Nurse James had come back with the news that there was a major accident just in and there was no one available right away. ‘Never mind, Nurse—Sir Benjamin is here, so we’re all right. Now go to theatre, will you…’ She passed on Uncle Ben’s wishes and turned back to the patient. He was semi-conscious by now and the bandages and dressing were off. ‘Dear, dear,’ observed Uncle Ben in his mildest voice. ‘Apply pressure, Sister, will you? Raf, can you get at it with the forceps while I swab?’
Professor van Tellerinck, in waistcoat and shirt sleeves, somehow contrived to look elegant despite the messy job he was doing. He was very efficient too; Katrina’s head was almost fully occupied with what she was doing, but a tiny corner of it registered that fact, and another one too, that she was pleased to see him again, which seemed strange since she hadn’t liked him over-much. Probably it was just relief at his timely help. He hadn’t spoken to her, indeed, she wasn’t sure that he had even looked at her; in the circumstances that was to be expected. He had found the slipped ligature and had put on a Spencer Wells and the two men were carefully checking that there was no further trouble.
Uncle Ben unbent slowly. ‘Something big in the Accident Room, did I hear Nurse say? In that case, Raf, be good enough to give me a hand, will you?’
The theatre trolley and the two student nurses arrived together. Katrina told one of them to go with the patient to theatre and with the help of the other nurse, started to clear up; it took some time to get everything clean and ready for the man’s return and it was time for the nurses to go off duty when they had done. Katrina sent them away and greeted the night nurses with the suggestion that they should get started with their evening routine while she got down to the report. She had written it, read it to the night staff nurse and was back in her office when the patient came back, and because the two nurses were changing a dressing and there was no one else available, she saw him safely back into his bed, still groggy from the anaesthetic. She was checking the drip when Uncle Ben arrived and wanted to know why she was still there and when she explained, he gave a snort of impatience and walked off to the Office to telephone.
Katrina hadn’t realised that the Professor was there too, standing quietly watching her. His silence was a little unnerving, and, as she knew that despite the fact that she had cleaned herself up as best she could she looked a mess, her pretty features assumed a haughtiness which sat ill upon them.
‘I wouldn’t have believed it,’ observed the Professor suddenly. ‘When we met I assumed you to be a young lady of leisure with nothing more on her mind than the latest fashions and the current boy-friend.’
She gave him a cross look and said peevishly: ‘Indeed? Just as I was amazed to find that you were a surgeon.’
He looked amused. ‘Oh, should I look like one?’
She ignored that. ‘I had the strong impression that you did nothing at all.’
‘Oh, dear—we seem to have started off on the wrong foot, don’t we?’
Several rather pert answers flashed through her tired mind. Luckily she had no opportunity of uttering any of them, for Mr Crewe, his supper pint already forgotten, was demanding more beer. ‘Excuse me,’ said Katrina austerely, and went into the ward to do battle, telling the junior night nurse to stay with the man until he was quite round from his anaesthetic. She subdued Mr Crewe quietly but briskly, did a quick round to wish her patients goodnight and went back to the Office, where she tidied her desk and thought about the Professor. She had to admit that she had been surprised to discover that he was a surgeon, he had given all the appearance of the man of leisure and she had gained the impression, quite erroneously, as it had turned out, that he was—well, lazy, at least easygoing, but he had done a very neat job without fuss. And so he ought, if he’s anything of a surgeon, she muttered to herself as she swept the last lot of papers into a drawer, yawning widely as she did so; it had been a long day.
And not over yet, it seemed. Uncle Ben, coming in as she was on the point of going out, stopped her with a brisk: ‘Finished, Kate? You’ll have had no supper, I’ll be bound—I’ll take you back with me for a meal. Go and clean yourself up and be downstairs in ten minutes.’
Professor van Tellerinck had followed her uncle. He was leaning against the wall now, smiling a little, which needled her so much that she said far too quickly. ‘That’s awfully kind of you, Uncle Ben, but I can get something on my way to the home. It’s far too late to bother Aunt Lucy. Will the man do?’
‘I think so. We found another slipped ligature, but he’s well and truly tied now. By the way, I asked Night Sister to send someone along to keep an eye on him for a few hours. Now hurry up, girl, or your aunt will nag me.’
Katrina chuckled. Aunt Lucy was a dear little dumpling of a woman who had never nagged anyone in her life; she had the kindest of hearts and a sunny disposition and spoilt Uncle Ben quite shamelessly.
‘All right, I’d love to come if I won’t be a nuisance.’
She parted with the two men at the ward doors, sternly recommended by Uncle Ben not to be more than the time he had stated, and not quite sure whether she should say goodbye to his companion or not. She compromised with a social smile and a little nod.
She showered and changed into a silk blouse and a pleated skirt and topped them with a thick knitted jacket. With her hair unpinned from the rather severe style she wore under her cap, and hanging about her shoulders, she looked prettier than ever, but she wasted little time on either her face or her hair. With barely a minute to spare she raced through the hospital to the front entrance, to find Uncle Ben there and the Dutchman as well. She wasn’t sure if she was pleased or annoyed about that, but she was given no time to decide. Uncle Ben caught her by the arm and hurried her across the courtyard to fetch up beside a Bentley Corniche.
Katrina, breathing rather rapidly because she had had to hurry, and looking quite magnificent, let out a loud sigh.
‘Uncle Ben, is it yours? It’s super!’
‘Don’t be a fool, my dear, it’s Raf’s.’
She glanced at the Dutchman and found him watching her, his sleepy eyes alert beneath their lids. She said rather lamely: ‘Oh, how nice,’ and watched his smile as he opened the door and ushered her into the front seat. Probably he drove abominably, she told herself as Uncle Ben made himself comfortable in the back and the Professor got behind the wheel. But he didn’t, he drove superbly, placidly unconcerned with the traffic around them, taking advantage of every foot of space, using the big car’s power to slide past everything else. Katrina allowed herself to relax thankfully and just for a moment closed her eyes.
‘Never tell me you’re tired,’ murmured the Professor in a hatefully soft voice, ‘a great strapping girl like you.’
‘I am not…’ began Katrina in a strangled voice, and stopped; he was trying to make her lose her temper, and she wasn’t going to. ‘You’re not exactly a lightweight yourself,’ she observed sweetly.
‘For which I am profoundly thankful,’ he assured her. ‘I like to look down on my women.’
‘I am not,’ said Katrina in a furious rush, ‘one of your women!’
‘Oh, no, you don’t resemble any of the girls I know—they’re slim and small and mostly plaintive.’
‘I’m not surprised,’ she snapped, ‘if they know you.’
He had a nice laugh. ‘I think we’re going to enjoy getting to know each other, Kate.’
They were in Highgate Village now, close to Uncle Ben’s house, and as he slowed and stopped before its gate she had what she hoped was the last word. ‘Think what you like, Professor van Tellerinck, but I have no wish to get to know you.’
He only laughed again.
CHAPTER TWO
UNCLE BEN’S HOUSE was a Regency villa standing in its own immaculately kept garden, well back from the road. Aunt Lucy flung the