to expect a quick conquest of any girl he cast his eyes upon, but beyond an attempt to hold her hand in the cinema which she parried without difficulty, he did nothing to which she could take exception, and when she was bidding him goodnight at the door of the Nurses’ Home with a rather brisk thank you, he had been equally casual. She had gone up to her room convinced that she had been mistaken about him after all—he was really not too bad and certainly not the wolf she had suspected.
His behaviour bore out her opinion during the subsequent days—he was friendly in a casual way both on the ward and when they met outside it, and when Ellen, the night staff nurse and one of Victoria’s closest friends, remarked one morning after she had given the report that she didn’t fancy him at all, Victoria had felt impelled to defend him.
‘He’s quite nice,’ she remarked. ‘I didn’t think I was going to like him, but he’s quiet and just friendly.’
Ellen sauntered towards the door. ‘As long as he stays that way,’ she said darkly.
It was two days later that he asked Victoria to go out with him again and she refused. Afterwards she didn’t know why she had done so, for he had proved a pleasant enough companion when they had gone to the cinema. Perhaps it was because he had suggested that they should go to a little club he knew of in Chelsea and dance that she had refused so promptly. He had said nothing, only shrugged his shoulders and said carelessly: ‘Another time, perhaps,’ but his eyes had seemed paler than ever even though he was smiling.
She hardly thought about him during the day; they were busy and although he came on to the ward several times, the only speech they had was to do with the patients.
She met him on the way off duty that evening. Men’s Medical was on the top floor, reached by a bleak corridor of the narrow, dreary type so beloved by mid-Victorian architects of hospitals. It ran through most of the wing and then turned at right angles to continue on its way to an equally bleak staircase. It was depressing, with margarine-coloured walls and mud-coloured linoleum, polished to within an inch of its life. Victoria was perhaps halfway down this miserable passage when Jeremy Blake appeared around the corner ahead of her. He was walking very fast and she supposed him to be on his way to the ward, but when he drew level with her he stopped suddenly and caught her round the waist.
‘And what do you think you’re doing?’ she demanded in a voice chilled with angry surprise.
‘Oh, come off it, Vicky, you don’t have to play the little lady with me.’
He laughed at her and for answer she attempted to remove his hands, but he only went on laughing and pulled her closer. ‘We could have fun together.’
‘I can think of nothing less likely,’ she retorted indignantly. His face was only inches from hers and although he smiled his eyes glittered and his mouth looked mean. ‘Let go!’ she ordered him furiously. ‘I don’t want to go out with you, I said so and I meant it, and I certainly wouldn’t want to go out with you again or have anything more to do with you!’
She lifted a capable hand, doubled into a fist, and pummelled his chest.
‘Playing hard to get?’ he wanted to know. ‘Shall I tell you something, girlie? I always get a bird if I want her, and here’s something on account.’
His face was very close. Victoria lifted a foot, neatly shod in its hospital regulation lace-up, and kicked his shin, and he loosened his hold. In a flash she was away, making for the bend in the passage. Once round it the stairs would be in sight and there might be someone about…
He caught up with her a couple of feet from the corner and clamped his hand on to her shoulders and forced her to a halt, turning her around to face him, but not without difficulty because she was a strong girl, then putting a hand under her chin to force her face up to his. ‘You spitfire,’ his voice was soft and unpleasant, ‘now you’ve fooled about enough!’
She couldn’t move her head, his hand was too strong. ‘I’ll scream!’ She spoke with spirit and stopped at his smile.
‘And a lot of good that will do you—you see, I shall say that I found you hysterical on my way to the ward, and you won’t stand a chance, my dear. I’ve done it before and it always works…’ He broke off, his smile frozen.
‘Er—so sorry to interrupt,’ said Doctor van Schuylen gently from somewhere behind her left ear, ‘but I think you’ve got it wrong, my dear fellow.’
Victoria felt his hand, gentle and strong, on her waist and the next moment she had been whisked to one side, allowing the doctor just enough room to knock Doctor Blake down, having done which he dusted his hands off carefully, turned his back on the prostrate form and said with an air of calm, ‘Hullo’. The smile he gave her was so kind that she would have liked to have burst into tears, but before she could do so he went on: ‘I wondered if we might go out to dinner—somewhere gay where we can dance.’ He was walking her round the corner and down the stairs as he spoke, and at the bottom Victoria stopped and put out a hand to touch his well-tailored sleeve almost timidly.
‘I must explain,’ she began, but was stopped by his quiet voice.
‘Not a word, Victoria, or I might be tempted to go back and knock the fellow down again.’
She was very sure he meant it. ‘Are you angry? He’ll be all right, won’t he?’
She felt it was a foolish question, but he stopped then, right outside Women’s Surgical where one of the Office Sisters was taking the report from Sister Kennedy. He said simply: ‘Yes, I’m angry, but don’t worry, I have an excellent control over my temper and he’s not much hurt, I believe.’ He smiled at her and she found herself smiling back. ‘I’ll be very quick,’ she assured him. ‘What time will you come for me?’
He looked at his watch. ‘Seven sharp—I must go back to the hotel and put on a black tie.’ He took her hand and held it for a moment in his and didn’t let it go when the Office Sister walked towards them. She wished them a civil good evening, looking at them with purposeful vagueness which Victoria found rather touching. She liked Office Sister, who was a widow with grown-up children, so that she treated the nurses rather in the same manner as she would have used towards her own children, and was loved for it.
When she had gone, Alexander gave her back her hand. ‘I’ll come with you as far as the Home,’ he stated calmly. ‘Do you mind where we go this evening?’
Victoria shook her head. She would have been quite happy sitting in a Wimpy Bar with him for the whole evening. At the Home door she tried to thank him again and he said: ‘No, Victoria, there’s no need to say any more— I’m only sorry I wasn’t there a few minutes sooner.’
She had her hand on the door handle. ‘I kicked him on the shin,’ she observed with belated satisfaction.
She was looking at him as she spoke and he smiled: ‘That’s my girl!’
Victoria went on staring at him. That was exactly what she was and she had only just discovered it. His girl—for ever and ever and nothing could change that. She had often wondered what it would feel like to fall in love—really in love—and now she had, suddenly. It left her bewildered and uncertain and wildly happy. She gave him a dazzling smile, repeated ‘Seven o’clock’, and went through the door.
CHAPTER THREE
VICTORIA wasted ten minutes just sitting on the edge of her bed. For part of that time she didn’t even think, only allowed her head to fill with delightful fairy stories with happy endings, but these gradually faded before common sense. That she was in love with Doctor van Schuylen she didn’t dispute, but whether he felt the same about her was another matter. She was a pretty girl, but there were other girls just as pretty—moreover, he had two countries to choose from—there might be someone in Holland. And although he had come to her aid just at the right moment that evening, he would probably have done just the same for the Old Crow. She was momentarily diverted by the picture of Sister Crow repulsing Jeremy Blake, then felt mean, because the poor Old Crow must have been rather