by Betty Neels
She was shown over the farmhouse next. It was a comfortable dwelling: a large living room, well furnished—although it was obvious that the kitchen was the hub of the house—and upstairs the bedrooms were large and airy.
‘We can come up here for a weekend and go sailing if you like,’ said Ivo, and Serena could think of nothing nicer. Although she had to admit that she had no idea of how to handle a boat.
‘I shall enjoy teaching you,’ said Ivo.
A lovely day, thought Serena as they drove home.
They went to church on Sunday, took the dogs for a walk, with Puss tucked under Serena’s arm, and spent the evening pottering around the garden. After dinner, in the library, Ivo showed her the books she was most likely to enjoy.
A truly perfect day, and her visit to Christina to look forward to tomorrow. It was as she was going up to bed that Ivo came to the bottom of the staircase to ask, ‘What did you think of Dirk Veldt?’
‘He seemed a very pleasant man. Very good-looking too. Is he married?’
‘No. Don’t get too friendly with him, Serena.’
Surprise kept her silent for a moment then she said, ‘Well, I’m not likely to see him, am I?’
She was on the point of adding that she was old enough to choose her own friends, but she thought better of it, for Ivo had sounded like a man who expected to be listened to and obeyed. And, after all, they had been married with old-fashioned vows, and one of them had been to love, honour and obey. Well, she honoured him, even if she didn’t love him, so she would obey him—up to a point!
She said sweetly, ‘Very well, Ivo. Goodnight.’
The ter Brandts lived in a large house in a quiet, tree-lined avenue in Scheveningen. As Serena and Ivo mounted the steps to its imposing front door it was opened by an elderly white-haired man, rather stout. Ivo shook his hand. ‘Serena, this is Corvinus, who looks after Duert and Christina so well.’
A remark which Corvinus received with a dignified inclination of the head before leading them from the vestibule into the hall, just as Christina flung open a door and came to meet them.
‘Oh, good, you’re here. Ivo, must you go away at once, or can you stay for a while?’
He bent to kiss her cheek. ‘Don’t tempt me, Christina, I’ve a clinic in ten minutes or so. May I collect Serena around five o’clock?’
‘And stay for a drink. Duert should be home by then.’
He turned to go, dropping a light kiss on Serena’s cheek as he went.
A brotherly peck, reflected Christina. I wonder why?
She said cheerfully, ‘Come into the sitting room. It’s rather untidy but I’m sorting things for a jumble sale and the children’s puppy and my cats have made it worse.’
It was a lovely room nevertheless, and splendidly furnished, although the vast sofa was covered by a variety of odds and ends and the big rent table under the window was piled with boxes. There was a puppy asleep in a basket and two cats curled up on one of the chairs.
It was obvious that Christina had been sitting on the floor, cutting something from a paper pattern. ‘Corvinus doesn’t approve of me making the room untidy; I have to clear everything up before Duert comes home—not that he would mind.’ She smiled as she spoke and added for no reason at all, ‘We’ve been married for seventeen years.’
Serena got down on the floor with her hostess. It was delightful to find someone so friendly and unself-conscious. She said, ‘May I help?’
‘Would you? That bag of wools—if you’d sort them out? Some of them are in a fearful tangle. You must come to the jumble sale. I’ve got a stall and I’ll need help. It’s on Thursday afternoon.’
‘I’d love to, but I don’t speak Dutch…’
‘That won’t matter as long as you can handle the money. You’ll be the star attraction; we were so delighted when we saw your engagement in the Haagsche Post. Ivo’s far too nice not to be married, and I’m so glad it’s you.’
Christina rummaged in her workbasket. ‘Now, tell me all about yourself.’
‘Well, I’m not a bit exciting, I’m afraid. I lived at home looking after my father until he died—that’s when I met Ivo. At least, we met out walking and talked a bit, although I didn’t know who he was…’
Christina made a small encouraging sound and Serena found herself telling her about her brothers and her difficult father. She had to talk about Ivo, too, of course, but she glossed over her stay in London, merely saying that they had decided to marry quietly since Ivo had had to return to Holland.
