The Silver Thaw

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by Betty Neels


  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Exactly what I say. Would you like to stop for a cup of coffee before we get to St Ansell’s?’

  She would have liked that very much; it would mean another half hour in his company, but she said firmly: ‘No, thanks—I’ve several things to do and I’m on at eight o’clock tomorrow.’ She added: ‘Are you going back tonight?’

  ‘Tomorrow. I promised to look in on someone later this evening.’

  Amelia almost swallowed her tongue in her efforts not to ask who the someone was. As it was she couldn’t prevent herself from saying: ‘I hope I haven’t spoilt your evening—it’s quite late.’

  ‘Not at all. I daresay we shall go dancing.’

  That beastly redhead—old what’s-his-name’s youngest daughter. She said, ‘How nice,’ in an icy voice and Gideon laughed.

  ‘I do believe there’s hope yet,’ he observed.

  ‘What for?’ asked Amelia instantly.

  ‘Who for?’ he corrected her gently, and then didn’t answer her question. The Victorian outlines of St Ansell’s loomed out of the gloom and he turned in through the gates.

  He got out of the car and opened the door for her and then walked with her to the hospital entrance, and when she would have lingered for a few minutes, loath to see him go, he cut her thanks short with a casual, ‘Only too glad to give you a lift, Amelia. In any case I had to drive myself back.’

  He touched her cheek briefly, his gentle finger at variance with his careless manner. ‘You’re too pale and you’ve lost weight.’

  ‘You always say I’m fat!’ A gross exaggeration which made him laugh.

  ‘Never.’ He opened the door behind her. ‘Good-night, Amelia—I’ll see you on Old Year’s Day. Bring some pretty dresses—there’ll be at least two parties; the New Year’s quite something with us, you know.’

  She nodded and mumbled good-night and hurried inside. She didn’t care if she never saw him again, she told herself crossly—and at the same time felt wild with excitement at the idea of staying at his home again.

  During the night she woke several times, each time more determined than ever to find some excuse for not going to Holland. She had been very silly, she decided, tossing to and fro, very wakeful. She could have avoided seeing Gideon quite easily; the less she did see of him the better; in that way she would forget him all the sooner. She slept at last and went on duty in the morning still full of her good resolutions. She told herself that she felt much better all ready and her extraordinary cheerfulness at breakfast left her friends gaping. She was just as cheerful throughout the heavy and difficult list which dragged on until the early afternoon. When it was at last at an end, she left Staff to get theatre ready for the afternoon list, mercifully a short one, and went along to her office to snatch a cup of tea and a sandwich.

  There was an envelope on her desk with her name typed upon it and urgent in big letters. Amelia filled her mouth with bread and cheese and opened it. A plane ticket fell out. There was a note with it. From Gideon, it said simply: ‘The plane goes at ten o’clock, don’t miss it. Gideon.’

  She swallowed her mouthful, drank her cooling tea, tidied herself in no time at all and rushed to the office. She had the next two days free in any case, and she had said that she would ask for two more to be added to them, but being full of high-sounding resolutions that morning she hadn’t done anything about it; now probably it would be too late.

  By some miracle it wasn’t. The lists were so small for the days following the New Year, she could safely leave everything to Staff Nurse. Permission was granted readily and Authority even remarked that she looked a little pale and it might be wise to take a few days’ holiday.

  Amelia raced back upstairs, to scrub up in apparent calm while she deplored the fact that she would have no time at all to go out and buy a new dress. She would have to manage with what she had.

  She chose carefully with the help and occasional hindrance of various friends. They helped her pack too and then all went down to supper, still discussing whether she had the right clothes with her, laughing a lot, careful not to mention Tom. She felt mean that although she had known most of them for years now, she didn’t feel she could tell them that Tom had slipped away into a past which didn’t matter any more and that she was eating her heart out for a man who treated her with the careless friendliness of someone who had known her for ever and didn’t even see her. And worse, that she was fool enough to allow herself to be coerced into paying him a visit. Even with his entire family around him, she would have ample opportunity of reducing her resolutions to rubble.

