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A Star Looks Down Page 3


  ' He looked at her anxiously.

  "It's only for a week.

  ' She stared at him across the table.

  "And supposing I should decide to do it, who is going to tell me what

  and when and where?

  ' He brightened.

  "Profess or van Zeust said he'd make a point of seeing you

  tomorrow-there's another kidney transplant, isn't there?

  I shall be in theatre too," he paused to contemplate this pleasure,

  then went on: "There's sure to be an opportunity to talk about it.

  I say, Beth, it would be jolly decent of you if you would, it'd do me a

  good turn I mean, they're more likely to remember me later on if there

  was the chance of a registrar's job.

  ' Beth got up and started to collect the dishes.

  "Well, dear, I'm not going to say yes now, but I do promise to have an

  open mind if he says anything to me about it tomorrow, though probably

  he'll have got someone else by then.

  ' But while she washed up she found herself hoping that the profess or

  wouldn't be able to find anyone else, even though before she went to

  bed she told William firmly that she hadn't made up her mind.

  .

  .

  all the same, when she got into bed, she stayed awake quite a long

  while thinking about him.

  CHAPTER TWO beth was on duty at eight o'clock the following morning

  and within a very short time the theatre was in full swing.

  She had fetched the kidney transplant case--a young girl in her

  teens--handed her over and gone again to collect the first of a long

  list of cases for the other theatres.

  The kidney case lasted a long time; it was early afternoon before she

  received the girl in the Recovery Room and although Profess or van

  Zeust came with his colleague to see her, he had nothing to say other

  than a few quiet directions.

  They went away presently and later, after Beth had taken her case to

  ICU, an emergency came in and she was kept busy until some time after

  she was due off duty.

  Of the profess or there was no sign, and she left the hospital feeling

  a bit let down; he might at least have given her the chance of refusing

  the job which he had so surprisingly suggested she might take.

  True, there had been no time to say anything at all for most of the

  day, but he could have left a message.

  Probably he had found someone else after all and forgotten about the

  whole thing.

  She arrived at the flat rather cross, and over a cup of tea decided

  that nothing would persuade her to take the job now, even if he begged

  her to, and as this was highly unlikely she stopped thinking about it,

  drained the teapot, ate a piece of toast left over from breakfast, and

  fell to washing the smalls before getting the supper.

  William would be home shortly, before going back to St Elmer's at ten

  o'clock to be on call for twenty-four hours, and he would be hungry, as

  usual.

  It was unfortunate that the kitty was at a low ebb, but it always was

  just before pay day.

  She settled on a macaroni cheese, made it rather impatiently and went

  to her room to tidy herself.

  The flat, the top floor of a Victorian house which had seen better

  days, was cramped and a bit dark and her room was small and cramped

  too, but she rather liked the view over the chimney pots; it was better

  than the houses opposite and the sky gave her a feeling of space.

  She wasted a few minutes now, looking out and thinking about Chifney,

  where there were only trees and fields, and the chimney pots, when

  visible, fitted cosily into the scenery around them.

  Her room was nicely furnished, though, with bits and pieces her

  stepbrother had allowed them to take with them when they had left home,

  and she kept the flat sparklingly clean and somehow managed to have

  flowers in it.

  She brushed her hair and tied it back, so that it hung in a thick

  shower down her back, re-did her face without much enthusiasm, not

  seeing her lovely eyes and splendid hair, only the ordinariness of her

  features, then twitched and pulled her brown tweed skirt and sweater

  into place.

  She was heartily sick of them both, but William needed shoes again and

  the money he had been saving for them he had spent, naturally enough,

  he conceded, on a wildly expensive waistcoat; she would have to help

  him out and put off buying a new outfit for herself for just a little

  longer.

  She wandered back to the sitting room, shook up a few cushions and then

  pottered into the kitchen to see how the macaroni cheese was coming

  along.

  When the front door bell rang she banged the oven door shut with a

  touch of irritation and went to answer it, with a rather cross: "You've

  forgotten your key again.

  .

  .

  ' Only it wasn't William, it was Profess or van Zeust, looming over her

  in the narrow doorway.