‘Very sensible,’ said her hostess comfortably. ‘I’m sure you will be happy here. You’ll be swamped with invitations to dine and have coffee with all the wives, but they’re all nice women; you’ll like them. Gossipy, of course, but you can take that with a pinch of salt. They’ve been marrying Ivo off for some years…’
And then Corvinus came in, tut-tutting at the state of the room. Tea, he told his mistress, would be served in the garden room, if the ladies cared to go there very shortly.
Christina said something to him in Dutch to make him smile and added, ‘We may have ten minutes to finish what we are doing.’ When he had gone she said, ‘He’s been with Duert for years. When I first came here to work at the hospital it was he who met me at Schipol, and he’s been my friend ever since.’
Serena finished sorting the wools, put them tidily in a box, and went with her new friend out of the room and across the hall to a much smaller room, very cosy, its window overlooking the garden. And here they had their tea.
‘English afternoon tea,’ said Christina with a twinkle, ‘and in the winter Duert has crumpets sent from Fortnum and Mason.’ She added simply, ‘He spoils me…’
Serena felt a sudden pang of envy—to be so loved… The thought was followed immediately by the heartening one that Ivo might not love her but his liking had been deep enough to make him want her for his wife.
They lingered over tea, and they were still there when the two men came in together. Duert bent to kiss his wife and smiled at Serena. ‘You found enough to talk about?’ he asked.
Ivo had come to stand beside her chair, stooping to kiss her cheek.
‘Indeed we did,’ said his wife. ‘Serena must come again and meet the children. She’s going to help me at the jumble sale…’
‘A nerve-shattering event for all but the most strong-minded women!’ They all laughed as Duert said it.
They went soon after that; Ivo had to return to the hospital to check a patient’s condition.
‘But you’ll come to dinner soon,’ said Christina. ‘We’ll have a few people in to meet you. Serena must get to know everyone as quickly as possible.’
‘You enjoyed your afternoon?’ asked Ivo as they drove back to the hospital.
‘Very much. I didn’t know that Christina had been a nurse here.’
‘Yes, but she and Duert met in London. I dare say she will tell you about it.’ He didn’t say more, and there was no chance to ask him since they had arrived at the hospital.
Ivo parked the car near the entrance, assured her that he would be a mere five minutes or so, and went into the hospital. The main door was glass, and she could see him walk the length of the entrance hall and then start up the staircase at its end.
It was comfortable and warm in the car, and she was content to stay there and mull over her pleasant afternoon, but she rounded herself presently and glanced at her watch. The five minutes was already fifteen…
She looked through the doors and watched several people passing to and fro, but there was no sign of Ivo. Several more minutes had passed before she saw him, walking slowly from the staircase. There was a woman with him—too far off to see her clearly—but she looked young, talking animatedly, and Ivo, his head bent, was listening. They slowed their walk and stood near the door so that Serena had a better view. The woman was young and pretty, and well dressed, and she had a hand on Ivo’s arm.
Serena was surprised at the sudden rage which shook her, made worse when
Ivo put a hand on the woman’s shoulder. They had all the appearance of old, familiar friends, laughing together. Serena had the urge to jump from the car and remind Ivo that she was his wife. Then common sense took over. Ivo had friends whom he had probably known long before he’d met her, and she had no business to mind about that. It would be different if she loved him…
She looked away from the door. That was the trouble, of course. She did love him! She had never fallen in love before—you couldn’t count Gregory—and she had had no idea. She drew a long, calming breath and took another look at the door. They were saying goodbye—no formal handshake—and Ivo was walking out towards the car.
CHAPTER SEVEN
IVO got into the car beside her.
