Philomena's Miracle (Betty Neels Collection)

by Betty Neels

  Tritia saw it; she paused for a second, then hurried on to cast herself in Walle’s arms and kiss him—an action which he suffered with equanimity but, Philomena was glad to see, a total absence of interest. Nor did he hesitate to announce their engagement, and Philomena, submitting to Tritia’s congratulatory kiss, had to admit that the girl was hiding her surprise and probably chagrin very well. The croquet was abandoned after that and they went back into the castle and presently had tea, sitting in the sunshine of the verandah leading from the drawing room. And because dinner that evening was to be some sort of a celebration, Walle took Philomena back to Mevrouw de Winter’s house and waited for her while she changed into a dress more suitable to the occasion and piled her hair carefully, achieving such good results that he declared that she was the prettiest girl he had ever set eyes on, a totally satisfactory and untrue remark which pleased her mightily.

  They had champagne that evening and a delicious succession of dishes which Philomena ate without really noticing what they were; she would have been content with bread and cheese, just as long as Walle was there.

  And after dinner Walle carried her off to his study to discuss what was to be done next. He would have liked her to have left the clinic then and there, but that wasn’t possible, they both agreed about that, but he was firmly insistent that she should leave Mevrouw de Winter’s and live in the castle.

  ‘Otherwise I shall see almost nothing of you, dear heart, and then only at work. There is no reason why you shouldn’t go to and fro with me each day, and if I’m called away, you can drive yourself in the Mini. I’ll see about getting you replaced at the earliest possible moment, but until we can be married you will stay here under my roof. I have to go to Cologne at the end of next week, but only for two days, and Mama has promised to visit Grandfather at Schuttebeurs, but my aunt will be here. Would you like to telephone your stepmother?’

  ‘Yes, please—but I’m not sure if they’re home. I telephoned her nearly a week ago and they were just leaving for Scotland to stay with friends—but only for a week or ten days, I think.’ She twiddled the ring on her finger, admiring it. ‘I hope it will be convenient—me getting married, I mean.’

  The doctor gave her a loving look. ‘If it isn’t,’ he assured her cheerfully, ‘we’ll get married here. And now, my darling, let us be businesslike for a little while. There are three full clinics tomorrow, aren’t there? And you’ll be working at each of them. I have patients to see in Zwolle in the evening, but I shall be back about eight o’clock. We’ll go out to dinner, somewhere not too far away, if you’re not too tired.’ He paused: ‘That won’t do—you will be tired. We will come here and dine alone and if you want to doze off over the coffee you can do so in comfort.’

  Philomena giggled. ‘Oh, it won’t be as bad as all that,’ she told him. ‘We should be finished soon after seven, you know, and the evening surgery isn’t all that busy, but I should like to come here, just with you. Won’t it make a lot of extra work, though?’

  The doctor looked surprised. ‘I imagine not. In fact, everyone is so delighted that we’re going to be married that I think it possible that they will enjoy planning our supper.’

  ‘I should have liked a new dress,’ observed Philomena. ‘You’ve seen them all now.’

  The doctor smiled. ‘Yes? I’ve been wondering how many new outfits I was to be charmed with. I like this one; wear that.’

  She looked at him with suspicion. ‘I thought you hadn’t noticed anything I wore…’ She frowned. ‘You never looked as though you did.’

  ‘I think that I have noticed everything about you, dearest heart; everything you have said and done and worn.’

  She pinkened under his look. ‘I should be going back to Mevrouw de Winter’s…’

  ‘So you should; I’ll take you now and talk to her at the same time. Could you be packed ready for tomorrow evening, do you think?’

  Philomena assured him that she could: ‘You’re sure that your mother won’t mind? Or your aunt?’

  He raised his eyebrows. ‘My dearest Philly, they will be delighted. And even if they weren’t—which is absurd—they are guests in my house.’

  Philomena refused to be intimidated by the eyebrows. ‘Yes, well—but they’re your family.’

  ‘My mother is—Aunt, no—only married into it. She will be leaving soon, anyway.’ He shot her a keen glance. ‘You don’t like her?’

