When she reached the bottom of the drive Godfrey was waiting at the wheel of his car.
“Ah, there you are at last, darling.’ He opened the car door for her. “I thought you were never coming.” She got in beside him. “Sorry to be so late, but I just couldn’t get away.”
“Well, I don’t mind how long I wait for you, you know that. It’s you I’m concerned about, working such long hours.” He pressed the self starter.
“You’re a dear,” Andrea told him. “And it’s sweet of you to be so concerned for me.”
He looked at her with those clear brown eyes which Andrea always thought were the nicest thing about Godfrey. So clear and direct, so honest.
“Concerned!” he repeated. “Have you forgotten that I'm in love with you?”
“No, my dear, I haven’t,” she answered softly. “But let's get going, shall we, or it will be dark.”
He tried the starter again and this time the engine responded. “Where would you like to go?”
She thought for a minute. “Let’s go through Burton Woods to Cliftonville. It should be lovely around Burton just now and Cliftonville is always so bright and gay.”
“Right,” he said, and they moved off.
For a while Godfrey drove in silence, then presently he asked, “Well, how did you get on, on your first day?”
“Oh, all right, I think.”
“Only ‘all right’ ?” he said with a laugh.
“I was terribly scared at first.”
“You scared!”
She laughed. “Yes. When I saw that ward full of patients in bed and realized how little I really knew, I panicked and nearly turned and ran.”
“I wish you had—to me.”
“Oh, now Godfrey——” she protested gently.
“I know what’s going to happen,” he went on gloomily. “You’ll either fall in love with one of the patients— they’re all sure to fall in love with you, anyhow—or worse, you’ll fall for one of those doctors. From what I hear, none of them are to be trusted.”
Andrea was thankful that at that moment Godfrey had to concentrate on his driving. She felt her cheeks coloring again at the memory of a pair of steely, grey eyes looking into hers, and of the erratic beating of her heart.
Godfrey glanced at her. “Hello, annoyed about something?”
“No,” she answered hurriedly.
“Well, you look it. Don’t tell me that one of those medical johnies has been bothering you already?”
She forced herself to speak natuarlly. “Not in the way you think. I’ve managed to get on the wrong side of one of them. The head surgeon to be exact.”
She told him something of what had happened, whereupon he threw back his head and laughed.
“What a girl you are! I can just imagine it. I never knew anyone with such a delightful mixture of goodness, tenderness, spirit and independence as you. You’re going to make quite a name for yourself there, I can see.”
They were silent again and presently houses and shops were left behind and the road wound entrancingly between the beeches and chestnuts of Burton Woods.
Godfrey stopped the car, drawing it on to a natural grass verge at the edge of a deep, tranquil pool, whose green depths mirrored the overhanging branches of the willows and hazels. Andrea gazed up at the faint green of the trees.
“Ah!” she breathed, inhaling deeply the fragrant, country air. “Lovely! Come along, Godfrey. Let’s leave the old crock here and take a stroll through the woods.”
Climbing a stile, they left the road, skirting the pool by a rough track, and, hand in hand, trod the soft, brown carpet of the wood. The fresh spring air breathed promise of pleasant summer days and the swollen buds of the trees were just beginning to unfold into a pale, delicate green. The chestnut trees spread loving arms above them, allowing glimpses of a pale blue, windswept sky. Andrea felt Godfrey’s handclasp tighten, and turning a smile upon him, she returned his pressure.
The dead brown leaves under their feet had a pleasant, carefree sound and above them the birds twittered cheerily.
Presently, they came to a clearing where they sat down to rest by an old tree trunk. Godfrey spread out his macintosh so that Andrea could sit on the soft ground and use the tree trunk for a back rest.
“I’d almost forgotten how lovely spring could be,” breathed Andrea.
“It’s because of the winter in between, I suppose,” said Godfrey. “If it were not for Autumn and Winter, we wouldn’t appreciate Spring and Summer.”
“I suppose not. Isn’t it strange that though Spring comes year after year in the same fashion, it always seems new and wonderful.”
“As if it is happening for the first time—like being in love,” Godfrey answered pensively.
