Tabitha in Moonlight by Betty Neels

it had been Lilith. Mr van Beek said suddenly, making her jump guiltily:
    â€˜Why do I bore you with all this? But I told you did I not, that you are a very restful woman, and what is more, you look interested.’
    â€˜Oh, I am,’ said Tabitha mendaciously, and jumped again when he went on.
    â€˜I’m glad to see that you’ve stopped playing the Cinderella, and very nice you look too. Does it take very long?’
    She gave him a suspicious look to make sure he wasn’t mocking her, but his face was grave and enquiring; he really wanted to know.
    â€˜Well, I get up half an hour earlier than usual, but I expect I shall get quicker.’ She drew a breath, then: ‘Have you—have you seen Lilith?’
    He looked surprised. ‘No—was I supposed to? I’ve not had time, for one thing, have I? I daresay I shall run into her at the weekend, for I shall be with the Johnsons at Lyme. Do you want me to give her a message?’
    He hadn’t asked her if she was going to Lyme; she fought disappointment at his lack of interest and said steadily: ‘No, thank you— I—I just asked.’
    But his next question sent her spirits soaring. ‘When do you intend to go to Chidlake?’ he wanted to know.
    â€˜I—that is, I don’t often go, not any more.’
    His voice was gentle. ‘Isn’t it your home?’
    She didn’t look at him. ‘It belongs to my stepmother now.’ She had tried to make her voice light and when he said; ‘Tabitha,’ looked at him with a determined smile. He bent his head before she could draw back and kissed her cheek, and she thought she detected pity in his eyes before he dropped their lids, but she couldn’t be sure. He said on a little laugh:
    â€˜Isn’t it time the prince came along with the glass slipper, my dear girl?’
    â€˜I don’t know any princes.’ Her voice was sour and he ignored her remark, still smiling. ‘What a lot of Tabithas there are,’ he mused. ‘Efficient Tabitha on the ward, outdoor Tabitha on the Cobb, kind Tabitha coming to Knotty’s aid, Tabitha in moonlight and—er—cross Tabitha.’
    She had to laugh. ‘I’m not cross, only you say things…’
    â€˜Just as long as you listen,’ he answered blandly, and got up to go.
    She stood where he had left her until Meg came from the kitchen to rouse her from her thoughts with a prosaic: ‘Now, now, Miss Tabitha, daydreaming again, and you promised you’d run up and see Mrs Diment about that bathroom drain.’
    â€˜So I did,’ said Tabitha without any enthusiasm at all; her landlady was a pleasant enough person but given to a nice chat at any time of the day. She didn’t want to go; she would have preferred to stay just where she was, thinking about Marius van Beek. She said for the second time: ‘So I did,’ and went unwillingly out of the front door of the little flat and up the stairs to Mrs Diment’s own flat.
    She saw quite a lot of Mr van Beek during the next few days, but on none of these occasions did he give any sign that he remembered any part of their conversation; he was polite, pleasantly friendly even, but their talk was confined to patients and their bones, so that by the end of the week Tabitha began to wonder if her stepmother was right after all, and it was indeed a waste of time trying to improve her looks. She went off duty on Saturday evening, glad that she had changed her day off with Rogers who wanted to go to a wedding on the Monday. All the week she had gone on duty eager to see Marius van Beek; perhaps a day away from hospital with no chance of seeing him at all would bring her to her senses. Meg would be going to her sister’s, she would have the flat to herself. She spent the short journey thinking of all the things she could do. Sunday loomed, inexpressibly dull, before her.
    Meg’s sister lived in Ottery St Mary.