Staff Nurse in the Tyrol (3 page)

Sonia put her feet down on the gravel of the drive very cautiously. She was sure that they were too sore to bear even the faint pressure of the stones through the soles of her shoes. They had almost reached the main entrance when there was the sound of running footsteps and then a cry of pleasure.

“Michael! You’ve come! You’re back!”

It took Sonia several minutes to realize that the pretty fair-haired girl who was clinging to Michael and showering him with kisses was indeed her friend Greta.

Michael gently disentangled himself from her embrace. “Greta, it’s your friend Sonia that you should be welcoming, not me. I work here, remember?”

Sonia was aware of something in his manner that drew att
e
ntion to the fact that Greta was not regarding her with quite as friendly eyes that she had remembered.

“So, Sonia, you have found the way here, and you have found also my very good friend Michael.”

CHAPTER TWO

Sonia
felt a chill in the air that hadn’t been there seconds before. The sun seemed to have clouded over and the mountains that had been so near and friendly now seemed to have taken on a threatening aspect.

“Yes, he has been very helpful.” She looked apologetically at Greta. “When you weren’t at the station I didn’t know quite what to do.”

Greta nodded carelessly. “My off-duty was changed at the last moment, and by the time I had explained to the Herr Direktor that it was most necessary that I meet you, I had a message from the porter. So
I
wait, not quite understanding what had happened, and now I know. Come. I show you the room where you sleep.”

Sonia relaxed. It could only be her weariness that had made her imagine that unfriendly look in Greta’s eyes. She glanced toward Michael Bradbury who was staring across the gardens at the mountains as if they alone held his interest.

“Thank you, Mr. Bradbury, for looking after me, and for my lunch.”

He made a mocking little bow. The very foreignness of the gesture served to emphasize his Englishness. “It was a pleasure, mam’selle. If you will forgive me, I have work to do.”

Sonia watched him go with an odd feeling of regret mingled with a sort of anger that she couldn’t explain. She started as Greta touched her on the arm.

“Sorry, Greta. I think I’m half-asleep. It was a long way to walk.”

Greta gave a little cry of astonishment. “You walked? But why? Was there not the tram?”

“We missed it at Berg-Isel.”

Greta was all sympathy now. “We go to your room. I show you the way. Perhaps you like a bath now. Then, we can sit on the terrace. It is cool there. The breezes blow from the mountains at this time. We drink a cool drink, or perhaps you like the tea. I do not return to the ward until six o’clock, so there is the time to talk. Your friend the name of whom I always forget. Oh yes, it is Joan, is it not?”

Sonia listened to the bright voice running on and on, but Greta did not seem to expect an answer. Like someone in a dream she followed the other girl down the long, cool corridors with tall lofty ceilings. The marble floors echoed to their footsteps. A porter followed with Sonia’s cases. As they went through one set of doors after another, she was reminded of a film she had seen where foreign royalty had been ushered through halls such as these. Of course St. Anton must have been one of the royal palaces a long time ago, and these great rooms where now the sick lay in row upon row of beds had seen the lavish parties of the past: the ladies in their silks and jewels, the courtiers in their satins. Would she ever feel that this was a real hospital, that Austria was more than just a page from a colored guidebook?

Greta was opening a door leading off the corridor. “Here is the room. You are alone for now. The two girls who share it with you have vacation now. My room, it is next door. You tap on the wall, here, like this, when you are ready for a bath, and I take you. This is the place for your clothes. There is not much space. Perhaps soon we have the new nurses’ home and rooms of our own. See? I go now, okay?”

Sonia sat down on the edge of her bed abruptly. “Yes, thanks, Greta.” She fumbled uncertainly with her purse. “Should I tip the porter?”

Greta shook her head. “I’ll see to that.”

Sonia watched the man put down her cases and follow Greta out of the room. As the door closed behind them, she felt an overwhelming urge to lie back on her bed and let sleep sweep her out of all this new strangeness. But Greta would be waiting. There was so much to see and there would be tonight for sleeping. Resolutely she stood up and took out her keys.

“Another cup of tea for you, Sonia? I think there is enough.” Greta took off the lid and gingerly lifted out the teabag. She tilted the pot and the pale amber liquid ran into Sonia’s cup. “There you are, but how you can drink hot tea when the day is so warm I cannot understand. It is most strange.”

Sonia laughed. “Call it an English custom.” She hadn’t the heart to tell Greta that what was in her cup bore little resemblance to the
s
trong hospital brew she was used to. However, it was something to drink, and she had been so thirsty after her long journey.

