breathing normally was a bit of an effort. Trixie came to a thankful halt at last and the professor turned her round and studied her face.
‘That is better. I think that nursing is not a suitable life for you.’
‘Oh, do you? That’s what Staff Nurse Bennett says; that I’ll never make a good nurse.’
‘An unkind young woman.’ He stared down at her face, nicely rosy from the wind and the sea air. ‘It has occurred to me that I have been over-hasty in broaching the subject of our marriage. Nevertheless, I hope that you have given it your consideration. Perhaps you have a boyfriend of your own or you may not wish to marry?’
His voice was quiet and very faintly accented.
‘Me? A boyfriend? Heavens, no. At least,’ she hesitated, ‘before I started my training, there was a man who was one of Margaret’s friends—Aunt Alice would have liked him for a son-in-law, but for some reason he—he liked me instead of Margaret. That’s why I started nursing…’
It was a meagre enough explanation but the professor seemed to understand it. ‘I see—you say “out of sight, out of mind”, do you not?’
‘Yes, but I didn’t like him anyway…’
‘You have no objection to being married, do you?’
‘None at all,’ she told him soberly, and thought what a strange conversation they were having. Not even a glimmer of romance either, but the professor didn’t strike her as a romantic man; his work was his life, and she suspected that his social life was something he regarded as an unwelcome necessity.
‘So you will consider becoming my wife? I have already explained to you that all I ask is peace and quiet so that I may write whenever I have the time. You will not mind being left to your own devices? There will be times when I shall be obliged to attend dinner parties and similar occasions, but I shall rely upon you to deal with any entertaining which I may be obliged to do from time to time; to deal with the tiresome details, answer the telephone calls and return the visits which are so distracting.’
He looked away from her to the grey sea, and Trixie said in her matter-of-fact way, ‘I expect you are very sought after—there must be lots of girls who would like to marry you.’
He didn’t look at her, although he smiled a little. ‘You would not mind acting as my guardian? I find that young women can be very ruthless in getting what they want.’
It would be worth trying, thought Trixie—a handsome man, still quite young, well known in his profession, well off, she supposed, able to give his wife the comforts of life. All he wanted was to work and write his book. He said to surprise her, ‘I should like to fall in love—it is a long time ago since I did that and now my life is so full and perhaps I am too old.’
‘Pooh,’ said Trixie. ‘Age hasn’t anything to do with it. Get that book written and then you’ll have time to look around you.’
He did glance at her then, although she couldn’t read the look in his eyes beneath their dropping lids. ‘But I shall be married to you.’
‘Ah, yes—but not—not… that is, divorce is very easy these days.’
He took her hands in his. ‘You do understand, don’t you? My work is so very important to me and it has been so for years. So will you marry me, Beatrice?’
‘Yes. I think it might be a good idea. I’m not likely to get asked by anyone else. I like you and I feel easy with you, although I don’t know you at all, do I? I will really try to be the sort of wife you want.’
‘I’m a selfish man…’
‘No. You are driven by your urge to do something you feel you must—like Scott going to the Pole or Hilary climbing Everest.’ She smiled at him. ‘I’ll guard you like a dragon.’
‘I believe you will.’ He flung a great arm around her shoulders and felt her shiver in the wind. ‘You’re cold—how thoughtless of me. We’ll go back. We can stop for tea at Lawshall; there’s a pleasant hotel there.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘I need to be back at Timothy’s by seven o’clock—I’m admitting a woman with exophthalmos, a most interesting case, and I want to make sure that the special treatment is started immediately. I dare say you haven’t come across a case—it is a question of controlling the hyperthyroidism…’
They had begun to walk back and they were going up the path to where the car had been parked before the finer points of the condition had been explained. The professor stopped so suddenly that Trixie almost overbalanced. ‘Oh, my dear Beatrice, I had quite lost myself, do forgive me, I tend to forget…’
It was at that moment, looking up into his concerned face, that Trixie fell in love with him.
The knowledge rendered her speechless but only for a moment, for at the same moment she had realised that this was something which was going to happen time and again and she would have to get used to it. She said calmly, ‘I found it most interesting and you don’t need to apologise, now or ever. The poor woman—I do so hope you’ll be able to cure her.’
They had reached the car and were leaning against its elegant bonnet.
‘I shall do what I can; if the Diotroxin and the radiotherapy fail to halt it, then it will have to be tarsorrhaphy. I will explain about that…’
He was lost again, deep in the subject nearest his heart, and Trixie, getting colder by the minute in the now chilly wind, listened willingly because she liked the sound of his deep voice and he was treating her as someone in whom he could confide. When, at length, he paused, she said warmly, ‘Oh, I do expect you must be anxious to get back to Timothy’s and get started on her.’
He opened the car door and ushered her in, and she at once sank thankfully into the comfort of the soft leather. As he got in beside her she said, ‘We won’t stop for tea if you want to get back.’
He patted her knee in an impersonal manner and sent electric shocks all over her. ‘No, no, there’s time enough. We shall be back well before seven o’clock; that should give you time to tidy yourself while I’m on the ward. I’ll get someone to ring the nurses’ home when I’m ready and we can meet in the hall.’
She turned her head to look at his calm profile. ‘Meet you? In the hall? Why?’
‘I told Mies to have dinner ready for half-past eight…’
‘Who’s Mies?’
‘My housekeeper. I’ve a small house near Harley Street; when I’m over here I have the use of some consulting-rooms there.’ He slowed the car. ‘Here we are at Lawshall.’
The hotel was small, comfortable and welcoming. They ate crumpets swimming in butter and rich fruit cake and drank the contents of the teapot between them, and the professor didn’t mention the endocrine glands once. He talked pleasantly about a great many things, but he didn’t mention their own situation either and Trixie, bursting with unspoken little questions, made all the right kind of remarks and thought about how much she loved him.
They drove on again presently, to reach the hospital with ten minutes to spare. The professor saw her out of the car and walked with her to the entrance. ‘I’ll wait here,’ he told her. ‘I expect to be about an hour.’
He
