The Doctor’s Girl. Бетти Нилс

I was?’

      ‘I saw you at the hospital. I’ve come to ask a favour of you.’

      ‘Me? A favour?’ She glanced round her. ‘But I’m hardly in a position to grant a favour.’

      ‘May we sit down?’ And when she was in the armchair he sat carefully on the old kitchen chair opposite. ‘But first, may I ask why you are here? You were with Miss Cattell, were you not?’

      ‘Well, yes, but I dropped a vase, a very expensive one…’

      ‘So she slapped you and sent you packing?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘So why are you here?’

      ‘Mrs Branch, she is Miss Cattell’s cook, sent me here because Mrs Slade who owns it is her sister and I had nowhere to go.’

      The doctor took off his specs, polished them, and put them back on. He observed pleasantly, ‘There’s a cat under the bed.’

      ‘Yes, I know. He’s starving. I’m going to look after him.’

      The doctor sighed silently. Not only was he about to take on a mousy girl with a black eye but a stray cat too. He must be mad!

      ‘The favour I wish to ask of you: my receptionist at my consulting rooms has had to return home at a moment’s notice; would you consider taking her place until she returns? It isn’t a difficult job—opening the post, answering the phone, dealing with patients. The hours are sometimes odd, but it is largely a matter of common sense.’

      Loveday sat and looked at him. Finally, since he was sitting there calmly waiting for her to speak, she said, ‘I can type and do shorthand, but I don’t understand computers. I don’t think it would do because of my eye—and I can’t leave the cat.’

      ‘I don’t want you to bother with computers, but typing would be a bonus, and you have a nice quiet voice and an unobtrusive manner—both things which patients expect and do appreciate. As for the cat, I see no reason why you shouldn’t keep it.’

      ‘Isn’t it a long way from here to where you work? I do wonder why you have come here. I mean, there must be any number of suitable receptionists from all those agencies.’

      ‘Since Miss Priss went two days ago I have endured the services of a charming young lady who calls my patients “dear” and burst into tears because she broke her nail on the typewriter. She is also distractingly pretty, which is hardly an asset for a job such as I’m offering you. I do not wish to be distracted, and my patients have other things on their minds besides pretty faces.’

      Which meant, when all was said and done, that Loveday had the kind of face no one would look at twice. Background material, that’s me, thought Loveday.

      ‘And where will I live?’

      ‘There is a very small flat on the top floor of the house where I have my rooms. There are two other medical men there, and of course the place is empty at night. You could live there—and the cat, if you wish.’

      ‘You really mean that?’

      All at once he looked forbidding. ‘I endeavour to say what I mean, Miss West.’

      She made haste to apologise. ‘What I really mean is that you don’t know anything about me and I don’t know anything about you. We’re strangers, aren’t we? And yet here you are, offering me a job,’ she added hastily, in case he had second thoughts. ‘It sounds too good to be true.’

      ‘Nevertheless, it is a genuine offer of work—and do not forget that only the urgency of my need for adequate help has prompted me to offer you the job. You are at liberty to leave if you should wish to do so, providing you give me adequate time to find a replacement. If Miss Priss should return she would, of course, resume her work; that is a risk for you.’ He smiled suddenly. ‘We are both taking a risk, but it is to our advantage that we should help each other.’