DURING the next week or so Victoria found herself, almost against her will, liking Nina. They had met again on the Sunday evening, when friends had turned up unexpectedly at the house at Leiden, and she had been with them. It had seemed to Victoria at the time that neither her host nor her hostess were particularly pleased to see her, although they had greeted her pleasantly enough, and as for Alexander, he had glanced up when Nina entered the room and Victoria had seen that same look on his face—impatience? annoyance? It was hard to tell, for it was gone at once and there was nothing to read from his manner, which was casual and friendly and gave no clue as to his real feelings. He chatted casually with Nina and when they parted it was with that same casual air, nothing more. Victoria told herself she was being an imaginative fool and spent the rest of the evening being very gay, and managed, almost, to forget about Nina and Alexander, who, if he had anything on his mind, was concealing it so successfully that by the end of the evening, she was lulled into admitting that she was indeed an imaginative fool.
The next few days passed pleasantly, sightseeing with Alexander’s parents and always returning in time to greet Alexander each evening, dine quietly at home and stroll in the garden, or put on her prettiest dress and go dancing in den Haag. It was halfway through the week before she saw Nina again, this time in Leiden, where Victoria was whiling away an hour strolling along Rapenburg while Mevrouw van Schuylen was at the hairdresser’s. Nina greeted her with a friendliness she found hard to resist; within ten minutes they were seated outside one of the cafés, eating ices, while Nina talked gaily about her friends, her job and the holiday she was planning. But presently Victoria found herself answering questions about herself.
‘How long have you known Alexander?’ asked Nina lightly. ‘Surely not before he went to England this year?’
‘No—I met him in Guernsey—my home’s there. And then we met again in London, at the hospital where I worked. He’s an honorary consultant there—I expect you know that.’
Nina nodded. ‘Clever man, isn’t he?’ she observed, ‘always has been, but great fun too.’ She gave Victoria a smiling look. ‘I expect you’ve discovered that for yourself, though.’ She looked at her watch. ‘I must go—I’m supposed to be collecting samples of silk. My boss has the job of redecorating the drawing room of a filthily rich old lady who doesn’t really know what she wants—just so long as it costs the earth.’ She laughed as she got to her feet. ‘We must see each other again, it’s been fun.’
They parted on the friendliest of terms and Victoria, watching her hurry back towards the town’s centre, was puzzled at the faint feeling deep inside her that despite her friendliness, Nina wasn’t really a friend at all. She shrugged away the idea and went to fetch her hostess, telling herself that she was getting altogether too fanciful. But that evening, sitting beside Alexander in the car, driving to Noordwijk aan Zee to dance and dine there, she told him of the meeting and had been a little disturbed at the sternness of his mouth and the little frown between his eyes.
‘I had no idea she was in Leiden,’ he said rather shortly. ‘I imagined she worked in den Haag. To tell you the truth, we haven’t met for some time—I’ve rather lost touch.’
Victoria waited for him to tell her more—at last she was going to find out just how well he had known Nina. She was disappointed; he seemed to consider the subject closed, merely remarking that he was looking forward to their evening together. It was on their way home later that evening after a splendid dinner and hours of dancing, that she tried again.
‘Would you rather that I wasn’t friendly with Nina?’ she asked.
It was too dark to see his expression, but she had no doubt that he was frowning even though his voice was mild enough.
‘My dear love, you may make friends with whomever you choose—who am I to interfere? I hope you will have a great many friends before very long.’
Which wasn’t a very satisfactory answer. She agreed with him and didn’t pursue the subject, for it seemed to her that despite his pleasant tone, she was skating on thin ice. It was a pity that she was so curious by nature, for she would really know no peace until she knew what had been between Nina and the man beside her. She was aware that she could ask him and he would answer her truthfully, but then he might not like her for asking. On the whole, she thought it better to say nothing. It was quite another matter, of course, if she managed to find out something from Nina.
It was Saturday again, and this time Alexander arrived in the morning, declaring his intention of staying the night at his parents’ house. They spent the day driving along the country roads, through Haarlem and Alkmaar and then across the great dyke cutting off the Ijsselmeer from the North Sea. They had their lunch in Bolsward, in the attractive restaurant of the Wijnberg Hotel, and then drove on through Franeker and Leeuwarden to Dokkum and then back along the coast, to have tea in a tiny village café before they raced over the nineteen miles of the Zeedijk again. Once on the mainland again, they drove at a more gentle speed, back to Leiden, through the lovely late afternoon, and that evening visited the theatre in den Haag—an Agatha Christie thriller which Victoria had already seen so that she wasn’t over-bothered by her lack of understanding of what was being said on the stage.