“Tell me what you think of Michael.” Greta’s tone gave the request the urgency of a command.

Sonia felt her cheeks grow hot. “It’s hard to say. He seems very sure of himself, and it put my bac
k up ...
at first.”

Greta nodded eagerly. “He has the arrogance of some of our Austrian men, but it is not so warm, how do you say it, so passionate. He likes to have his own way, but it does not matter to him the people he overrides to do so. He likes to do things for people, sick people, but I am not so sure that he likes people very much. He has no—how do you say it—tenderness for them.”

Sonia looked up at the mountains, their blueness softened by the shimmering heat haze. Was Greta right? Had his kindness on the journey, his readiness to come forward when she had been in difficulties, his concern that she should have something to eat, meant nothing but a casual gesture toward a lame dog? Something that he would have done in passing for anyone? Had that look in his eyes been only the detached clinical interest of a doctor making sure that she had the usual complement of two arms, two legs, etc., and was in a reasonable state of health? She shivered very slightly. There had been more than that. There had been a glimpse of a determination so strong that it made her own resolve seem like a shadowy thing—a determination that would stop at nothing, that would brush aside as unimportant anything or anyone that stood in its way.

“Perhaps you’re right. But tell me about my job. Where will I be to start with? When do I begin?”

Greta looked at her curiously. “You are so impatient. I cannot altogether understand why you have come. Here in the
Urol
all the nurses—no, that is not quite right—some of the nurses work hard so that they can save money, get the training, and then escape ...
to England, perhaps ... to Switzerland ... to the states, but always to get away. Here, there is not the opportunity, the chance to get ahead so quickly. The money is not good. Often the hospitals are so old. There are not enough beds, medicine, new drugs and the surgeons are too few. The patients are often old and tired and have not the will to get better. For them life has gone on too long. The wars saw their sons go away and not come back. For them there is only the work, the long days in the fields, and never enough food, always too little money. It is easy to die. To live takes the courage they no longer can find.”

“That’s why I have come,” Sonia broke in. “They have so little and they need help so much. At home it’s different.”

Greta laughed at her serious face. “We dance, we sing, and so we forget that underneath we are frightened. I think it is better so. Now to business, since you are so anxious to be busy. The Herr Direktor says that it is best if we work together on the same ward. Then it is possible for me to translate for you the things you do not understand. Myself I think it better if you do without me, but it is not for me to tell that to the Herr Direktor. Soon, quite soon, you will have enough German words. Many I think you know already. It is the confidence to use them that you don’t have as yet.”

“What ward are you on?” Sonia felt unsure of herself.

It had all sounded so simple when she had made up her mind to come. On holiday with Joan it had all seemed so easy.

“It is the children’s ward—the ward where they stay after they have the operations for the tonsils, ears, and so on. It is not difficult, that ward, but sometimes it is noisy. The little ones cry for the mothers, and the big ones are restless and cannot understand why they have to be in bed. But when the work is done we tell them the stories, sing songs, and it is fun.”

“Greta, so this is where you are! I looked everywhere for you.” Sonia turned at the sound of the laughing voice, and merry dark eyes gave her a quick glance of inquiry.

“Stefan, this is Sonia, the English nurse I told you about.”

The tall figure seemed to spring to attention and then relaxed in a graceful bow. “Sonia? That is not an English name.”

She smiled a trifle shyly. “My great-grandmother came from Hungary, I believe.”

She stopped abruptly. A shutter seemed to come down over his eyes, robbing them of light and laughter, and they took on a blank look.

“So she was an exile too.” The bitterness in his voice made the words sound cold.

“I’m afraid I don’t know much about it. I believe my great
grandmother was traveling through Hungary when they met.” There was something frightening about the way he had changed from gaiety to hatred, because it could only be hate that had made the skin seem pale and taut against the bones of his face.

“Stop it, you two! We have had enough of serious things for one afternoon. Stefan, are you not going to take us out this evening? It is only right that we show Sonia something of the gay city of Innsbruck.”

Stefan looked from one girl to another and some of the belligerence went out of his attitude. “So tonight we dance and make merry. Who cares that my people skulk in the cellars and have not enough to eat? So it shall be. Why should we think that we can alter what was meant to be? I call for you at nine and do not be late. I do not like waiting.” He turned to go. “What about Michael? Do you not wish that he comes? He is English like our friend Sonia and perhaps they like to talk together.”

