Green for Danger by Christianna Brand

while—several weeks; but it won’t hurt, not very much; and then they’ll fix you up in a plaster and you’ll be able to hop about, and when it comes off it’ll just be a matter of getting the leg strong again and you’ll never know the difference. It’ll take a long time and it isn’t exactly heaven, but that’s the worst there is to know.”
    He looked at her intently. “Are you just telling me this?”
    â€œNo,” said Esther. “I don’t ‘just tell’ people things. Give me your other hand.”
    â€œAre you going to hold it for me?” he asked, laughing.
    â€œOnly as long as it takes to wash it; and don’t try to flirt with me—I don’t like it.” She pulled down his pyjama sleeve with a jerk and picked up the basin and towels.
    â€œI’m sorry,” he said, surprised and rather hurt.
    â€œThat’s all right.” She looked at the remains of his clothing folded away in the locker, at the shoes beneath it, which, though cut and scratched by debris, were of the rich, chestnut colour that only comes of polishing beautiful leather. “Are you a civilian?”
    â€œNo, I’m a simple Able Bodied in the Navy. I happened to be home on leave and I was helping out with my old job.”
    She did not inquire as to what his job had been, but the word ‘home’ caught her attention. “Do you live in Heronsford?”
    â€œJust outside. I—well, you know the big brewery out at Godli-stone?”
    â€œGood gracious—don’t tell me you’re a brewer?” she said, laughing.
    â€œI’m afraid I am; does that astonish you?”
    â€œWell, no, not exactly; but you don’t—well, you don’t seem like a brewer, that’s all.”
    He looked at her with a quizzical smile. “You mean I talk like a pansy?”
    She had not met many men in her sheltered life with her mother, in their little flat; not on equal terms, not in easy badinage. She was a little embarrassed and said doubtfully: “No, of course, not that. But … well, one thinks of brewers as large men with brawny arms and red noses.”
    â€œWell, I don’t know about brawny arms,” said the tib. and fib., laughing, looking down at the muscles bulging under the thin sleeve of his hospital pyjamas. “The red nose is only a matter of time, I expect. I have to explain that I’m the sort of King Brewer. I own the place, you see.”
    â€œYes, I see,” said Esther.
    â€œSo, if you ever want any free beer, you know where to come.”
    â€œWell, I’m not very fond of beer,” said Esther apologetically.
    â€œThat’s a pity,” said the fractured tib. and fib. He added: “Because you’re going to see an awful lot of it in future,” but he did not say it out loud.
    The sister on day duty came bustling in from the bunk where she had been in consultation with the retiring night sister. “Everything all right, nurse?”
    â€œYes, Sister, thank you.”
    â€œYou know number eight is going up for operation at half-past nine?”
    â€œYes, Sister.”
    â€œAnd the fractured femur after that.” She went to the corner bed where the screens had now been moved aside. “Good morning. How are you feeling?”
    â€œI had a terrible night,” said the man briefly, opening his heavy eyes and looking at her resentfully.
    â€œIs your name Higgins?”
    â€œYes, it is,” said the man, “who wants to know?”
    â€œWell, we all want to know. They couldn’t find out last night. You’re a postman, are you?”
    â€œYes, I am,” said Higgins; “at least I was. It doesn’t look as if I’ll ever be able to do it again.”
    â€œOh, nonsense, of course you will,” said Sister brightly. She said to Esther as she hurried on round the ward: “He seems very low. You’d better have a talk