  Chapter EIGHT

  AMELIA FOLLOWED HER fellow passengers off the plane at Schiphol in a state of panicky excitement. Supposing there was no one to meet her—and oh, let it be Gideon she prayed silently, and don’t let my insides rumble when we meet. She’d been a fool not to have eaten any breakfast and she had had only coffee on the flight; she’d been too excited for more. She went through Customs in a dream, smiling enchantingly at the serious young man who wanted to know if she had anything to declare, so that he grinned back rather sheepishly, pleased that he had someone pretty to deal with, and indeed she did look charming in the Jaeger suit and its matching top coat and little mink cap crowning her dark hair. She wished the young man a friendly goodbye and went on her way to the reception hall—packed out; no one would ever find her. Her panic returned, quite drowning the excitement for the moment as she envisaged spending hours waiting for someone to pick her up when probably she had been quite forgotten. She broke off the absurd daydream as a young man touched her arm. ‘You’re Miss Amelia Crosbie, are you not?’

  She turned to look at him; a member of the van der Tolck family without doubt; the same handsome features and bright eyes, although not as hugely built as Gideon.

  ‘Yes, I am. How did you know?’

  He chuckled. ‘Gideon told me to look for the prettiest girl on the flight. There was no mistaking you.’

  She didn’t much like fulsome compliments, but somehow she didn’t mind him. ‘Thank you, although I’m sure Gideon didn’t really say anything as nice. More than likely he told you to look out for a tall, well-built girl—he may even have called me fat.’

  He took the case at her feet. ‘I promise you he didn’t. The car’s outside, and I’m to drive you home; Gideon’s got his hands full and the house as well. We’re a large family, but I understood your family is large too.’

  He was an amusing companion, telling her more about himself during the short drive than Gideon had in all the weeks she had known him. His name was Renier, he was twenty-five, just finished at the medical school at Utrecht where he had a flat of his own and was planning a trip to America. ‘Just to look around, you know. I don’t suppose I shall like it all that much, but Gideon says I must travel and see something of the world before I get a job.’

  ‘What do you plan to do?’ asked Amelia, much drawn to the young man.

  ‘Oh, medicine—I’ll never be as bright as Gideon, of course, but I daresay he’ll take me as a partner in a few years’ time.’

  ‘You’re not married or anything?’

  ‘Lord no—we’re slow starters in the family when it comes to choosing a wife. Look at old Gideon...’ He stopped himself and added a little too quickly: ‘Well, you know what I mean more than anyone else, I suppose. Here we are—there are a lot of us, but we’re all nice.’ He grinned at her. ‘I shall call you Amelia.’

  ‘Yes, do.’ She got out of the Mercedes he had been driving and tried to make sense of his remark about Gideon—did he mean that Gideon was going to be married? Was he warning her nicely? She had no time to make up her mind: the front door was flung open and Jorrit appeared on the top step to usher them inside and almost before she had gained the hall, Gideon was coming out of a door to meet her.

  His greeting
was a nice mixture of casual friendliness, pleasure and gentle mockery. And why should he be smiling in that infuriatingly smug fashion? Amelia asked herself as he shook hands, there was nothing in his manner to make her think that he was anything more than just pleased to see her. His handshake had been brief as he turned his head to speak to an elderly lady coming towards them. She was of middle height, no more, comfortably plump and with a round youthful face from which sparkled a pair of very blue eyes. She was dressed in excellent taste but with no regard to fashion and her grey hair was set in an elaborate style which Amelia guessed to be several decades out of date.

  ‘Mama—this is Amelia.’ He looked down at Amelia. ‘My mother.’

  They shook hands under his eye before Amelia was swept away, her coat removed, into the drawing room, filled, she saw with something of dismay, with people, drinking coffee and talking at the tops of their voices.

  She was given coffee in a lovely porcelain cup, offered a seat on a giant sofa between two elderly gentlemen and then introduced with smooth charm by Gideon to everyone there, and what with excitement and meeting so many strangers all at once she was soon in a fine muddle of strange-sounding names. Not that it mattered, she reminded herself; she wasn’t likely to encounter any of them once she had gone away again.

