Betty Neels - Dearest Eulalia

She said slowly, ‘I saw you in Outpatients this morning. I thought you were a surgeon—Mr, you know?’

He had taken her arm and was leading her to where the Bentley was parked.

‘I am a surgeon, but I do a good deal of bone marrow transplanting and I had been asked to take a look at several patients who might benefit from that.’

He popped her into the car, got in beside her and drove away.

Eulalia said, ‘Oh, I see,’ which wasn’t very adequate as a reply but it was all she could think of, and she answered his casual enquiry as to her day just as briefly; she hadn’t expected to see him again and it had taken her by surprise.

He went straight up to the Colonel’s room when they reached the house and when he came down again after ten minutes or so she was in the hall. There wasn’t a fire in the drawing room. If he accepted her offer of coffee he would have to drink it in the kitchen; the drawing room would be icy…

He refused her offer. ‘I’m leaving for Holland in the morning,’ he told her, then he smiled down at her, shook her hand, and was gone.

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