by Betty Neels
‘Well, there’s nothing to do about it, is there, darling? Only don’t let her stay to all hours.’
‘We’ll be back around six o’clock. Are you having a pleasant day with Arabella? Are the babies all right?’
‘I’m enjoying myself very much; she’s a dear and the babies are fine.’
‘Darling,’ said Aldrik, and rang off.
‘There’s someone coming to dinner,’ said Cressida. ‘A doctor—she’s frightfully clever and she’ll talk about enzymes and antibodies and things. She’s invited herself and I’m sorry—I was looking forward to a chatty evening. If she suggests coming again I’ll say we’re going out for the evening.’
They spent a lazy afternoon and after tea bathed the babies and put them to bed since it was Nanny’s evening off, and then they changed. Arabella, going through the clothes she had brought with her, decided on the jersey dress. Simple, beautiful material and worth every penny she had paid for it. Doing her hair, she decided that when she got back home she would go to a good hairdresser and have a perm, even have it all cut off—anything as long as it was different from the mousy topknot she was now arranging so neatly.
She and Cressida were in the drawing-room when the men got back.
Aldrik opened the door with a cheerful hello and stood back to allow a young woman to walk past him. Cressida hadn’t said what she was like—arrestingly handsome, with large blue eyes and corn-coloured hair in little curls all over her head, and her dress, of some flowing silky stuff, was cut low over an opulent bosom. She didn’t look in the least like a doctor but vaguely romantic and mysterious. Arabella, being introduced, smiled and held out a hand. The enemy, she thought silently, and wondered why she had thought that.
Titus had smiled at her as he came into the room but that was all. She felt resentment bubbling up and suppressed it; later she would give it full rein... ‘How delightful to meet you,’ said Arabella mendaciously. ‘What interesting work you do, and you and Titus share a common interest, don’t you?’ She sat down on a small sofa and patted the place beside her. ‘Do sit down and tell me something about it. Have you known Titus a very long time?’
Geraldine Tulsma eyed her carefully. ‘On and off for several years. You and Titus haven’t been married long, have you?’
‘No—but of course we’ve been friends for some time.’ Arabella spoke airily. ‘You’re not married? Titus says you’re very clever.’
Aldrik had given them their drinks and Arabella settled against the cushions, aware that the dress was falling in very satisfactory folds around her person. After all, that was what she had paid for...
‘No, I’m not married. I have refused offers of marriage many times; my work is very important to me.’ She spoke sharply. Here was this plain girl asking her patronising questions. ‘Has Titus never spoken of me to you?’
‘Well, no. What I mean is, I dare say he might have mentioned you—just to remark on your cleverness, you know. We have so many shared interests—nothing to do with his work or hospital.’
‘I have come this evening so that I may continue to exchange views with Titus.’
‘What a good idea. It’s a pity you don’t see more of each other.’ She looked up as Cressida joined them.
‘Getting to know each other?’ she wanted to know. ‘I’m sorry we haven’t got a man for you, Geraldine, but it was such short notice.’
‘I do not mind. It is Titus I wish to talk to.’
‘Very well, why not? But shall we dine first?’
Arabella ate asparagus, coq au vin and chocolate and orange mousse piled high with whipped cream, and it all tasted the same—of nothing. Her keen dislike of Geraldine had taken away her appetite although she talked and laughed as everyone else did. Geraldine tended to carry on in a tedious fashion about herself, her aims and her ambitions and theories. They went back to the drawing-room for coffee and presently Geraldine suggested that she and Titus should have a quiet talk.
Arabella overheard her. ‘I’m sure Titus is anxious to hear your views.’ She gave him a smile as bright as a dagger’s edge and he blinked at it before saying smoothly,
‘Indeed I am, if you don’t mind, Cressida? We don’t want to inflict medical matters upon you.’
‘Use my study,’ said Aldrik. ‘There’ll be more coffee presently.’
