Nanny by Chance Read online

  ‘Yes, oh, yes. You have no idea.’ It seemed the most natural thing in the world to tell him, and, for the moment, the delight of finding him there just when she wanted him so badly had overridden all her good resolutions not to see him again, to forget him…

  He said calmly in a voice she wouldn’t have dreamt of disobeying, ‘Come with me,’ and he urged her across the corridor and into a room at its end.

  ‘I can’t come in here,’ said Araminta. ‘It’s the consultants’ room. I’m not allowed…’

  ‘I’m a consultant and I’m allowing you. Sit down, Mintie, and tell me why you are so upset.’

  He handed her a very white handkerchief. ‘Mop up your face, stop crying and begin at the beginning.’

  She stopped crying and mopped her face, but to begin at the beginning was impossible. She told him everything, muddling its sequence, making no excuses. ‘And, of course, I’ll be given the sack,’ she finished. ‘I was so rude to Sister Spicer, and anyway, she said I was no good, that I’d never make a nurse.’

  She gave a sniff and blew her nose vigorously. ‘It’s kind of you to listen; I don’t know why I had to behave like that. At least, I do, I had been looking forward to my days off, and I would have been home by now. But it’s all my own fault; I’m just not cut out to be a nurse. But that doesn’t matter,’ she added defiantly. ‘There are any number of careers these days.’

  The doctor made no comment. All he said was, ‘Go and wait in the nurses’ sitting room until I send you a message. No, don’t start asking questions. I’ll explain later.’

  He led her back, saw her on her way and went without haste to the Principal Nursing Officer’s office. He was there for some time, using his powers of persuasion, cutting ruthlessly through rules and regulations with patience and determination which couldn’t be gainsaid.

  Araminta found several of her new friends in the sitting room, and it was Molly who asked, ‘Not gone yet?’ and then, when she saw Araminta’s face, added, ‘Come and sit down. We were just wondering if we’d go down to the corner and get some chips.’

  Araminta said carefully, ‘I meant to go home this evening, but I got held up. I—I was rude to Sister Spicer. I expect I’ll be dismissed.’

  She didn’t feel like a grown woman, more like a disobedient schoolgirl and she despised herself for it.

  Molly said bracingly, ‘It can’t be as bad as all that, Mintie. You’ll see, when you come back from your days off you’ll find it will all have blown over.’

  Araminta shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. You see, Molly, I think Sister Spicer is probably right; I’m not very efficient, and I’m slow. I like looking after people and somehow there’s never enough time. Oh, you know what I mean—someone wants a bed pan but I’m not allowed to give it because the consultant is due in five minutes—that sort of thing.’

  ‘You’ve not been happy here, have you, Mintie?’

  ‘No, to be honest I haven’t. I think it will be best if I go and see the Principal Nursing Officer and tell her I’d like to leave.’

  ‘You don’t want to give it another try?’ someone asked, but Araminta didn’t answer because the warden had put her head round the corner.

  ‘Nurse Pomfrey, you’re to go to the consultants’ room immediately.’

  She went out, banging the door after her.

  ‘Mintie, whatever is happening? Why do you have to go there?’

  Araminta was at the door. ‘I’ll come back and tell you,’ she promised.

  Dr van der Breugh was standing with his vast back to the room, looking out of the window, when she knocked and went in. He turned round and gave her a thoughtful look before he spoke.

  ‘Have you decided what you want to do?’

  ‘Yes, I’ll go and ask if I may leave. At once, if that’s allowed. But I don’t suppose it is.’

  ‘And what do you intend to do?’

  ‘It’s kind of you to ask, doctor,’ said Araminta, hoping that her voice wouldn’t wobble. ‘I shall go home and then look for the kind of job I can do. Probably they will take me back at the convalescent home.’

  They wouldn’t; someone had taken her place and there was no need of her services there now. But he wasn’t to know that.