  ‘I don’t know her, Walle. I just thought she doesn’t like me.’

  He said something in Dutch which she took to be the equivalent of nonsense. ‘Everyone likes you—how could they do anything else?’ He pulled her gently to her feet and kissed her just as gently. ‘I’m a very lucky man,’ he told her.

  He had been right about the clinics. They were full to overflowing; the day flew by with a hurriedly snatched meal at midday with Mevrouw de Winter, aglow with reflected romance, loitering in the doorway, admiring the ring, saying, with the strength of hindsight, that of course anyone could have seen that a wedding was in the offing and what did Miss Parsons intend to wear?

  Philomena, her mouth full of her lunch, answered in her ragged Dutch, assured her landlady that she would tell her in good time, and rushed back to take the baby clinic. It overflowed into the early evening so that she had no time for tea before going over to Doctor de Klein for the evening surgery.

  She hadn’t seen Walle all day, but she hadn’t expected to and in a way she had been glad. It left her free to get on with her work and pack her things with more speed than neatness. All the same, when at last she was free she was both hungry and tired; she wouldn’t be a very gay companion that evening, even if she was a happy one. She changed into the green dress and made the most of her face and hair, and arrived downstairs only ten minutes late, to find the doctor sitting in the kitchen, drinking Mevrouw de Winter’s excellent coffee while that lady plied him with delighted questions.

  The drive to the castle seemed very short and prettier than ever; the June evening sky was clear and unclouded and the country was at its best. The castle gleamed in the late sunshine and Philomena, looking at it with the contented eyes of its prospective mistress, observed: ‘It must cost hundreds of pounds to keep in apple pie order.’

  ‘Thousands.’ He glanced down at her, smiling. ‘Don’t worry, Philly, I can afford it.’

  She flushed faintly. ‘I didn’t mean to pry.’

  She felt his hand on hers. ‘My dear, it is right that you should take an interest in your home; one day soon, when we have the leisure, you shall come into the study and I will explain the upkeep of the castle and tell you about rents and land revenue and everything else you must know. Here we are, and I’m famished!’

  Mathias opened the door to them and informed them that Mevrouw van der Tacx had gone to a concert in Zwolle and taken Mevrouw van Niep with her. ‘And I have set dinner in the small dining room, mijnheer, seeing that it’s just the two of you.’

  The small dining room wasn’t all that small, Philomena discovered. Its circular rosewood table could seat eight very nicely and there was room to spare for the vast sideboard along one wall and the display cabinet between the windows. Its walls were hung with crimson tapestry, almost hidden by the vast number of pictures hung upon it. Nonetheless, it was an elegant room; she could imagine it would be a charming background for a dinner party. Although it was still light, someone had lighted the candles in the great silver candlesticks on the table and there was champagne in its bucket… She had been feeling tired, but now she wasn’t any more. Mathias ushered her carefully into her chair and served the soup as though it were a privilege to be in on the party.

  They had lobster Thermidor to follow with a salad grown in the kitchen gardens of the castle, then strawberries and cream and water ices, and finally a bowl of fruit from the glasshouses with their coffee.

  It was late when they rose from the table; too late to worry about business matters, declared the doctor, time enough for that during the next few days.
He took Philomena instead to the small sitting room, where they sat talking until they heard his mother and aunt returning.

  Mevrouw van der Tacx swept into the room, very elegant in her evening dress and wrap, to embrace Philomena with a sincere affection which dispelled any doubts she might have about her welcome. Mevrouw van Niep greeted her kindly too, though with reserve, but perhaps she was like that, thought Philomena, listening to Mevrouw van der Tacx’s remarks about the concert and music in general. And presently the two ladies went up the stairs to their rooms, leaving Philomena and Walle to sit talking until the night was dark and still.

  The days were different now. Philomena still worked, but it wasn’t quite the same thing, for Walle drove her in each morning and swept her back for lunch, however hurried, and then fetched her again in the evenings. The clinics were as busy as ever and Philomena, who had supposed that she would find it difficult to work with Walle, discovered that it made no difference at all; at the clinic he was the doctor and she the nurse. He even addressed her as such, turning a bland, serious face to hers, treating her in a polite impersonal manner, and when she taxed him with it, he had laughed and told her that it would be quite impossible in any other way, an opinion to which she had to agree.

