Heaven Around the Corner

And this time when Louisa got to the hotel, it was to find her future patient reclining on a chaiselongue and rather more chatty than previously. ‘Uniform,’ she observed, after a brief greeting. ‘You don’t need to travel in one, of course, but you’d better have some with you. Dark blue, I think, and a cap, of course. Go to Harrods and charge it to my account.’

‘Will you want me to wear them all the time?’

‘Heavens, no—you’ll get your free time like anyone else. Besides, I shall be going out quite a bit and I shan’t want you around.’

Louisa blinked. ‘I think I should like to see your doctor before we go.’

Miss Savage shrugged. ‘If you must. He’s a busy man—you’d better telephone him. I’ll give you his number.’ She yawned. ‘Take a taxi and come here for me—a friend will drive us to Heathrow. Be here by ten o’clock.’ She frowned. ‘I can’t think of anything else. I shall call you by your christian name—what is it? You did tell me, but I’ve forgotten.’

‘Louisa, Miss Savage.’

‘Old-fashioned, but so are you. OK, that’s settled, then. I’ll see you here in ten days’ time.’

Louisa got to her feet. She had been going to ask about clothes; after all, Norway would be colder than London, or so she supposed, but somehow Miss Savage didn’t seem to be the right person to ask. Louisa said goodbye in her composed manner and went back on duty. After her patients on the ward, with their diagnoses clearly written down and an exact treatment besides, she found Miss Savage baffling. Her doctor would remedy that, however.

But here she was disappointed. Miss Savage’s treatment was to be negligible—rest, fresh air, early nights, good food. ‘Miss Savage is on Vitamin B, of course, and I shall supply her with nicotinic acid as well. I’ve already referred her case to a Norwegian colleague who will give you any information you may wish to know. You, of course, realise that she suffers from dyspepsia and a variety of symptoms which will be treated as they arise.’

Louisa listened to the impersonal voice and when it had finished, asked: ‘Exercise, sir?’

‘Let our patient decide that, Nurse. I’m sure you understand that she’ll have days when she’s full of energy—just make sure that she doesn’t tax her strength.’

‘And notes of the case?’ persisted Louisa.

‘They’ll be sent to her doctor in Bergen.’

She put down the receiver. Miss Savage was a private patient, which might account for the rather guarded statements she had just listened to. Certainly, from her somewhat limited experience of similar cases on the wards, the treatment was very much the same, and unlike the patients in hospital, the patient would probably have more say in the matter of exercise and food. As far as Louisa could see, she was going along to keep an eye on Miss Savage, and not much else. But at least it would get her away from Frank.

The thought was so delightful that she embarked on a shopping spree which left her considerably poorer but possessed of several outfits which, while not absolutely in the forefront of fashion, did a great deal for her ego. She went home once more and because it was the last time for a long while, endured her stepmother’s ill-humour and Frank’s overbearing manner. There was less than a week to go now and she was getting excited. It was a good thing that the ward was busy so that she had little time to think about anything much except her work, and her off duty was spent in careful packing and a great number of parties given as farewell gestures by her friends.

She wrote to her stepmother the evening before she left and posted it just before she got into the taxi, with such of her friends as could be missed from their wards crowding round wishing her luck. Once the hospital was out of sight she sat back, momentarily utterly appalled at what she was doing, but only for a brief minute or so. She was already savouring the heady taste of freedom.

She was punctual to the minute, but Miss Savage wasn’t. Louisa, gathering together the bottles and lotions and stowing them tidily in an elegant beauty box, hoped they wouldn’t miss the plane. But a telephone call from reception galvanised her patient into sudden energy and within minutes there was a knock on the door and three people came in—a young woman, as elegant as Miss Savage, and two men. They rushed to embrace Miss Savage, talking loudly and laughing a great deal, ignoring Louisa and then sweeping the entire party, complete with bellboys, luggage and an enormous bouquet of flowers, downstairs. Louisa felt that she had lost touch, at least for the moment. Once they were on the plane she would get Miss Savage to rest—a light meal perhaps and a nap…

No one spoke to her and they all piled into an enormous Cadillac and roared off towards Heathrow. She sat in the back of the car, with the young woman beside her and one of the men. Miss Savage sat beside the driver, and for someone with a liver complaint who was supposed to take life easy, behaved in a wild and excitable manner, but Louisa realised that it would be useless to remonstrate with her. She was bubbling over with energy, and the man who was driving was encouraging her.

