off you. You’re very kind to offer but I think I’d better not.’
‘I’m quite safe,’ said the professor mildly, ‘and since you didn’t know that I would be going to Braintree in the morning you could hardly be accused of cadging.’
‘Well, if you don’t mind—I would be grateful …’
‘Good.’ He smiled then and walked away and she, remembering the rest of the diet sheets, raced off to the men’s ward … It was only as she handed over the rest of the diet sheets to Miss Prescott that she remembered that he hadn’t asked her where she lived nor had he said at what time he would pick her up. So that’s that, reflected Theodosia, scarcely listening to Miss Prescott’s cross voice.
If she had hoped for a message from him during the day she was to be disappointed. Five o’clock came and half an hour later—for,of course, Miss Prescott always found something else for her to do just as she was leaving—Theodosia raced through the hospital, intent on getting home, and was brought up short by the head porter hailing her from his lodge in the entrance hall.
‘Message for you, miss. You’re to be ready by ten o’clock. You’ll be fetched from where you live.’
He peered at her over his spectacles. ‘That’s what Professor Bendinck said.’
Theodosia had slithered to a halt. ‘Oh, thank you, Bowden,’ she said, and added, ‘He’s giving me a lift.’
The head porter liked her. She was always cheerful and friendly. ‘And very nice too, miss,’ he said. ‘Better than them trains and buses.’
Theodosia, explaining to Gustavus that they would be travelling in comfort instead of by the public transport he so disliked, wondered what kind of car the professor would have.Something rather staid, suitable for his dignified calling, she supposed. She packed her overnight bag, washed her hair and polished her shoes. Her winter coat was by no means new but it had been good when she had bought it and she consoled herself with the thought that winter coats didn’t change their style too much. It would have to be the green jersey dress …
At ten o’clock the next morning she went down to the front door with Gustavus in his basket and her overnight bag over her shoulder. She would give him ten minutes, she had decided, and if he didn’t turn up she would get a bus to Liverpool Street Station.
He was on the doorstep, talking to Mrs Towzer, who had a head crammed with pink plastic curlers and a feather duster in one hand. When she saw Theodosia she said, ‘There you are, ducks; I was just telling your gentleman friend here that you was a good tenant. A real lady—don’t leave the landing lights on all night and leaves the bath clean …’
Theodosia tried to think of something clever to say. She would have been grateful if the floor had opened and swallowed her. She said, ‘Good morning, Mrs Towzer—Professor.’
‘Professor, are you?’ asked the irrepressible Mrs Towzer. ‘Well, I never …’
Theodosia had to admire the way he handled Mrs Towzer with a grave courtesy which left that lady preening herself and allowed him to stuff Theodosia into the car, put her bag in the boot, settle Gustavus on the back seat with a speed which took her breath and then drive off with a wave of the hand to her landlady.
Theodosia said tartly, ‘It would have been much better if I had gone to the hospital and met you there.’
He said gently, ‘You are ashamed of your landlady?’
‘Heavens, no! She’s kind-hearted and good-natured, only there really wasn’t any need to tell you about turning off the lights …’
‘And cleaning the bath!’ To his credit theprofessor adopted a matter-of-fact manner. ‘I believe she was paying you a compliment.’
Theodosia laughed, then said, ‘Perhaps you are right. This is a very comfortable car.’
It was a Bentley, dark grey, with its leather upholstery a shade lighter.
‘I expect you need a comfortable car,’ she went on chattily. ‘I mean, you
Douglas Stewart, Beatrice Davis