Tender Nurse (11 page)

“Home? You mean——”

“Just home—to the flat. I’d like to sit around in an old dress and wear a pair of old slippers and do nothing— listen to some music perhaps.”

He looked at her uncertainly. “You don’t mean— alone, Andrea?”

“No, not alone. You too, if you like.”

“If I like! Let’s not waste another minute. I’ve got the car parked round the corner. We can be there in five minutes.”

They lounged, listened to some music and had a little supper. Sensing that she wanted to relax, Godfrey made no attempt to make love to her. Only when they said good night at the hospital gates, did he take her into his arms.

“Have you any idea how much I love you?” he murmured.

“Godfrey, don’t love me too much. I—no woman is worth it.”

“Darling, you are worth all the love any man can give you.”

“Dear Godfrey,” was all she could say. He was worthy of so much more love than she was able to give him.

The next day was Virginia’s day off. Andrea was surprised to see her in the dining room at tea time.

“I was hoping to see you, Andrea,” she said. “George and Martin are cooking up a run into Cliftonville later on—when you’re off.”

Andrea’s heart leapt. “Are they really? Whose idea was that?”

“Martin’s,” Virginia said briefly.

Andrea gave her a quick glance. “Would you rather have gone out with George alone?”

“Don’t be silly.”

Andrea could scarcely believe that Martin wanted her company again so soon. She told herself not to set too much store by it. Perhaps he was just feeling the need to relax and preferred to go out in a foursome to save gossip.

As they got up from the table, Virginia murmured; “George will pick you up at the side entrance to the Home as soon after half-past eight as you can make it. We’re picking Martin up outside the gates.”

“Where are we going?”

“To the Hutt for a meal, I believe.”

Andrea went back to the theatre for the remainder of her duty time. At eight-thirty she rushed to her room to get ready. She had not a very extensive wardrobe, so she wore the same deep blue Taiho dress she had worn for the opera. Martin had said it suited her, she reflected, as she gave a quick look at herself in the mirror before picking up a short jacket to wear on the way back. George’s car was waiting, but to her surprise he was alone.

George started the car as she got in beside him. “Virginia is waiting outside with Martin. Something has happened. She has to go home right away.”

“Oh dear,” Andrea said in dismay. “I do hope it’s nothing serious.”

“Her mother has had to be rushed to hospital. I’m running Virginia over.” He gave Andrea a sideways look. “Martin very much wants you to go along to the Hutt with him as planned. I hope you will, because I’ve booked a table.”

Andrea made no reply to this. For a moment or two, her thoughts were sympathetically with Virginia. She hoped her mother was not dangerously ill. Then as she thought over what George had just told her, a queer kind of excitement welled up at the thought of going out alone with Martin. Almost immediately however, she despised herself for it as Godfrey came into her mind.

George turned the car out of the hospital gates into the side street where he and Martin had waited on the other occasion. Martin was sitting at the wheel of his own car.

Virginia got out and Andrea ran over to her.

“Virginia, I’m so sorry about your mother. I do hope you find her not as bad as it sounds.”

“Thanks, Andrea. It appears to be something abdominal from what my brother said over the telephone. I’m sorry to break up the party, but don’t let it spoil your evening.”

She went over to George’s car and got in. Both gave a nod and a wave and they drove away.

Martin had got out of his car and stood holding the door open for Andrea.

“You don’t mind coming with me alone, do you, Andrea?”

His voice and expression had a wistful, almost pleading quality. Andrea’s heart warmed toward him and her lingering doubts as to the rightness of going with him fled.

“Of course not,” she said impulsively.

Their eyes met, and suddenly they both laughed. He half bowed and motioned her to her seat in the car, “Madame.”

Laughingly she got in. He banged the door and went quickly round to the other side.

A slight smile on his face, he started the car. Beside him, Andrea sat back, a strange contentment stealing over her. Martin drove in silence, only turning now and again to smile at her. Somehow, there seemed no need for conversation.

It was almost dark when they reached the Hutt. Martin explained to the proprietor that the rest of the party were suddenly unable to come and they were shown to a smaller table in a quiet corner. The lights in the small dining room were dimmed, giving everything a soft, warm glow. Each table had its own lamp and a small bowl of sweet-smelling roses.

As they sat down Martin said. “I’m glad you’re wearing that dress again. I love it.”

She looked at him shyly. “How nicely you put it—the fact that I’m wearing the same dress.”

He smiled slightly. “Don’t disappoint me. I was thinking you had done it because I liked it. Tell me honestly now.”

“Well, quite apart from the fact that my wardrobe is rather limited, I did remember that you liked it.”

He smiled broadly. “I knew it. Any other girl would have gone to tremendous pains to wear something different. You’re not like anyone else.”