There was no mistaking Greta’s withdrawal into unfriendliness. “It is not for you to say who should do this or do that. It is enough that we go out with you.”

Stefan lifted his eyebrows in apparent unconcern, but Sonia didn’t miss the brief quiver of his rather sensitive mouth. “Okay. You’re the boss.”

The Americanism sounded slightly incongruous and didn’t go with his parting bow.

“I must go on duty now. Do you wish to stay here? I will tell Maria to bring you to the dining room if you wish. It is probable that I may be late for supper. Sister Th
e
rese is not on duty this evening.”

Sonia nodded. “If it’s not too much trouble. I’m too comfortable to move.”

Greta gave her a quick look and marched off, the click of her heels on the flagstones ringing with an angry staccato sound.

Sonia sighed. It was all very confusing, and already she felt as if she had been inadvertently tipped into a cauldron of emotion that
was boiling with an intensity that could only be foreign. Would she ever get used to the swift changes of mood; the flash from laughter to bitter hatred, the anger that lurked behind the smile, the desire to kill that could clench the healing hands?

She looked drowsily through half-closed eyes at the broad bands of shadow marching down the mountain side. Those clouds looked rather threatening and the air became suddenly oppressive. Was there going to be a thunderstorm? The scene began to blur and her head slipped a little sideways on the cushion. There was a curious roaring sound in her ears. Was it only a few hours ago that she had been on the plane, and that noise had been beating against the close confines of the aircraft as if trying to escape into the limitless space of the sky? Then she could hear a voice, a lazy mocking voice.

“Is mam’selle so tired already? Too tired to explore the excitements of Innsbruck?”

Sonia opened her eyes slowly. So it wasn’t a dream and Michael was standing beside her chair looking down at her. The self-assurance of his expression angered her and she frowned a little. Who did he think he was anyway?

“Stefan is taking Greta and me into Innsbruck this evening,” she said slowly.

She had been excited at the time of the invitation—so why this feeling of regret now?

A smile altered the strong line of his mouth. “So you have met Stefan already. What do you think of our gallant fighting cock?”

“Enough to think you’re being a trifle unfair,” she retorted swiftly.

“And I thought English girls were as casual and colorless as skim milk. We live and learn.”

“How long is it since you were in England?”

“Long enough to know that I don’t want to return,” he said curtly. “And it’s none of your business.”

Twenty-four hours ago that would have been sufficient to reduce her to embarrassed silence.

“Of course it’s your own business, if that’s the way you want it. I was only wondering what England had done to you to make you feel so strongly about it.” She looked down at her hands. They were lying quietly in her lap, not twisting and turning in a misery of shyness.

“You wouldn’t understand.” He sat down abruptly on the edge of Greta’s abandoned chair. He picked up one of her hands and looked at it consideringly for a moment and then dropped it with a contemptuous gesture. “How could you understand? You’ve had it soft from the cradle. You’ve never been hungry. I don’t mean just for food, but for a single word of encouragement, for a solitary gesture of approval, for a sign that just one person cared a damn whether you made good or not.” He fell silent.

“But surely it mattered to your parents?” she ventured cautiously.

He threw back his head. “They didn’t even want me to be a doctor! They wanted me to come into the family business. What was good enough for them should be good enough for me. They thought I was ashamed of them. I suppose I was in a way, but not in the sense they thought. I was ashamed of their lack of ambition, their contentedness with their narrow little world. The opinions of their neighbors meant far more than those of the important people in the country. They were far more pleased to hear that Bill or Tom had a safe job than to know that some new discovery had been made.”

“But you’re a doctor. You did manage to accomplish that. Surely they were proud of that?”

He snorted. “They had a funny way of showing it. Dad didn’t even try to get someone to take over for him so he could come to the graduation ceremony, and of course Mother wouldn’t come without him.”

“Maybe they wanted to come. Maybe it wasn’t impossible,” Sonia
s
aid softly.

“Don’t you start sticking up for them. I don’t want your sympathy. You don’t know anything about things like that. You’ve never had to fight for anything in your life.”

“How do you know? You don't know the first thing about me!” Sonia snapped at him.

He held out a placatory hand. “Don’t bite! When did
you
have to fight?”

She glared at him. “You make me sick! You think you know the answer to everything!”

Michael laughed, and there was a tinge of genuine amusement in the sound. “Not everything, but I would like to know, just as a matter of curiosity, what you had to fight for.”