She amused herself picking out words here and there, for she had learnt a few since she had been in Holland, and was encouraged to find that the language no longer sounded like gibberish even though it still made little or no sense to her. Alexander had said that he would arrange for her to have lessons, but he had said nothing further and she hadn’t liked to remind him; she was content to wait, and he was a very busy man. He had said nothing definite about their marriage either; she had thought when he had asked her to visit his people that his intention was for them to marry as soon as he could arrange his affairs and get a couple of weeks’ holiday, but nothing more had been said and she stilled a slight unease by looking at the beautiful ring on her finger. Perhaps she was being too impatient. She smiled to herself and slipped a hand into his and felt his fingers close round in a most reassuring fashion.
On Sunday they spent the day driving once more, for Alexander had said that she must see as much of Holland as possible. Later, he had added, they would explore together with more leisure. This time he took her through Utrecht and Arnhem and then up to Appeldoorn and Zwolle, to the southern parts of Friesland. They had lunched at a village café off delicious coffee and long soft rolls stuffed with cheese, and had had their tea in a pretty restaurant deep in the woods of Oranjewoud.
‘I’d like to stay out for dinner, Vicky,’ explained Alexander, ‘but Mother expects us back. Perhaps next week—I thought it would be nice if we went down to Tilburg to see my younger brother—they can’t come up here very well, his wife is expecting a baby any day now, but I’d like you to meet them. We could stay the night. I believe Mother told you that I’m giving a dinner party in ten days’ time—just the family; it will give you a chance to meet them all.’
Victoria agreed that it would be delightful in such a meek voice that he began to laugh and presently stopped the car to turn to her and say:
‘You don’t think it’s delightful at all, do you, Vicky? Hordes of strangers you’ll have to learn to know and like.’ He put out an arm and drew her close and kissed her. ‘I love this meekness,’ he murmured. ‘If only I thought our married life was to be ruled by this unexpected facet of your delightful nature…’
Victoria giggled. ‘You’d hate it,’ she began, then: ‘Would you really like me better?’ she asked. ‘I could try…’
‘Stay as you are, darling girl, impulsive and a little cross sometimes and so very uncertain.’
‘Uncertain?’ She was surprised now. ‘Me?’
‘Yes—as though you had never expected to be happy or remain so.’ He kissed her again. ‘You’re happy now, aren’t you?’
She stared up at him. ‘Yes—perfectly happy, my dear.’ And her words stifled the unbidden thought that she would be even happier if only she could bring herself to ask about Nina, but she knew she couldn’t do that; it would have to remain an unsolved mystery; she would have to resign herself to never knowing.
She was wrong. The next day Alexander went to Brussels for some meeting or other and Mevrouw van Schuylen had a dental appointment in den Haag. Victoria accompanied her and elected to stroll round the shops in Noordeinde while she was waiting for her. It was while she was poking around Boucher’s bookshop that she saw Nina. They met almost as old friends and Victoria, having discovered that she had a free morning, asked her to take coffee with her. ‘You see,’ she explained seriously, ‘I’m not sure where to go and I’m terrified of finding myself somewhere where they won’t understand me.’
Nina laughed. ‘That’s not likely to happen here,’ she exclaimed. ‘Every shop has someone in it who can speak English and certainly understands it. We’ll go to Formosa—are you alone?’
Victoria explained. ‘But Mevrouw van Schuylen will be at least another half an hour or so—I don’t know what she’s having done, but she told me to call for her at about twelve o’clock.’
She sat down opposite Nina and looked around her. ‘This is pleasant—I like the Hague.’
Nina smiled. ‘A good thing too, since you are to marry Alexander and live in or near it for the rest of your life. When are you to marry?’
‘I don’t know. We—we haven’t had much time to make plans—Alexander is so busy, isn’t he, and when we meet…I expect the wedding will be in St Peter Port. My family live there, you know.’
‘You haven’t a job any more?’
Victoria poured the coffee and handed her companion a cup. ‘No—Alexander asked me to give it up when I came here.’
Nina made a little face. ‘So he really means it,’ she said softly. ‘I thought, when I first met you, that it was just a flash in the pan affair—a bluff. I must confess I hoped it was. You see, Alexander and I were to have been married.’
Victoria put her cup down very carefully, so as not to spill it. She felt cold inside and her mouth felt curiously stiff. She said at last in a commendably calm voice: ‘Oh? I didn’t know. I’m sorry, Nina; it must be painful for you, seeing us…’
‘Yes, and more so because it all began as a stupid joke.’