At Heathrow they got out, and to Louisa’s horror, they all booked in for the flight. One of the men must have noticed the look on her face, because he patted her on the shoulder. ‘Not to worry, Nurse—we’re only taking Claudia to Bergen. Once she’s there, she’s all yours.’

And a good thing too, thought Louisa, watching the gin and tonics Miss Savage was downing once they were in flight. They were travelling first class and the plane was barely half full, which was perhaps a good thing considering the noise she and her friends were making. They had gone quietly enough through Customs. They had arrived with only a few minutes to spare and there had been no time for chat, but once on board they had relaxed. They might have been in their own homes, so little did they notice their surroundings. To Louisa, tired and apprehensive, the flight seemed endless. She heaved a sigh of relief when the plane began its descent and through a gap in the clouds she saw the wooded islands and the sea below, and then a glimpse of distant snow-capped mountains. Just for a moment she forgot her patient and her problems, and thrilled with excitement. Here was a new world, and only time would reveal all its possibilities.

CHAPTER TWO

BERGEN AIRPORT was small compared with Heathrow. It took only minutes for them to clear Customs, summon two taxis and start the drive to Bergen. Louisa, sitting in the second car with the elder of the two men, hardly noticed him, there was such a lot to see. The country was wooded and very beautiful and the road wound between trees already glowing with autumn colour. She had been surprised to see on a signpost that Bergen was twelve miles away to the north; somehow she had expected to plunge straight into the town’s suburbs. Presently they came to a village and then another, and then after twenty minutes or so, the outskirts of Bergen. Louisa was a little disappointed, for the busy road they were now on seemed very like any other busy road anywhere in England, but only for a moment. Suddenly they were in the centre of the town, skirting a small square park surrounded by busy streets. Her companion waved a vague hand at the window. ‘Nice little tea room there,’ he volunteered, ‘very handy for the shops—Claudia’s got a flat near the theatre.’

Which, while interesting, meant nothing to Louisa.

They turned off a shopping street presently and came upon another small park set in the centre of a square of tall houses, and at its head, the theatre. The taxis stopped half way along one side and they all got out. Miss Savage’s flat was on the first floor of a solid house in the middle of a terrace of similar houses, a handsome apartment, well furnished in the modern Scandinavian style, with its own front door in the lobby on the ground floor. A pleasant-looking young woman had opened the door to them and shown them up the short flight of stairs and disappeared down a passage, to reappear presently with a tea tray. Louisa, bidden to pour tea for everyone, did so, and then at Miss Savage’s casual: ‘Have a cup yourself, Louisa, then perhaps you’d unpack? There’s a maid somewhere, see if you can find her,’ went to do as she was bid.

The flat was larger than she had supposed. She had opened doors on to three bedrooms, a bathroom and a cupboard before she came to the kitchen. There was another girl here, young and pretty and, thank heaven, speaking English.

‘Eva,’ she said as they shook hands. ‘I come each day from eight o’clock until seven o’clock in the evening. In the afternoon I go for two hours to my home.’ She smiled widely. ‘You would like coffee?’

Louisa hadn’t enjoyed the tea very much. ‘I’d love a cup, but I was going to unpack.’

‘Then first I show you your rooms and then the coffee. You are the nurse, I think?’

‘That’s right.’ Louisa followed her back down the passage; first her own room, light and airy, well furnished too, with a shower room leading from it, and then her patient’s, much larger, with a bathroom attached and a balcony looking out over the square. Louisa, fortified by the coffee and five minutes’ chat with Eva, went back there presently and started to unpack. It took quite a time, for Miss Savage had brought a large wardrobe with her; for an invalid she appeared to expect a good deal of social life. Louisa arranged the last scent bottle on the dressing table, arranged the quilted dressing gown invitingly on the bed, and went in search of her patient.

The tea party was still in full swing, only now a tray of drinks had taken the place of the tea and Miss Savage’s pale face was flushed. Before Louisa could say anything, one of the men called out: ‘All right, nurse, we’re just off—got a plane to catch. Look after our Claudia, won’t you?’ He winked broadly: ‘Keep her on the straight and narrow!’

