My Surgeon Neighbour (9 page)

Jurice looked after him thoughtfully. Odd, that an hour ago he should have been so keen on humiliating her in front of the Sanstead girl, and now apparently he couldn’t care less. What had happened in between, if anything had?

But only Oliver himself knew the answer to that question.

After the tournament Sarah’s wishful thinking had woven a little fiction that their success would prompt Oliver Mansbury to make an opportunity for partnering her again. But apart from the gift of a sheaf of white roses which had arrived for her with his card ‘To Sarah Sanstead, with many thanks for our impromptu and wholly enjoyable game, he gave no further sign nor invitation.

Of Dick also, more than twice as busy since his father’s death, she was seeing very little. At first she told herself she could not blame him if he deliberately avoided her for a time. But on the few occasions when they met during those weeks she realized gratefully that no such idea had entered his head. Such leisure time as he had was still hers. She still had him for a friend.

Meanwhile she, Alice Cosford and Martha also seemed to be working all the hours there were. She had two cases following of children needing exacting post
-
operational therapy; another small boy brought chicken
-
pox with him, thus taxing Monckton’s isolation facilities to the utmost; then, that crisis over, Alice had to be given leave in order to nurse a sick relative of her own.

During that time Steven Carrage was the man of whom Sarah saw most. He called professionally two or three times a week and though they had never reached the intimacy of her first evening with him, he sometimes stayed for coffee and a chat when he came to collect or to deliver Tony.

Then, one late afternoon when she was working on the month’s accounts, he rang to ask how busy she was.

Surprised by the isolated question, Sarah said, “Well, at the moment I have straws in my hair and am rapidly going mad, chasing an elusive threepence ha’penny through ten money columns. Why?”

“Because I was wondering
—
That is,” his tone
was diffident, “I wanted to ask a favor of you and hoped you might be free.”

“But I am free. At least, I can be at any time you like to name,” she told him warmly. “Alice came back yesterday, so she is taking duty for the rest of today. I’m only doing accounts, as I told you. When would you like to come up?”

“Well, not at once. I’ve Surgery myself first. But supposing I called for you afterwards, would you let me take you somewhere to dinner while I talk?”

“Out to dinner? That sounds lovely. What time may I expect you?” asked Sarah.

He told her and when he came for her, drove to The Fontenoy without consulting her. He had already booked a table for dinner and after a drink in the lounge they adjourned to the dining-room, already full of other guests. Their table afforded them a good view of the room and while they were ordering they in turn were being noticed at a near-by table occupied by
Oliver Mansbury, Mrs.
Beacon, Jurice Grey and another man, a stranger to Sarah.

At sight of them Oliver sketched a salute in their direction; Mrs. Beacon distantly inclined her head, and Jurice said to no one in particular,

“If there’s anything to be noticed about our little neighbor, it is that she certainly doesn’t lack for male escorts!
Nor
all the time she needs for stepping out. All this chat one hears about the ‘vocational call’ of nursing! But I suppose they shut their ears to it when they’ve other fish to fry.” Jurice turned to Mrs. Beacon, “I mean, were
you
ever able to achieve the amount of free time that Nurse Sanstead seems to be able to?” she appealed.

Tight-lipped, non-committal, Mrs. Beacon said, “Not in hospital certainly. But she had made herself her own mistress, don’t forget.”

“Could be that’s ninety per cent, why she did,” began Jurice at the same moment as the fourth in their party put in,

“You know, I’m not with this. Whom have we under discussion? Is it that attractive looking girl over at the
corner
table?”

Jurice tilted her head, affecting to weigh this description of Sarah.

“Attractive? Well, yes, I suppose she’s got
something
,”
she allowed. “I mean, she must have, mustn’t she?
You
think
she’s quite a dish, for instance, and Oliver here, though he wouldn’t admit it, is also sold on her, I suspect. And as I say, she seems able to whistle up men of her own to entertain her any time. Item
—
there’s a young, very prosperous estate
-
agent in the town who is always hanging around; item
—
the man she’s got along now. He’s her M.O. and from all one can see, doesn’t by any means confine himself to his professional visits.”

The other man shook his head. “I’m still not in the picture, I’m afraid. The girl is a nurse, you say, and the man with her is her M.O? How come?”

“Not a hospital nurse,” explained Jurice. “She is on her own, running a place for convalescent children next door to Greystones. Hence her ‘M.O.’, the local doctor who acts as the medical officer to her patients and as her own G.P. I suppose. It seems she got this house she owns under somebody’s Will and though Kate and Oliver had their eye on it for an annexe to Greystones and offered her a
fortune
for it, she insisted on hanging on to it and has been rewarding them ever since by needling them in every way she can. And not least,
I
’
d
say if I were asked, by the way in which she could be risking scandal over
him.
“Janice concluded with a significant nod at Sarah’s escort.

If she had worked for effect, she had certainly achieved it. Both Oliver and Mrs. Beacon echoed in chorus, “Scandal? What do you mean?”

Jurice affected wide-eyed contrition.

“Oh dear, have I spoken out of turn? I thought you’d have heard he
—
” another nod at Dr. Carrage
—
“is supposed to have a wife somewhere among those absent? No? Well, maybe it isn’t true. But if it is, and Nurse Sanstead is going about with him as she does and entertaining him at all sorts of unprofessional hours, as I happen to know she does, well, she may not care less about either her own reputation or his. But doing it practically on your doorstep, that’s another thing again. I mean, a Nursing Home and a Convalescent Home cheek by jowl are bound to get connected in people’s minds, and do you suppose she’ll shed any tears for the reputation of Greystones if it should get the backwash of any scandal that blows up at Moncton? Well, will she?”

