Heaven Around the Corner. Betty Neels
than previously. ‘Uniform,’ she observed, after a brief greeting. ‘You don’t need to travel in one, of course, but you’d better have some with you. Dark blue, I think, and a cap, of course. Go to Harrods and charge it to my account.’
‘Will you want me to wear them all the time?’
‘Heavens, no—you’ll get your free time like anyone else. Besides, I shall be going out quite a bit and I shan’t want you around.’
Louisa blinked. ‘I think I should like to see your doctor before we go.’
Miss Savage shrugged. ‘If you must. He’s a busy man—you’d better telephone him. I’ll give you his number.’ She yawned. ‘Take a taxi and come here for me—a friend will drive us to Heathrow. Be here by ten o’clock.’ She frowned. ‘I can’t think of anything else. I shall call you by your christian name—what is it? You did tell me, but I’ve forgotten.’
‘Louisa, Miss Savage.’
‘Old-fashioned, but so are you. OK, that’s settled, then. I’ll see you here in ten days’ time.’
Louisa got to her feet. She had been going to ask about clothes; after all, Norway would be colder than London, or so she supposed, but somehow Miss Savage didn’t seem to be the right person to ask. Louisa said goodbye in her composed manner and went back on duty. After her patients on the ward, with their diagnoses clearly written down and an exact treatment besides, she found Miss Savage baffling. Her doctor would remedy that, however.
But here she was disappointed. Miss Savage’s treatment was to be negligible—rest, fresh air, early nights, good food. ‘Miss Savage is on Vitamin B, of course, and I shall supply her with nicotinic acid as well. I’ve already referred her case to a Norwegian colleague who will give you any information you may wish to know. You, of course, realise that she suffers from dyspepsia and a variety of symptoms which will be treated as they arise.’
Louisa listened to the impersonal voice and when it had finished, asked: ‘Exercise, sir?’
‘Let our patient decide that, Nurse. I’m sure you understand that she’ll have days when she’s full of energy—just make sure that she doesn’t tax her strength.’
‘And notes of the case?’ persisted Louisa.
‘They’ll be sent to her doctor in Bergen.’
She put down the receiver. Miss Savage was a private patient, which might account for the rather guarded statements she had just listened to. Certainly, from her somewhat limited experience of similar cases on the wards, the treatment was very much the same, and unlike the patients in hospital, the patient would probably have more say in the matter of exercise and food. As far as Louisa could see, she was going along to keep an eye on Miss Savage, and not much else. But at least it would get her away from Frank.
The thought was so delightful that she embarked on a shopping spree which left her considerably poorer but possessed of several outfits which, while not absolutely in the forefront of fashion, did a great deal for her ego. She went home once more and because it was the last time for a long while, endured her stepmother’s ill-humour and Frank’s overbearing manner. There was less than a week to go now and she was getting excited. It was a good thing that the ward was busy so that she had little time to think about anything much except her work, and her off duty was spent in careful packing and a great number of parties given as farewell gestures by her friends.
She wrote to her stepmother the evening before she left and posted it just before she got into the taxi, with such of her friends as could be missed from their wards crowding round wishing her luck. Once the hospital was out of sight she sat back, momentarily utterly appalled at what she was doing, but only for a brief minute or so. She was already savouring the heady taste of freedom.
She was punctual to the minute, but Miss Savage wasn’t. Louisa, gathering together the bottles and lotions and stowing them tidily in an elegant beauty box, hoped they wouldn’t miss the plane. But a telephone call from reception galvanised her patient into sudden energy and within minutes there was a knock on the door and three people came in—a young woman, as elegant as Miss Savage, and two men. They rushed to embrace Miss Savage, talking loudly and laughing a great deal, ignoring Louisa and then sweeping the entire party, complete with bellboys, luggage and an enormous bouquet of flowers, downstairs. Louisa felt that she had lost touch, at least for the moment. Once they were on the plane she would get Miss Savage to rest—a light meal perhaps and a nap…
No one spoke to her and they all piled into an enormous Cadillac and roared off towards Heathrow. She sat in the back of the car, with the young woman beside her and one of the men. Miss Savage sat beside the driver, and for someone with a liver complaint who was supposed to take life easy, behaved in a wild and excitable manner, but Louisa realised that it would be useless to remonstrate with her. She was bubbling over with energy, and the man who was driving was encouraging her.
At Heathrow they got out, and to Louisa’s horror, they all booked in for the flight. One of the men must have noticed the look on her face, because he patted her on the shoulder. ‘Not to worry, Nurse—we’re only taking Claudia to Bergen. Once she’s there, she’s all yours.’
And a good thing too, thought Louisa, watching the gin and tonics Miss Savage was downing once they were in flight. They were travelling first class and the plane was barely half full, which was perhaps a good thing considering the noise she and her friends were making. They had gone quietly enough through Customs. They had arrived with only a few minutes to spare and there had been no time for chat, but once on board they had relaxed. They might have been in their own homes, so little did they notice their surroundings. To Louisa, tired and apprehensive, the flight seemed endless. She heaved a sigh of relief when the plane began its descent and through a gap in the clouds she saw the wooded islands and the sea below, and then a glimpse of distant snow-capped mountains. Just for a moment she forgot her patient and her problems, and thrilled with excitement. Here was a new world, and only time would reveal all its possibilities.
CHAPTER TWO
BERGEN AIRPORT was small compared with Heathrow. It took only minutes for them to clear Customs, summon two taxis and start the drive to Bergen. Louisa, sitting in the second car with the elder of the two men, hardly noticed him, there was such a lot to see. The country was wooded and very beautiful and the road wound between trees already glowing with autumn colour. She had been surprised to see on a signpost that Bergen was twelve miles away to the north; somehow she had expected to plunge straight into the town’s suburbs. Presently they came to a village and then another, and then after twenty minutes or so, the outskirts of Bergen. Louisa was a little disappointed, for the busy road they were now on seemed very like any other busy road anywhere in England, but only for a moment. Suddenly they were in the centre of the town, skirting a small square park surrounded by busy streets. Her companion waved a vague hand at the window. ‘Nice little tea room there,’ he volunteered, ‘very handy for the shops—Claudia’s got a flat near the theatre.’
Which, while interesting, meant nothing to Louisa.
They turned off a shopping street presently and came upon another small park set in the centre of a square of tall houses, and at its head, the theatre. The taxis stopped half way along one side and they all got out. Miss Savage’s flat was on the first floor of a solid house in the middle of a terrace of similar houses, a handsome apartment, well furnished in the modern Scandinavian style, with its own front door in the lobby on the ground floor. A pleasant-looking young woman had opened the door to them and shown them up the short flight of stairs and disappeared down a passage, to reappear presently with a tea tray. Louisa, bidden to pour tea for everyone, did so, and then at Miss Savage’s casual: ‘Have a cup yourself, Louisa, then perhaps you’d unpack? There’s a maid somewhere, see if you can find her,’ went to do as she was bid.
The flat was larger than she had supposed. She had opened doors on to three bedrooms, a bathroom and a cupboard before she came to the kitchen. There was another girl here, young and pretty and, thank heaven, speaking English.
‘Eva,’ she said as they shook