  She peered round him as far as she could, and quite forgetful of her

  manners, demanded: "Where's William?

  ' His bland: "Good evening.

  Miss Partridge," reminded her of them.

  "Oh, good evening.

  Profess or.

  I'm sorry I didn't mean to be rude I thought you were William.

  Have you come to see him?

  He's late, I'm afraid, but if you would like to come in and wait?

  ' He smiled down at her.

  "William has had to fill in for the Casualty Officer.

  He asked me to tell you that he won't be home tonight.

  ' "Oh.

  ' She stood uncertainly.

  "Then why-that is.

  .

  .

  ' She stopped, not quite sure what to say next.

  After all, he was a consultant, an important man at the hospital and

  probably even more important in his own country, and she wasn't sure

  how she should address a profess or off duty.

  "If I might come in?

  ' His voice was pleasantly friendly.

  "Of course.

  You--you took me rather by surprise.

  ' She led the way into the sitting room and he paused on its threshold

  and looked about him with interest, drawing an appreciative breath as

  he did so.

  "Toasted cheese?

  ' he inquired.

  "Supper," she told him succinctly, and waved a well kept hand towards a

  chair, then sat down herself, waiting patiently for him to say whatever

  it was he had to say.

  "Your brother was kind enough to tell Profess or Mac Donald that you

  might consider looking after my sister's children while she is in

  hospital," he began without any beating about the bush, 'but before I

  say any more, I should like to know if the suggestion is agreeable to

  you.

  I understand from Profess or Mac Donald that you have a week's holiday

  and I feel bound to point out that the job is no sinecure.

  I had intended applying to an agency for some sort of help, but I

  should very much prefer that it should be someone whom I know.

  ' "But you don't know me.

  ' "You are thought of very highly at St Elmer's, and I have seen for

  myself that you don't flap.

  ' Bet
h blinked at him.

  "Are they the sort of children who might make one flap?

  ' she asked forthrightly.

  He burst out laughing.

  "Perhaps, they need firm handling.

  What do you say?

  ' She studied him carefully.

  He was nice; never mind that he was one of the best-looking men she had

  ever met, never mind the charm of his smile and his deep, quiet voice;

  he would have been just as nice if he had had a squint and outstanding

  ears.

  His hair, she noticed, was grey at the temples and his eyes were very

  blue.

  "All right," she said quietly,

  "T'll take them on.

  I'd like to know something about them, though, and does your sister

  want me to live in or go each day?

  ' "Oh, if you would live there, I think, and regarding your fee.

  .

  .

  ' he mentioned a sum which sent her arched brows flying upwards.

  "But that's heaps too much four times as much as nannies and people

  like that get.

  ' "But you will have four times as much as that to do.

  ' He spoke firmly and she had 'the feeling that if she were to argue he

  would get annoyed.

  "Very well, thank you.

  ' She smiled across at him.

  "Would you like a cup of coffee?

  ' His reply astonished her.

  "I should like to stay to supper," he said.

  She hadn't been Miss Partridge ofChifney House for nothing, she

  hastened to invite him with just the right degree of pleasure and

  served the simple meal with an aplomb which would have done justice to

  something far more elaborate.

  "I'm afraid there's no beer," she informed her guest, 'but there's

  orange squash.

  .

  .

  ' The profess or assured her that orange squash was exactly what he

  would have chosen and when Beth poured him a glass of this innocuous

  beverage, drank it with every sign of enjoyment, he ate his portion of

  macaroni cheese with a flattering appetite too, talking gently about

  this and that, so that she hardly realized that she was answering any

  number of skilfully put questions.

  By the time they were drinking their coffee she had told him quite a

  lot about Chifney as well as revealing, quite unknowingly, a good deal

  about her stepbrother.

  "You have a pleasant home here," remarked the profess or, and sounded

  as though he meant it, 'and some delightful pieces of furniture.

  ' "Aren't they?

  Philip allowed us to bring them with us, you know.

  They don't quite suit the flat, but we grew up with them.

  ' She poured more coffee for them both, feeling wonderfully at ease

  with this large, quiet man.

