Staff Nurse in the Tyrol (15 page)

She bowed her head in a stupor of exhaustion. She would never make them understand in time. Countries were meant to be lived for as well as died
for ...
Then blessedly strong arms were brushing hers aside and a voice was saying calmly:

“Let me have him, Sonia. That’s the girl. You’ve done splendidly. Stefan! Pull yourself together and give me a hand. Then see to Sonia.”

The wonderful relief to be able to let someone else take over! Thank heaven Michael had come. She couldn’t have gone on a moment more. Just let her have time to pull herself together and she’d be all right. She rested her head against the seat of the car and let the flood of her weariness wash over her. She could hear voices, but they seemed to be far away and no concern of hers. Then a hand was touching her timidly.

“Mam’selle Sonia! Are you ill? Is it possible that you can get out of the car? Stefan says that I
must not
stay...”

She sat up, brushed her hair back from her face and attempted to straighten her crumpled cap.

Otto gave her his hand. “Permit me to assist you, mam’selle.” Sonia climbed stiffly out of the car and glanced down distastefully at her rumpled uniform.

“I must get changed before I go back on duty.”

Otto looked distressed. “But surely you must rest after your labors, mam’selle.”

Sonia attempted a reassuring smile. “There are many others who are ill like your son,” she said gently. “We can rest once they are out of danger.”

He clicked his heels and bowed. “Permit me to salute a brave nurse, mam’selle. Austria is fortunate to have your services in her time of need.” He lifted her hand to his lips.

He got into his car and drove off with only a brief backward glance toward the hospital where he had left his son with strangers.

“Ah, there you are, Sonia.” Stefan sounded ill at ease. “What is it, Stefan?”

“Michael told me to see that you were all right after your ordeal,” he said stiffly.

“You can see that I’m all right.” She tried to keep the annoyance out of her voice.

He looked hurt. “I have done nothing wrong that
I
am aware of.”

How childish he was. “No, Stefan. You can’t help being what you are. You can’t help loving your country until you no longer think or behave in a human fashion. No wonder Greta gave up. It would have been like loving a man obsessed!”

His face had whitened at her words. “You cannot mean what you say! Greta never cared that way. It is not the truth. I love my country, but for her my love is different.”

“Pity you didn’t manage to convince her of that,” Sonia said brutally. “She’s of the opinion that you would walk out and leave her at any moment for your country.”

Why was she telling him all this? It was too late, and it wouldn’t do any good anyway.

“But Greta loves Michael. How can what you say have a word of truth in it?”

“Because she told me so herself. Perhaps she turned to Michael because she couldn’t rely on you.” Confusedly she wondered what she was saying. Could that be the way it had happened? She didn’t know, and she was too tired to care or even to think.

“I’m going to my room to get changed if anyone is looking for me,” she announced abruptly.

She walked slowly across the grass, knowing that Stefan was staring after her, bewilderment and anguish written on his face, but she had no comfort left to give him. She hadn’t even enough for herself. The shadowy depths of her room held a hint of coolness as she slipped out of her soiled uniform. She glanced longingly at her bed and then went resolutely toward the wash-basin. She must hurry. She must get back. She had been away far too long. A knock at the door startled her, and she called a reluctant; “Come in.”

Greta’s face appeared. “Michael sends me with the order that you are not to return to duty until tomorrow.”

Sonia flushed at the other girl’s tone. “Michael does? But surely it’s for Sister Therese to say.”

Greta relaxed a little as if she had expected Sonia to jump at an offer of which she disapproved. “Sister Ther
e
se agrees. You are to return to duty in the morning.”

Sonia still hesitated. “How is the child we brought in?”

Greta’s face softened. “He is perhaps just a little better. Stefan is with him.”

Sonia took a chance. “Will the police be looking for him, since he is Otto’s son?”

“Stefan thinks that he is safe for now.”

Sonia decided that it would be safer not to continue with the subject. “Thank Michael and Sister Therese for the time off, but I feel awfully guilty taking it.”

“That is foolish. If it had not been for you Otto’s son would not be alive, Stefan says. I must return to the ward. Perhaps I see you later if you are not asleep.”