Andrea was silent. Clearly Godfrey was in love. But she herself—was she in love? Was there the wonder and beauty of Spring in her feeling for him?
She felt his arm tighten about her shoulders. “Andrea,” he whispered. I love you so, my darling. Won’t you at least become engaged to me? Then I shall feel that you belong to me by promise.”
Andrea did not reply for a moment. There was a part of her that wanted to say “Yes.” She just could not imagine her life without Godfrey. Yet somehow she found herself unable to form the word.
“Darling,” she said at last. “I’m very, very fond of you, you know that. But I feel so unsure of myself. Somehow, I don’t feel than I can become engaged until I’ve given at least a year, maybe two, to nursing. Please, Godfrey, don’t ask me again just yet, There won’t be anyone else, I can promise you that.”
He gave a wry smile. “All right. You win, I suppose.”
She looked at him and fondled his cheek.
“You’re a dear, and I do love you,” she said impulsively.
He bent and kissed her gently on the lips.
“I’ll wait, my darling,” he said gently. “Only don’t make it too long.”
As darkness began to fall, the wood became gloomy and they retraced their steps.
Godfrey again had difficulty in starting the car.
“Is anything wrong?” asked Andrea.
“I don’t know. She was all right yesterday. Maybe it’s just the contact points that need cleaning. I’ll do them tomorrow evening, unless you’re free, that is.”
After one or two more attempts the engine started and they continued on their way.
It was a pleasant evening. After a short walk along the brightly lighted promenade, the salt sea breeze whipping their faces, they had supper at a little cafe before setting off back into the hospital.
The woods were quieter now, the song of the birds had ceased, and the trees in the lights of the car looked eerie. Then suddenly the engine spluttered and the car came to a stop.
“Damn!” muttered Godfrey. “That certainly doesn’t sound like contact points.”
“What then?” Andrea asked rather anxiously.
They had only allowed a bare half hour in which to get back to the hospital and she didn’t want to be late on her first day.
Godfrey looked at her. “I’m sorry to say that it sounded more like the petrol pump.”
“Oh, dear. Will it take long?”
“Round about an hour, I’m afraid.”
“An hour!”
“I’m sorry, Andrea. Will it matter very much if you’re late?”
“Well, we are supposed to be in by ten o’clock while we’re training. It’s because we’re up so early in the morning, I suppose. If only there was a telephone I could ring up and explain, but there isn’t a call box along this road, I know.”
“The only thing for you to do is go back by bus. I’m terribly sorry, Andrea. Anyway, I’ll get out and take a look.”
“I’ll come and hold the torch for you,” Andrea offered and together they got out of the car. Godfrey lifted up the hood of the engine while Andrea held the light.
The powerful head lights of an oncoming car lit up the country road, and Godfrey straightened up to wave on the driver, while Andrea averted her head from the dazzle of the lights as the car drove past.
A few yards further on, however, the car stopped and the driver got out and walked towards them.
“Is anything wrong? Can I help you?” he called out.
Andrea’s heart gave a sudden bound as she recognized the voice. It was Mr. Graham.
“Well! Nurse Grey, isn’t it?” he said as he drew near enough to recognize her.
Andrea made a hurried introduction.
“What seems to be the trouble?” he asked Godfrey. “Will you be able to fix it?”
“I will, yes,” Godfrey answered. “But I’m afraid it will take a little time, and Andrea, er, Nurse Grey, will be late. We were just wondering if she could get a bus.”
As he spoke a bus shot passed them.
“Goodness!” cried Andrea. “That means it will be half an hour before another one comes along.”
Martin Graham smiled slightly. “Such anxiety to get back to the hospital on time would warm Matron’s heart——”
“I prefer to be in on time!” Andrea retorted hotly.
“Well, there’s no need for you to worry in either case. I’m going back there myself and will gladly give you a lift. That is, if you can trust yourself in my hands,” he added mockingly.
“I’d really rather not impose myself upon you, Mr. Graham,” she answered quickly, stung by his tone.
“Andrea,” Godfrey put in, “I’d feel much happier if you would accept the doctor’s offer.”
