Authors: Elizabeth Gilzean
“Yes, please.”
Sally
’
s eyes were like stars but John couldn
’
t be sure whether it was for the dress or for him.
“I
’
ll collect you for supper
first ...
seven o
’
clock suit you? I
’
ve booked a table.”
“You must have been sure I was coming,” Sally said and then caught an amused glance, passing between John and her aunt. “So you planned it between you,” she accused them. But her voice didn
’
t sound a bit cross.
Mr. Conway appeared in the doorway. “Sally, you
’
re wanted on the phone. It
’
s George and he says you said something about coming over.” Then he saw John and greeted him warmly. “Sorry I didn
’
t get back sooner. How are things at the hospital these days?”
Sally hadn
’
t missed the questioning glance John had thrown her and she went reluctantly to answer the phone. Already a shadow lay over the evening ahead.
CHAPTER NINE
Sally picked up the receiver. “Sally speaking.”
She knew it was George at the other end but because she was annoyed with him for calling she left him to make the running.
“What
’
s Uncle George done to merit that chilly voice, I
’
d like to know?”
Sally had to laugh. It was always impossible to remain angry with George for long.
“It
’
s nothing you
’
ve done,” she admitted.
“That
’
s something. How about coming out with me for supper?”
“When?” Sally asked knowing she was being cowardly and trying to postpone the inevitable.
“Tonight of course. Why? Aren
’
t you free or something?”
“I
’
m afraid I
’
m going out,” Sally said.
“Afraid? You mean it
’
s one of those duty occasions? Can
’
t you get out of it?”
“No, it isn
’
t and I don
’
t want
to ...
I mean it
’
s something I want to go to.” Sally, knew she was getting herself into a tangle.
“I see.” There was a silence at the other end of the line. “You wouldn
’
t be going with John by any chance? Claris did ask if she
could change half-days and John covered for her last night.”
“I am going out with John and I fail to see where Claris comes into it,” Sally said stiffly.
There was another silence and Sally began to hope that the exchange had cut the connection.
“Can I stick my neck out and ask if it
’
s the Founders
’
Ball you
’
re going to?”
Sally wished she could tell a nice little white lie but George would only find out by tomorrow anyway. She sighed.
“Yes, it is, and George, do you have to ask so many questions?”
“Is that a hint that it isn
’
t any of my business? You did say you weren
’
t going.”
“I know, but a girl can change her mind and my aunt has given me the most wonderful evening dress to wear to it,” Sally found herself telling him.
“Bribery and corruption, eh? I suppose the next thing I know she
’
ll be carting you off to America,” George said mournfully.
He was so close to the truth that Sally lashed out at him defensively. "At least there would be peace from your questions there!”
“Okay, Sally. You did warn me of your intention and I can
’
t blame you for trying. Maybe I
’
ll phone you another day if you
’
re still prepared to go out with an ordinary casualty officer who hasn
’
t got a posh car,” George said with a weary sort of savagery.
“Oh, George, don
’
t!”
“Sorry, Sally. I
’
m in the wrong kind of mood for talking to pretty girls, I guess. It
’
s odd but I
’
m discovering things about myself I never knew before. Have a good time but remember Uncle George warned you that you
’
re jumping into deep water. Founders
’
Balls aren
’
t the safest affairs for staff nurses.
‘
Bye.”
Sally put down the phone. Blast
George ... W
hy did he have to go and stir up all her own uncertainties? She
would
have a good time tonight in spite of him.
Sally took a final look in her mirror before going down to greet John. Her mirror told her truly she had never looked lovelier. Excitement had flushed her cheeks until they too wore the blush of a rose to go with her dress. She hesitated as she started down the stairs. Would John like the picture?
“Sally, come here a minute.”
She obediently went into her aunt
’
s room and presented herself for appraisal.
“You look better than one of your father
’
s orchids, Sally. I was going to offer you some jewelry but I guess you
’
re lovely enough without. Hope you have a gorgeous time and dance every dance.”
Sally ran down the last steps. Her parents were going out to dinner and they would be waiting to lock up.
John was standing by the door talking to her father and with one accord the two men turned and the admiration on their faces made Sally feel suddenly shy.
It was John who found his voice. “Honey, you look sensational! When I asked you I didn
’
t know I was going to be escort to the beauty queen to beat all beauty queens!”
Mr. Conway kissed the cheek nearest to him. “Have a good time, Sally.” He looked at John with mock sternness. “See that you look after her and keep the wolves away.”
Sally was never quite sure when the evening began to go wrong. Supper at a famous restaurant had been a fitting beginning and the wine they had with the perfect meal had helped to settle the last of Sally
’
s butterflies. Traffic had held them up and the receiving line was beginning to thin out when they reached the big hotel where the Founders
’
Ball was being held. Sally hadn
’
t expected the master of ceremonies who called out in such clear ringing tones, “Dr. Tremayne and Miss Conway!”
Sally
’
s hand was trembling as she placed it on John
’
s arm and began the long march past the receiving line. She was vaguely aware of faces that smiled at her, the men
’
s expressions more admiring than those of the women. If Matron recognized her staff nurse she showed no sign either of approval or disapproval as she gave them a gracious good evening.