Victoria refilled their cups with a steady hand. She had wanted to discover what the mystery was; well, she was getting her wish and with a vengeance; she must make the best of it. She made her face look pleasantly enquiring. Nina’s statement explained a number of things—Alexander’s look when he had seen her, his parents’ polite coolness towards her when she had called that evening, Alexander’s apparent lack of interest when Victoria had mentioned her…
‘We quarrelled,’ Nina seemed anxious to tell her all about it. ‘Alexander’s got a terrible temper, you know, we had an appalling row in that sitting room of his in the farmhouse—and do you know what was the last thing he said to me?’
Victoria shook her head at this purely rhetorical question.
‘He was on the point of leaving for Guernsey, to stay with those friends of his there. He said: “I’ll marry the first pretty girl I see in Guernsey.” I thought he was joking and then I saw that he was still furious.’ Her blue eyes rested momentarily on the ring on Victoria’s finger. ‘I flung that ring at him before I left the house. Even though he was still angry I never really thought he meant it. It seems he did, and now I come to think of it, he prides himself on being a man of his word.’
‘Why have you told me all this?’ demanded Victoria. She was a little pale, but her eyes were steady and so was her voice.
‘I didn’t mean to, you’re so sweet and a little naïve, aren’t you? You might get hurt, especially if you really love him.’
Victoria’s eyes widened in indignant astonishment. ‘What other reason could I have for marrying him?’ she wanted to know.
‘Some girls would marry him for his money—he’s got plenty and don’t tell me you don’t know that. He’s good-looking too and he’s got a way with women—a decided catch. Not you,’ she added earnestly, ‘and that’s why it might be disastrous…’
She picked up her handbag and gloves. ‘I must go—I promised to lunch with a friend. If it were any other girl I should hate to leave, but you’re sensible as well as sweet; you’ll want to think about it, won’t you?’ She got up and held out a hand, which Victoria took, not wanting to. ‘I’m sure to see you around. Holland’s so small.’
Victoria sat very still, watching Nina make her way through the crowded café. In a detached way she noted what a good-looking girl Nina was, and very well dressed. Alexander liked women to be well dressed, he had told her only the other day, and added the satisfying rider that he considered her taste in clothes to be everything it should be. He had even teased her a little and asked if she was going to be an extravagant wife.
She felt tears prick her eyelids and hastily poured another cup of coffee so that she had something to do. The simple act steadied her; she drank the coffee, which was cold by now, paid the bill and made her way out of the café. As Nina had so sapiently remarked, she would need to think, but not here or now. Alexander was away, she would have almost two days in which to decide what to say to him when he returned. The idea that she might talk to his parents about it flashed through her mind, to be instantly discarded. Going behind his back was the last thing she intended to do. She would be sensible and not get worked up about it, then she would be able to talk it over calmly with him when she saw him again. Having made up her mind to this, she stepped out briskly in the direction of the dentist’s house, happily unaware that her face was so white that several people turned to look at her as she passed, convinced that at any moment she would drop to the pavement. No such catastrophe arose, however; she was a strong, healthy girl, and although she had received a shock she had no intention of giving way under it. She found her way to the waiting room and sat down to wait for Mevrouw van Schuylen, and when one of the patients spoke to her in deeply sympathetic tones she smiled politely and shook her head, not knowing that he had, in fact, taken her white face to be indicative of severe toothache.
If her hostess noticed anything strange about the appearance of her guest she said nothing about it, contenting herself with one sharp glance before launching into an account of the horrors she had endured in the dentist’s chair. ‘Do you mind if we go straight home, Victoria?’ she wanted to know. ‘I’ve had a local anaesthetic and my mouth is still so numb I might have some difficulty with eating.’
Victoria agreed with secret relief. Her hostess would doubtless rest after lunch, leaving her free to sit in the garden or go for a walk. A walk, she decided, a long one. It would clear her brain the more easily to remember every word that Nina had said to her. She felt wretched, but she made an effort to be her usual cheerful self during their drive back and while they ate the light luncheon Bep, the daily cook, had prepared for them, and sure enough, when they had finished, Mevrouw van Schuylen retired to her room, murmuring that dear Victoria could doubtless amuse herself for an hour or so and that her husband would probably be in for tea anyway. Victoria assured her that she had plenty to do and would perhaps take a walk later on, and was thereupon cautioned to be careful not to go too far or get lost, otherwise Alexander would never forgive his mother for letting his lieveling out of her sight. Victoria responded suitably to this little joke, accompanied her hostess to the foot of the stairs and waited while she mounted them and then made her escape into the garden.
