Tabitha in Moonlight Read Free Page B

that they would have a little talk later on, before she crossed the ward to Mr Raynard’s cubicle. He greeted her so crossly that she asked:
    â€˜What’s the matter, sir? You sound put out.’
    â€˜My knee’s the matter. I’ve hardly closed my eyes all night.’
    Tabitha looked sympathetic, aware from the report that he had wakened for a couple of short periods only, but there was no point in arguing.
    â€˜I expect it seemed like all night,’ she observed kindly.
    â€˜Bah! I told that fool of a night nurse to get me some more dope and she had the temerity to refuse because it wasn’t written up.’
    Tabitha took up a militant stance at the foot of his bed, ready to do battle on behalf of the night staff, who was a good girl anyway and knew what she was about.
    â€˜Nurse Smart did quite right, and well you know it, sir. A fine pickle we’d all be in if we handed out pills to any patient who asked for them. And you are a patient, Mr Raynard.’
    He glared at her. ‘When I’m on my feet I’ll wring your neck…’ he began, and stopped to laugh at someone behind her. She turned without haste; it would be George Steele, zealously coming to enquire about his chief—probably the new man had let him know what time the list would start and poor old George had had to get up early. It wasn’t poor old George but a stranger; a tall, well-built man with a craggy, handsome face, pale sandy hair brushed back from a highforehead and calm grey eyes. He was wearing slacks and a cotton sweater and she had the instant impression that he was casual to the point of laziness. He said ‘Hi there’ to Mr Raynard before his eyes moved to meet hers, and then: ‘Have I come all the way from Cumberland just in time to prevent you committing murder, Bill?’
    Mr Raynard stopped laughing to say: ‘I threaten the poor girl all the time, don’t I, Tabby? This is Marius van Beek—Marius, meet Miss Tabitha Crawley, who rules this ward with a rod of iron in a velvet glove.’
    Tabitha looked at him, her head on one side. ‘You’ve got it wrong,’ she observed. ‘It’s an iron hand in a velvet glove.’
    Mr Raynard frowned at her. ‘Woman, don’t argue. Your hand isn’t iron—it’s soft and very comforting, if you must know.’
    Tabitha said with equanimity: ‘Well, I never—how kind,’ and turned belatedly to Mr van Beek. ‘How do you do, sir?’ She half smiled as she spoke, thinking how delightful it would be if she were so pretty that he would really look at her and not just dismiss her with a quick glance as just another rather dull young woman wrapped up in her work, so she was all the more surprised when he didn’t look away but stared at her with a cool leisure which brought a faint pink to her cheeks. He said at length in an unhurried deep voice that held the faintest trace of an accent:
    â€˜How do you do, Miss Crawley. You must forgive me for coming without giving you proper notice, but I was told it was so very urgent.’
    He glanced at Mr Raynard, his sandy eyebrows raised, and Mr Raynard said hastily:
    â€˜It is—you’re a good chap to come, Marius. Tabby, go away and whip up your nurses or whatever you do at this hour of the day and come back in half an hour. See that George is with you.’
    Tabitha took these orders with a composure born of several years’ association with Mr Raynard. She went to the door, saying merely: ‘As you wish, sir. If you should want a nurse you have only to ring.’
    She went away, resisting a desire to take a good look at Mr van Beek as she went. Half an hour later she was back again, her neat appearance giving no clue as to the amount of work she had managed to get through in that time. She stood quietly by George Steele, nothing in her plain little face betraying the delightful feeling of excitement she was