Your turn, add a sentence or two - let's see what happened to the Greenslade family, the van Oosterweldes, Sinclair, The Blot...
Blow Hot, Blow Cold,
Visiting Consultant,
Visiting Surgeon, Surgeon from Holland. What do all these have in common? They're the same book. Okay, they're almost the same book. My copy of
Visiting Consultant
(published as a Best of Betty Neels in 2001) refers to a dance being
conducted with a CD player. Dear me, Harlequin. You think the
electronics are the most out-dated thing in a Betty Neels?
Theatre Sister Sophia ('Sophy') Greenslade
is inching inexorably towards 26. On the asset side of the ledger she
has a pair of gorgeous eyes, a quick sense of humor and a loving family.
On the debit side she has the primary responsibility for that loving
family (two brothers, a sister, a granny and Sinclair (her deceased
father's ex-batman)), no social life and a shy personality. Oh and she's
short.
When she finds her youngest brother on her sidewalk in the custody of Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Glowering her heart gives a thump.
She was, she told herself, very angry.
Little brother Benjamin was chasing The Blot (the dog) and the family
cat (whose name fails to make the cut) into a Bentley-traveled street.
Him: Oh, so you're Sister Sophy.
Her: What of it?Him: The boy might have dinged my fender.
Her: Oh I'll show you a dinged fender...It
doesn't go well but he is left with an impression that she is a girl
with skills. Brother managing, dog naming, two-fingered whistling
skills. He is instantly smitten.
Professor Jonkheer Maximillan van Oosterwelde (39 and hot, hot, hot)
is taking over for Uncle Giles (her godfather and the chief surgeon)
for several weeks. Sophy is skittish but they settle down to a placid
working relationship wherein he shows a maddening tolerance for minor
nursing hiccups. (Is there anything more abhorrent than being patiently
tolerated?)
One day, while stuffed into her office for coffee and
digestives, Bill, a young resident surgeon, leans over and makes plans
to come over to her house. Ah, young love!...but it's not what you
think. It's not what Max thinks, come to that. Bill is in love with
Penelope, Sophy's 15 year-old-sister, but is
'man enough to hide it' until she's older. In the mean time he helps her with her trig homework and takes them to the zoo.
Editorial Note:
I think that's just about the most adorable side story in the History of Neelsdom. Now forget it. Betty does.Overhearing this, Max manages to work in a cutting remark while offering her a lift home.
Loosen up, Sophy and sit back. Isn't Bill Evans rather young for you? Grrr. Sophy knew it had been a mistake to lean back against the leather seats of his socking Bentley.
It
is wonderfully satisfying then, when told about Bill/Penelope (I tried
in vain to mash up their names into something treacly like Bennifer or
Brangelina or TomKat but, alas, Peneloill didn't fly.), he has to climb
off his high horse.
Max begins to make himself at home with her
family--meals together, outings with the children--Uncle Giles is Max's
godfather too and that seems enough to be going on with but it doesn't
look like he's really in need of her company and she's shy of butting in
where she might not be wanted. So, obeying an instinct she can not as
yet articulate, Sophy arranges her off-duty and her free time so as to
avoid him. She knows, in a secret corner of her mind, that he spells
danger. However, since the whole point of him being with her family is
to see her, he notices her absence. Storming into her office, he
announces,
'What have I done?'
Well,
she's not sure yet either and when he lays into her, telling her that
he is not interested in laying violent hands on her or in flirting with
her (true. He wants to put a ring on it.) she can do one of two things:
A) React huffily and deny, deny, deny. (Always a favorite choice.)
or
B) Acknowledge a painful, if humiliating, truth. (I vote this one!)
I'm afraid I've become a real old maid in the last few years. Oh, Sophy.