Again the mocking voice came. “I can assure Nurse Grey that she will be perfectly safe with me.”
To Andrea his words implied that she was neither attractive enough, nor sufficiently interesting for him to dream of trying to flirt with her. She bristled.
“That remark was quite unnecessary,” she said sharply.
“Andrea!” exclaimed Godfrey.
He could not imagine what had come over her. She was not usually so touchy, or so rude.
There was a moment’s silence. Andrea felt that nothing on earth would now induce her to accept his offer of a lift. Then slowly she realized that she was creating something of a scene and that even if she caught the next bus she would still be terribly late.
She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” she said, looking from one man to the other. “I shall be very glad of a lift back to the hospital, thank you, Mr. Graham.”
Godfrey looked relieved. Martin, with a slight inclination of the head, led the way to his car.
Andrea said good night to Godfrey, and Martin, after expressing the hope that the little car would soon be going again, started up his own black saloon.
With her gaze fixed determinedly straight ahead, Andrea remained silent. She would show him that here, at any rate, was one nurse who did not find him irresistible. But in spite of her determination, she felt her heart quicken its tempo as he gave her a sidelong glance.
Suddenly he laughed. “My dear girl, there’s no need to sit there looking so grim. I’m not likely to run out of petrol or anything as old-fashioned as that.”
“Really?” she answered coolly. “I can assure you, Mr. Graham, that if—as you put it—I look grim, it is merely because I just do not wish to talk.”
He gave her a quick look.
“Perhaps I should have said ‘prim’—not grim——”
She flushed angrily in the darkness of the car.
“If you will set me down at the first bus stop, Mr. Graham, I will finish the journey by bus.”
He looked at her sharply and to her surprise drew up to the curb and stopped the car. She had not really expected him to take her so completely at her word. She reached out her hand to open the door but he shot out his arm and restrained her. Then taking hold of her by the shoulders, he turned her round to face him.
“You know, Nurse, I find you just a shade too good to be true,” he said coolly. He pulled her suddenly towards him and brought his lips down upon hers in a hard, com-manding kiss.
She struggled angrily, her heart pounding. Then abruptly he let her go. For a moment they stared at each other in silence. Andrea, a bright spot on either cheek and her lips tingling from his kiss, heard the taunting words echoing in her ears.
“I find you just a shade too good to be true.”
She reached out her hand once more to open the car door and make her escape. She felt that to stay in the car another moment would suffocate her.
“You needn’t worry,” he said abruptly as she fumbled with the door. “I’m not likely to do that again.”
With a press of the self-starter, he set the car in motion again and quickly gathered speed.
The beating of her heart subsided and for the rest of the journey neither spoke. Vaguely, Andrea sensed a change in his attitude. Then the hospital loomed in sight and as the strong headlights of the car pierced the tall, iron gates, the lodge porter ran out to open them. Recognizing the surgeon’s car, the man raised his hand in acknowledgment and would have failed to see the passenger, but Martin, having a regard for the rules inspite of the impression he may have given, pulled down the window of the car.
“I have Nurse Grey here.”
Andrea gave him a quick glance. Surely he would add: “I gave her a lift.” But he didn’t, and the porter, with barely a change of feature, repeated: “Nurse Grey, right, sir.”
The huge car continued up the long drive and a few yards from the Nurses’ Home, he opened the door for her.
“Well, here you are. I’m sorry for what happened.” Then added abruptly: “Good night. Go and get your beauty sleep or you’ll be late on duty in the morning.”
Vaguely irritated by his summary dismissal, Andrea muttered a curt good night. Her mind a confusion of emotions, she went to her room. What kind of a man was he, this Mr. Graham? Was he—off duty—at any rate, an outrageous flirt, or was he a cynic about women in general and nurses in particular?
Chapter Three
BREAKFAST at the Dorchester Royal Hospital was a formal affair. The nurses sat strictly according to seniority, while one of the night Sisters presided at the serving table. Andrea sat at the very bottom of a long table of very junior and first year nurses. About half way up the table sat a rather pale, dark-haired nurse with a somewhat remote expression. Andrea caught her eye once or twice and the girl gave her a slow smile.