There was a rough track behind its hedge, it was used by horse riders, little boys on bicycles, dogs and courting couples, and at this time of the day would be quiet. She began to walk along it now, not caring where she went, and presently when she came to a little clearing, very warm and peaceful in the sunshine, she sat down on a convenient tree stump and had a good cry. It did her a great deal of good and after a little while she dried her eyes, tidied her hair as best she might and began to retrace her steps. Now she could think; the tears had washed away a large part of the rage and humiliation and fright she had been storing up since she had met Nina that morning. There had to be an explanation, of course; when Alexander returned the next day she would ask him about it in a calm and dignified manner and his answer would, she had no doubt, put an end to all her fears and fancies. She felt better once she had made up her mind how she would behave; she would have felt better still if she could have blotted out entirely all that Nina had told her.
She returned for tea and found Alexander’s father had just come home and only too glad to have company. He had been at the local hospital, where he occasionally gave anaesthetics and he was delighted to have an appreciative audience to listen to his day’s work. They were discussing the merits of modern anaesthesia when his wife came into the room and the talk, naturally enough, became centred on her visit to the dentist, but presently, as she was pouring tea, she turned to Victoria and asked, ‘Do you feel better, Vicky? You were so pale this morning, should you rest a little more, do you think? We have taken you out a great deal and as far as I remember we have never once asked you if you wished to go.’
They all laughed and Victoria protested: ‘But I’ve loved every minute, really I have,’ then went on more slowly, as an idea entered her head: ‘But I have got a shocking headache. Would you think me very rude if I didn’t go with you this evening to Mevrouw Vinke’s house? I shall be sorry not to go, but perhaps if I have an early night I might get rid of it.’
‘A very good idea,’ agreed her hostess kindly. ‘You shall dine with us if you wish and then go straight to bed.’ She got up and to Victoria’s surprise bent down and kissed her on her cheek. ‘Dear Victoria, how quickly we have come to love you!’
After they had gone she went and sat in the garden. It was quiet there and the flowers smelled sweet and after a short time its peace had an effect upon her muddled thoughts so that although she was unhappy she was no longer despairing. She went indoors slowly, pausing in the drawing room to look around her at its treasures and so into the hall. She was halfway across it when the front door opened and Alexander walked in.
She stared at him open-mouthed, her delight at seeing him warring with the unhappy thoughts chasing each other round her head.
He came straight to her and took her in his arms and kissed her. ‘I got away early,’ he explained. ‘I thought you would have gone with Mother and Father, but they told me to come on here—that you had a headache.’ He held her a little away from him and looked searchingly into her face. ‘You’ve been crying! What’s the matter, my dear little love—you’re not ill?’
‘No,’ said Victoria, thinking how much simpler it would be if she were. ‘I had a headache…’
‘And what else?’ He was still smiling, but the smile had changed and his piercing eyes seemed to bore into her head and see the muddle there. She took her time in answering him. She could, of course, deny that there was anything wrong, but if she did, he would know and question her again and she might blurt everything out without thinking carefully first… She said now:
‘I met Nina today—while your mother was at the dentist. I went to look at the shops and I saw her. We had coffee together, at a place called Formosa. I liked it there and the coffee was excellent.’
He loosed her and stood staring down at her face and she was miserably aware that despite her calm voice, her mouth was shaking. Alexander smiled a little and took her arm. ‘Let’s go into the sitting room,’ he invited. ‘There’s something you want to tell me, isn’t there?’
In the cheerful little room he offered her a chair, but she shook her head; she had a feeling it wasn’t going to be that sort of conversation, conducted comfortably from two easy chairs. Instead she leaned over the back of a high-backed leather chair, clinging rather tightly to it with taut fingers.
‘Now, my love,’ said Alexander in the silky voice she had learned to be wary of, ‘shall we come to the crux of the matter?’
‘That is the crux, Alexander. I—I don’t think I am your love.’
His raised eyebrows and the sudden arrogance of his look sent her hurrying on, too fast, so that she hadn’t time to pick her words as carefully as she had meant to.
‘We were talking—you know—’ She gave him an imploring look and he murmured smoothly: ‘Indeed I know. Do go on, Victoria.’
