Betty Neels - A Secret Infatuation

‘Days off.’

‘You leave soon?’

‘In about ten days’ time.’

‘You have another job?’

‘Not yet.’ She inched away from him. ‘I’m rather late for my dinner, sir.’

He took no notice. ‘I shall be going back to Holland in two weeks’ time. My theatre sister there is leaving to have a baby. I should like you to take over while she is away.’

She goggled at him. ‘Me? Holland?’

‘Not the end of the earth, Eugenie. A temporary post only but it will give you time to decide what you want to do.’

She opened her mouth to refuse, but he said testily, ‘No, I don’t want your answer now. Go and eat your dinner and think about it. Let me know in a couple of days’ time.’

He had gone, leaving her standing in the middle of the corridor wondering if she had dreamt the whole conversation. Over her shepherd’s pie and carrots she decided that it hadn’t been a dream; he wasn’t a man to waste his time on elaborate jokes or light-hearted suggestions.

‘You look very strange, Eugenie,’ observed one of her friends at the table. ‘Miles away.’

Which she was—mentally at least—in Holland.

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