The door closed softly behind Greta, and Sonia wasted no time in heading unashamedly for her bed. It was dark when she awakened, and it was several minutes before she realized where she was and what had happened. Sleepily she switched on the bedside light. She blinked at the tray on the floor and reached out a curious hand for the note sitting on top of the covering cloth.

Thought you might be hungry. If you wake up before ten I’ll be on the terrace. There’s something we must discuss.

Michael.

Sonia glanced at her watch. It was a quarter past nine. She tucked into the salad Michael had scrounged for her and ate every last bit of the fruit. Perhaps it was because she had slept so soundly that she felt so relaxed. She had lost most of the tension that had ridden her for the past few days when every sense had been strained to the utmost, coping with so much extra work. She dressed leisurely and tied back her hair with a ribbon; it felt so much cooler not to have her thick curls clustering against the nape of her neck. The clock was striking ten as she went out across the grass toward the terrace. For a moment she wondered where Greta was. She hadn’t heard any sounds in the room next door. Perhaps she was still on duty or visiting one of her friends in the other wing; she might even be on the terrace with Michael. After all, she didn’t have the slightest idea what he wanted to discuss. It didn’t have to be anything
personal ...
at least not personal to her. It could be his own plans; it could be Greta. It could be anything.

At first she thought the terrace was deserted until she discovered Michael lying full length on one of the deck chairs; only the glowing tip of his cigarette revealed his whereabouts in the darkness.

“Find yourself a chair, Sonia. I’m too comfortable to move,” he said lazily.

Rather shyly she sat down near him. She felt somewhat at a loss and waited for him to start the conversation.

“You have yourself mixed up in this affair properly, haven’t you? Pity you ever went to that cafe, especially as I’d warned you to steer clear. However, it’s no use wasting our time over what’s happened. It’s what’s going to happen that’s important. I gather that Greta told you that Stefan has said he’s the boy’s uncle, and we’re sticking to that. Fortunately the child is too ill to give the show away. It’s you I’m worrying about,” he added abruptly.

Sonia was thankful for the darkness. “But why, Michael? I don’t know anything.”

He sighed. “Maybe you don’t, but would anyone believe it? You’ve been to the
hideout...”

“But I would never remember the way,” Sonia protested. She shuddered at the thought of that ghastly journey. “How is the boy?”

“Still holding his own. Thanks to the iron lung he’s getting some much-needed rest. But let’s stick to the point. What are you going to say if the police do ask questions?”

“Simply that a man stopped me and asked me to look at his sick child. Since it was polio I made him bring the child to the hospital,” Sonia said firmly.

“Dangerously simple, but you might get away with it. I wish Stefan weren’t in this. The police are bound to know he goes to that caf
e
, and if they know Otto has
been...”

“But surely the police have more important things to deal with. Anyway, I thought they were sympathetic to the refugees,” Sonia said slowly.

“Being sympathetic to refugees is one thing but condoning plotting that might bring a clash with the Russians is another kettle of fish entirely. You’re forgetting the explosive quality of any situation in this part of the world. It doesn’t take much of an incident to stir up things. I don’t even know to what extent Stefan is involved. I’ve always shut him up when he started ranting, and it’s a bit late to dig out the facts now. He probably thinks it’s better for me not to know.”

“I know Greta is worried,” Sonia put in softly.

There was a moment’s silence. “I expect she would be,” was Michael’s only comment.

“What do you want me to do?” Sonia asked reluctantly.

He laughed unexpectedly. “That is a change, coming from you.”

She joined in his laughter unwillingly. “Perhaps being yanked off yesterday taught me something.”

There was the briefest of pauses. “I don’t mind admitting it made me do some thinking.” There was a note in his voice that she had never noticed before. “However, you want to know what to say, don’t you? First, say as little as possible, and somehow get word to me that you’re being questioned. I’ll see if I can organize some spies to tip me off if anything unusual occurs.” He unwound his long form from the deck chair and stood up. “Well, I must be getting back. Stefan will want to be relieved, no doubt.”

“Thanks for sending me some supper,” Sonia said diffidently.

“No trouble at all,” he said airily. “I told Greta to snaffle some stuff for you.”

He was standing so close to her that Sonia was uncomfortably aware of his nearness. For a moment it seemed that he was about to touch her, and then with an abrupt movement he stepped aside. “Be seeing you in the morning. Goodnight.”