‘Sorry I was longer than I expected.’ He gave her a brief, smiling glance and she waited for him to tell her about the girl. Only he didn’t. Serena swallowed back the words she longed to utter; this was something she must sort out for herself, a complication she hadn’t even thought of. And if she had discovered that she had fallen in love with Ivo before they had married, would she still have married him? Common sense said no, but her heart said yes. This was something she would have to learn to live with. She would have to fill her life with other interests, leaving Ivo free while at the same time fulfilling her wifely duties. And she might as well start straight away…
‘Your patient was all right?’ she asked. And when he nodded added, ‘You don’t mind if I help at the jumble sale? Christina thinks it would be a good way of meeting a few of her friends.’
‘I agree. Get to know as many people as you can, my dear, then when I’m away you won’t be lonely.’ He sounded casual. ‘I’m going to Madrid—there is a case there I’ve been asked to operate upon. I won’t take you with me for I shall be too busy.’
She kept her voice pleasantly interested. ‘When do you go?’
‘On Thursday.’
They were home by now, and the rest of the evening was spent pleasantly enough, walking the dogs and having a leisurely dinner. But as they left the table Ivo said, ‘I’ve a good deal of work to do. I’d better say goodnight, Serena.’
So she sat for a while with Puss for company and her knitting to keep her fingers occupied. Her head was occupied too, but not with knitting.
Ivo was to take an afternoon flight to Madrid but first, he explained, he would have to go to the hospital. So Serena ate a solitary lunch on Thursday after bidding him a cheerful goodbye.
‘I’m not sure when I’ll be back,’ he’d told her, ‘but I’ll phone.’
She hadn’t been able to resist asking, ‘A few days? weeks?’
He’d smiled down at her. ‘Days.’
She had nodded and smiled brightly, longing to say that she would miss him.
Wim was to drive her to the ter Brandts’ house after lunch, and because she felt unhappy, despite all her good resolutions, she decided to go earlier than was necessary. Wim could set her down in Den Haag and she could get the wool she needed for the sweater and take a tram to Scheveningen. The dogs had had their walk in the morning, so she bade Puss goodbye, got into Wim’s little Fiat and was driven into the shopping streets. There was still plenty of time before she needed to be at the ter Brandts’ house, and almost without thinking, she turned her steps to the hospital. Ivo would be gone, but just to look at the place would make him seem nearer…
She was idling along, close to the hospital now, when Ivo’s car swept past her. And sitting beside him was the girl. She was talking animatedly but Ivo was looking ahead, which was a good thing otherwise he might have seen Serena’s astonished face.
She stood stock-still, not quite believing her eyes. A woman with a pushchair and several small children rather pointedly nudged her out of the way and she turned on her heel and walked back the way she had come. She wanted to go home, to go into the garden and sit quietly and think, but there was the jumble sale. She stopped a taxi and got to the ter Brandts’ house only a few minutes later.
Christina, coming to meet her as Corvinus admitted her, took one look at her face and said briskly. ‘Good, you’re on time. I hope you’ve come prepared for hard work. Did Ivo get away in time to catch his plane?’
She bustled around, carrying on a conversation which needed no replies, for she could see that Serena was in no state to chat. Had she and Ivo quarrelled? she wondered. The girl looked as though she could burst into tears. Christina wisely forbore from asking, but hurried Serena out to her car and drove to the hall where the sale was to be held.
Mercifully there was so much to do when they got there, and she was introduced to so many people that Serena had no time to think, and when the doors were finally closed Christina drove her back and gave her tea before getting into the car once more and taking her back home, all the while chatting quietly about nothing much, relieved to see the colour come back into Serena’s cheeks. She didn’t stop.
‘I must get back home; Duert likes me to be there when he comes back. He mulls over his day with me. I expect Ivo does the same?’
Serena conjured up a small smile. ‘Oh, yes, he does.’ But she sounded so forlorn that Christina just stopped herself in time from asking what was wrong.
Back home later that evening, with the children in their rooms, she looked across at Duert, sitting in his chair, reading the paper.
‘There’s something wrong,’ she told him. ‘Serena isn’t happy—in fact she was on the point of tears. Do you suppose they’ve quarrelled?’