  And at the castle each evening she spent long hours with him, learning about his home and his family and his work and once or twice meeting his friends and getting to know them too, for they would be her friends now.

  With Mevrouw van der Tacx she got on splendidly. ‘I always wanted a daughter like you, my dear,’ the older lady confided. ‘I know that when Walle is married I shan’t stay here so frequently, but I hope that you will invite me from time to time and you must certainly come to see me in Friesland. As a family we tend to live far apart, but we are closely knit and like to visit each other!’

  Philomena gave her a quick hug. ‘You must come as often as you like,’ she cried. ‘We shall love having you, you must know that. Walle is devoted to you and I have come to love you too.’

  And indeed she had, she realised with some astonishment; her stepmother had never aroused such affection as she felt for Walle’s mother. It was a pity that she couldn’t feel the same for his aunt—that particular aunt, anyway. There had been other aunts and cousins and uncles she had met and liked, but there was something sly about Mevrouw van Niep…

  Tritia she saw seldom; she had many friends and was away for days on end, and when she was at the castle they talked trivialities on the rare occasions when they found themselves together. There was so much to do, Philomena discovered; the dogs to walk, Walle to accompany when he went to see a tenant farmer or a sick workman on the estate, and once they visited the woman who had been taken ill in her isolated hut and was now quite recovered and living in the village. Walle was a good landlord as well as a good doctor and he was very rich, she had discovered. It had worried her a little at first; that he had wealth enough to maintain the castle and his comfortable way of life she had accepted, but a visit from the family solicitor so that certain finances might be arranged for her benefit left her surprised; on paper, his income looked enormous, as did the funds from which he drew this income, but as he had pointed out to her in his placid way, the castle needed a good deal of money to maintain and he was fortunate enough to have it. She could only agree with his sensible remark that to allow it to fall into ruins for lack of funds would be a terrible thing to happen. After that she found herself accepting the comfort in which she now lived and as the days went by her happiness was complete, despite the rush and bustle of the clinics, and that wouldn’t be for much longer.

  She had been at the castle for ten days when Mevrouw van der Tacx went away to visit Walle’s grandfather at Schuttebeurs, and two days later Walle went away too, the necessary journey to Cologne to attend a seminar and be the guest of honour at a dinner there, which left Mevrouw van Niep and Philomena to keep each other company.

  Walle had wished her goodbye very early in the morning, loath to go and unable not to. ‘And when I come back we will fix a day for the wedding,’ he told her. ‘The new nurse will be coming in a couple of weeks now, the banns have been read, haven’t they? There’s nothing to stop us marrying when we want to.’ He kissed her lingeringly. ‘As soon as possible, my dear love.’

  Philomena, watching the car going down the drive, thought how very nice it was to be someone’s dear love. Two days was a long time, she reflected. She would pass them by making final plans for the wedding. She hadn’t decided on the church yet and nor had she bought a dress. She wandered back indoors, her head full of dreams.

  CHAPTER NINE

  WALLE HAD BEEN GONE for several hours when Philomena got her telephone call. She and Mevrouw van Niep had lunched together, the elder lady reminiscing about the doctor’s youth, his brilliant career, his wealth and the glorious times he had had with Tritia. ‘Not that I wish to alarm you, my dear,’ observed the lady. ‘I am quite sure that he has squashed any feelings—any strong feelings—he may have had for her and realised finally that these were not returned. Tritia is such a charming girl and so sought after, it is only natural that she should prefer younger men than Walle.’

  To which Philomena had no reply but a murmur which could have meant anything at all. She had accepted the fact the Mevrouw van Niep didn’t like her, but she had no need to be nasty about it—and anyway, she told herself, she didn’t believe a word of it. Walle would have been a strange man indeed if he hadn’t been in love half a dozen times at least, and after all, it was herself he had chosen. She declined her companion’s offer of a chat in the sitting room with the excuse that she had a letter to write, and wandered off through the house, looking at its treasures and marvelling that they would soon be hers as well as Walle’s.