The question was put to Mrs. Beacon who began, “Nonsense!
Everyone
knows there’s not the slightest connection.” She broke off as Oliver’s fist came down firmly upon the table. His eyes were cold and the lines about his mouth were hard as he asked Jurice, “I suppose you realize that what you’re saying is dangerously near to slander, don’t you?”

“Slander? Is it? Surely not, if it’s true?”

“For it not to be slander it needs to be proved true, which I doubt if even you would attempt on such thin evidence that Miss Sanstead and Dr. Carrage are having an affair. Anyway, d’you mind if I say I’m rather bored with our neighbor’s personal activities and that I’d prefer to change the subject?”

Jurice shrugged, but Oliver’s tone brooked no refusal and the subject was changed. Meanwhile Sarah, oblivious of the other table’s interest in her, was sharing generalities of talk with Steven Carrage, who did not broach what he wanted of her until their coffee was served.

Then he said, “You’ll be wondering about this favor I mentioned. What would you say if I asked you to look after Tony for me for an indefinite few days, that could be less than a week or might be as long as a fortnight?”

Sarah teased, “Do you call that a favor? I’d say I’d be delighted of course!”

“You have room for him? It would be from tomorrow.”

“Fortunately, yes, though I’d make room if I hadn’t.”

“Bless you. That’s a load off my mind. I couldn’t take him with me and I couldn’t leave him in the flat as his nanny can’t live in. So I’ll drop his things in before I go off, and get her to bring him back to you after school.”

“Yes, do that.” Sarah added, “Have you been called away unexpectedly then?”

Stirring his coffee, not looking at her, he said, “Yes, though do you mind if I don’t say more than that it’s a rather personal errand on which I can’t have Tony along? I’ve got leave of absence from the practice for a fortnight, though I may not need that time. Anyway,” he looked up to smile across at her, “I can go happy, if I can leave the boy in your care.”

“Then go happy,” Sarah smiled back. “We’re to expect you when we see you, is that it? But you’ll leave
me an address, won’t you? Just in case
—
”

But there, inexplicably after the half-confidence that his errand was a ‘personal’ one, she was up against the stone wall of reserve which he had suddenly erected against her once before. He said, “Yes,” at once correcting it to, “No. That is, as I’m not sure where I may be, all I can do is leave a couple of Post Restante addresses with my bank, the County and National in Berkshire Street
—
you know? So if you wanted anything you could get in touch with them. But you shouldn’t, should you, do you think?”

The very form of the question invited ‘No’ and she gave it to him. But somehow she felt snubbed and that their accord had struck a wrong, disturbing note.

Where was he going and for what purpose in such secrecy? Of course she hadn’t the right to know. But considering the responsibility for Tony which he was asking of her, she felt he might have trusted her more.

The thought came between them and, for her at least, spoiled the rest of their evening.

Tony was duly delivered the following afternoon and settled in at once with his usual calm acceptance of any situation. But late on his fourth night at Monckton Alice came in search of Sarah to report that on her last round of the children’s rooms she had found Tony restlessly awake, feverish and complaining of tummy pains.

“Oh
no
!”
Sarah, fresh from her bath and ready for bed, reached for her dressing-gown and pulled it on. “Have you taken his temperature?” she asked over her shoulder as she hurried ahead of Alice into his room.

“Not yet. I came straight for you. But you’ve only to look at him—”

That was only too true. Tony’s hair was damp with sweat; he was retching and though he was making manly attempts not to cry, the whimpers which were forced from him had already waked his room-mate in the other cot.

“Get Rob back to sleep, will you,” Sarah asked Alice as she spoke soothingly to Tony, asked him where the pain was and took his temperature, which proved to be 102 degrees.

To Alice, waiting anxiously for her verdict, she said, “I don’t know, it could be anything. But this tummy
-
ache and retching without sickness
—
I think I’d bet it’s appendix. Anyway,” she concluded as she drew the covers over the boy, “we can’t leave it till morning. We must get Dr. Ackland or Dr. Berrider to him. Will you go and phone?”

But Alice returned worriedly a few minutes later. “It must be that tree again, you know, the one that touched our wires and put us out once before. The line is completely dead; I can’t get the Exchange. Shall I run down to the
corner
-booth and ring from there?”

“Yes, do. You’re dressed; I’m not,” said Sarah, staying herself to comfort and to do what little she could for Tony.

The phone-booth was some two hundred yards away, and though it was to be expected that Alice would hurry, Sarah heard her return far sooner than she would have thought possible. Then there were voices below in the hall, a male one and Alice’s. And as Sarah looked out from Tony’s door, Oliver Mansbury’s stride was taking the stairs two at a time, while Alice hurried behind.

Instinctively Sarah put a hand to her ruffled hair and wrapped her dressing-gown more tidily. Both gestures were the automatic reflex of a nurse at the approach of a surgeon, but the leap of her heart at sight him was all her own and too disturbingly familiar.

She had time for the thought,
What am I letting him mean to me?
Then he was along the landing and in the room at a speed which spun her from his path, necessitating his hand on her shoulder to steady her,

“I’m sorry,” he said perfunctorily. “Is this the boy? Good. Let me examine him, will you?”

Over his shoulder as he bent to the bed Sarah looked her perplexity at Alice. But Alice only rounded her eyes and spread her hands by way of reply. And since Tony needed care and skill, needed them urgently, the ‘why’ and the ‘How’ of Oliver Mansbury’s arrival would have to wait.

Presently he straightened.

“Alice tells me your snap diagnosis was a grumbling appendix,” he told Sarah. “But my reading, I’m afraid, is that it’s an acute
inflammation
of the appendix with a
risk of peritonitis, which means there’s no tune to lose. He glanced back at Tony. “He’s Dr. Carrage’s boy, isn’t he? I think Alice said he is here because his father is away? But where can he be reached?”