A Christmas to Cherish--3 Book Box Set by Betty Neels

Author:Betty Neels [Neels, Betty]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781460887523
Publisher: Mills & Boon Special Release
Published: 2012-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWO

DEBBIE looked up from the piles of folders on the table in the Records Office as the door opened and Mr van der Eisler came in. Her disconsolate face broke into a smile at the sight of him, although she asked with a touch of wariness, ‘Oh, hello—have I sent the wrong notes up again? I can’t get anything right, and now that Olivia’s not here to sort things out for me I seem to be in a muddle the whole time.’

He came unhurriedly to the table and glanced at the untidy piles on it. ‘I expect it will get easier once you have got used to being on your own. And I do want some notes, but there’s no hurry. Do you have to file these before you go home?’

She nodded. ‘It’s almost five o’clock and I daren’t leave them until the morning; there’ll be some bossy old sister coming down and wanting to know where this and that is. Interfering so-and-sos.’

‘Ten minutes’ work at the most,’ declared Mr van der Eisler. ‘I’ll sort them into alphabetical order, you file them.’

‘Cor—you mean you’ll give a hand? But no one ever does …’

He was already busy, and after a moment she did as he suggested.

‘I expect you miss Olivia,’ he observed presently.

‘You bet I do.’

‘Does she come to see you?’ His voice was casual.

‘No, worse luck. Doesn’t live near here. Her granny’s got a flat Islington way; she and her mum have to live with her since her dad died, left them badly off. Not that Olivia told me much—shut up like an oyster when it came to her private life.’ She laughed. ‘Not like me.’

He handed her another pile of folders. ‘You live near the hospital?’

‘Five minutes walk. Me dad’s out of work, Mum’s part-time at the supermarket. Was I scared that I’d get the sack? Olivia didn’t tell me, but the girl in the office said as how she had another job to go to. This wasn’t her cup of tea. Been to one of those la-di-da schools, I dare say. Always spoke posh, if you see what I mean.’

Mr van der Eisler agreed that he saw. ‘Not many jobs going in Islington, I should have thought.’

‘Not where her granny lives—one of those dull streets with rows of houses with net curtains. Had a soppy name too—Sylvester Crescent.’

Mr van der Eisler’s heavy lids drooped over the gleam in his eyes.

‘Very fanciful,’ he agreed. He handed over the last pile, waited while Debbie filed the folders away and came back to the table, made his request for the notes he needed, listened with a kind smile to her thanks and, with the folder under his arm, took himself off.

Debbie, bundling herself into her jacket, addressed the tidy shelves. ‘Now there’s a real gent for you. That was a nice chat too—no one knows how dull it is down here these days.’

Mr van der Eisler, discussing the next day’s list with the senior surgical registrar and the theatre sister,

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