more than a minute or so.
Friday’s clinic was overflowing and, to make matters worse, Mrs Green went home during the morning, feeling, as she put it, not at all the thing. That meant Claribel would have to take on several more patients as well as her own, for two of the other girls were at the ante-natal clinic and the other two were only just qualified and needed an eye kept upon them.
Claribel got home half an hour late. To have sat down, kicked off her shoes and drunk the teapot dry would have been bliss; as it was, she fed the cats, showered, changed into a short jacket and plaid pleated skirt, got her aching feet into her rather smart boots, popped the cats into their basket and opened the door to Mr van Borsele, looking as composed as if she had spent the entire day doing nothing much.
He ran a knowledgeable eye over her person. ‘Tired? You can doze in the car.’
A remark which incensed her after her efforts. But she hadn’t noticed the shadows under her eyes or the lack of colour in her cheeks.
She wished him a good evening, adding that she had no desire to doze. ‘Besides, you might want me to map-read for you.’
He took her bag from her and stowed it in the boot and then put the cat basket on the back seat. ‘Straight down the A303, once I’m on it. You can wake up when we’re nearby and tell me where to go from there.’
She said huffily, ‘Well, if you want me to sleep all the way I’ll do my best. There’s no need for you to talk.’
He shut the door and made sure that it was locked. ‘In you get,’ he urged her. ‘You’re a bit edgy but I dare say you’ve had a hard day with Mrs Green away.’ He got in beside her and turned to look at her. ‘You thought that I wouldn’t wait if you weren’t ready? I am an impatient man, Claribel, but for some things I am prepared to wait—if necessary, for ever.’
She puzzled over this and found no clear answer. ‘Have you had a busy day?’ she asked politely.
‘Very. A quiet weekend will be delightful. You know Bath?’
‘Quite well—we go there to shop sometimes. You—you said you had friends there?’
He was driving west out of London in heavy traffic. ‘Yes, they live at Limpley Stoke—not friends; my young sister and her husband.’
‘Oh, she’s Dutch, too…’ It was a silly remark and she waited for him to say so. But he didn’t.
‘She spent some years over here at boarding school. She’s happy here and of course they go to Holland frequently.’
Claribel tried to imagine his sister. Tall, short; thin, fat?
‘She’s not in the least like me: small, fair and very slim.’ He glanced sideways at her. ‘Close your eyes, Claribel, you are tired.’
She frowned. Tired so often meant plain. The thought didn’t stop her doing as she was told; she was asleep within minutes.
CHAPTER THREE
THEY were racing past Stonehenge when she awoke, feeling much refreshed.
‘Feel better?’ asked Mr van Borsele.
‘Yes, thank you. There’s a turning on the left once you’ve got to Wylye; it’s a side road to Tisbury. You can get back on to the A303 if you go through Hindon. If you go via Warminster it’s the quickest way to Bath.’
‘Oh, dear, oh, dear. You can’t get rid of me quickly enough, can you, Claribel?’
Any sleepiness she might have felt evaporated in a trice. ‘I am merely trying to be helpful; you’re coming out of your way to take me home and I am grateful but I don’t wish to impose upon you.’
‘Very commendable, Claribel, your thoughtfulness does you credit.’ She could hear the laugh in his voice. ‘Let me hasten to assure you that no one has, or ever will, impose upon me. I do what I like and I contrive to get my own way.’
‘How very arrogant. I am surprised that you have any friends, Mr van Borsele.’
‘Ah, but I am also cunning; I hide my arrogance under a smooth exterior.’ He contrived to sound ill-done-by. ‘I am in fact both soft-hearted and lovable when you get to know me.’
Claribel felt laughter bubbling up inside her. She gave a little chuckle. ‘What a good thing that we’re almost there or I might begin to feel sorry for you. The gate is on the left; it’s just a short drive to the house.’
Light shone through the downstairs windows and as he drove slowly up to the door Mrs Brown flung it open. She hadn’t got her spectacles on, so she blinked short-sightedly as the car stopped. ‘Darling, you got a lift? How nice—bring them in, whoever it is.’ She came a little nearer and saw Mr van Borsele move from the car. ‘My goodness!’ she observed cheerfully. ‘What a large man, and isn’t that a Rolls-Royce?’
Claribel skipped round the car and embraced her parent. ‘Mother, this is Mr van Borsele from the hospital. He kindly gave me a lift home—he’s going to Bath.’
She tucked an arm through her mother’s. ‘My mother, Mr van Borsele.’
He shook hands gently, smiling down at her. ‘How do you do, Mrs Brown?’
‘Come inside,’ invited Mrs Brown, beaming up at him. ‘Have a cup of coffee—something to eat? Sandwiches?’
‘You’re very kind, but I am expected at Bath this evening.’
‘My husband would like to meet you. Are you taking Claribel back?’
He glanced at Claribel, standing silently. ‘Sunday evening, about six o’clock? Perhaps I shall have the pleasure of meeting Mr Brown then.’
‘That will be delightful. Supper?’
He shook his head and if he didn’t feel regret he was pretending very well indeed. ‘I’ve a late evening date—I must be back in town by nine o’clock at the latest.’
He shook hands again, gave Claribel the briefest of smiles and got back into his car.
They watched him drive away and Mrs Brown said, ‘What a very nice man. Is he a friend, darling?’
‘No, Mother, he’s not. We argue whenever we meet, which is seldom. He has a nasty caustic tongue.’
‘Most unpleasant.’ They were inside the house, the door shut. ‘His patients must detest him?’
Claribel had been brought up to be fair and not to fib unless she really had to. ‘Well, as a matter of fact, they all dote on him; he’s quite different with his patients.’
She had tossed her jacket on to a chair and they had gone into the sitting-room. Mrs Brown shot a quick look at her. ‘So he must be nice. It was kind of him to bring you home, darling. A pity he didn’t stay for a cup of coffee.’
Claribel shook up a cushion and let Toots and Enoch out of their basket. ‘Yes, I suppose I should have suggested it.’
Her
