Betty Neels - The Quiet Professor

She woke early because it was a habit born of hospital routine, and decided that it was far too soon to get up. She got out of bed and pulled back the curtains. The sun wasn’t quite up but the sky was clear and the country around was green and fresh. She drew a contented breath and then let it out with a small gasp. Oscar and Melanie had just left the house by the kitchen door below her window. They were talking softly as they went down the garden to the gate at the end which would lead them to a lane which would take them into the woods beyond the house.

Megan got back into bed and thought about it. Perhaps Oscar hadn’t slept well, and, intent on an early morning walk, had met Melanie, who had possibly got up early to get morning tea for everyone. He had talked during supper about bird watching; he might have been going to do just that and Melanie had offered to show him the best places to watch from. She turned over and went to sleep again.

She woke a couple of hours later to find Melanie sitting on the edge of the bed with a cup of tea in her hand, and she sat up, her dark hair hanging in a tangle about her shoulders. ‘Where were you and Oscar going?’ she asked.

‘Did you see us? Why didn’t you call—we’d have waited for you. Oscar wanted to see some birds, remember? And he came downstairs while I was in the kitchen—I’d got up early to get the tea so we had a cup and I took him along to Nib’s Wood.’ She looked anxious. ‘You don’t mind, Meg?’

‘Darling, of course not. As a matter of fact that’s what I thought you were going to do. Oscar’s nice to be with, isn’t he?’

‘Oh, yes, he doesn’t mind that I’m not witty and amusing…’

‘Who does mind?’

‘Oh, George at the Manor and the Betts boys at Home Farm and the new clerk in father’s office.’

Megan said indignantly, ‘They don’t say so?’

‘Well, not quite, but that’s what they mean.’

Megan put her arms round her sister, ‘Darling, don’t take any notice of them. You’re nice as you are and all the nice men—the kind you’ll marry—like girls like you.’

‘Oh, I do hope so.’

Melanie put a gentle hand on Meredith’s head. He had curled up on the end of the bed and not stirred but now he opened his eyes and yawned. ‘I’d better get up,’ said Megan, ‘and see to this monster. Is breakfast ready?’

‘Half an hour. What are you going to do today?’

‘Show Oscar the village, give Mother a hand, potter in the garden. Oscar works very hard. I dare say he’ll like to be left to do his own thing.’

When she got downstairs her mother was in the kitchen dishing up eggs and bacon, and Melanie was making toast.

Megan carried the coffee through to the dining-room and found her father and Oscar there. She stooped to kiss the top of her father’s head as he sat in his chair and offered a cheek to Oscar.

He flung an arm round her shoulders. ‘I was up early; I’ve been bird watching,’ he told her. ‘Melanie was up too and she kindly showed me the best places to go to. I must say the country around here is delightful. I’m almost tempted to turn into a GP and settle down in rural parts,’ but when he saw the look on Megan’s face he laughed and added, ‘But I won’t do that, I’ve set my heart on a good London practice and a senior post in one of the teaching hospitals. Megan knows that, don’t you, darling?’

‘Yes, of course I do. You’ll be so successful that we’ll be able to afford a cottage in the country for weekends.’ She smiled at him, knowing that he’d set his heart on making a success of his career and understanding that he intended to do just that with a single-minded purpose which could ignore her own wish to live away from London. He deserved success, she thought; he had worked very hard and he was a good doctor. She watched him being gentle with Melanie and felt a glow of gratitude; her sister, usually so painfully shy, was perfectly at ease with him.

Driving back to Regent’s on Sunday evening, she asked Oscar, ‘You enjoyed yourself? You weren’t bored?’

‘Good lord, no, it was marvellous. I like your family, Megan. That young brother of yours is a splendid chap.’

‘Yes, he is, and he likes you. So does Melanie. You must have seen how shy she is with people she doesn’t know well but you got on with her splendidly.’

He didn’t answer, she supposed because of the sudden congestion of traffic.

At the hospital he said, ‘How about another weekend when I can get one?’

‘Lovely. I’ll be going again in two weeks but I don’t suppose you can manage one as soon as that.’

‘Afraid not, but I could try for the weekend after.’

‘Let me know in good time. I’ll have to alter the off duty but I know Jenny won’t mind. Ought you not to go home and see your parents?’

‘I’ll scrounge a half-day during the week.’

He didn’t ask her if she wanted to go with him. Perhaps he had noticed that she and his mother hadn’t taken to each other. That would take some time, she reflected as they said goodnight.

Monday morning was busy for there were admissions for operation on the following day, which meant all the usual tests, a visit from the anaesthetist, examinations by painstaking housemen and finally a brief visit from Mr Bright during the afternoon to bolster up his patients’ failing spirits and cast an eye over his houseman’s reports. The last patient of the four was a thin, tired-looking woman and he spent longer than usual talking to her, putting her at her ease before turning to the papers in his hand.

He paused at the path. lab. report and read it again. ‘You’ve seen this, Sister?’ he asked.

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Most unusual. Be good enough to go to the path. lab. will you, and check with Professor van Belfeld? We shall need to get a supply…’

Megan nipped smartly through the hospital and opened the path. lab. department door. The professor wasn’t going to like having one of his decisions questioned.

He was at his desk. She wondered if he sat there all day, for he looked remarkably alert and not in the least tired. He looked up as she knocked and went in. His, ‘Yes, Sister?’ was politely questioning.

‘Mr Bright asked me to check with you—this blood-group report. He thought it was unusual.’

‘It is unusual; it is also correct. I checked it personally. You may tell Mr Bright that with my compliments.’ He picked up his pen. ‘Run along now, I’m rather busy.’

She turned on her heel and made for the door, choking back all the rude words on her tongue. Run along, indeed; who did he think he was?

‘Be good enough to close the door firmly as you go out, and tell Mr Bright that I have arranged for a suitable blood donor.’

Megan, a mild girl, was boiling over. Such rudeness… She opened the door and said unforgivably over one shapely shoulder, ‘Tell him yourself, sir,’ and flounced out haughtily, leaving the door slightly ajar.

Hurrying back to the ward, the enormity of what she had said hit her. She would get the sack; insubordination, she supposed it would be called. Oscar would be angry with her for losing her temper and behaving like a silly child; her parents would be unhappy; she would be given one of those references which damned with faint praise and would end up looking after a geriatric ward in some old-fashioned hospital in the Midlands. Her wild thoughts showed plainly on her face when she got back to the ward and Mr Bright asked, ‘Did Professor van Belfeld eat you alive?’ He laughed as he said it and she said quickly,

‘No, no, Mr Bright. He asked me to tell you that he agreed that it was a most unusual blood-group and that he had arranged for a blood donor.’

‘Good man. I don’t know what this hospital would do without him.’