by Betty Neels
`Aunt Lally will be pleased. I'll tell her.'
`Maybe I'll come along some time and explain it to her. Now we must go back.'
`Are you very busy?' asked Peter, as they went back to the car.
`Not this morning, but this afternoon I'm going to operate.'
`Oh, I'd like to watch you.'
`So you shall, when you are a medical student and I'm grey-haired and elderly.'
Peter laughed at that. 'With a beard and floppy moustache and specs!'
`I do wear spectacles occasionally,' said Mr van Linssen apologetically.
He didn't stay when they reached the flat. 'Everything's just as it should be, Miss Trott,' he said. 'I'll let your doctor know how things are, and I've no doubt he will get in touch with Miss Warburton.' He sounded all at once very like a medical man, kind in a distant manner, but quite impersonal.
When Eulalia got home that evening she listened first of all to Peter's excited account of his visit to the hospital, and then to Trottie. Everything was all right, it seemed, and she was grateful to Mr van Linssen for taking so much trouble. She had no reason to suppose that he would leave any message for her; all the same, she felt a vague disappointment.
The weather turned suddenly wet and chilly, which meant that on Sunday, instead of their usual trip to
one or other of the parks, she and Peter took a long bus ride, sitting on the front seat on top, sharing a bag of buns and pointing out everything which took their attention. And on Monday Peter went back to school.
It was halfway through the week when Mr van Linssen walked into the flower shop. Eulalia was alone, for it was the lunch-hour and Mrs Pearce had gone home for a while, leaving her to eat her sandwiches and get on with making bouquets for yet another wedding. She sighed as the doorbell tinkled, hoping it was someone who knew what they wanted and wouldn't keep her for minutes on end while they decided what to do. She put down the roses in her hands and went into the shop.
Mr van Linssen, looming over the floral displays, looked larger than ever and bad-tempered to boot.
Eulalia went delightfully pink, and to cover her sudden shyness said, 'Good afternoon, more yellow roses?'
It annoyed her then that she felt shy; from his forbidding appearance he had no recollection of kissing her, and certainly when he spoke it was quite without warmth, ignoring her remark.
`It is only proper that I should inform you of the result of Peter's X-ray, Miss Warburton, and as I was passing this way it seemed as good an opportunity as any at which to do it.'
`It's all right? Trottie said—'
`It is perfectly satisfactory. He must return for a new plaster in three weeks' time and continue to wear it for a further few weeks. He must use his hand normally. Do not get it wet, of course, and if it aches at all there is no reason why he shouldn't have a sling.'
`Thank you for telling me. I really am most grateful.'
He nodded impatiently. `Do you not close the shop for your lunch-hour?'
`Heavens, no. Lots of customers come between one and two o'clock.'
`When do you take your lunch-hour?'
`Well, I don't. I mean, I have sandwiches and eat them when there's time.'
`The owner?'
What a lot of questions, thought Eulalia. 'Oh, Mrs Pearce goes home. She has a husband to feed, and she has to see wholesalers and so on—it's convenient to do that over lunch.'
His growl was so fierce that she wondered what she had said to annoy him. A quick-tempered man, no doubt. 'You will be good enough to send some flowers to Miss Kendall. What do you suggest?'
`Well, it depends, doesn't it? If it's just a loving gesture, red roses are for love, aren't they? But if it's by way of saying you are sorry about something, then a mixture of flowers—roses and carnations and some of those lilies there and an orchid or two...'
`Perhaps you will make up a bouquet and have it sent round?'
`A large bouquet? Any particular flowers?' No. Make your own choice. I'll write a card.'
She watched him scrawl on the card and put it in
its envelope.
`It's a waste of money,' she told him cheerfully. `Miss Kendall threw the yellow roses at me, you know.'
`Indeed?' He gave her a bland look. 'Don't you have a delivery boy?'
`Good heavens, no, that would be eating the profits.'
`You enjoy your work, Miss Warburton?'
`I like flowers and arranging them.'
`But you do not enjoy living in London and working in this shop?'