  The telephone call was from her stepmother and she sounded agitated. ‘Philly, you simply must come home at once—it’s Chloe, she’s so ill.’

  ‘What’s wrong?’ asked Philomena. ‘Is she in hospital?’

  ‘Chickenpox, and very badly—the poor darling.’ The usually lazy pleasant voice sounded distracted. ‘I’ve a nurse for her—you know how hopeless Miriam and I are at looking after anyone who’s ill—but Chloe can’t bear her. Darling, you must help—after all, your family comes first.’ She added thoughtfully: ‘Besides, you’re a trained nurse and it’s only right that you should look after her.’

  Philomena let that pass. ‘How long has she been ill?’

  ‘Three days, and she looks terrible and she feels so ill… Could you get a couple of weeks off? I can’t remember if you said that you were still working, anyway, I can’t see that that matters. Perhaps I should telephone Walle— Oh, Philly, you must come!’ The voice was a wail now.

  ‘Walle isn’t here, but of course he won’t object—I’ll catch the first plane I can—is Chloe at home?’

  Her stepmother couldn’t have heard her, because all she said was: ‘Come straight home, Philly—try and let me know when you will arrive, and I’ll meet you.’

  ‘It will be some time tonight at Heathrow, I expect— I’ll try and let you know later, and don’t worry.’

  Philomena put the receiver back and sat quietly for a few minutes, making her plans. Walle wouldn’t be back for two days and although she was quite sure that he would telephone, it would be late in the evening; she would be gone long before then. Luckily Mevrouw van Niep was home. She would write Walle a note and ask her to give it to him when he got back and at the same time she would give her a message to pass on when he telephoned. She would have to let Doctor Stanversen and Doctor de Klein know too and get Corrie to take over for a few days. She sighed, wishing that Walle was there to settle everything in a few quiet words, then picked up the telephone once more. Both doctors were out and weren’t expected back until late, so all she could do was to leave messages, but Corrie was still at the clinic and cheerfully undertook to see to everything.

  ‘I really ought to see one of the doctors,’ explained Philomena worriedly, ‘but I jus
t haven’t the time to go hunting around for them—besides, no one seems to know just where they are. If I’m quick I can get a plane from Schiphol, Mathias will drive me there, it’s only just two o’clock and I can be away from here in half an hour.’ She was thinking out loud now. ‘It’s two hours to Schiphol, give or take half an hour, that makes it about five o’clock, and I might be lucky and get on the next flight—I can be at Heathrow by the evening… Corrie, you will explain, won’t you?’

  Reassured by Corrie’s friendly voice, she went in search of Mevrouw van Niep, sitting in her stately fashion in the small sitting room, her embroidery frame before her. She looked up as Philomena went in and although she smiled her pale eyes were cold. She listened in silence to what Philomena had to tell her and at the end inclined her head graciously.

  ‘You have done quite rightly, Philomena. I shall certainly give Walle your message when he telephones—so much better than a note, don’t you think?’

  ‘I’d be very grateful—if you could explain and tell him that I’m sorry I had to go like this without warning. I know he’ll understand; my stepmother seemed very upset and she’s not a very practical person. I’ve left messages for Doctor Stanversen and Doctor de Klein, and Corrie has promised to do my work. Do you suppose someone could drive me to Schiphol? I can be ready in ten minutes or so.’

  Mevrouw van Niep gave her a thoughtful look and took so long to reply that Philomena was about to repeat her request when she answered with a little rush: ‘Certainly, Philomena, I’ll see to it at once. Have you enough money with you? Is there anything you might require?’

  Philomena gave her a grateful glance. ‘You’re very kind, but I have everything I need.’ She spoke with more warmth than usual; she had misjudged Mevrouw van Niep, who was being very kind and helpful, and over her swift packing, she reflected that it was fortunate that Mevrouw van Niep would be there to speak to Walle when he telephoned. So much better than leaving a message with one of the servants; Mevrouw van Niep would be able to explain and it wouldn’t sound so bad.