  She would have liked to have told him so many things and might have

  done so if she hadn't reminded herself with her usual good sense that

  all good medical men had the power of making one feel at ease and able

  to talk freely.

  She frowned, hoping she hadn't talked too much; perhaps she should

  change the conversation.

  "You were going to tell me something about your nephews and nieces,"

  she prompted him.

  "Ah, yes--but first I think we should wash up.

  ' "Wash up?

  Good heavens, no!

  I'm sure you've never washed up in your life.

  ' He smiled faintly.

  "I wonder what makes you think that?

  ' His voice held a note of inquiry and she flushed a little.

  "I didn't mean to sound rude," she assured him, 'and I can do it

  later.

  ' For answer he began to pile the plates tidily and carried them

  through to the kitchen, and it struck her that he was a man who, once

  he had made up his mind, didn't like it changed for him.

  They washed up together, talking in a casual friendly way which she

  found very pleasant, then went back to the sitting room, where the

  profess or settled himself in a chair again with the air of one staying

  for the rest of the evening.

  "About the children," he began, 'the eldest is Dirk, he's ten, then

  there is Marineka, who is eight, Hubert, seven and Alberdina, the

  littlest, who is five.

  They are normal healthy children, that is to say they are as naughty

  and disobedient as most children of their ages.

  On the whole their manners are passable, they don't sulk and I should

  say that they have a strong sense of fair play.

  They adore their mother, who spoils them, and hero-worship their

  father, an archaeologist of some repute, at present somewhere in Chile

  leading an expedition of some sort or other.

  He will be away for several more weeks, and since I had already

  accepted an invitation from St Elmer's to give a series of lectures,

  Mar tina--my sister-decided that it would be a good idea if they were

  to come over to England at the same time.

  The children, by the way, speak tolerable English; they had an English

  nanny until she left to get married a short time ago.

  ' He paused to smile.

  "You are still willing to come?

  ' Beth's wide mouth turned up its corners in a delightful smile.

  "Oh, yes.

  When do you want me to start?

  ' "I am told that your holiday starts on Sunday.

  ' He paused to ask if he might light his pipe and Beth sat composedly

  watching him, saying nothing, and presently he went on: "There is a

  housekeeper and daily help, but they aren't suitable for the

  children--besides, they have enough to do.

  You would have to be with them for most of the day, although I will

  undertake to have them with me if and when I am there.

  You are prepared for that?

  ' "Yes, of course," she assured him.

  What was curtailed freedom when it meant William's new shoes and some

  clothes for herself as well?

  "T've days off on Friday and Saturday.

  I could go along on Friday afternoon if you would like that.

  Where am I to go?

  ' He scribbled an address in his pocket book, tore out the page, and

  handed it to her.

  "Take a taxi," he advised her, 'your expenses will be paid.

  ' She glanced at the address he had written down and then looked again

  because his writing was almost illegible.

  William had been right, it was somewhere close to Harrods--a rented

  house, presumably--possibly someone he knew; doctors helped each

  other.

  .

  .

  She was aware that he had got to his feet and jumped up briskly.

  "It was kind of you to come--I quite thought you had found someone

  else.

  ' She smiled as she spoke, but he answered seriously: "No--you seemed

  so suitable, and Profess or Mac Donald thinks highly of you-I am sure

  that I could have done no better.

  ' She found this speech a little damping, so that her good-bye was

  stiff, but once she had shut the door on his broad back, she whisked to

  William's bedroom window which overlooked the street, and looked

  cautiously out, in time to see him getting into the Citroen.

  She craned her neck in order to get a better view; he must be very

  successful if he could afford to run a car costing al
most seven

  thousand pounds, even though it matched his size.

  It was disconcerting when he looked up and caught her peering down, and

  waved.

  Beth got up early on Friday morning, gave William his breakfast and a

  list of instructions which she knew very well he wouldn't attend to,

  and set about cleaning the flat.

  William, though willing, was unhandy about the house and it would

  probably be in a shocking state when she got back, but at least she

  could leave it in apple pie order.

  She sighed as she Hoovered; a holiday--a real holiday--would have been