When they had gone Cressida went up to the nursery to make sure that the twins were sleeping. ‘I’m sorry that Geraldine invited herself here this evening,’ said Aldrik, ‘she’s heavy-going.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘I’ll suggest driving her back as soon as we’ve had some more coffee.’
‘It’s very nice,’ said Arabella carefully, ‘that Titus has met someone he enjoys talking to. I mean, I don’t know anything about hospitals and medicine...’
‘Nor does Cressida—you have no idea what a blessing and a joy it is to come home each evening to someone who doesn’t know ichthyosis from nettle-rash...’
‘I do know what nettle-rash is!’ said Arabella. They were laughing about that as Titus and Geraldine came back into the room and Aldrik rang for more coffee.
Cressida came back and they sat around drinking it, chatting idly until Aldrik said, ‘Isn’t it time you saw to the twins, my love? I’ll run Geraldine back home while you’re doing that.’
‘Don’t bother,’ said Geraldine. ‘I’ve already asked Titus to drive me back. We can finish our discussion—there hasn’t been enough time...’
Titus put down his cup. ‘Then, shall we go?’ he enquired mildly. ‘We start early tomorrow morning, do we not?’
‘Such a pity that you are only here for such a short time,’ declared Geraldine in her rather loud voice. ‘We really should meet more often...’
A little imp of mischief took over from Arabella. ‘Then why don’t you come and visit us?’ she asked, and smiled at Titus. ‘Wouldn’t that be a good idea, Titus?’
His face was inscrutable; she had no idea if he was pleased or not. ‘Oh, splendid,’ he said. ‘Shall we be going, then?’
Geraldine pecked the air above Cressida’s cheek, offered a hand to Arabella and said, ‘Tot ziens,’ to the room at large.
‘See you all later,’ said Titus as he followed her out.
Cressida and Aldrik went to the door with them and Arabella went to the window. The light from the hall streamed out into the street and she could see Titus and Geraldine standing by the car, holding a conversation in which she took no part, laughing at some joke which she couldn’t hear.
The enemy, thought Arabella. Geraldine was modern to her fingertips, attractive and determined—divorce would mean nothing to her and Titus was a prize worth having. I’m exaggerating, thought Arabella, and why do I feel like this about her? It isn’t as if I love Titus. She caught her breath, because of course that wasn’t true. She did love him; she was in love with him. She closed her eyes for a moment and when she opened them the car had gone. A good thing too, she reflected, for I might have gone outside and thumped Geraldine and flung myself at Titus.
She wanted to cry at the hopelessness of it all. Instead she stitched a smile on to her face and turned to make some cheerful remark to Cressida, unaware that she was as white as a sheet and trembling.
CHAPTER SEVEN
CRESSIDA WAS ON the point of asking Arabella if she felt ill but Aldrik touched her arm and said cheerfully, ‘Come over to the fire, Arabella. We’re going to have another cup of coffee—do have one too.’
He began to talk about the evening and then the various lectures and the seminar he and Titus were to attend. ‘Next year it will be held in London and so we shall see something of you there.’
‘You must come and stay.’ Arabella had pulled herself together. ‘We shall love to have you and the babies, of course.’
They sat for half an hour or so and since there was no sign of
Titus Arabella went to bed, to lie awake until she heard Titus’s tread long after midnight. This is a pretty kettle of fish, she told herself. Of course, now she thought about it, she had been falling in love with Titus for weeks only she hadn’t realised it. Would it have helped if she had known that before he had asked her to marry him? she wondered. She would have refused; being married to someone who didn’t love you when you loved them would be an unbearable state in which to live. One in which she now found herself. But there is no reason, she reflected, why I shouldn’t have a try at getting him to fall in love with me. The right make-up, a good hairdresser, attractive clothes, sparkling conversation and her feelings disguised under a friendly manner—but not too friendly. He must never think that she was trying to attract his attention or that she had no other interest in life but him.
A few tears escaped and trickled down her cheeks and she wiped them away impatiently. If she was to get the better of Geraldine and her like tears would be of no use. Suddenly full of determination to get the better of the enemy, Arabella went to sleep.