I
just love her in that moment. There she is, up to her chin in
responsibilities and no social life to speak of and this man (this hot,
hot man) is shaking her composure. What she ought to have said was,
'What
have you done? You've made it impossible for me to look at another man
for the rest of my life and, since you're impossibly out of my league,
this means you've doomed me to a spinster's life. Thanks for nothing.'It is the next day, while scrubbing up for surgery, that she has her forehead-slapping dawning realization.
Oh dear. What now?When we have leisure, you shall explain that remark to me.
Indeed, I will not, sir.What
now? she asks. Now, she has to try and set him up with her gorgeous
friend Mary. (Just go with it.) This involves some subterfuge on her
part and is a hilarious failure (
Do you know what we talked about? Delayed primary suturing. He...held forth.) and Max doesn't waste any time getting Sophy alone to explain a thing or two:
I'm not available.
...I understand perfectly what you mean.I wonder if you do.Drat.
That and references to Max's 'evenings out' strangle any faint hope
that she might let him know she rather likes him in their pram.
What's a girl to do--muddled in love and snatching at her pride like a flyaway hat? Make up a boyfriend, that's what.
He
is John Austin (a name she chooses because it's easy to remember. She
promptly muddles it.) who lives in Harrogate and is a bank manager with
dark hair and blue eyes and isn't too tall.
Editorial Note: Max knows she's lying right from the get go and he manages to flog that horse into the ground over the course of the book. Sometimes
Max uses John Austin as a weapon, sometimes a tool, and sometimes a
joke. I feel sorry for Sophy already. Fibbers never prosper.They
go on a smashing date though (because the legendary John Austin is in
Harrogate. And then Max invents a cock-and-bull story about a sick
dinner partner and some handy tickets.) and it reminds us that they are
really ideal for one another.
But at this point in the plot you're
thinking to yourself, 'Golly, I sure wish an unsuitable houseman would
get Sophy drunk or her parents would die (taken!) or a bomb would go off
at the hospital.' Hospital bombs and an ensuing fire? That we can do.
While
operating, little whorls of smoke start to eddy under the door and Max
orders Sophy to take herself off while he and the anesthetist finish up
without her. Her refusal to retreat is merely one more jewel in her
eternal crown.
Tucking her firmly under his arm, Max runs the gurney
out of the OT just as the roof begins to collapse. They've saved each
other's lives but there's no time for breathless romantic interludes.
It's all hands on deck as the wounded are shunted to various other
hospitals and triage is done in the hospital conference room. When she
comes off duty (many hours later) he has come to take her home. But not
before a little pity kissing which you might think, given the mythical
status of her boyfriend, would be just what the doctor ordered.
Since
the operating theatre is...ahem...out of operation, Max returns to
Holland--not before making a thorough goodbye of nearly everyone
excepting Sophy. She rates a fortifying handshake given in the company
of others. She's a bit hurt and bewildered but Max, no doubt, thinks
that since he can't say goodbye the proper way (kissing and proposals)
than he'd best not do it at all.
When his letter comes, begging her
to take a temporary position with him as theatre sister in Holland for
three weeks, she doesn't want to say yes. But she has to or there's no
book so she lets herself be persuaded.
We leave behind all of the
charming secondary characters we've grown to love in England just as
Sophy does. They are hardly mentioned again.
Just as soon as her plane touches down in Holland, Max whisks her off to meet Mevrouw van der Wijde. Tineke.
Him:
Hey, Sophy, baby, let's swing by and meet a gorgeous and wealthy widow
woman who is totally unrelated to me. She possibly wants to check you
out because she, as my main squeeze, has the right to object to my
female employees.I totally forgive Sophy for misconstruing
their relationship. Max did say he wasn't available and already had a
best girl. I guess this is she.
Her suspicions are confirmed when she asks another nurse why Max is
'of course'
not free on Friday. Does he sleep in a coffin and drink the blood of
the living? Is he moonlighting as a lounge singer? No, responds the
nurse (mortified to think she might be repeating gossip),
he...um...always goes home...where Tineke also is.
