for they were.
The week wore on. Debbie enlivened the days with her chatter, confiding with a good deal of giggling the carrying on of her various boyfriends, while Olivia patiently did most of the filing and hurriedly resorted Debbie’s careless efforts.
‘You ought to go out more often,’ declared Debbie as they drank their mid-morning coffee. ‘Never mind that Rodney of yours,’ she added with an unconscious lack of concern, ‘it would do him good. He ought to be taking you out somewhere every blessed moment he’s free. Give him a ring and say you want to go out this evening; there’s a smashing film on at the Odeon in Leicester Square.’
‘He’s not here. I mean he’s had to go away—something to do with his firm.’
‘Don’t you know where he is?’
‘No idea.’
‘Ring wherever he works and ask for his address. He’s not MI5 or anything hush-hush is he?’
‘No—something in the Stock Exchange.’
Olivia got up and went back to the shelves with a pile of folders just as the door opened.
Here he was again, as elegant as she remembered him and as calm. She left Debbie to ask him if she could help him.
‘Indeed you can. Once again I have here Mrs Elizabeth Brown’s notes, but it is Mrs Eliza Brown who is my patient.’
Debbie beamed at him. ‘Oh, sorry—that’s me. I make mistakes all the time—only Olivia puts them right and covers up for me. It’s a dull job, you know.’
‘I can appreciate that.’ He looked past her and wished Olivia a bland good morning. ‘Olivia,’ he added, and before she could answer that he said, ‘And you, young lady, what is your name?’
‘Debbie—what’s yours? You aren’t on the staff, are you? Have you come here to brush up your technique or something?’
‘Or something?’ He smiled a little. ‘And my name is van der Eisler.’
‘Foreign,’ said Debbie. ‘You wouldn’t know it except you’re on the large side. Got friends here?’
‘Er, yes, I have.’
Olivia, feverishly seeking Mrs Eliza Brown’s notes, clutched them thankfully and took them to him. He took them from her with a brief nod. ‘I mustn’t keep you from your work,’ he observed. He sounded as though he had already dismissed them from his thoughts.
As he closed the door behind him Debbie said, ‘Olivia, why did you hide? Isn’t he great? A pity you found the notes just as I was going to suggest that he might like me to show him round the town.’
Olivia said sharply, ‘You wouldn’t, Debbie—he might be someone fearfully important.’
‘Him? If he were, he wouldn’t come down to this hole, would he? He’d send a nurse. I think he rather liked me.’
‘Why not? You’re pretty and amusing, and you can look small and helpless at the drop of a hat…’
‘Yes, I know, but you’re not just pretty, Olivia, you’re beautiful. Even if you are—well, amply curved.’
Olivia laughed then. ‘Yes, I know, and as strong as a horse. Even if I were to faint there wouldn’t be anyone strong enough to pick me up off the floor.’
‘He could—strong enough to carry a grand piano upstairs without a single puff…’
‘I’m not a grand piano!’ laughed Olivia. ‘Look, we’d better get on, it’s almost time for our dinner-break.’
They went to the canteen in turn and Debbie, going first, came back with disquieting news. ‘You know that girl who works in the secretary’s office?’
‘Mary Gates,’ said Olivia. ‘What’s happened to her—got engaged?’
‘No, no. She told me something she’d overheard. There’s not enough money—they are planning to make redundancies—one’s going to have to do the work of two. Olivia, supposing it’s me who goes? Whatever shall I do? With Dad out of work, Mother’s part-time job barely pays the rent.’
Olivia said matter-of-factly, ‘Well, we don’t know anything yet, do we? They could have been talking about another hospital—and I don’t see how they could get rid of one of us.’
‘Well, I do. You’re too nice, Olivia. Do you suppose these people who sit around talking over super food and drink care a damn if they cut back on jobs, just as long as they can save some money for some pet scheme or other? We aren’t people to them, just stat-stat…’
‘Statistics,’ supplied Olivia. ‘Debbie, don’t worry. If—and I say it’s a big if—one of us is given the sack it will be me; they have to pay me more because I’m older. You’re not yet twenty-one so you earn less.’
Debbie looked relieved and then asked, ‘But what will you do?’
‘Oh, I can turn my hand to anything,’ said Olivia airily, and took herself off to the canteen. She shared a table with two clerks from Admissions, older than herself, competent, hard-working ladies both.
‘There’s a nasty rumour going round,’ one of them said to Olivia as she sat down. ‘They’re cutting down, starting with the domestics and then us.’
‘Is it just a rumour or for real?’
‘We’re to get letters tomorrow, warning us, and at the end of next week we shall get notes in our pay envelopes if we’re to be made redundant.’
Olivia pushed shepherd’s pie and two veg around the plate. Something would have to be done about Debbie. Her own wages would be missed at home, but they wouldn’t starve and they had a roof over their heads whereas Debbie’s family would be in sore straits. She ate prunes and custard, drank the strong tea, and went along to the secretary’s office.
He wasn’t there, but his PA was—a nice girl, who Olivia knew slightly. ‘I want you to help me,’ said Olivia in a no-nonsense voice.
She was listened to without interruption, then the PA said, ‘I’ll do my best—shall I say that you’ve got another job lined up? The hospital manager will be delighted; he’s going to be very unpopular.’
Olivia went back to her work, and spent the rest of the day doing her best to reassure Debbie.
It was pay-day in the morning and, sure enough, everyone had a letter in their pay-packet, setting out the need to retrench, cut costs and improve hospital services.
‘How will they do that if there aren’t enough of us to go round?’ demanded Debbie. ‘I shan’t dare tell my mum.’
‘Not until next week,’ cautioned Olivia. ‘You haven’t got the sack yet.’
The next week crawled to its end and Olivia opened her pay packet to find a note advising her that she had been given a week’s notice. Although she had been fairly sure that she would be the one to go, it was still a blow—mitigated to a certain
