Nurse Kelsey Abroad Page 14

  There was no time for further discourse. They could hear feet approaching the door, and a moment later it was opened by an elderly woman who beamed on Dr. Lowth with approving welcome, a beam which was extended to Jane the moment, speaking completely in Dalasalavian, Jim performed the introductions. In a quiet tone he added to Jane: “This is Brietta, Nimtvitch’s housekeeper and friend.”

  They were shown into a long, low room with a huge concert grand piano at the far end, two violin stands and several pieces of what Jane recognised as being extremely valuable antique furniture. From a deep chair beside one of the two huge log fires which roared, one at either end of the room, in the stone grates, an elderly man, clad in a dressing-gown and soft slippers, rose to greet them. He was tall but stooped, and very thin, and his leonine head was crowned with an absolute bush of white, wavy hair.

  Although Jim had told her Alexis Nimtvitch spoke several languages, English amongst them, Jane felt a sense of shock when he addressed her in perfect English, saying he had heard, via his housekeeper, of how highly thought of she was in Seonyata and how greatly a person like herself would be of help to his beloved country.

  He made them more than welcome, seating them beside the blazing fire and pulling on the hanging bell-rope for Brietta to bring refreshment. Gently Jim explained that they had already enjoyed a more than satisfactory supper at the Brentlovs’ house, and although the old man was obviously disappointed they were not to, as he put it, share his humble repast, he insisted that they had a drink of some of Brietta’s home-made wine and ate one or two of her special pastries.

  They could not refuse without offending him, and Jane, although she was not hungry, made herself eat the delicious little cakes and drink the very pleasant wine. Nimtvitch himself made his supper of a bowl of milk with what she strongly suspected to be pieces of the dark-floured bread which was usual in Seonyata, and concluded his repast by joining them in a glass of wine and one small pastry.

  Jim had enquired about the progress of the new treatment he had recommended for the old man’s rheumatism, but, as Jane well knew, even at home there was still much work to be done before anything even resembling a hope of a cure could be effected. However, it seemed that the new tablets Jim had sent to him, the heat treatment he had ordered as well as the fact that Brietta had seen to it her master complied strictly within the rules of the diet the doctor had worked out for him, had afforded some relief.

  “I shall now play for you, if you can still bear to listen, my friend,” his eyes twinkled as he spoke directly to Jim. “You will then see there is greater flexibility in my fingers than there was the last time you honoured my house with your presence.”

  Jane did not know quite what to expect. She had not much knowledge of classical music and quite expected to find herself not bored, exactly, but somewhat at sea where appreciation and understanding were concerned. To her surprised delight, from the moment the first liquid notes of music began, she was completely enthralled, and it required no extra concentration to sit perfectly still and let the music enter her heart and mind.

  If there were errors in Nimtvitch’s performance, Jane did not know enough about music to detect them. To her the performance was wholly delightful, and as he obviously concluded his impromptu recital and laid his instrument aside, she burst into an unexpected round of applause, almost as surprising to herself as it was to Jim and the artist.

  Nimtvitch smiled, delightedly, and bowed in her direction, breaking suddenly into a spate of Dalasalavian which was too rapid for her to follow, but which it was evident Jim understood perfectly well. Shortly afterwards they took their leave, promising faithfully to visit the elderly musician again before very long. When they had successfully negotiated the bumpy track and were once more on what was classed as the main road, Jim turned to Jane, smiling broadly.

  “You’ve won his heart for ever!” he told her. “I am so glad you enjoyed his performance ... it wasn’t as good as when I first came here, but he’d still win acclaim in any city in the world.”

  “I think He’s wonderful,” Jane said, and meant it, and found herself blushing violently, so that she was glad of the covering dark, when Jim said quietly: “Exactly Alexis’ opinion of yourself, my dear! You made a conquest, even before you applauded. Now you’ve completely won his heart.”