Editorial Note: Betty glosses over the details but
it is difficult to construe what the embarrassed Dutch nurse thinks
this to be as anything other than a weekly friends-with-benefits
booty-call. In the land of the RDD, why else would they not be married? I
can just picture Maise-the-ward-maid explaining things with a cigarette
dangling from her lips: They ain't playing Canasta, I'll tell you that
right now.While in Holland, Max discovers that Sophy is
having a birthday. Within minutes Max arranges flowers and then a
surprise dance at his house later that evening. Wow. That seems ripe
with intention.
But, to round out the numbers, Max invited a European gigolo. No, not really.
Harry the Inoffensive
is a social butterfly but there's no harm in him...right up until he
gets Sophy's number and dances her around the floor. That's what comes
of failing to properly vet your guests, I suppose.
Max's jealousy prompts him to conduct a really proper row.
Him:
Hey, happy birthday. Let's insult your taste and age and judgment in
relation to Harry. Oh, and John Austin...er...Morris...I know about him
too because, among your other myriad faults, which, as you can see, I
have listed here with appendices and cross-referencing notes, you are a terrible liar. Have I said happy birthday?She's
humiliated at being caught out and called...names but manages to
preserve her dignity with small talk. His response is to kiss her into
next Tuesday.
He wants his face slapped, is what he wants.
Happy Birthday.
He's
in a grotty mood in the morning too and is her own particular demon in
OT. But seeing her really upset pops his bubble. He makes some really
handsome apologies and she is friendly enough to accept them.
Him: So...this might be a good time to talk about Booty-Call Tineke.What a bummer the phone rings.
He tries again the next day but she heads him off at the pass.
I'd much rather you didn't tell me. Anyway, I know.
He is surprised (No one ever expects their text-messages to be
hacked...) but she has to run off for an outing with Tineke so that's
that.
Upon her return, Max needs her to assist in a difficult amputation and we get to see his sterling qualities.
You're a kind and good man, Doctor. Dear me, Sophy, don't speak so soon.
Harry
the Inoffensive has chased her down at last and invited her to a
concert. Max invites himself along with another group of friends just to
keep his eyes on our girl and then cuts her evening off with a made up
message about on-call duty.
He presents himself to her the next
morning so that she can rain fire and brimstone over his head but she
admits good-naturedly that he hadn't, in fact, ruined her evening. What a
shame that he can't let it go at that.
That's better. What a pity your choice of boy friends is so unsuitable. John Austin didn't do you much good, either, did he?He deserves her tears-crowding-her-throat, 'I hate you.'
How
awkward it is, then, to have to thank him, mere hours later, for
bringing Uncle Giles and Aunt Vera (oh, England hasn't sunk into the
sea?) over for a visit.
Her apology (which I don't think she had any business making) prompts him to observe:
It's blow hot, blow cold with you, isn't it?Um. Pot, Kettle. Kettle, Pot.
But he makes yet more handsome apologies. (Huzzah! The Titanic is turning!) This is beginning to remind me of some
lyrics from one of those moody 90s bands Mijnheer van Voorhees used to listen to:
If I dig a hole to China, I'd catch the first junk to Soho. Max is digging but he's a not a grudge holder and is quick to retrench.
He
asks her to stay another week and also to come to a dance at his house.
(A ball! Lots of stories end at a ball!) But Tineke is out in the car
so he's got to go.
She sneaks into the party and he finds her by herself on a quiet bench.
'You're shy, aren't you?...you yourself and all you say and do, is a never-ending delight to me.'Editorial Note: Yay!
He finally gets her. All that teasing about John Austin was a much
bigger deal for her than for him. She's stood up to it very well but
he's got some ground to regain. He regains it in an even more
secluded parlor (lovely place for a spot of snogging if you don't have a
lay-by handy) and she's having the time of her life until Tineke bursts
in, crying and babbling in Dutch. Max escorts her from the room and
puts some firm RDD arms around her while she cries hysterically into his
waistcoat.