Their goodbyes took another five minutes and when they had gone the room was quiet again. Quiet until Miss Savage burst into tears, storming up and down the room, muttering to herself, even waving her arms around. All the same, she managed to look as pretty as ever, like a little girl who couldn’t get her own way. Louisa’s kind heart melted at the sight of her; with a little difficulty she urged her patient to sit down and then sat beside her. ‘You’re tired,’ she said in her quiet, sensible voice. ‘It’s been a long day, and it’s not over yet. Suppose you have a nap for an hour and Eva and I will get a meal ready for you. You haven’t eaten much, have you?’

‘I want to go home,’ mumbled Miss Savage, and buried her head against Louisa’s shoulder.

‘Then why don’t you? We can pack up in no time at all and after you’ve had a good night’s rest we can get a flight back…’

‘Fool!’ declared Miss Savage. ‘Do you really suppose I wanted to come? To leave my friends and all the fun…’

Louisa, who hadn’t taken offence at being called a fool, quite understanding that her companion was suffering strong feelings about something or other, had asked merely: ‘Then why did you come, Miss Savage?’

‘He made me, of course. I have to live, don’t I, and if he stops my allowance what am I to do?’

‘Who’s he?’ enquired Louisa gently. ‘You don’t have to tell me, only it might make it easier if you did—perhaps we can think of something.’

‘My beastly brother. I detest him—he’s mean and high-handed and he made me come here so that he can make sure that I don’t spend too much money—and don’t have my friends.’

‘Very unreasonable,’ commented Louisa. ‘And what about me? I cost money, don’t I?’

‘Oh, he pays for you—it was one of the conditions…’ Miss Savage paused and rearranged her words. ‘The doctor said I had to have someone to look after me…’

‘I should think so indeed!’ declared Louisa indignantly. She still didn’t like Miss Savage overmuch, but probably her way of life was the result of having a despot of a brother who bullied her. ‘Does your brother know you came here today?’

Miss Savage nodded. ‘Yes—but you needn’t worry, he won’t come here. He’s miles away—the last I heard of him he was north of Tromso, that’s on the way to the North Pole—well, it’s a long way beyond the Arctic Circle.’

Louisa produced a handkerchief and wiped Miss Savage’s face for her. ‘I can’t quite see why you had to come to Norway. If your brother wanted you to lead a quieter life, couldn’t you have gone to live for a time in the country in England? It would have been much cheaper.’

She couldn’t see her patient’s face so she didn’t see the cunning look upon it. Miss Savage sounded quite convincing when she said: ‘But my friends would still come and see me!’

‘You’ll make friends here,’ declared Louisa. ‘I thought the town looked delightful, didn’t you? In a few days, when you’ve rested, we’ll explore. There are bound to be English people living here.’

Miss Savage sat up. She said: ‘You’re much nicer than I thought you were. I daresay we’ll have quite a good time here. You will help me, won’t you? I mean, if I make friends and go out sometimes?’

Louisa answered her cautiously: ‘Yes, of course, but you have to rest, you know, but I don’t see why we shouldn’t work out some sort of a routine so that you can enjoy yourself. No late nights, at least until the doctor says so, and take your pills without fail and eat properly and rest—that’s important.’

‘It all sounds utterly dreary,’ Miss Savage smiled charmingly at her, ‘but I’ll be good, really I will.’

Suiting the action to the word, she went to her room, took off her dress and allowed Louisa to tuck her up under the duvet.

Louisa unpacked, consulted with Eva about their evening meal and then, for lack of anything else to do for the moment, went to sit by the sitting room window. There were people in the street below, hurrying home from work, she supposed, taking a short cut across the little park and disappearing round the corner of the theatre at the far end. The sky was clear, but there was a brisk little wind blowing the leaves around and she wondered what it would be like when autumn gave way to winter. From what she had seen of the town she was sure she was going to like it. She hoped she had brought enough warm clothing with her: Miss Savage’s luggage had contained thick woollies and a couple of anoraks and fur-lined boots, and there was a mink coat which one of the men had carried for her… Her thoughts were interrupted by the telephone and she went to answer it quickly before it disturbed her patient. A man’s voice, slow and deep, asking something or other.