‘Well, she told me that you and she had—had been going to marry, only you quarrelled and—and she gave you back her ring—this ring—’ She held out her hand for him to see as though that would make everything clear, but beyond according it a casual glance, as though it were a thing of no importance, he made no sign. ‘I thought,’ Victoria went on, feeling as though she were making a speech in a nightmare, ‘that is, I’ve tried hard to believe that she was making it all up—for a joke, you know, but…’
He said swiftly before she could finish: ‘And you have decided that it wasn’t?’
She twisted her hands tightly together, not looking at him. ‘You see, Alexander, I saw you when she came over to our table at the restaurant—you looked…’ She couldn’t find the right word and left the sentence, perforce, in midair. ‘She described it all so clearly—your house and the sitting room, and if you really said what she said you did, then I…’
‘What did I say?’ He was lounging against the wall, hands in pockets. She peered at him and found his calm face quite terrifying. He was furious, but her own temper was rising too.
‘Did you tell her that you would marry the first pretty girl you met once you got to Guernsey?’
He took a long time to answer. She listened to her heart thudding in her chest, so loud that he must surely hear it. ‘Did you?’ she repeated, her voice too loud in the quiet room.
‘What if I tell you that I did say that?’
‘But you did say it? Just those words?’ She heard the despair in her voice and hoped he hadn’t noticed.
‘Yes, I said that.’ He took his hands from his pockets and came to stand close to her.
‘No,’ she said fiercely. ‘I can guess the rest. You’ve been using me as a sort of—of…’
‘Decoy?’ he suggested helpfully.
‘Decoy to get Nina back.’ She swallowed her rage and choked on it at his laugh.
‘My dear Victoria,’ he began; she allowed him to get no further.
‘You went to see her after we got back from the restaurant that night,’ she accused him fiercely. ‘You said you had to go back to work…’
His voice was ice. ‘Who said that I had gone to see Nina?’
‘No one—I just knew. Oh, it all fits in so well.’
‘You believe that I did that? A few hours after I had given you your ring—that I lied?’ He walked across the room and stood staring out of the window into the quiet night. ‘You’re being impetuous and highly imaginative, Vicky. I…’ He was interrupted by the telephone and after a moment’s hesitation he lifted it from its cradle and stood frowning as he listened. When he answered, Victoria, who had picked up a few words since she had arrived in Holland, gathered that he had to go somewhere in a hurry. She was right. He replaced the receiver without haste and said briskly: ‘I have to go straight to the hospital—it’s urgent.’ He was already at the door. ‘We will finish this—er—argument tomorrow, Victoria.’ He had gone before she could reply to his brief goodnight.
She listened to his footsteps cross the hall, the banging of the front door and then the sound of the Mercedes tearing down the road. When she could no longer hear it she went and sat down, telling herself that she was quite calm and he had only said that because that was the silly sort of thing a man always said when he was getting the worst of an argument with a woman. She sat for a long time while the evening darkened, going over and over their conversation, unable to conceal, however hard she tried, the one glaring fact that Nina had spoken the truth about his saying that he would marry the first girl…and if she had been truthful about that, why should she lie about anything else? She stirred restlessly. There must be some reason, and Alexander had said he would explain, and if he didn’t love Nina any more she supposed it didn’t matter too much, only the hurt of not being told was almost more than she could bear. The telephone rang again and she rather doubtfully lifted the receiver. Jaap was probably about, somewhere in the kitchen probably, but it seemed silly to disturb him. ‘Hullo?’ she asked tentatively, and heard Nina’s voice.
‘Victoria? You’re all right? Has Alexander gone?’
Victoria’s hand shook a little on the receiver. ‘He left here about an hour ago. I—I thought it was the hospital…it was you.’
Her mind was so full of the fact that he had lied to her again that she didn’t notice the tiny pause before Nina replied. ‘Yes—I daresay he’s been held up somewhere.’
‘Are you at the same party as Mevrouw van Schuylen?’ asked Victoria.
The pause was longer this time and she noticed it and put it down to Nina’s kindness in not wanting to hurt her feelings, although it seemed silly to bother about a few feelings after what she had done.
‘No,’ said Nina at length. ‘I’m at my flat. Victoria, you’re sure you’re all right?’
‘Well, of course I am. Actually I was on my way to bed when you telephoned.’ Her voice, she was pleased to hear, sounded calm and casual.
‘Then I won’t keep you. We’ll meet again, shall we? And you shall tell me…no, never mind. Sleep well.’