Duert put down his paper. ‘My darling, it is perfectly natural for couples to quarrel, and they are neither of them young and foolish.’
He smiled at her and she smiled back, sure of his love and of her love for him. She said, ‘We’re happy, aren’t we?’
‘Blissfully so, dear heart, and so will they be, but give them time.’
Serena ate a solitary dinner, took the dogs and Puss into the garden and went early to bed, explaining to Wim that she had a bad headache.
‘More like she’s missing the master,’ he told Elly. ‘Pity she couldn’t have gone with him.’
‘He wouldn’t take her to Madrid—all those foreigners.’ She sighed sentimentally. ‘Missing him, of course, and he’ll be glad to get back home to her.’
Serena didn’t sleep much. She did her best to be sensible; she must not let imagination run away with her. Perhaps the girl was one of his assistants, or a special nurse to look after his patient. She had been very well dressed for a nurse, and she hadn’t looked like one. Ivo would phone her in the morning and she would ask in a casual manner. No, she couldn’t, because he would know that she had seen them together.
Her mind in knots, Serena’s imagination became more and more vivid as the night advanced. It was almost daybreak when at length she dozed off.
She took the dogs out directly after breakfast, intent on being in the house if Ivo should ring, but there was no phone call; she pottered in the garden, never far from the house, but although various of the ladies whom she had met at the jumble sale phoned, with invitations to coffee or tea, there was nothing from Ivo. ‘He’s been too busy,’ she told Puss, and, since there was nothing better to do, took the dogs for another walk.
He didn’t phone the next morning either, so that by lunch time she was not only desperately unhappy, she was in a fine rage. Just because they weren’t madly in love with each other—well, he wasn’t anyway, she amended—that didn’t mean to say he could forget her the moment he left home.
She pecked at her lunch and went to the library to look for a book. It was while she was there that Wim came to tell her that she had a visitor.
‘Dr Veldt, mevrouw,’ said Wim, ‘in the drawing room.’
Serena put down her book. ‘Doesn’t he want to see my husband, Wim? Perhaps he doesn’t know that he’s away. I suppose I’d better go.’
Dirk Veldt was standing looking out of the window, but he turned as she went into the room.
‘I thought that you might be lonely now that
Ivo is away,’ he said, and crossed the room to take her hand. ‘Too bad of him to leave his bride so soon after the wedding.’
Serena said calmly, ‘Good afternoon, Dr Veldt. I’m not in the least lonely, although it is kind of you to ask.’
‘I thought you might like to drive into the country? The real country.’ He sneered a little. ‘The Veluwe is beautiful at this time of the year.’
‘It’s a famous beauty spot, isn’t it? But, no, thank you.’
She hadn’t asked him to sit down, and waited quietly for him to leave. He was an attractive man, and amusing, but she wasn’t sure if she liked him.
He smiled. ‘Oh, well, there was no harm in asking. Perhaps another time—Ivo goes away quite frequently, you know. Madrid this time, wasn’t it? Some VIP, I suppose, with a broken leg. Still, he’ll have Rachel to keep him company.’ He smiled widely at her.
She met his gaze with an answering smile. ‘Yes, it’s a good thing that he has,’ said Serena, with what she hoped was just the right amount of casual interest. ‘I’m sorry that I can’t ask you to stay for tea…’
It was just as well that he left then, otherwise she might have burst into tears. He was a mischief-maker, with nothing better to do than stir up trouble, she told herself. All the same, he had sewn the seeds of doubt in her mind.
She must forget his sly remarks, she told herself. If she hadn’t fallen in love with Ivo she supposed they wouldn’t have mattered, but now it was hard to banish them. She went back into the library, determined to ignore them, but when at last Ivo telephoned that evening she found it hard to talk to him. In reply to his questions as to how she had spent her days she gave stilted answers, and she didn’t tell him of Dirk’s visit, only enquired as to his work.
‘I hope to be home in a couple of days. You aren’t lonely?’