  ‘I feel responsible for this unfortunate state of affairs,’ said the doctor slowly, ‘for it was I who persuaded you to look after the twins and then arranged for you to come here. I should have known that it would be difficult for you, having to catch up with the other students. And Sister Spicer…’

  He came away from the window. ‘Sit down, Mintie, I have a suggestion to make to you. I do so reluctantly, for you must have little faith in my powers to help you. I have a patient whose son is the owner and headmaster of a boys’ prep school at Eastbourne. I saw her today and she told me that he is looking urgently for a temporary assistant matron. The previous one left unexpectedly to nurse her mother and doesn’t know when she intends to return. I gave no thought to it until I saw you this evening. Would you consider going there? You would need to be interviewed, of course, but it is a job with which you are already familiar.’

  ‘Little boys? But how can I take the job? I am not sure, but I expect I’d have to give some sort of notice.’ She added sharply, ‘Of course I have faith in you, I’m very grateful that you should have thought of me.’

  ‘But if it could be arranged, you would like the job, provided the interview was satisfactory?’

  ‘Yes. You see, that’s something I can do—little boys and babies and girls.’ She paused, then explained, ‘It’s not like nursing.’

  ‘No, I realise that. So you are prepared to give it a try? I have seen the Principal Nursing Officer. If you go her office now you may make a request to leave. It is already granted, but you need to go through the motions. I will contact my patient and ask her to arrange things with her son. You should hear shortly.’

  He went to the door and opened it for her. ‘I will drive you home tomorrow morning. Ten o’clock in the forecourt.’

  ‘There is really no need…’ began Araminta. ‘I’m perfectly able…’

  ‘Yes, yes, I know, but I have no time in which to argue about it. Kindly do as I ask, Mintie.’

  If he had called her Miss Pomfrey in his usually coolly civil way, she would have persisted in arguing, but he had called her Mintie, in a voice kind enough to dispel any wish to argue with him. Besides, she loved him, and when you love someone, she had discovered, you wish to do everything to please them.

  She said, ‘Very well, doctor,’ and added politely, ‘Good evening.’

  She went off to the office, buoyed up by the knowledge that if Marcus had said that everything was arranged, then that would be so and she had no need to worry. She knocked and, bidden to enter, received a bracing but kind lecture, a recommendation to find work more suited to her capabilities and permission to leave.

  ‘Be sure and hand in your uniform and notify the warden. There is no need for you to see Sister Spicer.’ She was offered a hand. ‘I have no doubt that you will find exactly what you want, Nurse.’

  So Araminta shook hands and got herself out of the office, leaving her superior thoughtful. Really, Dr van der Breugh had gone to great lengths to arrange the girl’s departure. After all, he wasn’t responsible for her, whatever he said. The Principal Nursing Officer wouldn’t have allowed her arm to be twisted by anyone else but him; she liked him and respected him and so did everyone else at the hospital. All the same, he must be interested—such a plain little thing, too.

  Araminta went back to the sitting room and half a dozen pairs of eyes fastened on her as she went in.

  ‘Well?’ asked Molly. ‘Who was it? What’s happened? Was Sister Spicer there?’

  Araminta shook her head. ‘No, just me. I’m leaving in the morning…’

  ‘But you can’t. I mean, you have to give notice that you want to, and reasons.’

  Araminta decided to explain. ‘Well, I didn’t come with the rest of you because I was
asked to take on a job in an emergency. I did tell you that. But the thing is the person I worked for was Dr van der Breugh—with his nephews—and I went to look after them provided he would do his best to get me a place here as soon as possible. Well, he did, but it hasn’t worked out, so now he has arranged for me to leave. The Principal Nursing Officer was very nice about it.’

  There was a chorus of voices. ‘What will you do? Try another hospital? Find another job?’

  ‘Go home.’

  Molly said, ‘It’s good of Dr van der Breugh to help you. I can quite see that he feels responsible—I mean, you obliged him in the first place, didn’t you?’

  ‘Yes. And he did warn me that he didn’t think I’d be any good at nursing. Only I’d set my heart on it. I’ll start again, but not just yet.’

  ‘If you’re going in the morning you’ll have to pack and sort out your uniform. We’ll give you a hand.’