The waiter brought the menu and when they ordered dinner, Martin murmured something to the man who brought a tray on which were two glasses and a bottle of wine.

“I know you don’t drink a lot, Andrea,” Martin said, “but I feel this is a special occasion. You’ll like this, I feel sure.”

The waiter filled their glasses, then went to bring the first course. Martin picked up his glass and smiled across the table at her.

“To you, my dear,” he said.

Andrea picked up hers. “To you,” she returned breathlessly. The wine was sweet and sparkling.

“Like it?” he asked.

“Oh, yes, it’s lovely.”

The waiter brought their meal. Delicious Sevigne soup, followed by roast turkey, coffee and ices. Andrea could scarcely believe it was true. To be sitting here, dining alone with Martin Graham, the idol of the hospital. It seemed incredible when only a short time ago she had so despised him. He was charming, courteous and attentive.

When they were a little way through their meal, Andrea had noticed the waiter bring something and set it discreetly at Martin’s side. Now the man drew from a cooler a small bottle of champagne.

Andrea’s eyes widened in surprise. “Champagne! Oh, Martin,” she breathed.

The cork popped and the waiter poured the sparkling wine and discreetly vanished.

Martin smiled. “A special occasion requires a special drink. It will set a seal on our—friendship. Here’s to us.”

She raised her glass. “To our friendship,” she murmured, her eyes glowing.

“You know, Andrea, I haven’t done this for years— taken a nice girl out to dinner. Somehow, there’s never been anyone at the Royal that I’ve wanted to take out.”

“That’s a wonderful compliment, Martin.”

“Not at all, my dear. Just a simple statement of fact. Tell me, Andrea—when did you stop disliking me?”

She colored slightly. “I might ask you the same question.”

He smiled. “We did cut across each other at first, didn’t we? As soon as I saw you on the ward that morning, I knew you were different from anyone else I’d ever met, but I didn’t trust myself.”

“You found me ‘just a shade too good to be true’ ?” she teased softly.

He winced and gave a rueful smile. “Haven’t you quite forgiven me yet?”

“Of course.” Impulsively, she reached her hand across the table and he closed his own over it.

There was a small cocktail bar at one end of the room and during the evening, customers of the discreet type came and went. Martin was just helping Andrea on with her jacket when someone they both knew came through the door. It was Julia Fisher, accompanied by a man in naval uniform.

“Oh, Martin — she mustn’t see us,” Andrea whispered.

A look of impatience crossed his face. “Good heavens, why not! I’m not answerable to either Sister Fisher or anyone else.”

“No, but — well, you know how everybody talks so.”

“Give them something to talk about for a change,” he growled. Then he looked at Andrea’s somewhat distressed face. Perhaps it would make things difficult for her. He hadn’t, at first, thought of that.

“All right, my dear.” He pointed to a small door. “Go through there and wait for me until I settle with the waiter.”

She went through the door he had indicated and he beckoned the waiter.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Julia Fisher turn and look at him, but he pretended not to see her, and before she could move toward him, he had followed Andrea through the door.

“She saw me,” he told her, “but I don’t think she saw you.”

They hurried into his car and Martin drove quickly out of the car park and on to the main road.

Soon they were driving through Burton Wood, the long, powerful beams of the car cutting a tunnel of light through the trees. Strongly aware of the man at her side, Andrea glanced at his profile. How familiar his face was becoming, how——

As though acutely aware of her too, he turned his head and let his gaze rove quickly over her face.

“Do you mind if I stop the car for a moment?” he asked, taking a swift look at the road ahead.

“No,” she said wonderingly.

He drew on to a grass verge and when he had stopped the car he turned toward her. He put his hand under her chin and lifted her face to his.

“Before we reach the hospital,” he said softly, “I’d just like to thank you for a very wonderful evening.”

“It is I who should thank you,” she protested.

He took her hand. “Youv’e given me a great deal of pleasure, my dear. Far more, I’m sure, than I have given you. The pleasure has been all mine, as they say.” He put his hand on her shoulder and her pulse quickened alarmingly. “May I ask one more favor of you?”

“What is it?” she whispered tremulously.

“Just to show once and for all that you have really forgiven me, will you let me kiss you again?”

“I——” She felt unable to speak. A sudden longing to be taken into his arms possessed her to be replaced almost immediately by a strange shyness.

Taking her silence for consent he resisted the temptation to pull her roughly to him, and kissed her gently on the lips.

She grasped his arms tightly for a moment.

He kissed her once more, then abruptly started the car.

In the warm darkness she sat back trembling, a mixture of emotions. She felt she wanted to cry without knowing whether it was for joy or sorrow. Something had hap-pened to her. Something had been awakened by that brief, tender kiss and as yet she was not quite sure what.