  They drove the remainder of the way back to St. George’s without further words. For some reason Jane felt supremely contented and sat quietly by Jim’s side until he stopped the car at the entrance to the block where she lived.

  In the faint light from the dashboard they looked at one another, sitting silently side by side. For one wild moment Jane wished with all her heart that he would lean across and kiss her, but instead he asked very casually: “Did you really enjoy the evening, Jane? All of it?”

  She felt like a child who had rushed up to someone to be hugged and then set gently on one side, but she rallied immediately and nodded, her eyes shining.

  “Very much,” she said truthfully. “Thank you for taking me—I haven’t enjoyed anything so much for years ... not even before I came to St. George’s.”

  “Then I’m satisfied,” Jim said quietly. “We must make this a regular event, Jane, you and I. We’ll appoint ourselves one free evening each week, depending, of course, on what cases we have in and whether or not there’s any emergency on hand. How would you like that?” he queried.

  “I’d love it,” Jane said, feeling herself keyed up with all she had to offer and which he appeared to choose to ignore. “I’ll look forward to the next time.”

  “And I,” Jim told her, leaning across and opening the car door. “See you in the morning, then. Goodnight.” Jane echoed his “goodnight” and ran up the stairs to the door of her own flat. Her heart was pounding madly, but it was not because she had taken the flight of stairs in one run. It was, she knew, because she had been so very conscious of his nearness, of his dearness, and of the longing to be someone more important in his eyes than Staff Nurse Jane Kelsey.

  Her face flamed as she realised how desperately she had longed for him to kiss her, how greatly she had yearned for the feel of his arms about her, holding her close.

  “I’ll have to get a grip on myself!” she admonished her reflection. “If he thought I ... love him,” her colour deepened even more as she made the admission to her mirrored self, “he wouldn’t want me with him ever again! It’s Dudley and myself in reverse. Now I know how he must have felt. I’m glad I was never unkind, even though I could never have loved him.”

  She sat on the edge of the bed to think over this wonderful thing which had happened to her. Even if he never loved her in return, she thought fiercely, that wouldn’t prevent her loving him until the day of her death ... and afterwards.

  She sat still, because she was still in that stage of being in love when the mere presence of the beloved seems sufficient. Only later, she had the sense to realise, would come the yearning, the longing, which might make life intolerable should he never see her as a woman he could love, but only as his staff nurse, always there!

  “I’ll cope with that when it happens!” she told herself, stirring from the mirror and laying out her night things in readiness for bed. “I think I may well stick it out for the two years ... and,” in spite of all reason the happy doubt reared its head, “who knows what may have happened by that time?”

  She was happily thinking all sorts of occasions and imaginary circumstances therein Jim would suddenly discover he could not live in Seonyata without her, or without her love—the images fought with one another as she tried to imagine which would be the happier state, for Jim to discover he loved her and wanted her to stay there with him, or for him to decide that Seonyata would never be the same when she had gone, and to leave with her—when someone tapped loudly and urgently on the flat’s door.

  Jane was not, by any means, an easily frightened person, but there had been no sound of footsteps approaching the door, and there was something so premonitory in the
urgent tapping that she felt a sudden chill of fear. Softly she crossed to the door and stood there, her hand on the knob.

  “Who’s there?” she demanded. “Who is it?”

  “Let me in, Jane! And hurry up!” Kevin’s voice sounded breathless, as though he had been running. Wondering what scrape he had managed to get himself into this time, Jane unfastened the bolt and held the door wide, taking a quick look out as she admitted him, but, for once, there was no sign of the elderly caretaker.

  “He’s gone for his cup of whatever evil brew he drinks,” Kevin forestalled her comments. “I made certain he wasn’t there before I ventured up! Listen, Jane, I need your help. There’s a lot of money in this—for us and for other people—and a certain amount of risk, but it’s all in a good cause. Put your kettle on, there’s a good girl, and I’ll tell you all about it!”

