to do in preparation for her exams.’ Her two listeners expected her to add a rider to the effect that if it hadn’t been for her, there would have been no possibility of exams, but she contented herself with a smug smile.
So Lavinia went back after tea, not liking to leave Peta, but seeing no alternative, but at least she was heartened to see how much more cheerful her sister was. They parted under their aunt’s eye, so that all Lavinia could say was: ‘See you next week, Peta—if I may come down, Aunt?’ she added politely, and received a gracious nod of assent.
There was a letter for her on Monday morning, asking her to go for an interview, either that afternoon or on the following morning, and as luck would have it she had been given a split duty because Sister wanted the evening, and the morning’s list was too heavy for them both to be off duty at the same time. She changed into a plain coffee-coloured linen dress, coiled her long hair with care, made up her face, and caught a bus; only as she was going through the open door of the hotel where the interviews were to be held did she pause to think what she was doing, and by then it was too late. There were a dozen or more girls waiting, some of them younger than she, and most of them prettier; there was a possibility of her not getting a job after all; she hadn’t expected quite so many applicants.
She was brooding over this when her turn came, and she found herself on the other side of the door, invited to sit down by a middle-aged lady sitting at a table, and stared at by the two people on either side of her. A man, a large comfortable-looking man in his fifties, and another woman, young this time—not much older than herself and very fair with a wholesome out-of-doors look about her.
The lady in the middle opened the interview with a pleasant: ‘Miss Hawkins? We are pleased that you could come and see us. My name is Platsma—Mevrouw Platsma, and this is Juffrouw Smid and also Professor van Leek, who is the Medical Director of our hospital in Amsterdam. Miss Smid is the Sister-in-Charge of the theatre unit.’ She paused to smile. ‘What are your qualifications, Miss Hawkins?’
Lavinia gave them without trying to make more of them than they were.
‘And your reasons for wishing to work with us?’
She told them the truth, fined down to the facts and without enlarging upon Aunt Gwyneth. ‘I think I could live on the salary you offer and have my sister to live with me, something we both would like very much—I can’t do that here because I can’t afford a flat—I live in at Jerrold’s. I should like to live in Amsterdam too; I’ve never been out of England.’
‘You like your work?’
‘Very much.’
‘You are accustomed to scrub?’
‘Yes. There are four theatres in our unit, I work in General Surgery and take most of the cases when Sister is off duty.’
‘You have no objection to us referring to your superiors at the hospital?’
‘No, none at all. If I should be considered for the job, I should have to give a month’s notice.’
They all three smiled at her and Mevrouw Platsma said: ‘Thank you, Miss Hawkins, we will let you know at the earliest opportunity.’
She went back to Jerrold’s feeling uncertain; her qualifications were good, she would be given excellent references she felt sure, but then so might the other girls who had been there. She told herself sensibly to forget about it, something easily done, as it turned out, for there was an emergency perforation that evening, followed by a ruptured appendix. She went off duty too tired to do more than eat a sketchy supper, have a bath, and go to bed.
There was a letter by the first post in the morning. She had got the job. She did an excited little jig in the scrubbing-up room, begged permission to go to the office at once, and presented herself, rather breathless still, before the Principal Nursing Officer’s desk.
Miss Mint heard her out, expressed regret that she should want to leave, but added in the same breath that it was a splendid thing to broaden one’s mind when young and that should Lavinia wish to return to Jerrold’s at some future date, she could be sure of a post—if there was one vacant—at any time. She finished this encouraging speech by observing that probably she had some holidays due to her, in which case she should be able to leave sooner.
Lavinia becamed at her. ‘Oh, Miss Mint, I have—a week. I knew you would understand about me wanting to go somewhere where I could have Peta with me…I only hope I’ll make a success of it.’
Miss Mint smiled. ‘I can think of no reason why you shouldn’t,’ she said encouragingly. ‘Come and see me before you go, Staff Nurse. I shall of course supply references when they are required.’
Lavinia went through the rest of the day in a daze, doing her work with her usual efficiency while she thought about her new job. She spent a good deal of her lunch hour writing to accept the post, and only restrained herself by a great effort from writing to Peta too, but there was always the danger that their aunt would read the letter, and telephoning would be just as chancy; she should have thought of that sooner and arranged for her sister to telephone her on her way home from school. Now the news would have to wait until she paid her weekly visit on Saturday.
The days flashed by; she received particulars of her job, how she was to travel, and the day on which she was expected, as well as the gratifying news that her references were entirely satisfactory. She had a few pounds saved; the temptation to spend some of them on new clothes was very strong, so on her morning off she went along to Oxford Street.
It was a splendid day and the gay summer clothes in the shop windows exactly matched her mood; discarding all sensible ideas about practical rainwear, hard-wearing shoes and colours which wouldn’t show the dirt, she plunged recklessly, returning to the Nurses’ Home laden with parcels; new sandals—pretty pink ones to match the pink cotton dress and jacket she hadn’t been able to resist, a pale green linen skirt with a darling little linen blouse to go with it, and as well as these, a long cardigan which happily matched them both. There was a dress too, pale green silk jersey, and as a sop to her conscience, a raincoat, coffee-coloured and lightweight. She laid everything out on her bed and admired them and tried not to think of all the money she had spent, cheering herself with the thought that she still had something tucked away and enough besides to get her through the first month in Amsterdam before she would be paid. And when Peta joined her, she would buy her some pretty dresses too; Aunt Gwyneth’s ideas ran to the serviceable and dull for her niece; the two of them would scour Amsterdam for the sort of clothes girls of Peta’s age liked to wear.
Her sister was waiting for her when she got to Cuckfield on Saturday morning and so was their aunt. There was no chance to talk at all until after lunch, and then only for a few minutes while Aunt Gwyneth was telephoning. ‘It’s OK,’ said Lavinia softly. ‘I’ve got the job—I’m going two weeks today. I’ll tell Aunt when I come next week, but only that I’m going—nothing about you yet—and don’t say anything, love, whatever you do.’ She smiled at Peta. ‘Try not to look so happy, darling. Tell me about your exams—do you think you did well?’
She didn’t stay as long as usual; her aunt had a bridge date directly after tea and was anxious for her to be gone, and a tentative suggestion that she might take Peta out for the evening was met with a number of perfectly feasible reasons why she shouldn’t. That was the trouble with Aunt Gwyneth, thought Lavinia crossly, she never flatly refused anything, which made it very hard to argue with her. She wondered, as she went back to London, how her aunt would take the news of her new job.
She thought about it several times during the ensuing week, but theatre was busy and there really wasn’t
