intended…’ Under that dark gaze she faltered again. She said slowly, because she felt compelled to, ‘I should like that very much, Mr van Borsele.’ She added hastily, ‘To go home, I mean.’ She wondered why he grinned suddenly. ‘Shall I meet you here, and at what time?’
‘Haven’t you forgotten your cats? I’ll pick you up—half past six at your flat, and mind you are ready.’
He nodded his goodbye and had gone before she could frame so much as a single word.
She told Enoch and Toots when she got home and, mindful that she might get away late on Friday afternoon, put her overnight things in a bag and decided what she would wear; before she went to work in the morning she would put her clothes ready. Mr van Borsele might have offered her a lift, but he was quite capable of going without her if she kept him waiting for 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.
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