  “I’m not in the least certain I want to know,” Jane told him as she obediently set the kettle on the stove. “Between you and me and this kettle,” she banged down' the lid with a smart thump, “I think you’re spending too much time on things and events which are no concern of yours, and sooner or later you’ll land yourself—and St. Georg’s—in trouble with the authorities. We’re visitors here, remember...” she was continuing, but he was obviously determined not to listen.

  “You haven’t been here long enough to feel so patriotic,” he sneered, “or to feel you should spring to the defence of these short-sighted, limit-minded old men who won’t give the young people of this country any chance to develop along the lines they choose for themselves. Just brew up, there’s a good girl, and then sit down so’s I can whisper and not have to shout, while I tell you how you can help me and what’s to be done.”

  CHAPTER 7

  BY the time the tea was brewed and poured Kevin appeared to have recovered his breath, and a little of the self-possession she had come to associate with him. Mentally she corrected herself. What Kevin had was not self-possession, but arrogance. He was always far too certain what he was doing was right, and disregarding any advice from anyone whatsoever.

  “That was good!” He drained the cup in one long, thirsty draught and set it down on the table. “Will you give me a refill, please, Jane? I’ve had far too much of this country’s home-brew tonight, smoked too much and,” he grinned disarmingly, “talked too much, I’m afraid. But it’s all very exciting!”

  “I’m sure of that I” Jane commented dryly. “Just as I’m sure it’s something you ought not to be mixed up in, Kevin Dean, and I don’t care whether as a doctor here I should address you as ‘sir’ or not!” she said defiantly, thinking of Jim and of how disturbed he was by the younger man’s attitude to the country in which he had chosen to serve and his manner of conducting himself as a temporary citizen in that country.

  “You don’t—or won’t—understand!” Kevin spread his hands.' “At home we’ve been used to freedom in more or less everything we undertake. There are laws, restrictions, yes, but by and large we’re fairly free to please ourselves, say what we like, go where we please and with whom we please! Here, so many things are forbidden, so many restrictions abound, that one can scarcely call one’s soul one’s own!”

  “The people I’ve met,” Jane returned, “seem happy and satisfied. According to Dr. Jim the people are better off now, better fed, better housed, better cared for in every way—and that includes our being here—than at any other time in the history of their country. I haven’t met any who are as dissatisfied as you seem to think the whole populace either is or should be!” she went on, but he interrupted hastily.

  “That’s because you’ve mainly mixed with the older people,” Kevin said, half laughing at her. “You ought to come with me to the New Thought Club again and see for yourself what the younger, go-ahead people want and hope to do. Some of them would surprise even you, Jane. Two" of the young men I talked with last night in particular. They’ve worked abroad, they’ve worked all over Europe, and they want some of the things they’ve seen in their travels to be available for the people here, for their own people. Is that too much to ask?”

  “Not if they’re prepared to work for what they want,” Jane returned in a reasonable tone. “I don’t understand much more of the politics and policies of this place than you do, if as much, but I do know if they want these things they won’t get them out of the blue, like presents from a Christmas tree. What we’ve got at home,” she said with a wave of wistful nostalgia for some of the things she herself missed a great deal, “has been worked for and fought for, throughout hundreds of years.”

  “But it had to have a beginning somewhere,” Kevin countered swiftly, “both the working and the fighting. If it hadn’t we wouldn’t have all these things either, not yet.”

  Jane sighed. So many of Kevin’s arguments seemed logical enough when he put them to her, but broken down they didn’t appear to lead to a great deal of common sense. History had always been a favourite subject of hers at school, and, thinking back, she could well recall that the majority of reforms had been preceded by a somewhat stormy prelude.

  “The people here are working,” she tried again, intending, if possible, to prevent his telling her of whatever hare-brained scheme he had in mind this time. She did not want to know. She simply wanted him to go on his way, see the folly of mixing himself up in what did not concern him, and devote himself to the task for which he had been brought to Seonyata, the furthering of health and happiness amongst the populace.