There was the sound of running feet on the gravel. Whoever it was came toward them, and before they could wonder who it was Greta called out sharply.

“Michael! Come quickly! It is Stefan ... they are taking him away!” She was clutching frantically at his arm in her distress.

“Steady on, Greta!” Michael tried to calm the girl.

“Do you want me to come, Michael?” Sonia stood irresolutely.

“Don’t let her, Michael! If it hadn’t been for her, Stefan wouldn’t be in trouble now!” Greta cried furiously.

“Better stay where you are, Sonia. Things couldn’t be much worse. Come on, Greta.”

How cold his tone sounded! Sonia watched them hurry away from her. Was she really responsible for what had happened? Feeling sick and helpless, she slowly returned to her room.

CHAPTER NINE

For more nights than she cared to remember, Sonia had been longing for one that she could spend in sleep without being called back to the ward to help in yet another battle for a child’s life. Tonight she was free, free until the morning to sleep without interruption, and now she couldn’t have felt wider awake. She stared with disgust at her rumpled bed, still unmade after her earlier slumber; the supper tray on the floor, and the dirty uniform she had taken off lying in an untidy heap. Slowly she tidied her room, spinning out the task as long as possible. She didn’t want time on her hands; time to wonder if Michael really blamed her for Stefan’s predicament.

Now that she had guessed that the girl was still in love with Stefan, Sonia could understand Greta’s attitude better. If it weren’t for the fear that had clung to her since that night in the cellar
cafe
Sonia might have taken Greta’s accusing words more calmly. But now, after the events of the past few days, she found that her imagination would not let her rest.

She moved restlessly around her room, then crossed to the window and pushed back the curtains. She stared out into the dark with a feeling of helplessness.

“Sonia!”

The whisper of her name was so faint that she was sure she had imagined it.

“Sonia!”

There it was again, and now she could distinguish a patch of shadow darker than the surrounding night.

“Who...?”

But before she could utter anything more, a hand touched her lips and another held her arm reassuringly. Sonia stifled a scream and controlled the instinctive impulse to move away from the window. Before she could recover from her surprise a tall figure was stepping calmly over the low sill and drawing the curtains over the window again.

“Is Greta in her room?” Stefan’s voice was very low but quite calm—as if stepping into a nurse’s room was an everyday occur
r
ence.

“She went back to the ward with Michael,” Sonia whispered, “But I thought the police
had...”

She sensed rather than saw Stefan shrug his shoulders. “They had the intention of taking me for questioning, but I persuaded them that it was a matter of no great importance. I slipped away in the darkness before they decided otherwise. It is important that I see Greta before I go away.”

A brief silence hung over the room as Sonia forced herself to think calmly.

“But if the
police...”
she began.

“They have been once ... there is most certainly the possibility that they will come again. Otto’s son is too ill to be moved into hiding, so I go to lay a trail.”

Sonia felt herself grow cold. A few weeks ago she would have laughed at him, but not now. She knew how much his quiet, unspoken heroism concealed.

“I’ll get Greta for you.” She forgot she wasn’t in uniform as she moved toward the door.

Stefan’s whisper stayed her. “Hadn’t you better change?”

She paused in dismay and then relaxed. “I’ll put a gown on when I get there,” she promised.

Stefan let her go reluctantly as if she were his one link with normality. “Hurry!” he urged.

As Sonia crossed the grass toward the side entrance to the wards she felt that the shadows must hold hundreds of secret police ... all spying on her actions, and seeking out her thoughts. With a sigh of thankfulness she slipped into the pool of light by the doorway. She picked up a gown from the pile by the ward door and was struggling to tie the tapes when she heard footsteps and then a muffled exclamation. She swung around to face Michael.

His face was a study in angry astonishment. “Sonia! For the love of all that’s holy why can’t you stay put?”

Sonia put out a hand in blind appeal. “I’m sorry, Michael, but it’s Stefan.”

He stared at her and his expression seemed to settle into weary lines of hopelessness. “The police have taken him away,” he said savagely. “I don’t suppose it’s your fault, but all the
same...”

Sonia took a deep breath. “Michael, you must listen. Stefan’s in my room—now, this very minute.”