‘I’m sorry, I don’t understand you…’

‘You are the nurse?’

‘I’m Miss Savage’s nurse, yes.’

‘I should like to speak to her. Her brother.’

‘She’s resting—we only arrived an hour or so ago. Perhaps you’ll ring tomorrow.’ Louisa’s voice was cool, but not nearly as cold as the man on the other end of the line.

‘I shall ring when it is convenient to me,’ he said, and hung up on her, leaving her annoyed and quite sure that he was just about the nastiest type she had ever encountered. Why, even Frank seemed better!

She told Miss Savage later, when that lady, remarkably revived by her nap, joined her in the sitting room.

‘And that’s the last I’ll hear from him—obviously he’s no intention of coming to see me.’ She sounded delighted. ‘If he rings again, Louisa, you’re to say that I’m shopping or asleep or something. I’m hungry, have you arranged something or shall I go out?’

‘Eva has cooked a meal for us; it’s all ready being kept hot. Eva goes in a few minutes.’

‘What a bore! Oh, well, you’ll have to do the chores.’

It hardly seemed the time to point out that she was a nurse, not a maid; Louisa prudently held her tongue and went to tell Eva that she could dish up.

Miss Savage’s vivacity lasted for the whole of the meal, although her appetite, after a few mouthfuls of the excellently cooked cod, disappeared entirely—indeed, presently she got up from the table, leaving Louisa, who was famished, to hurry through her meal, which seemed a shame, for the pudding was good, too, and the coffee following it excellent. At least Miss Savage accepted coffee, lying back on the big sofa facing the window, looking suddenly as though she’d been on her feet for days and hadn’t slept a wink.

‘Bed,’ said Louisa firmly, ‘a warm bath first—do you take sleeping pills? The doctor didn’t mention them…’

‘There are some in my bag, but I don’t think I’ll need them tonight.’ Miss Savage yawned widely, showing beautiful teeth. ‘I’ll have breakfast in bed—coffee and toast, and don’t disturb me until ten o’clock.’

Later, with her patient in bed and presumably sleeping, Louisa cleared away their supper things, tidied the kitchen ready for Eva in the morning and went back to the window. It was very dark outside, but the streets were well lighted and there were plenty of people about and a good deal of traffic. The pleasant thought struck her that if Miss Savage wasn’t to be disturbed until ten o’clock each morning, she would have time to take a quick look round after her own breakfast. She could be up and dressed by eight o’clock and Eva would be in the flat then, so that if Miss Savage wanted anything there would be someone there. She didn’t know much about private nursing, but it seemed to her that this case wasn’t quite as usual; only the vaguest references had been made to off duty, for instance, and what about her free days? She should have made quite sure of those, but she had been so eager to get the job, and although it might not turn out to be exactly what she had expected at least she was out of England, beyond her stepmother’s reach, and moreover, in a country which, at first sight, looked delightful.

She went to bed and slept dreamlessly all night.

She was up and ready for Eva when she arrived, and since Miss Savage hadn’t said anything more about uniform, she had put on a pleated skirt and a thin sweater.

Eva was surprised to see her already dressed, but she wasted no time in making coffee and unwrapping the still warm rolls she had brought with her. She shared Louisa’s coffee too, sitting at the kitchen table while she told Louisa where the shops were and how to go to them. It wasn’t nine o’clock when Louisa, a quilted jacket over the sweater and a woolly cap and gloves, left the flat; there would be time to explore and perhaps she could persuade Miss Savage to go for a short walk once she was up. She crossed the little park as Eva had instructed her and turned into Ole Bull Pass and then into the main shopping street, Torgalmenning, where the shops were already open, although there weren’t many people about.

Louisa walked briskly down its length, intent on reaching the harbour Eva said she simply had to see, promising herself that the next time she would stop and look in all the shop windows. It didn’t take her long; there was the harbour, bustling with life, ferries chugging to and fro, freighters tied up in the distance. It was overlooked on two sides by rows of ancient houses, many of them wooden and all of them beautifully cared for and most of them converted into shops. She walked a little way beside the water, looking across to the mountains in the distance and then nearer to the neat colourful houses clinging to the skirts of the mountains behind the town. There was a fish market too, but she didn’t dare to stop to inspect it for more than a minute or two; quite a different matter from the fish shops at home, and she had never seen such a variety. She paused for another minute to stare across the water at a castle—she would have to find out about that, too… She had no more time; she retraced her steps, aware that there must be another way back to the flat, probably shorter—tomorrow she would discover it.

