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Fate takes a hand

Page 9

by Betty Neels


  `Who is spreading tales about your fortune, I'd like to know?'

  `I don't suppose anyone is. I think he was trying to find out if I'd come into a lot of money.'

  Trottie snorted. 'Like his cheek, I never did like those two, Miss Lally. I remember them when they were quite small—a pair of mischief-makers, they were.'

  `Well, we don't have to bother about them, Trottie. I expect they've got jobs and won't be around much.'

  Wishful thinking. Joyce intended to stay at home for a while, declaring that her visit to the United States had unsettled her, and Victor, who had some mysterious job in Bristol, told anyone who asked him that he had been given leave in order to recover from some complaint which he didn't specify.

  They came to see Eulalia one morning, and she gave them coffee and listened politely to their colourful accounts of their stay in America, regretted when asked that she was far too busy to return their

  visit at the moment, and hoped that she had seen the last of them. But they came again, and then Victor took to coming on his own and, never mind if she was gardening or busy about the cottage, he stood around, getting in her way until she begged him as nicely as possible not to call so often.

  He had laughed that off with a speaking look. 'Oh, look, now Eulalia, we're old friends. I'm keen to resume our friendship and go a bit further.'

  Her grey eyes flashed. 'That's a very silly remark; we never were friends, or have you forgotten? The odd game of tennis, seeing each other in other people's houses from time to time—so there's nothing to resume and certainly no reason for you to "go a bit further", whatever you may mean by that.'

  `I'm thinking of settling down, Lally, and I've decided that I might marry you.'

  `Don't call me Lally, and I don't care in the least what you have decided. I wouldn't marry you if you were the last man left on earth.'

  He took it as a joke. 'Oh, come on, old girl. I'm quite a catch, you know—a fairly decent job, and there'll be some money when Mother and Father die, and until then we'll have your little nest-egg to fall back on.'

  She looked at him with horror. 'What a perfectly dreadful thing to say. What gave you the idea that you could live off what you call my "little nest-egg"? Of all the colossal cheek. Go away, Victor,

  and stop bothering me. I don't like you and I'll be obliged if you don't come here again.'

  He looked put out, but only for a moment. 'Taken you by surprise, haven't I? Think it over, Lally. Your future isn't exactly anything to get excited about, is it?'

  `Get out,' said Eulalia. 'You're so conceited you can't see when you're not wanted or liked. Don't come back, either.' As he turned to go she added, `And don't dare to call me Lally—that's only for my nearest and dearest.'

  After he'd gone she stayed in the garden for a while; it would never do to upset Trottie. She dismissed his visit lightly when that lady asked what he had wanted and it wasn't until Peter was in bed that evening that Trottie said severely, 'I would like to know now, Miss Lally, what's upset you. It's that Victor, isn't it?'

  So Eulalia told her, unaware that Peter was sitting at the top of the staircase listening to every word.

  `He's pestering me, Trottie,' said Eulalia. 'He's got the idea that I've plenty of money and he thinks he can marry me and live on it—probably he'll want to live in this cottage too. I don't know what to do.'

  Peter did, however. He crept back to bed and lay awake, his arm around Charlie. Here was a reason to write to Mr van Linssen, who had written his name and address and telephone number on a little card and given it to him when they had been in the garden together. It was a secret, he had said, just

  between the two of them, and if he was needed Peter was to write to him or telephone and he would come. `You see,' Mr van Linssen had explained, E ulalia and Trottie haven't a man to look after them—you are a splendid help to them, but sometimes a man is needed.'

  They had shaken hands on it.

  Telephoning would be difficult but he could write a letter. He had enough money for a stamp, and when there was no one to see he took paper and an envelope from the kitchen drawer. He wrote it sitting up in bed the next night, addressed it carefully, stamped it and, when he went to the village shop with Lally after school, he posted it while she was buying the bacon Trottie wanted.

  Mr van Linssen, coming down to an early breakfast, found it beside his plate with the rest of his post and opened it first. He read the childish writing, frowning, and then giving a snort of laughter at Peter's urgent PS begging him to come quickly and marry his aunt Lally before Victor could!

  He put the letter aside then and read the rest of his mail, applied himself to his breakfast and went to his study where he rang his secretary. That highly efficient lady listened to him without comment and then said, 'Well, Mr van Linssen, I'll do my best. You're due at the hospital in half an hour and I presume you will be there for most of the day. I'll contact your private patients with appointments for to-

  morrow morning and arrange for them to come on the following day or this evening. You have an outpatients clinic tomorrow afternoon at five o'clock.'

  He thought for a moment. 'Do that, will you? I should be back some time during the late afternoon. I'll phone you then. Let me know later on how many patients will be coming this evening, will you?'

  Dodge bowed a sorrowful head when he was told that his master would require breakfast at seven o'clock on the following morning. 'I need to go to the country, Dodge, but I should be back around four o' clock.'

  `As you say, sir. May I remind you that you are taking Miss Kendall to lunch tomorrow?'

  Mr van Linssen swore powerfully in his own language. 'Ring her, will you, Dodge? Tell her that I've been called away on urgent business.'

  Dodge's voice was as mournful as it always was, but he hid a pleased smile. Miss Kendall didn't like him; indeed, he thought it likely that when she married Mr van Linssen she would see that he was dismissed. An observant man, he thought he had detected a certain reluctance on the part of Mr van Linssen to join in any of the social activities which his fiancée found so vital to her enjoyment of life. She would certainly be extremely put out, he reflected with relish, closing the door after his master.