She watched bewilderment give way to realization. “In your room? You
mean...”
he said stupidly.

“Yes, he persuaded them to let him go. Can you get Greta right away?”

“Greta? What for?” He brushed a hand over his face as if trying to summon an energy he was no longer capable of recalling.

“Because Stefan wants to see her before he goes away,” Sonia said patiently. “Will you get her, or must I go into the ward?” The hint of anger in her tone seemed to rouse him as nothing else had.

“You stay right here,” he said briefly. “Don’t move.” He pushed her none too gently into a chair. “I’ll be right back.”

Sonia watched him disappear through the door. She leaned her head against the wall behind her. How tired she was; she could feel the blood throbbing in her temples. The quietness of the empty corridor made her tense with anxiety. She kept expecting some sound to break
it ...
the march of threatening feet, or the clamor of angry voices, so that when she looked up to see Greta staring at her in terror it was seconds before she recognized her or remembered why she was there.

“Sonia—Michael comes to tell me that Stefan hides in your room.”

Sonia pulled herself together. Here was someone whose distress was far greater than her own. “He wants to see you before he goes away.”

Greta’s face brightened as she heard the reason for Stefan’s present whereabouts. “You say he goes away ... but why? The police have gone away too.”

Sonia hesitated. “He’s afraid that they have been told Otto’s son is somewhere in the hospital, and he plans to lay
a trail ...
elsewhere.”

Greta went pale and then flushed with anger. “It is always the same ... never for himself, but always for others the thought,” she said with weary bitterness.

There was only one thing to say and no time to decide whether it was wise. “It can’t be easy for Stefan to go—now that he knows you love him,” said Sonia.

“How can he know? I do not know it myself!” the other girl cried furiously.

Sonia’s voice was gentle. “Would you be worrying if you didn’t love him? He loves you very much.”

“He does not! He loves only his country.” Hopelessness was in every line of Greta’s body.

Sonia was patient. “I know he loves his country, but he says his love for you is different.”

The girl lifted her head. “So it pleases you and Stefan to discuss my affairs. This I cannot permit. When was it that you have the talk?”

“The night of the dance.” Why must the other girl argue for so long?

“He has had time since to tell me himself.” But some of the defiance had gone out of her attitude.

“No one has had time since the epidemic began, and you know it. Hurry, Greta! Someone may discover him there. He may not dare to wait any
longer...”

Greta began to unfasten her gown. “All right, I go, but it will be necessary for you to take my place. I am giving the injections in the big ward. I finished the fifth from the left.”

Sonia breathed a sigh of relief as the Austrian girl hurried away. She finished tying the tapes on her gown and found herself a mask. She spared only the briefest of sighs for that night of sleep that she was giving up before she went through the doors into the main ward.

She had written up the last of the charts by the light of a pocket flashlight when she heard the footsteps. They couldn’t be made by hospital staff. They were too heavy, and there was no regard for the children who stirred from fretful sleep.

Hastily she went forward. “Hush! You will wake the children.” She had spoken in English before she realized that the intruders probably wouldn’t understand.

Michael’s voice came out of the darkness. “It’s all right, Sonia. The police officers would like a word with you. Can you come into the office?”

Sonia could sense the uneasiness underneath the reassurance of his words. She followed the men toward the office door. There seemed to be two of them. From the way they walked they must be young and very anxious to show off their efficiency.

The unshaded light showed up the smartness of the uniforms they wore so proudly. One of them, judging by his badges, was the senior in rank. He began to address her.

“Good evening, Fraulein. Please, the questions answer.”

Sonia watched his face carefully as if her scrutiny might warn her in advance of what was coming. Beyond the police captain she could catch a glimpse of Michael casually leaning against the door.

“Good evening, Herr Kapitan. I do not understand much of your charming language.” Had she laid it on too thick?

But he was smiling now and his eyes were admiring her boldly. “You have a good accent already. Soon, no doubt, you will speak our language better.” He sighed and put a hand on his heart and made a little bow before he clicked his heels. “Alas, it is business before pleasure, is it not? The first question to ask is about the child you bring
today...”

Sonia waited for the rest of the question, but obviously she was expected to fill in the gap. If only she knew how familiar he was with hospital
routine...