It wasn't really a question, just stating a fact, and she wasn't sure how to answer him. 'I'm glad to have a job.' She added with sudden asperity, 'And I can't think what business it is of yours.'
`Upon reflection, nor can I. Good day to you.'
He shut the door gently behind him as he left.
`High-handed,' said Eulalia loudly, 'as well as bad-tempered. If I hadn't disliked that Miss Kendall on sight, I'd be sorry for her.'
It was almost the end of the following week when Peter rushed to meet her when she got home. 'Aunt Lally, oh, Aunt Lally, something splendid—Mr van
Linssen's going to take me round his hospital on Sunday afternoon. He knows I'm going to be a surgeon like him and he said I deserved a treat because I've been a good boy. Do say I can go—he says he'll fetch me in his car and bring me back.'
Eulalia took off her jacket and kicked her shoes from her tired feet.
`Darling, when did he say all this?'
`He stopped here on his way home and he said he was sorry you weren't here but he hoped you'd let me go with him. Two o'clock,' added Peter.
She looked down at the eager little face. He didn't have many treats. His small school-friends had fathers and mothers who took them to fun-fairs and the zoo, and in the summer to the sea for a holiday, but he had never voiced a wish to do that, although she was quite sure that he longed to do the same. She might not like Mr van Linssen, but for some reason or other she trusted him. She said at once, `Darling, how lovely. Of course you can go, and how kind of Mr van Linssen to ask you. Did you thank him?'
`Yes, of course I did, but I said I'd have to ask you first.'
`Well, I think it's a splendid idea. How are you going to let him know?'
`He said he'd be driving past tomorrow morning and it's Saturday so I'll be here.' He lifted a happy face to her. 'Won't it be fun?' His face clouded.
`Only, what will you do, Aunt Lally? Because Trottie's going to her friend's for dinner...'
Eulalia glanced across to the table, where Trottie was arranging knives and forks and spoons. 'I've so many odd jobs to do—not housework, just nice little jobs like sewing on buttons and I can read the
Sunday papers.'
Trottie's eyes were on her face, and for a moment it seemed as though she would speak, but she only smiled. 'Sounds nice and peaceful to me,' she said finally. 'Dear knows you don't get much time to yourself.'
`You must remember every single thing you see,' said Eulalia, as they sat down to their supper.
Sunday came with blue skies and bright sunshine, and the three of them went to church before Trottie went to catch her bus. 'There's everything ready for your dinner,' she told them. 'Be sure and have it early so's not to keep Mr van Linssen waiting. I'll be back around seven o'clock, same as usual.'
It was a nice dinner but Peter was too excited to eat much. He was ready and waiting for a long time before two o'clock. 'Perhaps he won't come,' he said, for the tenth time.
`He said two o'clock, dear, so don't worry— there's still ten minutes left.'
He came five minutes later and she went to open the door to him.
Her, 'Good afternoon, Mr van Linssen,' was coolly polite. 'This is very kind of you.'
He stood looking at her. 'A pleasure. It has struck me that it might be sensible if you were to come too.' At her frown, he added, 'There is always the small chance that I might be called away urgently and Peter cannot be left alone. Do you dislike the idea very
much?'
Upon reflection, she didn't dislike the idea at all. `I don't want to spoil Peter's afternoon.'
`Don't worry, we'll leave you somewhere in safe hands.'
A remark which ruffled her feelings. She was on the point of making a suitably telling reply when Peter joined them. 'Are we ready? What a pity you can't come with us, Aunt Lally.'
`She is coming,' said Mr van Linssen, and shut the door.
`Do go and fetch whatever you need to fetch. Peter and I will plan our route round the hospital—you can have five minutes.'
Her eyes sparkled with temper. 'I don't—' she began with dignity. She caught his eye then. It was very compelling. She mumbled, 'All right, I won't be long.'
Thank heaven she hadn't changed out of the dress she had worn to church; she had intended to get into an old cotton dress and turn out a few cupboards. She 'brushed her hair, powdered her nose, added some more lipstick, found her bag and went back to
the living-room. The pair of them were crouched over a large sheet of paper spread out on the table. A plan of the hospital, she supposed.