Do you blame Sophy for leaving? I don't.
Max
practically drags her by her hair back to his house the next day and
tries to tell her about Tineke but he's not in a very conciliatory mood
to begin with and she isn't either. She rushes in with her version of
events which are pretty damning:
Your booty-call is a nice woman and she broke us up and I saw you holding her like you cared!
And
then she throws the book at him. And by 'the book' I mean she more than
implies that he was preying on her because she was just a plain nurse
with no money and was, as such, fair game to someone in his position.
(Gasp! That's going to leave a mark.)
Even though Max is the only one
in the room to know that her version is bunkum, he doesn't leap into
the breach with the truth. He's too hurt and his only retaliation is to
deny her tea and kiss her cruelly. (But she still probably liked it. I
would.)
On her final day in Holland, Tineke comes to Sophy's room.
Oh
dear, did I do this? Max was covering for me and Professor van Essen
who have loved each other for years but were too dirt-stupid to marry
each other in the first place. His wife was incurably insane (Honey, is that what the married men are selling these days?) until
she died with suspicious convenience on the night of the dance. Max has
been letting us carry on at his house every Friday while he plays
Canasta!Sophy, with a bravery not unlike members of Pickett's
Charge or that of the fabled Light Brigade, knows she's going to her
doom as she lays siege to Max's office. She gets out a very strangled
explanation and then runs for it. He
so catches her.
The EndRating:
Oh my heck, did I love this. Please forgive the choppy review. There
was so much wonderfulness that I had to leave out and I sometimes think
that ripping apart a book you loathe is easier than adding anything and
doing justice to a book you love.
Sophy is so adorable. It helps to think of her as Charlie Bucket from
Willie Wonka.
Max is her sweet shop that she looks at longingly but avoids because,
well, why torture herself when she can't have him? And then, because she
is so good and honest and loving, in the end she gets the factory, the
chocolate and all the Oompa-Loompa slave laborers for her very own.
She
fibs a ton which is much funner to read than the ladies who are
faultless and stoic and if you're looking for a read that has more drama
than some of Betty's later work (but less tragedy than, say,
The Hasty Marriage) then this would be a perfect read.
Max is no slouch either. He's distracted by
L'affair Tineke
(Everyone claims that they find it impossible not to like her but, yet,
I do--most vilely.) and horribly eaten up with jealousy when
Inoffensive Harry enters the scene (which leads to drama and
indiscretions). He twits her about John Morris-Austin way too much until
finally (FINALLY) figuring out that her shyness is making his overture
seem mean instead of teasing. (He does twit her about it again after
this discovery but only when in a rage and goaded to it.) He is
otherwise chasing her skirt satisfactorily--doing a lot more wooing than
I was able to stick in anywhere in the review.
Betty abandons the
British family as soon as the protagonists move on to Holland which,
given how charming everyone is, is a bummer.
But that doesn't matter because I'm giving it a
Lashings of whipped cream with a cherry on top anyway
.Food:
She enjoys the 'post-prandial aroma of toasted cheese' (yum), Quiche
Lorraine, treacle tart, roast pork, Daisy chicory, Tournedos Benjamin
(ordered in honor of her brother), cauliflower cheese, beef (That's it.
Just 'beef'.), digestives dispensed with 'a matronly air',
coupe Clo-Clo that she orders just for the name and a great deal of italics food.
Fashion:
A serviceable tweed coat that you want to kick to the curb, an amber
Thai silk that sounds gorgeous (if off-the-peg) and gets worn
everywhere,
a squirrel coat that I find it difficult to imagine as anything less than an outfit-wrecking catastrophe,
a lambswool shirtwaister and a jersey shirtwaister. Sophy's Staff nurse
shows up at the hospital fire wearing a purple trouser suit and an
overpowering fox fur hat.