  “If your friends would work for instead of against their government, I’m sure they’d help to bring about the results they all so evidently want a great deal more quickly!” she said, feeling she might be wrong to lecture when she understood so little. On the other hand Dr. Jim, both older and, she knew, wiser than Kevin, had said it was imprudent to upset those in authority, or the Embassy which had been responsible for St. George’s being there at all. And to Jane Dr. Jim’s word was law!

  “What is it this time?” she said as lightly as she could. “A bomb through the Embassy window, thrown, no doubt, by the young man who was obviously protesting so violently by means of the banging of his tankard the other evening? If ever I saw anyone deliberately inciting trouble, then that was the man!”

  “It’s nothing like that,” Kevin ignored the latter part of her sentence and took up her first words. “There’s no violence attached to this, just a little clever sneak-thieving, if you could call it that! I used to be pretty crafty at hide-and-seek and games of that nature when I was a kid. Any game where someone was ‘he’, I was seldom caught... and never found out,” he chuckled, “if it was supposed to be a secret who was behind whatever was taking place. I don’t think I’ve lost the art, even though I might be a bit rusty!”

  “But what is it?” Jane reiterated. “I’ll have to know, Kevin, now you’ve told me so much!”

  “It’s nothing, really,” he muttered. “You’ll say I’ve no right, but it means a small fortune for the New Thought Movement...”

  “What does?” Jane questioned inexorably.

  “If I get them the formula they want,” he muttered so quietly that Jane could scarcely hear, even though she strained to listen. It seemed once the two words had been spoken the flood-gates were opened in his mind. “One of the scientists up in the government laboratory has invented some new kind of weapon,” he said in a rush. “As you know, Dalasalavia isn’t allowed nuclear weapons as yet, and every country has to have some means of defence against hostile forces. This invention is a sort of ... not germ, but something which can be infiltrated into food. It doesn’t kill or maim, as the atom bombs and that sort of thing do. It doesn’t set up illnesses as the germ warfare would do. It helps make people ... happy, receptive, complacent.”

  “Docile, as sheep are supposed to be?” Jane flashed. “So that they become mindless, docile ... accepting anything?” she asked in horror. “You mean this is some sort of drug which saps the will-power ... a sort of glorified brain-wash en masse. Is that it?”


  “No,” Kevin said, so quickly and so violently Jane was sure he had been waiting for precisely that question. “It’s nothing like that!” he assured her. “It’s in case any stronger, larger power is likely to prove hostile, to threaten...”

  “But the nations of the world are working—or trying to work—on behalf of peace more than at any other time throughout history!” Jane protested. “And I still don’t get the point. What do you plan to do? Infiltrate all the foodstuffs and then impose the will of the New Thought Movement on the entire populace? I scarcely think that will improve the Movement’s popularity, once the effect of the drug’s worn off, or once another generation comes along which can think for itself ... unless,” the thought struck her forcibly, “your friends think the next generation will be born ready conditioned, as it were!”

  “That’s not the idea at all!” Kevin said indignantly. “I told you I didn’t understand much about it, but the fact of the matter, briefly, is this. Some of the New Thought members work at the laboratory, and somehow or other news of this new drug has leaked out. The...” he named a larger power, thousands of miles from the tiny capital of Dalasalavia, “have offered a large sum of money for the formula. They don’t need the drug; it’s just that ... well, there are tremendous possibilities, especially in persuading all nations to a peaceable outlook, once this drug was available. Professor Leczinska—he’s the one who discovered the drug and its effects—says he will destroy the formula once his experiments are completed. He says it would be morally wrong to take the will of the people—any people—in this way, and that he will not utilise his discovery. That, in my opinion, would be an even greater wrong! After all, one doesn’t make such a discovery and then keep it to oneself, or destroy it! One puts it to use.”