`Won't anyone mind?' she asked, as she got into the back of the car. 'Us walking round?'
Not if you are with me,' he told her gravely.
They went to Casualty first, for once almost empty, and then to the outpatients' hall, before taking the lift to the first floor to inspect each ward in turn, and in each one he introduced them to the ward sister. 'Friends of mine,' he explained, which she found rather high-handed of him. She hardly knew him, and what conversation they had engaged in had hardly been of a friendly nature.
When they reached the theatre block she was left with Theatre Sister in her office and given a cup of tea while Peter, speechless with excitement, was taken to see one of the operating theatres. They were gone a long time, and when they got back Mr van Linssen had a cup of tea too, and Peter a glass of lemonade. Somehow Eulalia hadn't thought of the operating theatre allied to cups of tea. Sister's office was quite cosy, too, and she was young and pretty and obviously Mr van Linssen's slave.
She was one of the junior sisters, she had confided to Eulalia. The theatre superintendent, an awesome lady who ruled the theatres with a rod of iron, only scrubbed for major surgery and always for Mr van Linssen. 'There are two other sisters, but we aren't allowed to scrub for him, more's the pity. He's quite
a dish, isn't he? Going to get married soon—he never talks about it, though.'
They went unhurriedly back through the hospital and into Casualty once more, where Mr van Linssen explained with patience exactly what happened to a patient when he arrived, answering Peter's endless questions with apparent tirelessness.
They got back into the car presently and he said casually, 'I hope you will both come and have tea questionswith me. I'm sure Peter hasn't finished with his
...?'
`Tea?' asked Peter. 'Oh, please.' He turned to look at Eulalia. 'Aunt Lally, can we go?'
It was impossible to refuse without being rude and spoiling the day for Peter. 'That would be nice,' she said pleasantly, and caught him looking at her in his side mirror.
She had supposed that they would go to one of the cafés in any of the parks, but instead he kept to the streets, their surroundings becoming more elegant with every minute. When he stopped before his house and got out and opened her door, she got out too, and stood looking at his house.
`You live here?' she asked.
`Yes. Very convenient for my work.' He went off to help Peter out, locked the doors and ushered them across the pavement and in through the door being held open by Dodge.
`I've brought some friends for tea, Dodge, if you would let us have it shortly.'
Peter held out his hand. 'How do you do, Mr Dodge? I'm Peter.'
Dodge shook his hand carefully. 'How do you do, Peter? I see you've been in the wars.'
`Miss Warburton and her cousin Peter, Dodge.' And Mr van Linssen smiled a little as Eulalia shook hands too.
CHAPTER THREE
EULALIA gave a small sigh as she went into the drawing-room. It was a long room, taking up the whole of one side of the little house, with a bay window at its front and doors opening on to the little garden at the back. It was furnished very much to her taste, with comfortable chairs, an enormous sofa before the hearth, splendid rugs on the polished wood floor, and mulberry silk curtains blending nicely with the chair-covers. There were little lamp-tables too, arranged just where they were needed, and a handsome bureau cabinet in marquetry. She knew a little about good furniture; this she thought was probably a William and Mary piece. It went very well with the cabinet of walnut with floral marquetry on the other side of the hearth, which was of the same period. She might not see eye to eye with her host, but she had to admit that he had excellent taste in furniture.
The doors to the garden were open and Peter had gone at once to look at it. 'Have a look round, Peter,' invited Mr van Linssen, and to Eulalia, 'Please sit down—tea will be here in a few moments. I hope we haven't spoilt your afternoon.'
She sat. 'No, I enjoyed it. It was very kind of you to give Peter a treat.'
`You have his sole charge?' he asked idly. 'Guardian to a small boy is no easy matter.'
`There wasn't anyone else,' she said simply. 'At least, the solicitor couldn't trace anyone from his father's family, and my cousin was an only child whose parents had died. I didn't even know her. Peter's a dear little boy. Trottie and I often wonder how we lived without him.'
`He's hell-bent on living in the country...'
`I know, and we will one day. I don't know how, but we will. Do you like the country, Mr van Linssen?'