  So several of them went to Araminta’s room and helped her to pack. She went in search of the warden and handed in her uniform, taking no heed of the lecture she was given by that lady, and presently they all went down to supper and then to make tea and talk about it, so that Araminta had no time at all to think or make plans. Which was a good thing, for her head was in a fine muddle. Tomorrow, she told herself, she would sit down quietly and think things out. Quite what she meant by that she didn’t know.

  She woke very early, her head full of her meeting with the doctor. It was wonderful that he had come into her life once more—surely for the last time. And since he had gone to so much trouble she would take this job at Eastbourne and stay there for as long as they would have her. It was work she could do, she would have some money, she could go home in the holidays and she would take care never to see Marcus again. That shouldn’t be difficult, for he had never shown a wish to see more of her. She got up, and dressed, then said goodbye to her friends, and promptly at ten o’clock went down to the entrance with her case. She hadn’t been particularly happy at the hospital but all the same she felt regret at leaving it.

  The doctor came to meet her, took her case and put it in the boot, and settled her beside him in the car. He had wished her good morning, taken a look at her face and then decided to say nothing more for the moment. Mintie wasn’t a girl to cry easily, he was sure, but he suspected that there were plenty more tears from where the last outburst had come, and it would only need a wrong word to start them off.

  He drove out of the forecourt into the morning traffic.

  ‘We will go home and have coffee, for Briskett wants to bid you goodbye. You have an appointment to see Mr Gardiner at three o’clock this afternoon. He will be at the Red Lion in Henley. Ask for him at Reception.’

  He didn’t ask her if she had changed her mind, and he had nothing further to say until he stopped in front of his house.

  Briskett had the door open before they reached it, delighted to see her again.

  ‘There’s coffee in the small sitting room,’ said Briskett, ‘and I’ll have your coat, Miss Pomfrey.’

  They sat opposite each other by the fire, drinking Briskett’s delicious coffee and eating his little vanilla biscuits, and the doctor kept up an undemanding conversation: the boys were fine, he had seen them on the previous weekend, they were all going over to Friesland for Christmas. ‘They sent their love—they miss you, Mintie.’

  He didn’t add that he missed her, too. He must go slowly, allow her to find her feet, prove to herself that she could make a success of a job. He had admitted to himself that she had become the one thing that really mattered to him, that he loved her. He had waited a long time to find a woman to love, and now that he had he was willing to wait for her to feel the same way, something which might take time…

  He drove her to Hambledon later, and once more found the house empty save for a delighted Cherub. There was another note, too, and, unlike Briskett, the doctor coolly took it from Araminta’s hand when she had read it.

  The cousin had gone to Kingston to shop and would be back after tea. He put the note back, ignoring her indignant look, and glanced around him. Briskett had given a faithful description of the house: pleasant, old-fashioned solid furniture and lacking a welcome.

  ‘It’s a good thing, really,’ said Araminta. ‘I’ve an awful lot to do, especially if I get this job and they want me as soon as possible.’

  He rightly took this as a strong hint that he should go. He would have liked to have taken her somewhere for a meal but she would have refused. When she thanked him for the lift and his help in getting her another job, he made a noncommittal reply, evincing no wish to see her again, but wishing her a happy future. And in a month or two he would contrive to see her again…

  Araminta, wishing him goodbye and not knowing that, felt as though her heart would break—hearts never did, of course, but it was no longer a meaningless nonsense.

  But there was little time to indulge in unhappiness. In three hours’ time she would have to be at the Red Lion in Henley, and in the meantime there was a lot to do.

  There had been no time to have second thoughts; that evening, washing and ironing, sorting out what clothes she would take with her while she listened to her cousin’s chatter, Araminta wondered if she had been too hasty.

  Mr Gardiner had been no time-waster. He was a man of early middle age, quiet and taciturn, asking her sensible questions and expecting sensible answers. His need for an assistant matron was urgent, with upwards of fifty little boys and Matron run off her feet. He’d read her credentials, then voiced the opinion that they seemed satisfactory.

