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Esmeralda Part 5

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"It must be quite late in the evening." She looked at him, trying to smile; he was in an elegant grey suit, which must surely mean that his day's work was done--the night staff would be on duty shortly and they would have enough to do without feeding her. "Now that is a pity, for I thought that I might have some coffee while you ate your supper. I got away later than usual and I don't expect to get my supper until the very end of the evening."

The nurse had come back, produced her syringe and given its contents as he spoke, and Esmeralda, whose hands had been tightly clasped, slowly uncurled them and relaxed a little.

"Give it a couple of minutes," encouraged Mr. Bamstra, and turned away to say something to the nurse, who went away again with a smiling nod as he crossed the room to sit in the small wooden chair provided for visitors, but it creaked so alarmingly under his weight that he got up again and came to sit very carefully on the side of the bed. He didn't speak or move for a few minutes; only when she said on a relieved sigh: "Oh, that's better," did he look at her.

"Good, and now listen to me.

When the pain returns, which I am afraid it will do for the first couple of days, you are to say so without delay--it doesn't help your recovery if you are in pain, you know. " He smiled.



"Do you like talking? I'll not apologise for discussing your foot over supper; nurses, I believe, have a habit of talking shop at their meals. "

"So do doctors!"

His eyes twinkled.

"How right you are! Has the pain gone completely?"

She nodded.

"I feel marvelous now, thank you. I hope I haven't been a nuisance to everyone."

"Not in the least. Want to see the foot?"

"Please."

He got up and took the sheet off the cradle, revealing her smoothly plastered foot and leg. The cast had been cut away in front so that the actual site of the operation could be inspected and got at if necessary. There were little steel pins sticking out of the tops of her toes; she inspected them without comment and asked: "No weights?"

"No--all the bones are back where they should be. I had to shape them up a bit; there were quite a few spurs and I chiselled off the odd bits and realigned them." He looked at her squarely.

"Both your feet are exactly alike now, Esmeralda."

"I'll never be able to thank you enough. It's like a miracle, it is a miracle really, and you did it. It must have taken a long time."

"So-so." He pulled up the light easy chair ready for her use when she was allowed out of bed, and sat down cautiously.

"That's better--were you quite comfortable yesterday?"

Yesterday seemed a long way off when she thought about it. He had brought her up to the fourth floor where the Private Wing was and introduced her to the Ward Sister, accepted a cup of coffee, and sat down to chat about nothing much for ten minutes--that had been kind of him, for she had had the time to get used to the strangeness of it all before he declared that he had better be off to theatre to see Sister about some changes he wanted made in the afternoon's list. He had barely gone before Esmeralda was swept along to her room, shown where everything was, told at what times her meals would be served and had the telephone explained to her.

"Very comfortable," she said.

"What nice girls the nurses are--and Sister. I had no idea that it would be as pleasant as this--and a room to myself, too. Do all your National Health patients have rooms like this one?"

"When it is considered desirable," he said quietly.

"I fancy I can hear your supper coming."

It was rusks and yoghurt and the promised tea, and because she felt so much better she viewed with envy the large pile of sandwiches which had accompanied Mr. Bamstra's coffee. He caught the look and chuckled.

"Still hungry?" he asked, and crossed to the bed to hand her a cheese sandwich.

"But that's the only one, mind, and for heaven's sake don't tell anyone, or I shall get shot."

He watched her gobble it down and then pour the last of the tea.

"Would you like to telephone your mother?"

"Oh, may I? I told her not to worry about today, that I'd call her in the morning."

"I let her know that everything was successful as soon as you were out of theatre, but she'll want to hear your voice."

Esmeralda nodded and asked rather shyly: "Mr. Bamstra, have you a mother?"

For a moment he looked utterly astonished, then he answered gravely: "Certainly, and sisters."

"That's why you understand."

He said nothing to this but went to plug in the telephone and get the number for her. He had come to sit on the edge of the bed once more the better to do it, which gave her a splendid opportunity to study his face at close quarters. It was a very handsome face, though not so young, and his hair, now that she could have a good look, was almost as silver as it was fair.

He spoke to the operator and then said quietly: "I'm thirty-eight and I have a great many grey hairs."

Esmeralda gave a gasp.

"I do beg your pardon...1 was only wondering. 1 didn't know you were looking--you didn't seem to be."

He gave her a quick amused glance.

"And you're twenty-six and there isn't a grey hair in that nice mousey head of hair, is there?" He spoke into the telephone and then handed the receiver to her.

"Here is your call."

Her mother's voice was very clear in her ear.

"Darling? How lovely to hear you, and what wonderful news! Thimo told me and I can hardly believe it. How do you feel?"

"Marvellous," Esmeralda a.s.sured her, not quite truthfully.