The men had already breakfasted and gone when she went down to breakfast with Cressida. ‘I’ve been awake for hours,’ said Cressida pouring their coffee. ‘Aldrik read his paper to me—he always does, not that I understand any of it. He says it will bring him luck, not that he needs it. Did Titus wake you up to listen to his paper?’ She didn’t wait for an answer. ‘We’re a captive audience, aren’t we?’
‘I expect he’s breaking me in gently,’ said Arabella lightly. ‘Do the twins let you sleep all night?’
‘Oh, yes. Once or twice I’ve had to feed them in the small hours but now they’re bigger they usually sleep right through until six o’clock. Aldrik’s awfully good—we don’t disturb Nanny and by the time they’ve settled the morning tea arrives.’ She poured more coffee. ‘Tell me, what did you think of Geraldine?’ She grinned. ‘You don’t need to be polite.’
Arabella buttered some toast. ‘I didn’t like her. Far too handsome for one thing and so pleased with herself. All that bosom too...’
Cressida laughed. ‘Frightful, isn’t she? She’s brilliantly clever, though. Aldrik can’t stand her but even he admits that he admires her brain.’ She glanced at Arabella. ‘Did Titus give you his opinion? She kept him long enough—we heard him come in last night.’
‘Yes, he was very late—I do hope he didn’t disturb you.’ She added for good measure, ‘He was far too tired to talk about her.’
‘You’ll get the lot—chapter and verse. That’s what’s so nice about being married, telling each other things you would never dream of telling anyone else.’
Arabella agreed so quietly that Cressida made haste to talk about something else. ‘If you would like to go sightseeing Nanny will have the twins until lunchtime. We might take a look round the town—there’s the university and the Pieterskerk and the Rapenburg Canal. We can see the hospital from there too. There’s Breestraat and the Town Hall and the St Anna Almshouses...’
‘All in one morning?’
‘Well, it will be a quick peek here and there but better than nothing. We must find time for coffee at Rotisserie Oude Leyden too...’
The morning was passed pleasantly and rather to their surprise the men came home for lunch.
‘We didn’t expect you,’ said Cressida, lifting her face for a kiss. ‘But now you’re here we’re very pleased.’
‘We decided that the whole day without seeing either of you would be too long. What have you done with yourselves?’
They came home again soon after six o’clock that evening, and without Geraldine. Arabella, curling up in bed that night, thought with pleasure of the cosy evening—a delightful dinner and then sitting round the fire in the drawing-room talking about everything under the sun. Titus had kissed her with a sudden and unexpected warmth when she had gone upstairs with Cressida. Of course it might have been because the others were there watching them but she didn’t think that he would pretend to something he didn’t feel. They were going out on the following evening, she remembered sleepily. She would wear one of her new dresses...
* * *
She was glad that she had chosen to wear the pink dress for they drove to den Haag where they dined at the Bistroquet—small and exclusive and, she guessed, wildly expensive. Afterwards they went to Scheveningen, to the Steigenberger Kurhaus, to dance and visit the casino. Titus had bought her some chips and she had tried her luck and won, and so had Cressida. She would have liked to put her winnings back on the table but the men had swept them back to dance. It had been a lovely evening and she had spent a good deal of it in Titus’s arms dancing and, just for the moment, happy.
The next day was their last, with a formal banquet in the evening, and Arabella was glad that she had packed the green velvet. Inspecting her person before she went downstairs to join the others, she decided that she looked like a consultant’s wife. She wished that Titus had given her a necklace as she fastened the double row of pearls her father had given to her on her eighteenth birthday. They were good ones and of course her engagement ring was everything a girl could wish for...
‘Oh, very nice,’ said Cressida as she went into the drawing-room. She looked quite delightful herself in a smoky grey taffeta dress. She wore a diamond necklace and an exquisite bracelet—Arabella caught a glimpse of them as Aldrik wrapped her lovingly in an angora wrap.
Titus held her evening cloak with the impersonal courtesy which he might have afforded an elderly aunt... Arabella, suddenly angry, thanked him politely, her cheeks pink. He might at least pretend.