She had time to change into her uniform when she got back; there was more chance of Miss Savage doing as she was asked if she was reminded that Louisa was a nurse.

At exactly ten o’clock, Louisa tapped on the door and went in, put the tea tray down by the bed and drew the curtains. Miss Savage wakened slowly, looking very pretty but just as listless as the previous evening. She sat up slowly without answering Louisa’s cheerful good morning, merely: ‘What a hideous uniform—it doesn’t do anything for you at all, but I suppose you’d better wear it—that doctor’s coming this morning.’

‘Then you’d better stay in bed when you’ve had your breakfast,’ said Louisa cheerfully, ignoring the bit about the uniform. ‘He’ll want to examine you, I expect.’

Miss Savage yawned. ‘I don’t want any breakfast.’

‘Coffee? Rolls and butter and black cherry jam?’ invited Louisa. ‘I’ll bring it anyway.’

‘Not for ten minutes.’

It was amazing what those ten minutes did for her patient. Miss Savage was leaning back against her pillows, looking quite different, positively sparkling. What was more, she drank her coffee, ate a bit of roll and then went to have her bath without any fuss at all. Louisa made the bed and tidied the room and had Miss Savage back in it seconds before the door bell rang.

Doctor Hopland was elderly, portly and instantly likeable. His English was almost accentless and he appeared to be in no hurry. He listened to Louisa’s rather scant information about her patient, nodded his head in a thoughtful way and observed that beyond keeping an eye on Miss Savage he thought there was little he could do. ‘I have had notes of the case,’ he told Louisa. ‘Unhappily there are many such these days and you will understand that there is not a great deal to be done. Miss Savage is co-operative?’

It was hard to give an answer to that. Louisa said slowly: ‘On the whole, yes, but she does like her own way…’

‘I understand. Well, nurse, all you can do is to persuade her to eat good wholesome food and rest whenever she is tired, and as well as that get her into the fresh air. She is in bed, I take it?’

‘I thought you might like to examine her, doctor.’

‘Certainly. Shall we do that now?’

Miss Savage submitted very nicely to Doctor Hopland’s services, in fact she was so meek that Louisa was astonished, but not nearly as astonished as she was an hour later, when Miss Savage, whom she had left reading a book in bed, came into the sitting room and declared that she was going out to see something of Bergen.

So they spent an hour or two looking at the shops and Miss Savage bought several expensive trifles and an armful of books which Louisa was given to carry. ‘And how about a bottle of sherry in case anyone calls?’ asked Miss Savage gaily. ‘And don’t frown like that, Louisa, I know I mustn’t drink it. I wonder where we buy it?’

They couldn’t see a drink shop and, on reflection, Louisa couldn’t remember having passed one, so she went into the bookshop they had just left and asked one of the assistants.

‘The nearest one is on the other side of Torget, quite a walk away, and there are quite a lot of restrictions—you can only buy drinks at certain hours.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘They’re closed now and don’t open until this evening.’

Miss Savage’s voice was high and peevish. ‘I never heard such nonsense—you must get it then, I suppose.’

‘Is it so urgent?’ asked Louisa. ‘I mean, do you know anyone here who’s likely to come to see you?’

They were walking back to the flat. ‘That’s beside the point and no business of yours,’ said Miss Savage nastily. The charming mood of the morning had quite gone, as Louisa expected, and she had a difficult afternoon and an even worse evening, with her patient lolling on the sofa, refusing meals and playing the tape recorder far too loudly. It was a relief when she was told to go and buy the sherry.

She didn’t hurry. It was good to get away from the flat; besides, she was hungry, for she hadn’t been given the time to eat her own meal at midday and when tea came, Miss Savage had demanded this and that so that by the time it had been poured out, it was tepid. So now Louisa whipped into a snack bar, had a coffee and a large satisfying bun, and feeling much better, walked on down to the harbour, along Torget, with its mediaeval houses lining the pavement, and then turned up the side street whose name she had carefully written down, and found the off-licence.