  ‘In any case,’ he told her, ‘my mother tells me that Dr van der Breugh is a man of integrity and highly respected. He gave you a most satisfactory reference. Now, as to conditions and salary…’

  He dealt with these quite swiftly and asked, ‘Are you prepared to come? As soon as possible?’ He smiled suddenly. ‘Could you manage tomorrow?’

  The sooner she had something to occupy her thoughts the better, reflected Araminta. She agreed to start on the following day. ‘In the late afternoon? Would that do? There are several things I must see to…’

  ‘Of course, we’ll expect you around teatime. Take a taxi from the station and put it down to expenses. I don’t suppose you have a uniform? I’ll get Matron to find something.’

  He had given her tea and she had come back home to find her cousin returned. A good thing, for she’d offered to cook them a meal while Araminta began on her packing. She’d phoned her mother later to tell her that she had left the hospital and was taking up a job as an assistant school matron.

  ‘What a good idea,’ observed her parent comfortably. ‘You liked the convalescent home, didn’t you? A pity you couldn’t have stayed with Dr van der Breugh’s nephews, for it seems to me, my love, that you are cut out to be a homebody. I’m sure you will be very happy at Eastbourne.

  ‘We shall be home very shortly and we must make plans for Christmas. We still have a good deal of research to do and the publishers are anxious for us to have our book ready by the spring, but we shall be home soon, although we may need to make a trip to Cornwall—there have been some interesting discoveries made near Bodmin.’

  Araminta was sorry to leave Cherub once again. It was fortunate that he was a self-sufficient cat, content as long as he was fed and could get in and out of the house. Araminta, on her way to Eastbourne the next day, wondered if it would be possible for her to have him with her at the school. There was a flatlet, Mr Gardiner had told her, and Cherub would be happy in her company. She would wait until she had been there for a time and then see what could be done. It depended very much on the matron she would be working with. Araminta, speculating about her, decided that no one could be worse than Sister Spicer…

  The school was close to the sea front, a large rambling place surrounded by a high brick wall, but the grounds around it were ample; there were tennis courts and a covered swimming pool and a cricket pitch. And the house looked welcoming.

&nbs
p; She was admitted by a friendly girl who took her straight to Mr Gardiner’s office. He got up to shake hands, expressed pleasure at her arrival and suggested that she might like to go straight to Matron.

  ‘I’ll take you up and leave you to get acquainted. The boys will be at supper very shortly, and then they have half an hour’s recreation before bed. Perhaps you could work alongside Matron for a while this evening and get some idea of the work?’

  Matron had a sitting room and a bedroom on the first floor next to the sick bay. She was a youngish woman with a round, cheerful face and welcomed Araminta warmly. Over a pot of tea she expressed her relief at getting help.

  ‘It’s a good job here,’ she observed. ‘The Gardiners are very kind and considerate, but it does need two of us. You like small boys? Mr Gardiner told me that you had worked with them.’

  She took Araminta along to her room presently, at the other end of the house but on the same floor. It was quite large, with a shower room leading from it, an electric fire, a gas ring and a kettle. It was comfortably furnished and on the bed there was an assortment of blue and white striped dresses.

  ‘I’ve done the best I could,’ said Matron. ‘See if any of them fit—the best of them can be altered.’ She hesitated. ‘Mr Gardiner always calls me Matron—but the name’s Pagett, Norma. I should call you Matron as well, when the boys are around, but…’ She paused enquiringly.

  ‘Would you call me Mintie? It’s Araminta, really, but almost no one calls me that. Do I call you Miss Pagett?’

  ‘Heavens no, call me Norma. I’m sure we shall get on well together.’

  Norma went back to her room and left Araminta to try on the dresses. One or two were a tolerable fit, so she changed, unpacked her few things and went back to Norma’s room.

  There was just time to be given a brief resumé of her work before the boys’ suppertime, and presently, presiding over a table of small boys gobbling their suppers, Araminta felt a surge of content. She wasn’t happy, but it seemed that she had found the right job at last—and who could be miserable with all these little boys talking and shouting, pushing and shoving and then turning into pious little angels when Mr Gardiner said grace at the end of the meal?