At last they had reached the dance floor and as if taking pity on them the orchestra struck up a tune and John whirled her into the first open space.
“Whew! They sure opened that with a flourish! The electric chair
’
s quicker and less painful! You all right, honey? You got sort of pale as we did the long walk.”
“I
’
m all right. I was just plain scared,” Sally admitted.
She didn
’
t like to tell him that this ballroom full of so senior people was casting a cloud over the gay spirits she had started the evening with. There were so few faces she knew and she was convinced that they were disapproving of her presence. Dances at the hospital were fun ... even Matron
’
s Christmas Ball which was attended by all the senior medical staff was sufficiently lightened by all the people she knew among the nurses and residents. She couldn
’
t tell whether John was enjoying himself or not, and her outfit which had seemed so outstandingly lovely when she had tried it on now seemed just another pretty dress among the many lovely ones worn by the older women. She forgot her youth gave her an advantage that they didn
’
t possess and her drooping spirits took some of the glow from her face.
John took her out on one of the balconies during the break and found a seat.
“Like something long and cool to drink, honey?”
Sally smiled at him rather wanly. “Yes, please. It is hot, isn
’
t it?”
“You
’
re telling me! Why this dress shirt isn
’
t a limp rag is a secret known only to my laundry! Gosh, I thought England only got hot
in books ...
”
He wiped his forehead. “Shan
’
t be long, honey.”
From where she was sitting Sally could look down into the strand and see the crowds strolling along. They looked so carefree as they chatted, glanced in shop windows, held hands, and generally enjoyed themselves. She glanced back toward the ballroom. Probably the other guests were having a good time too. They were used to these grand affairs and most of them knew others there. Was John being quiet because he was overawed by his surroundings or because he was finding her a dull partner? She wished she hadn
’
t come. If she had gone out with George they
’
d probably be arguing as usual but at least it would be more fun than this. Where had John got to? The music had started up again and he hadn
’
t come back with her drink.
“Sorry, Sally. I met a couple of guys and couldn
’
t get away. They
’
d come over on the boat with me.” He put down two tall glasses that chinked pleasantly with ice. “Put this inside you, sweetie, and you
’
ll feel a whole lot better.”
Sally felt ashamed and tried to whip up her flagging enthusiasm but she couldn
’
t have managed very well because John said suddenly, “Like to cut the rest, honey? You
’
re not having yourself a whale of a time, are you?”
Sally tried to hedge and then decided to be honest. “It
’
s a bit stodgy,” she said reluctantly, “but maybe it will pick up.”
“I guess it hasn
’
t a hope. The ingredients aren
’
t there. Let
’
s get your wrap and scram. Do we have to bow ourselves out or anything?”
“I
’
m afraid I don
’
t know.” Sally put down her glass and stood up. “John, I feel very mean. You probably want to stay and
I’m
spoiling it for you.”
He shook his head emphatically. “Not you, honey. It
’
s getting me down as well.”
Sally collected her wrap from the cloakroom attendant and walked toward the foyer. She could see John talking to someone and then as she approached she could see it was Claris Stornoway. Sally
’
s first impulse was to flee down one of the dim corridors that branched off the foyer but she stopped herself in time. She didn
’
t know where John had put the car and there was no other way of getting back to Much Over tonight.
Then Claris caught sight of her. “If it isn
’
t our little staff nurse from Theater all dressed to slay them! John, you naughty boy! You didn
’
t tell us you were taking her!”
Sally saw John firmly remove Claris
’
s clinging hand from his arm.
“See you tomorrow, Claris. Meantime I
’
m taking this little girl home.”
Claris looked Sally up and down. “Can
’
t she take it? Maybe we
’
ll see you later instead of tomorrow. How about it? Some of us are going on to Josie
’
s afterward.”
“Count me out this time, but thanks all the same.”
John took Sally toward the door with a very determined stride. She felt the cool air gratefully on her face and felt a little better.
She hadn
’
t thought to ask John what had been in that single tall drink. Whatever it was, it hadn
’
t mixed very happily with the wine she had had earlier.
It was a very silent drive back to Much Over. Sally remained huddled in her corner and John drove swif
tl
y through the darkness humming some plaintive air over and over again.
John brought the car to a smooth halt outside the gates of Greenoaks, switched off the engine, and glanced across at Sally. “How goes it, honey? Feeling better?”
Sally roused herself. “I didn
’
t really feel sick ... just I don
’
t know.”
John put out an arm and rested it lightly across her shoulders but he couldn
’
t mistake her restrained withdrawal.
“What
’
s wrong, sweetie? Don
’
t you like me any more?”
“It isn
’
t that, John. I know it sounds silly, but it
’
s just that I don
’
t want you to get serious in case you
are ...
because,” she burst out, “I
’
m going to America very soon.”
She had said it now and in a way she knew relief but it was tinged with regret.
John took his arm away. “Was I getting serious? Guess maybe you were nearly right. This guy can take
a hint ...
so you needn
’
t worry. Seems to me you
’
ve been handing them out since the beginning and I was too dumb to notice. Found some other guy to buy that ticket to the States for you?”