‘And that’s a silly thing to say,’ said Victoria to herself, packing her case with a fine disregard for her clothes. She would have to leave her second case where it was; she really didn’t care anyway. She shut the lid on to the hopeless jumble within, flung on her coat, rammed a hat on to her fiery head and went, quietly so as not to disturb Jaap, downstairs. In the little sitting room once more, thanking heaven that Alexander had taught her one or two useful phrases in his own language, she dialled the number of the taxi firm so fortuitously written in the telephone book. It was easier than she had thought it would be, for a cheerful voice at the other end answered her peculiar Dutch with a brisk, ‘At once, madam’ in tolerable English. All she had to do was to wait for the taxi to arrive, which it did in a very few minutes. She let herself out of the house, feeling as though she were going to her own execution. She had written a short note to Mevrouw van Schuylen, not attempting to explain why she was leaving but begging for her forgiveness, and beside it she had left an envelope for Alexander. It contained her ring and nothing else because she hadn’t been able to make up her mind what to write to him. She got into the taxi and asked:
‘Could you take me to the Hague station, please—I want to catch the boat train to the Hook.’
The driver looked surprised. ‘It will cost many gulden, miss.’ He named a sum and she nodded her head. She had plenty of money with her.
‘That’s all right. There’s time, isn’t there?’
He nodded. ‘Sure, sure. I get you there.’
He was as good as his word. She was in plenty of time, the train didn’t leave until almost half past ten. Victoria bought her ticket without difficulty and when the train arrived, got in.
At the Hook she had to get a ticket for the boat—something, she was told politely, she should have done earlier. Luckily, said the friendly clerk, there happened to be a cancellation if she didn’t mind going second class.
It wasn’t a very comfortable journey, for there was no berth for her, only a reclining chair in which she lay uneasily, surrounded by family parties on their way home from holiday or service in Germany. Despite their cheerful chatter she dozed, and presently, when they had settled too, she slept, to wake cramped and chilly in the early morning. She got up then, made shift to wash and do her hair and make up her face and when the ship docked, made her way through the Customs and on to the London train. Here she was lucky, for a friendly steward asked her if she wanted breakfast and found her a seat.
She hadn’t thought that she was hungry, but when the food came she ate with some sort of appetite, so that by the time the train got in to Liverpool Street Station, she felt almost herself, which was a good thing, for if she had been feeling anything less she would have found it difficult to take a taxi straight to St Judd’s, beg an interview with the Matron and ask to be taken back as a part-time staff nurse. Matron had been kind and most forbearing when it came to asking questions, and when Victoria asked if she might be engaged on a weekly basis, had replied that yes, she couldn’t see why not, ‘For I daresay,’ she remarked calmly and with no signs of curiosity, ‘you may wish to change your plans when you have had the time to decide what you wish to do.’
But her interview with Matron was easy compared with her meeting with her friends. They had appeared at first unbelieving, then curious, and then, finally, avid for information. She had stalled them off, that first day, with vague remarks about changing her mind, and they had seen her pale face and refrained from asking any more questions, trying to cheer her up by saying how glad they were to see her back again. As a special favour, she was to be allowed to sleep in the Home, even though she was only part-time, on the strict understanding that she should find somewhere of her own outside the hospital by the end of a month—an arrangement which suited her very well, for she would by that time have found another, permanent job, as far away from Holland as possible, she promised herself.
It was almost frightening how quickly she adjusted again to hospital life. The patients, those who remembered her, including the Major, accepted her return as nothing out of the way, merely remarking that she was back again, was she, to plague them with her pills and medicines. There was a new staff nurse who had taken her place, a girl she had known for some time and of the Old Crow’s choosing; a rather serious girl, who didn’t joke with the patients, and who, although kind, held a little aloof from their small griefs and joys. But she ran the ward well under Sister Crow’s eye; Victoria had no doubt that she would make a fitting successor when the time came. That she resented Victoria’s return was natural enough and a sufficient reason for Victoria to look for another job, but somehow in the first days of being back on the ward she was quite unable to put her mind to this. She had written to her mother, a bald letter stating that she had decided that she and Alexander didn’t suit and that she had returned to St Judd’s for the time being; further than that she had done nothing, only lie awake at night weaving impossible fairy stories in which Alexander appeared suddenly to whisk her away to live with him happily ever after—fantasies which in the cool light of early morning she knew to be absurd.
She had forgotten, of course, that she would have to meet Sir Keith again. He had looked mightily taken aback, although he had mercifully remained silent, which was more than she could say for Jeremy Blake, who had come upon her in the office on her first day back and asked so many questions that she turned upon him finally and told him to mind his own business and he had gone away, a mean little smile playing around his mouth.