  She spent the next half hour or so in a whirl of small talk until presently she was led away upstairs to tidy herself for lunch. She had been given the same turret room as she had had on her previous visit and it looked delightfully welcoming with a bright fire in the old-fashioned grate and a bowl of sweet-smelling spring flowers on the dressing table. Someone had already unpacked her case and hung her clothes away, and once she had re-done her hair and face she went to the window to look out. It was a cold grey day, but there had been a heavy frost, silvery white against the sombre sky. The bare trees shuddered and swayed in the mean east wind and there wasn’t a soul to see. And yet she loved it—probably, she was honest enough to admit, because Gideon lived in the middle of it all.

  She was on the point of going downstairs again when there was a tap on the door and a girl of her own age came in. She said, ‘Hullo,’ in a friendly voice and went on, ‘Gideon asked me to come up and see if you had everything you wanted. I’m his younger sister, Saskia—we did meet downstairs but you couldn’t possibly remember all of us.’

  She crossed the room to join Amelia at the window. ‘Nice, isn’t it? We—that’s me and Karel and little Karel—live in Utrecht and I love it there, but I was born here and spent my life here until I married and it’s like a second home, although Mama isn’t here any more. She stayed a little while after Papa died, but then she went to another house we own so that Gideon’s wife will feel free to do as she likes.’

  So he was going to get married. Oh, well, she’d never had any reason to think that he was even faintly interested in her—kind, yes, and fun to be with, but that was all. She would have to be careful to hide her feelings for the next day or two. Just for a moment she regretted coming but only for a moment; she would enjoy herself and treasure her visit to remember for the rest of her life. She smiled at her companion. ‘It’s a beautiful house,’ she said seriously. ‘I’ve just everything I could possibly need and I’m ready to go downstairs.’

  Lunch was a cheerful, rather noisy meal, with Gideon at the head of the table and his mother at the foot. Amelia, sitting between Renier and a slightly older cousin, had an excellent view of them both, although she tried hard not to look at Gideon too often. All the same, she caught his eye once or more and smiled back at him wondering if the pretty brown-haired girl sitting next him on his right was the girl he was going to marry. It was a pity that she had a great many rings on both hands, and it was impossible for Amelia to see if she wore an engagement ring or not.

  Everyone broke up into small groups after lunch. Some were planning a drive into Hilversum, several of the younger ones decided on a brisk walk and most of the elderlies decided comfortably to stay indoors and catch up on family news. Amelia had accepted the offer of a walk from Renier and two other girls, cousins and very much her own age. She had seen Gideon disappear into his study after lunch; presumably he had work to do and considered, quite rightly, that his guests could entertain themselves for an hour or so. She fetched her coat, wound a long scarf round her neck, pulled a woolly cap over her hair, found matching gloves, and joined the others in the hall. They were to leave by the garden door, which meant passing the study, and it was as they drew level with it that its door was flung open and Gideon, making a long arm, brought her to a halt. ‘Just the girl I wanted to see,’ he observed. ‘You go on, all of you, we’ll catch you up presently.’

  He drew Amelia into the room and closed the door and she heard them clattering off laughing and talking. ‘I was going for a walk,’ she pointed out mildly.

  ‘So you shall. I’ve something you might like to see first.’

  ‘Oh, but I thought you were busy—working...’

  He smiled slowly. ‘Because I came here? It seemed to me to be an easy way to get you to myself without causing too much of a stir.’

  She stiffened. ‘Why should it cause a stir, pray?’ She was suddenly cross. ‘Anyway, I think I’ll catch the others up. I feel like a walk.’

  ‘I said that all wrong, didn’t I? I’m sorry.’

  He didn’t explain himself further, though, so she asked: ‘What is it you wanted me to see?’