`Yes—it' s an entirely different way of living, isn't
it?'
He talked on, putting her at her ease, slipping in a question here and there, and she, lulled by his quiet friendliness, answered readily.
Dodge came in presently and spread a magnificent tea on the table by the doors. 'The young gentleman will be more at ease sitting at the table,' he explained, and went away to fetch the teapot.
Peter came in from the garden. 'There's a cat in the garden, sitting on a chair,' he told them breathlessly. 'I stroked him and he purred. Aunt Lally, couldn't we have a cat?'
`That will be Mabel, Dodge's cat,' said Mr van Linssen. 'I expect it wouldn't be quite safe to have a cat at Cromwell Road, Peter all that traffic rush-
ing to and fro. I should wait until you get to the country.'
Eulalia frowned. Talking so much about the country wasn't much help. That she was determined to get there one day was a fact, but he made it sound as though it was a certainty in the not so distant future.
Peter nodded cheerfully and applied himself to his tea. Dodge, despite his sombre appearance, had a warm heart; there were sandwiches, strips of hot buttered toast, buttered scones, chocolate biscuits and a fruit-cake. Peter worked his way steadily through them all, and Eulalia, since she was hungry, saw no point in being lacking in appetite. There was a good deal of her to nourish, after all. Mr van Linssen, long ago resigned to his Ursula's finicky ways and professed inability to eat any but the choicest of foods, derived a good deal of amused pleasure from her unselfconscious enjoyment.
He was an excellent host, although he had no great love for social occasions; he talked of this and that, drank several cups of tea and ate a scone he didn't want, and had to admit to himself that he was enjoying his afternoon. He had refused an invitation to go with Ursula to friends in the country for the weekend, pleading pressure of work. Well, he had had a busy week, and to spend his free Sunday, before beginning on an even busier one, in the company of Ursula's friends with whom he had little in common, would have given him little pleasure.
They were still sitting round the table while Peter ate the last chocolate biscuit, when the doorknocker was thumped, and a moment later Dodge opened the door, to be thrust aside by Miss Kendall.
`Darling, how naughty of you, I do believe—' She stopped. 'What on earth is she doing
here? It's the girl from the flower shop, isn't it? And that boy.' Her charming smile turned to tight-lipped offence. 'I came back early, thinking you might like to spend the evening with me, but I can see it's not necessary.'
She turned her back on Eulalia and Peter. 'You said you were going to be busy over the weekend.' She tossed her head and added spitefully, 'With this shop girl,I suppose.'
Mr van Linssen had risen to his feet, listening impassively to this outburst. 'My dear Ursula, shall we overlook this little outburst?' His voice was quiet and cool. 'This is Miss Warburton, who works in the flower shop as you already know, and this is her cousin Peter. We have spent an hour or so at the hospital, a reward for his pluck when he broke his arm recently.'
Peter had left his chair too and had come to stand by him, and now he held out a small hand. 'How do you do?' he said, mindful of Eulalia's teaching of good manners.
Miss Kendall ignored the hand, and after a moment Peter let it fall and turned a puzzled look on
Eulalia. She sat, outwardly serene, inwardly seething, waiting to see what would happen next.
Mr van Linssen, apparently untroubled by his fiancée's ill humour, put an arm around Peter's bony shoulders, for he had seen the boy's lip tremble. He said now, 'I don't know when I have had such a delightful afternoon, Peter. We must do it again sometime.'
Oh, no, we won't, reflected Eulalia, and caught his eye. He smiled at her, knowing exactly what she was thinking, and she frowned at him. 'We have indeed had a lovely time, Mr van Linssen, but I think we should be getting home now.'
`Of course.' He turned to Ursula, sulking in a chair. 'Coming with us, Ursula?'
`Whatever for? I'll wait here, and when you get back you can take me out for a meal. I've had a very boring weekend.'
`Just as you like.' He watched as Eulalia and Peter wished her goodbye, only to be ignored, and then ushered them out to the car while Dodge stood at the street door. They wished him goodbye too, and Eulalia said, 'It was a lovely tea,' and smiled at him very sweetly.