It was halfway through the second week of her return when Nina made a surprising appearance at the Nurses’ Home. Victoria had just come off duty and was sitting, in company with some of the other staff nurses, in the sitting room of the Home, rather listlessly drinking her tea while those of her friends who were free debated as to what to do with their evening. She was on the point of agreeing to go to the cinema with them when one of the maids put her head round the door with a declaration that there was a visitor for Staff Nurse Parsons. Victoria put her cup down very carefully because the wild surge of excitement which had torn through her like a great gust of wind threatened to make her hands unsteady. She got up slowly, remarking in a matter-of-fact voice, for the benefit of the curious faces around her, that it was probably Mrs Johnson, and walked out of the room.
Nina was standing in the hall. She had her back to Victoria, which was just as well because it gave Victoria time to wipe the disappointment from her face and substitute one of mild welcome—indeed, she had her features so well under control that she was able to produce a perfectly natural smile. ‘Nina—what a surprise! This is the last place where I expected to see you. Are you in a hurry? Would you like some tea, or are you just passing through?’
Nina eyed her uncertainly. ‘I’m here to see you. I’m going on to Brighton tomorrow. I’ve a friend there…’
Victoria dismissed the friend. ‘Me?’ she asked. ‘What about?’ She managed to smile again and this time it was a little easier. Provided she didn’t allow herself to think and Nina didn’t stay too long…
‘Could we go somewhere? Your room, perhaps?’ Nina looked around the hall, which at the best of times was hardly private.
‘Yes, of course.’ Victoria led the way upstairs and into her little room, rather bare because she hadn’t bothered to unpack her small possessions. She offered Nina the chair and perched herself on the side of the bed.
‘It’s difficult,’ began Nina in her prettily accented English, ‘to know how to begin.’ She cast an apologetic look at Victoria, who, not knowing how to help, said ‘Oh?’ in what she hoped was an encouraging voice while at the same time nerving herself for bad news. Probably Nina was going to tell her that she and Alexander were married. No, it couldn’t be that, for she remembered how he had explained to her on one of their lighthearted expeditions together—how many lifetimes ago?—that no one could marry in Holland in less than two weeks. Perhaps he was here, in London with Nina. Victoria wet dry lips and forced them into a smile.
‘That tale I told you, remember? That Alexander and I were to have been married. It wasn’t true. We were good friends—oh, we liked each other all right, you know how it is, but it didn’t last. He never once suggested…I’ve never even been to his house.’
Victoria found her voice, a little high and wobbly. ‘But I don’t understand—you said you had quarrelled with him in the sitting room…’
‘I knew what it looked like—he’d talked about it.’
‘But,’ said Victoria, feeling her way and anxious to get away from a lot of unnecessary talk about the sitting room, ‘you told me that he said that he would marry any pretty girl…’
‘I know,’ Nina sounded impatient. ‘He did too, but not quite in the way I said. He was in a frightful temper and he only said it to let me see that I didn’t matter at all, do you see?’
‘No,’ said Victoria, ‘not really, but go on.’
Nina shrugged. ‘But there is no more. I did it to spite him, I suppose—the way one does—I thought it would be fun to see him squirm. You see, I counted on you losing your temper about it—and you did, didn’t you? You wouldn’t wait to hear what he had to say. There was never anything, but he would be too proud and too angry to say so.’
‘But he told me—I asked him if he’d said that…about marrying the first girl, and he said yes.’
‘Of course—it was the truth, although perhaps a little twisted by me. If you had waited until the next day you would have discovered that.’
Victoria said stubbornly: ‘You said that—when you telephoned, you remember—he was going to the Hague to see you.’
Nina gave a little laugh. ‘I said you were naïve, didn’t I? I didn’t, not in actual words. I’d telephoned the people whose party you were supposed to be going to, I thought we could meet and I would explain that I had played the joke on you, and they told me to ring the van Schuylens’ house. You jumped to the conclusion that Alexander had left you to visit me, didn’t you—and I simply could not resist another little tease, so I let you believe it. He went to the hospital, he really did.’
She took a packet of cigarettes out of her handbag and offered Victoria one and when it was refused, lighted one for herself. ‘I suppose I should be sorry,’ she reflected.
Victoria couldn’t reply, she was far too busy holding down the magnificent rage that boiled within her, for once she started to say all that she longed to say, there would be no holding her. After a long silence she managed: ‘I suppose I have to thank you for coming. Does Alexander know that you’re here?’
Nina eyed her with amusement. ‘Good lord, no. I don’t want my neck wrung. You can do what you like about it, but leave me out, thank you. I’ve other prospects—I’m going to be married myself, to a nice, cosy rich man who thinks I’m marvellous. Isn’t that nice?’