  ‘I’ll get my coat.’ He led the way back through the hall and picked up a sheepskin jacket thrown down on one of the console tables. ‘We might as well go through the front door,’ he remarked, and glanced down at her. ‘Will you be warm enough? You ought to have that padded jacket you wore in Norway.’

  ‘That’s my fishing jacket, it’s years old and smells fishy.’

  He tucked her hand under his arm and marched her round the side of the house towards the group of outbuildings lying in a semi-circle behind the yard. ‘That was a wonderful holiday, Amelia, coming back here seemed very tame. And for you? Not a happy homecoming, was it?’

  She said shortly, ‘No, but I don’t want to talk about it.’

  He glanced at her, a thoughtful look in his eyes. ‘Then we won’t. This is where we get in out of the cold.’ He pushed open a small door in the side of one of the barns and stood aside for her to go in too. It was warm and sweet-smelling inside, there was hay stacked against one great wall and there were two horses and a small donkey in their stalls, and in an empty stall, beyond them, was a small, silky-haired dog with a rather anxious expression and melting eyes. She whined when she saw them and then wagged her overlong tail. ‘Puppies,’ said Gideon, ‘four of them.’

  ‘Only a day or two old—they’re sweet! I didn’t see her when we were here, though.’

  ‘She’s only been here a week—I found her.’ His lips tightened a little and Amelia didn’t ask the question on her tongue. ‘She’ll join the household as soon as the puppies are safe to move, in the meantime she’s happy enough here.’

  ‘What will you do with the puppies?’

  Gideon laughed. ‘Mama is to have one, Saskia is to have another, and I shall keep two—the place is big enough to house five dogs.’

  ‘Where are Nel and Prince? I haven’t see them since lunch; they’re always with you...’

  ‘They were under my desk in the study, they know they mustn’t come here just yet.’

  ‘And who will train them? I mean, puppies need a lot of attention...’

  He looked down at her. ‘I hope my wife will take on that job.’ His voice was very deliberate.

  ‘But I didn’t know that you were married...I mean, you weren’t, were you? Have you just...’ Her voice tailed away. Surely if he had got married his wife would be here with him, the centre of the family party?

  ‘Oh, I’m not married yet.’ He leaned down to pat the little dog, fished a biscuit fr
om his jacket pocket and gave it to her and then handed out sugar to the donkey and horses. ‘Well,’ he spoke briskly, ‘if we’re to catch up with the others we’d better start walking.’

  They went out into the cold again and she waited while he latched the door. She didn’t expect his sudden hard kiss; it left her breathless and speechless and bewildered, although it didn’t have that effect upon Gideon. He said in a perfectly normal voice: ‘If we cut across this field, I think we’ll catch them up before they get to the lake. Did they intend going on to Mayeveld, do you know?’

  ‘I really don’t know,’ she told him in a high voice: her hard-won composure was in ribbons already, and she hadn’t been in the house more than a few hours. She went on in a hurry: ‘Does the lake freeze over if it gets really cold?’

  He treated her to a detailed account of the weather conditions and their consequences. Indeed, he hadn’t quite finished when they saw the others ahead of them and he let out a great shout so that they turned round and started back towards them. For all the world, thought Amelia, as though he were relieved to be shot of me. She frowned. So why did he kiss me?

  A final fling before he became a married man, she supposed, walking back with one of the cousins, listening to a detailed description of the delights which lay ahead of them that evening. A lot more people after dinner, it seemed, who would dance and play round games and see the New Year in with champagne. Amelia hoped her father wouldn’t be too lonely without her—although the aunts would still be there. They were on the point of entering the house when Gideon left Renier and took her arm. ‘You’d like to telephone your father, wouldn’t you, Amelia? Come along to the study and do it now. Later on it will be impossible—there’ll be delays and you might not be able to get him at all.’

  So she went back to the study with him, and this time the dogs came to greet them and then lay down again when Gideon sat down at his desk and picked up the phone. Amelia pulled off her cap and scarf and gloves and undid her coat, and presently Gideon held the phone out to her. ‘Badger’s gone to fetch your father,’ he said, and got up to go.

 

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