Betty Neels - Never the Time and the Place

‘Yes.’

‘Good. We’ll keep to this side of town shall we? Do you know Epping Forest? Buckhurst Hill—the Roebuck—we can get something there.’

He didn’t speak as they took the little car through Hackney and on to the dreary bricks of Leyton and Wanstead, but then going north towards Epping Forest, he began to talk. Later she couldn’t remember what he had said, but his voice had been pleasantly soothing and she had relaxed. By the time they reached the Roebuck she had pulled herself together, even felt a little ashamed of herself. Next time, she promised herself, she would be armed against being taken unawares, and anyway, by the morning the whole Hospital would know…

The pub was very much to her taste, actually a country hotel with a comfortable bar nicely filled. Mr van Tacx parked the Mini and marched her briskly inside and sat her down at a table in a quiet corner.

‘Coffee and a brandy with it and sandwiches?’

She nodded, suddenly remembering that she was still in uniform and that she had done nothing to her hair or her face. It was disconcerting when he observed, ‘You look quite all right and no one can see the uniform.’

He wandered off then to the bar and came back presently with coffee and the brandy, followed a moment later by a plump smiling girl with the sandwiches.

‘I went to supper,’ said Josephine.

‘Did you eat anything?’

‘Well, no…’

‘Eat up, we can’t have you wilting away while Mr Bull’s gone—I need all the help I can get.’

She didn’t believe that; he looked the kind of man who would never need help, certainly not with his work. She said, searching for a safe topic, ‘There’s a long waiting list…’

‘I know.’ He bit into a sandwich. ‘Drink your brandy. What do you intend to do?’

Her eyes watered as she sipped. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Don’t be a dim girl. Get him back? Forget him and dedicate yourself to nursing for ever and ever? Or turn your back on him and start again? There are plenty of fish in the sea, you know, and you’ve the looks to pick and choose.’

Later on, she thought, when she had the time to think about it, his words were going to annoy her very much, but at the moment nothing seemed quite real. She took a sip of coffee to counteract the brandy and said with dignity, ‘I prefer not to discuss it with you. I appreciate your kindness in bringing me here, I really do, but my—my private life can be of no interest to you…’

‘Don’t be so priggish. What you mean to say is mind your own business. How old are you?’

Really, there was no end to the man’s arrogance. ‘Twenty-five almost twenty-six.’ She hadn’t meant to answer him, normally she wouldn’t have done but she wasn’t quite herself, it was, after all, only five days since she and Malcolm had split up and somehow the hurt of it was biting deeper now than it had done to begin with. She had her mouth open to remind him that that wasn’t his business either when he observed casually, ‘At least you’re not an impetuous young girl,’ and ignoring her affronted glance at this, ‘I’m thirty-four, a good age for a man to marry should he find the right girl.’

Josephine bit into another sandwich. Temper had sharpened her appetite.

‘That sounds very cold blooded…’

‘Indeed not, I enjoy female companionship, I enjoyed, too, falling head over heels in love—unfortunately the young lady in question threw me over for a man with rather more worldly goods than I…’

Josephine asked the obvious question. ‘Was she pretty?’

‘Delightfully so.’

‘And—and you loved her very much?’

‘Very much.’

She was a kind-hearted girl. She said warmly, ‘I’m sorry, I really am, you must feel awful.’

‘One learns to live with it.’ He got up. ‘I’ll get more coffee.’ She watched him cross to the bar. He didn’t look like a man with a broken heart, but she supposed that he was a man who kept his feelings hidden. She sipped the rest of her brandy and felt it warm her cold insides. It loosened her tongue, too. She said chattily as he sat down, ‘I don’t suppose that’s why, you’re so—so… You were awfully rude when we met—I daresay you hate all women. I didn’t like you, you know, I’m not sure if I do now.’

She drank some coffee; perhaps she shouldn’t have said that. She glanced at Mr van Tacx, staring at her from across the table, and was reassured to see that he was smiling. All the same she said uncertainly, ‘I didn’t mean to be rude,’ and then like a child, ‘I’m not used to drinking brandy.’

His voice was bland. ‘You’ll sleep well after it. Drink your coffee, we’re going back.’

She felt pleasantly tired as he drove away from the Roebuck. She closed her eyes and slept soundly until he stopped the car in the car park, and lifted her head from the shoulder she had rested it on. He studied her sleeping face for a few moments before setting her upright, smiling faintly. He said briskly, ‘Wake up, Josephine…’

She opened her eyes at once and blinked round and then at him. ‘Oh, we’re back—I’m sorry, I fell asleep. Oh, dear, what must you think…’

He leaned over and opened her door. ‘Jump out while I lock the car.’

He sounded abrupt and she made haste to do as he asked and then took the keys from him. ‘Thank you,’ she began in a rush, ‘I do appreciate your kindness…’

He then looked at her unsmiling. ‘Good night, Josephine!’ And when he had nothing more to say, she stood uncertainly for a moment and then went away.

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