‘Very.’ Victoria had her teeth firmly clenched on the words her tongue longed to utter. ‘What about us—Alexander and me?’
Nina got up, threw her cigarette into the waste-paper basket and strolled to the door. ‘That’s up to you, isn’t it? After all, if you’re so keen on each other it won’t make any difference in the long run, will it? Only take my advice and make the first move. Alexander can be pigheaded when he has a mind to—you know that, surely? I’ll see you around some time.’
She opened the door, went through it without a backward glance and closed it gently after her, leaving Victoria sitting on the bed, speechless.
Her speech returned after a few moments, however. She held a long and loud conversation with herself which relieved her feelings considerably, as did a short and violent fit of weeping, so that presently, composed but red-eyed, she was able to write a letter to Alexander. The spelling of it was erratic and the punctuation not all it should have been, but nonetheless it expressed in no uncertain manner the fact that she loved him very much. This sentiment took up most of the long letter, but there was enough about Nina to make it plain to him that it had all been a dreadful mistake and would he please write to her at once and say so too. She sealed it without reading it through and went downstairs with it. She would have to go to the post office down the street in order to catch the post that evening. She was crossing the front hall when she met Jeremy Blake, coming from the doctors’ mess, on his way out. He held the door open for her and asked:
‘Where are you off to in such a hurry, Staff?’ and she, dimly aware that he sounded quite pleasant for once, said hastily: ‘The post—I mustn’t miss it.’
He held out a hand. ‘I’m going there myself, I’ll post it for you.’
‘That’s kind of you, thanks. You won’t forget?’
‘Hardly, since I’ve letters of my own and it’s only a couple of minutes’ walk.’
She watched him go briskly down the street in the direction of the post office. Alexander would get the letter in a day—two days at least. Perhaps he would telephone her. She wandered back to her room, deep in vague, hopeful dreams.
At the post office Jeremy Blake paused to read the address on Victoria’s envelope. He posted his own letters and then deliberately put hers into his pocket.
Victoria almost counted the hours during the next few days, but when the fourth day came and went, and no letter from Alexander, she began to wilt a little. She had been buoyed up by the thought that even if he was still a little angry with her for not giving him a fair hearing, he would at least write and tell her so. She began to jump each time the telephone rang on the ward and invented any number of excuses which would take her past the pigeonholes where the staff letters were sorted. On the fifth day she wrote again, and unlucky chance so arranged it that Doctor Blake should come into the office just as she was stamping the envelope. She had picked it up immediately, but not before, without appearing to do so, he had seen the address. He gave no sign, however, merely saying: ‘I thought Sister was on duty; I wanted to see her about transferring Mr Bates, but tomorrow will do as well.’ He turned to go and at the door said carelessly: ‘Do you want that letter to go? It’ll just catch the post at the porter’s lodge if I take it with me. I’ve got to go that way.’
She would have preferred to have taken it herself, but she couldn’t very well leave the ward, and if he took it, Alexander would get it that much sooner. She gave it to him.
The following morning, Doctor Blake, using the porter’s lodge telephone, watched the head porter sort the ward post. He was close to the pigeonholes, so it wasn’t in the least difficult for him to see the letters in the staff section and the letter with the Dutch stamp was within inches of his hand. The porter’s back was turned and there was no one else there; it only needed a few seconds to transfer the letter to his own pocket before finishing his call and strolling away down the corridor. Presently, in the seclusion of his own room, he burnt the letter, just as he had burned the two letters Victoria had given him.
Very slowly indeed the days dragged by and Victoria, a little paler and a little more silent each day, found them endless. It was exactly two weeks after writing her first letter that she made up her mind what to do and by the afternoon she had done it—given an understanding Matron her notice for the second time in as many months, broken the news to Sister Crow, booked a berth on the Harwich boat for that night, packed an overnight bag and gone on duty for the last time. It had been a little difficult, leaving at a moment’s notice, as Matron had pointed out to her, but as it was quite obvious to that astute woman that Victoria intended to leave anyway, notice or no notice, she had stretched a point.
Victoria, looking like a ravishing beauty despite her white face, put on her new summer outfit, lime green and cream, her hair crowned by an eye-catching little hat to match, and marched through the front door of the hospital. She handed the case to the taxi driver and got in herself and a passing workman gave an appreciative whistle at the sight of her. She hoped with all her heart that Alexander, when he saw her in a few hours’ time, would feel the same way.