"I can't believe it's all over."

"You're tired; I can hear it in your voice, but just to hear you.. here's Nanny."

Nanny's voice, sharp and firm, came over the line.

"I can't think of anything to say. Miss Esmeralda, I can't abide these telephones--you know how happy I am for you, bless you. Is that good man with you?"

"Yes, Nanny, he is."

"I knew it," said Nanny in a satisfied voice.

"Now you just go to sleep like a good girl, and that'll please your old Nanny more than anything else."

"Yes, Nanny, I will--good night," and a moment later: "Good night.

Mother dear. "

Mr. Bamstra took the receiver from her and she yawned widely, caught his eye and gave a small, weary laugh.

"Oh, dear, I don't suppose a girl has ever yawned in your face before!" She was half asleep again.

"It's not because I don't like you," she a.s.sured him, mumbling a little as her eyelids drooped.

"Isn't it funny to think that when I was born you were eleven years old?"

She didn't wait for an answer to this remark but tucked her cheek into the pillow and slept, her mouth a little open so that now and then she gave a delicate small snore. Mr. Bamstra got up from the bed and stood looking at her; he looked for quite some time before he went to find the night nurse so that he might give his instructions for the night.

Esmeralda woke very early the next morning. The sky was already bright and she could hear the sparrows twittering on the ledges and gables of the hospital. Far away there were the first faint sounds of traffic, and presently the city's clocks struck the hour and played a little tune as well.

She lay and listened to them, aware of what had awakened her; the pain in her foot, rapidly mounting from a dull ache to a fierce red-hot agony. She bore it for a short time, but it didn't lessen, so she rang the bell, feeling mean because she was bothering the nurses who would have enough to do at that hour, and almost at once a nurse came in with a cheerful, "Good morning.

Miss Jones." She lifted her hand to show the syringe in its little dish.

"You see that we are ready and waiting, for Professor Bamstra says, " An injection is to be given on the instant that Miss Jones wakes, for there is much pain"!" She slid the needle into Esmeralda's arm as she spoke and then gave her a motherly pat.

"Very soon the pain is gone and then I will bring the tea."

Esmeralda's pinched face broke into a smile.

"You are a dear--thank you very much. Would you call me Esmeralda?"

"That is your name? Mine is Anna, I am here at night, and at eight o'clock Syja will come-you met her yesterday. And now the tea."

Esmeralda was pouring her second cup when Mr. Bamstra walked in. He said "Hullo," and then: "Still drinking tea? Is the pain easing?"

She was aware of a deep pleasure at the sight of him, quite forgetting what a sight she must look with her s.h.i.+ny, pallid face and damp, untidy hair no longer neatly plaited. She said quickly: "I'm fine, thank you--you've been up, haven't you? Would you like some tea?

There's a gla.s.s..."

He looked tired and his chin was bristly and he was wearing the slacks and sweater that most medical men wore when they were called out at night.

But he wasn't so tired that he couldn't examine her foot properly.

"Very nice," he p.r.o.nounced.

"You'll be up in a chair this morning." He smiled at her.

"Yes, we've been up--quite a few of us, I'm afraid--a nasty multiple crash.

Nice of you to offer your tea, but Anna is making me some coffee before I go.

Octavius will be along to see you after breakfast."

He had gone with a casual nod, leaving her feeling flat, but really there had been nothing for him to stay for, she told herself, looking dispa.s.sionately at her face in the hand mirror; she had never had illusions about her commonplace features, and a good thing too, for never had she appeared so plain and unattractive.

She felt better about it when she had breakfasted, bathed and been helped into a chair by the open window. It had been too much effort to put her hair up, but she had brushed it and tied it back with a ribbon and taken the greatest of pains with her face, so that, decked out in the pink nightie and gown her mother had given her, she wasn't ill pleased with her appearance.

"And now let Mr. Bamstra come," she told herself; he would find a quite different girl from the frowsty creature he had talked to at five o'clock that morning. Only he didn't come, only his registrar, Octavius, who examined her swollen, discoloured foot with its hideous little pins, made sure that the plaster wasn't too tight, enquired as to health and studied her charts, all without once mentioning his chief. He didn't seem in much of a hurry either, and when Zuster van Nelle came quietly in to join them, his pace became even slower.

Esmeralda, her romantic nose a-twitch, sensed something in the air and had this confirmed by the glances the two of them exchanged, and which she watched with all the sympathy of someone who was in love too. She liked Octavius, although he was a little serious-minded for her taste, and Monique van Nelle was just right for him; quiet and unflappable, with a pretty fairness and mild blue eyes--she was a first-rate nurse, too. Happily matchmaking, she suggested that they might have their coffee together.

"Would it matter awfully?" she asked, 'just for this morning--and would you call me The other girl smiled.

