ‘And while I sleep, perhaps she’ll be moved to hospital, and when she’s better they’ll put her in an old people’s home. I won’t leave her until she’s well enough to come with me,’ she finished with wild inaccuracy.

  He put his hands on her shoulders and kept them there, although she tried to shrug them away.

  ‘Listen to me, Arabella—you will do as I say. You will go to bed now and I will sit with Nanny, and I give you my word that no one shall take her away. You have every reason to be angry with me, but trust me in this. Perhaps in the morning it will be possible to sort this whole matter out.’

  She stared up at him. Even while boiling with rage against him, she trusted him too. ‘What about you?’ she asked.

  ‘I haven’t been on duty all day,’ he pointed out in a matter-of-fact voice. ‘Tell me what there is to do.’

  She told him. ‘I’ll be back by six,’ she added, ‘though I don’t think you ought to…’

  ‘Probably you don’t, Arabella.’ He gave her a gentle push. ‘Good night.’

  She hesitated. ‘But didn’t you want to see Hilary?’

  A muscle at the corner of his mouth twitched. ‘I don’t remember saying that.’ He opened the door and disappeared into Nanny’s room.

  It was half past six when Arabella wakened. She was out of bed in a flash and bundled in her dressing gown, went quietly through the house to the invalid’s room. Nanny was awake, looking pale and wan but decidedly better. Moreover, she was sipping a cup of tea, and the doctor, sitting comfortably in the chair by the bed, was having one with her.

  He looked up as Arabella went in, said: ‘Hello—have some tea,’ and offered his chair.

  ‘I overslept,’ explained Arabella, a little breathless. ‘I’m so sorry. Thank you very much for staying with Nanny—you must think me a very stupid sort of person, but now it’s morning, it doesn’t seem as bad.’

  ‘I don’t think you stupid; it is I who have been stupid, and I agree wholeheartedly, now it is morning, it doesn’t seem so bad.’

  Arabella had kissed Nanny Bliss and accepted a cup of tea. Now she perched on the end of the bed to drink it. ‘Where did you get it?’ she asked.

  ‘Miss Bliss was good enough to tell me where I might find the kitchen—after that it was merely a simple process of elimination. I’m handy around the house, you know.’

  The invalid gave a ghost of a chuckle. ‘You’re a proper tease, young man. That was a nice chat we had, though.’

  ‘Oh, Nanny, you’re better.’ Arabella gulped her tea and beamed with relief. ‘We’ll have you as fit as a fiddle in no time. Does Doctor West come today?’

  ‘Yes.’ The elderly face looked suddenly anxious, so that Arabella said briskly. ‘Good—he’ll have you on your feet in a few days. Won’t he?’ She addressed the doctor, who said at once: ‘Undoubtedly—I can see no reason to doubt that.’ He got up and tidied the cups and saucers onto a tray, yawning prodigiously. ‘I don’t think there is any need to mention that I have been here, do you? It might shake your aunt’s sense of hospitality.’ He strolled to the door, looking very spruce although he needed a shave. ‘Good morning to you both.’

  Neither lady spoke for a few minutes after he had gone until Nanny, who appeared to have taken on a new lease of life, remarked: ‘A nice young man, Miss Arabella, no one would ever know that he wasn’t English.’ High praise indeed from Nanny Bliss!

  Arabella agreed with her as she started on the early morning chores. Nanny was right. Gideon was nice; more than that, he was wonderful and kind and deserved the best from life—only the best for him was Hilary, who didn’t love him. She was aroused from her thoughts by Nanny saying:

  ‘He’s still Mr Right, isn’t he, Miss Arabella?’ and was startled into replying:

  ‘Oh, Nanny, yes!’

  An hour later, with Nanny coaxed to take nourishment and ni
cely settled against her pillows, Arabella went to dress and go down to breakfast. Everyone was already at table, even Hilary, looking more eye-catching than ever. Arabella was greeted with slightly frosty kindness by her uncle and aunt, shouts of welcome by the twins and a punctilious good morning from the doctor, followed by general enquiries as to Nanny’s condition, although no one waited to hear her answer. It was Hilary who said gaily; just as though they had parted the best of friends the night before:

  ‘Good old Bella, what should we do without you? You look peaked, though, darling—are you starting a cold? If you are, for heaven’s sake keep away from me, you know how I hate catching the beastly things.’

  She turned to Gideon, who, Arabella perceived, looked as though he had slept the clock round and then had a valet to dress him. ‘Gideon, Mother says you have to go again this morning.’ She pouted prettily. ‘I’ve hardly seen you. I know what I’ll do— I’ll come back with you to London. Perhaps we could have lunch?’

  Her smile was enough to turn any man’s head.

  ‘That would be a pleasure, Hilary, but I thought that you would be remaining to look after Miss Bliss.’

  The smile cracked briefly and became whole again. ‘But there’s no need now that Bella’s here—she always was Nanny’s pet and she can manage her far better than any of us.’ She laughed across the table at Arabella, but the sting was there. Just the same, Arabella went on eating her breakfast as though she hadn’t been listening.

  The doctor buttered a piece of toast and spread it with marmalade, his eyes intent upon it.

  ‘They’re dreadfully short-staffed on the Private Wing,’ confided Hilary. ‘If I go back today, it might help a little.’

  The doctor looked up briefly. ‘I thought of leaving in a couple of hours—will that suit you?’

  ‘Perfectly.’ Hilary’s smile was radiant. Arabella, watching from over the rim of her cup, saw the full force of it directed against Gideon—he must be completely dazzled, only if he was, he was holding his feelings well in hand.