Titus, watching her from under his heavy lids, thought what a very pretty girl she had become in the few weeks of their marriage. It was the clothes, he supposed. When they got back to England he would look around for some jewellery for her. He felt a surge of delight at the sight of her and bent to kiss her cheek, an action which pleased Cressida, who, in the privacy of their bedroom, had informed Aldrik that their guests didn’t behave in the least like a newly married couple.
‘My dear love,’ her husband had observed, ‘you cannot judge others by our own experience. Probably they—er—let themselves go when they are alone, just as we do.’
The banquet was a grand affair and very formal. Arabella had never seen so many large elderly gentlemen in black ties, smoking cigars and tossing off tiny glasses of genever, nor had she seen so many dignified ladies with severe hairstyles and large bosoms encased in black satin. There were younger people there, of course, but they were swamped by the senior members of the university and the hospital. They were nice, she discovered, these self-assured dignitaries, and Titus seemed to know all of them. She was handed round and smiled at and patted and told how glad they were to see dear Dr Tavener married to such a charming little wife.
She sat next to a younger man at dinner, with an older man on her other side, both of whom made much of her so that her lovely eyes sparkled and her face glowed—not entirely with pleasure, though. Titus, she noted, had Geraldine on his right on the opposite side of the long table. Geraldine, she had to admit, looked strikingly handsome in peacock-blue chiffon. A pity there was to be no dancing, she reflected. As it was, they sat for a long time over dinner and then listened for even longer to a succession of speeches—some in English but most of them in Dutch. It was hard to maintain a look of interest. When they rose at last little groups were formed while, coffee-cups or glasses in hand, people wandered from one to the other. The men were for the most part serious—swapping diagnoses, she supposed, listening with an air of great interest to an elderly professor detailing the history of the university to her.
It was as they were preparing to leave that she came face to face with Geraldine. ‘Oh, there you are.’ Her voice was patronising. ‘I have hardly spoken to you all evening, have I?’ She smiled in a self-satisfied manner and swirled the chiffon to show it to its best advantage. ‘Titus and I h
ave had a delightful evening—you don’t mind, do you? We have known each other...’
Arabella interrupted her. ‘Any friend of Titus’s is a friend of mine,’ she said sweetly, ‘and do remember that we shall be delighted to see you if ever you come to England. Perhaps your work keeps you here, though?’
‘No, no. I am well-known both in England and the States, as well as in Europe.’ She gave a satisfied little laugh. ‘I am free to take a holiday when I wish.’
‘How nice,’ said Arabella. ‘It’s been pleasant meeting you. We’re going home tomorrow but of course Titus will have told you... So I’ll say goodbye.’
Geraldine offered a hand. ‘Shall we not say, tot ziens? That means—’
‘Yes, I know what it means. I must go—I can see Cressida waiting for me.’
There was no sign of Titus. ‘A good thing he came in his own car,’ said Cressida. ‘He’s driving Geraldine back. Why that woman can’t drive her own car beats me—anyone would think that she had already asked—’ She stopped as Aldrik squeezed her arm.
‘The trouble with Geraldine is that given an inch she takes an ell.’ He took Arabella’s arm. ‘Did you enjoy your evening? It was all a bit serious, I’m afraid.’
‘I enjoyed myself,’ said Arabella, her eyes sparkling with temper. ‘What a handsome lot of professors and medical people you’ve got living here.’
‘Indeed, yes. I have to keep a tight rein on Cressy when we come to these gatherings; she’s inclined to fall for bearded professors!’
‘If you ever grow a beard I shall leave you,’ declared Cressida as they went out to the car. ‘When we get home I shall make a big pot of tea and we can drink it in the kitchen while we tear the women’s dresses to pieces. There was one—you must have seen it, Arabella—purple crushed velvet, very tight in the wrong places...’
On this light-hearted note the evening ended, but although she sat for some time, drinking tea out of mugs and discussing the evening, there was no sign of Titus.