"Of course, and we will have coffee here too.

Usually we have it in the office, but if you don't mind that we speak our own language when we discuss the patients, then it does not matter. "

Esmeralda agreed happily and they had their elevenses together, and after a few minutes of casual talk they did what she had hoped they would do, lapsed into their own tongue, and she felt pretty sure that a great part of their conversation at least wasn't about the patients at all. She sat back, feeling pleased with herself, contemplating her foot and hoping that they were making a date.

Mr. Bamstra didn't come all day. Esmeralda read, did some knitting in a peevish way, slept a little and wrote letters to her mother, her friends at Trent's and a short, non-committal one to Leslie. She had expected him to telephone and he hadn't, and although she wouldn't admit it to herself, she had half hoped that he would send her some flowers--after all, it was an easy matter these days and not beyond his pocket. She had had a great bunch of summer flowers from the girls at Trent's, as well as roses from her mother and Nanny, and a great many cards besides. Perhaps, she told herself, making excuses for him, he had been too busy; it was hard to find time for such things when one's day was filled from end to end.

The unwilling thought that Mr. Bamstra's day had been filled from end to end and had even overflowed into the night hours, and yet he had found time to come and see her, didn't help in the least, even though she told herself sharply that it was his job to come anyway--she was his patient--but surely not at five o'clock in the morning after spending half the night in theatre?

She decided not to think about it any more, for it was giving her a headache, and although they had been careful to keep her free from pain all day, she felt tired and irritable. She flung down the knitting she had been pretending to do and picked up a book and read the same page over and over again without seeing a word of it until Syja brought her supper tray.

She ate it obediently, anxious not to be a nuisance to anyone, and allowed herself to be put to bed with the minimum of trouble. Tomorrow would be another day; there would be letters or a telephone call, and she would try out her crutches for the first time. She was to use them only for a few days, for once Mr. Bamstra was satisfied that the foot was healing cleanly, the heel of her plaster would be strengthened and she would be allowed to get around with a stout stick.

Monique and Syja came to say goodnight presently, and then Anna popped in to pa.s.s the time of day when she had taken the report. Esmeralda a.s.sured them all that she was free from pain, very sleepy and wanted for nothing, and resolutely closed her eyes.

She kept them shut for almost two hours, pretending that the faint nagging pain in her foot would go away at any minute now, not admitting to herself that even worse than the pain was the doubt that Leslie hadn't meant what he said.

"You are to have this," said Anna softly in her ear.

"You have pain, yes, although you lie there with your eyes shut. Professor Bamstra says that you must sleep, so you will drink this, please. Tomorrow the pain will be better."

And Esmeralda, weary of her thoughts, drank down whatever it was and was thankful to feel the pain receding, and very soon a delightful sleepiness took possession of her. Her head drooped on the pillows, and she slept--so soundly that when Mr. Bamstra came in at one o'clock in the morning, she didn't stir.

She made splendid progress. She mastered the crutches in no time at all, and went up and down the wide corridor of the wing, a little apprehensive about falling over or catching her wretched little wires on something, but she mastered this weakness too and stomped around, careful not to get in the busy nurses' way. She still had pain, but it was less now and was to be expected; a and Nanny, and a great many cards besides. Perhaps, she told herself, making excuses for him, he had been too busy; it was hard to find time for such things when one's day was filled from end to end.

The unwilling thought that Mr. Bamstra's day had been filled from end to end and had even overflowed into the night hours, and yet he had found time to come and see her, didn't help in the least, even though she told herself sharply that it was his job to come anyway--she was his patient--but surely not at five o'clock in the morning after spending half the night in theatre?

She decided not to think about it any more, for it was giving her a headache, and although they had been careful to keep her free from pain all day, she felt tired and irritable. She flung down the knitting she had been pretending to do and picked up a book and read the same page over and over again without seeing a word of it until Syja brought her supper tray.

She ate it obediently, anxious not to be a nuisance to anyone, and allowed herself to be put to bed with the minimum of trouble. Tomorrow would be another day; there would be letters or a telephone call, and she would try out her crutches for the first time. She was to use them only for a few days, for once Mr. Bamstra was satisfied that the foot was healing cleanly, the heel of her plaster would be strengthened and she would be allowed to get around with a stout stick.

Monique and Syja came to say goodnight presently, and then Anna popped in to pa.s.s the time of day when she had taken the report. Esmeralda a.s.sured them all that she was free from pain, very sleepy and wanted for nothing, and resolutely closed her eyes.

She kept them shut for almost two hours, pretending that the faint nagging pain in her foot would go away at any minute now, not admitting to herself that even worse than the pain was the doubt that Leslie hadn't meant what he said.

"You are to have this," said Anna softly in her ear.

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