She began very cautiously. “With the polio epidemic it is sometimes necessary to bring in the patients. If there is an ambulance we send that, but they are so busy, so sometimes we go by car.”

“What kind is the car, please?” He shot the words at her.

She made an attempt to shrug her shoulders carelessly. “It was one of your foreign makes. I don’t know the name. I’ve not been here long enough. It’s black with an Austrian license plate,” Sonia said apologetically.

The police officers relaxed, and they too shrugged their shoulders.

“It is a
pity ...
so many cars are black and so many have Austrian license plates. The man who came for
you...?”

Sonia let out her breath very cautiously. “You mean the father?”

The two men exchanged looks, and it was easy to follow their thoughts.

“The father? Are you sure?” It was the police captain again. She nodded. “He said he was the father, that his baby was
very ill ...
and to come quickly.”

“He spoke English?”

How quick he was to pounce! “One or two words, perhaps. I know a little German ... and for the rest we use sign language. It’s not difficult.”

“And the father ... how does he look?”

She frowned a little. “Very worried and upset, and no wonder! He should have come much sooner ... the small one was very ill, almost dead. I scolded him, but he says the child worsened very quickly.”

“Fraulein does not understand. I mean how does he look in appearance?” It was the police officer who was sounding apologetic now.

She looked carefully at the two men and then briefly at Michael. “He is perhaps a little taller than you but not so tall as the doctor. He is not very fat and leans forward a little like a man who is in a hurry, but sometimes he stands very straight like a man who was a soldier once.”

She had been as close to the truth as she dared. She had described Otto as a father ... not as he had been that night in the cafe'. Would they accept it?

The police captain looked disappointed, glanced at his companion and spoke to him in rapid German. The other man took out a bundle of papers and extracted a photograph that he passed to his superior.

“Have you seen this man before, Fraulein? Study it most carefully.”

Sonia took it from him with fingers that had suddenly gone cold, but she had difficulty in hiding her relief. It could have been Otto or any other young man in uniform, but she could honestly say that it bore no resemblance to the frantically worried man who had brought her back to the hospital.

She shook her head and handed it back. “It does not look at all like the father. It is a man too tall—too military—and the face is not the same.”

“So ... we must try again.” He watched his subordinate stow the photograph away again. “The child? How is he?”

Sonia tensed again after her momentary relaxation. “I handed him over to the doctors, and then I went off duty as instructed.”

Michael broke in. “Sister Allison has been on duty for many days and nights without rest. It is imperative that she have a break before coming on tonight. S
i
ster Therese orders it. You know how it is, with so many little ones ill. Perhaps you have children yourself?”

It was a lucky stroke. Out came another bundle and a much-worn snapshot was brought forth. “I have three. The oldest one is not yet six, but he is big for his age, is he not?”

Sonia gazed at the snapshot. How could the young father in this little laughing family group have the heart to hound a man like Otto, who at the moment was only another father such as this
...
and a very worried one who couldn’t dare inquire whether his son was still alive
or dead...

“How pretty and young your wife looks—and she the mother of three!” Sonia put every ounce of appeal that she possessed into the admiring look she gave the police officer.

He tossed his head as if the compliment was all to his own credit. “And the Fraulein? Does she not wish to be married and have the small sons of her own?”

Sonia did not dare glance in Michael’s direction. “Perhaps ... someday.” She tried to make it sound non-committal.

“So ... may
the some day be not too far distant. But it is late and we have much to do. No doubt the Fraulein has business also.” He clicked his heels. “Goodnight, Fraulein.”

“Goodnight, and—thank you.” She hoped he wouldn’t guess how heartfelt her thanks really were.

The clicking of their heels resounded through the sleeping ward as Michael escorted them out. As soon as they had gone Sonia sank down into a chair. Her legs wouldn’t have held her up for another moment. After a while she stopped shuddering and was almost calm by the time Michael returned. He stood looking down at her with a mixture of anger and admiration.

“You managed that far better than I expected.
You...”
But there was another interruption as Greta came tiptoeing in. Her face was drained of color and her eyes showed signs of recent tears, but there was an angry twist to her lips.

“What
d
id the police officers require? Have you sent them on their way, or do they want Stefan for more questions? It is
too late ...
he is gone and they will not find him.” It was Sonia to whom her bitter words were directed.