  Mr van Linssen worked his way through the day, operating all the morning, doing a ward round in the afternoon and then going straight to his consulting-

  rooms to see his private patients. It was almost eight o'clock by the time he put the key in his front door, to be met by Dodge with the observation that dinner would be on the table in twenty minutes or so, and would he like a drink at once?

  `Give me ten minutes. I'll have a shower and change. No messages?'

  `No, sir. I telephoned Miss Kendall and apprised her of the situation.'

  `And?'

  `She was a little put out, if I may say so, but will telephone you tomorrow evening.'

  Mr van Linssen grunted a reply and took himself off upstairs, to come down presently, have a drink and eat his dinner, and now that he was free from his work he applied himself to the problem of Eulalia. She was becoming a liability, he told himself, and was quite old enough to take care of herself, but Peter's letter couldn't be ignored. It was best that he went to Brokenwell and saw what was happening for himself. Victor might be quite a decent chap, to whom Peter had taken a dislike, probably at the idea of his aunt getting married.

  The September morning held a touch of chilliness as he got into his car and drove away. It was eight o'clock and the morning traffic was building up, but once he was free of the suburbs he sent the Bentley surging ahead. It was good to be free of London, even if only for a few hours, and it would be good to see Eulalia again, tiresome girl though she was.

  He slowed the car through the village street very soon after ten o'clock and stopped before Ivy Cottage. The door was open and Trottie was polishing the brass knocker. Her nice elderly face creased into a wide smile as he got out. 'Well, I never did. Now, isn't this nice, and just in time for a cup of coffe
e. Peter's at school but Miss Lally's in the garden.' The smile went for a moment. 'That Victor's with her again. It don't matter what she says, he pesters her something shocking. Keep the front door locked and he climbs the fence into the back garden, if you please.'

  Mr van Linssen bent to kiss her cheek. `Ah, Victor—I hoped that I would meet him.'

  `Is that why you're here? How did you know?'

  `I think that had better be a secret, Miss Trott. Do

  you suppose that I might go into the garden?'

  `You do that, my love. I don't doubt Miss Lally

  will be glad to see you.'

  `The lesser of two evils?' suggested Mr van Linssen with a smile, and opened the back door.

  Lally was at the bottom of the garden, picking the last of the apples, and Victor was leaning against a tree, facing the cottage, so that he saw Mr van Linssen first. Eulalia, who had been telling him in a forthright manner just what she thought of him, saw the look of surprise on his face and turned round to look herself. Mr van Linssen, treading lightly despite his size, was within a foot of her.

  Before he could speak he had reached her, put a

  great arm round her shoulders and said breezily, `Lally, my dear, I intended to phone you when I got back, but I thought I would surprise you.' He dropped a kiss on her cheek for good measure. 'Is this by any chance Victor, who has been so tiresome in his attentions?' He shook his head slowly. 'Really, young man, you must know by now that they are unwelcome. I suggest, in the friendliest manner, mind you, that you leave Eulalia alone—you mustn't poach on another man's preserves, you know.'

  He smiled in a kindly way, aware of Eulalia bursting with rage at being called a preserve. 'I take it you understand me?' He was still smiling but his eyes were like cold steel, and Victor muttered that he was just going anyway.

  `Good, good, and stay away, won't you?' suggested Mr van Linssen in the silkiest of voices. 'I trust that I have made myself plain?'

  Victor mumbled again and hurried away, to be met at the kitchen door and ushered out of the cottage without waste of time by Trottie, who had been watching from the kitchen window. It was a pity that she had been unable to hear what had been said, but no doubt Miss Lally would tell her later. She took a newly baked cake out of the pantry and set it on the kitchen table with the coffee-cups, humming cheerfully.

  Eulalia and Mr van Linssen watched Victor hurry away before she turned to face him. He spoke first. `I must apologise for referring to you as my pre-

  serve—it seemed the best way of making that oaf understand.'

  Having cut the ground neatly from under her feet, he waited quietly for her to speak. 'Yes, well, it did annoy me. It made me sound like a—a...'

  `Preserve? Make no mistake, Eulalia, I could never think of you in that light. What a tiresome fellow he is.'

  `Tiresome? Tiresome?' She was still angry and humiliated at having been found and taken by surprise. 'He's been the bane of my life.' She added defiantly, 'I've never encouraged him...'

  `Well, no, I don't doubt that.' His tone was dry and she looked at him.

  `Why are you here?'

  `The warmth of your welcome flatters me, Eulalia!'

  She went pink. 'I do beg your pardon, that was dreadfully rude. I'm a bit upset.' She gave a great sniff and looked away. 'Do you suppose he'll stay away from me now?'

  `Yes. I think that I have given him to understand that I, have—er—a prior claim.'

  The pink which was ebbing away came flooding back. 'That's nonsense.'

  `Of course it is. We must not forget that I am to be married at some future date, but this Victor doesn't need to know that, does he?'

  `Well, it was very kind of you to—to pretend...' She paused and went on in a polite voice. 'I am most

  grateful to you, Mr van Linssen. Perhaps you would like a cup of coffee?'

  `Thank you.' They started walking towards the kitchen door. 'Tell me, how is Peter enjoying his school?'

  `He loves it, and he loves Charlie—the puppy. Trottie's got him in the sitting-room because he tried to bite Victor the other day.'

  `Ah! I thought he was an intelligent dog when I got him!'

  It seemed important to keep some sort of a conversation going. 'Do you have a dog?'

  `Yes, in Holland. I live there for the greater part of the year.'

  They had paused at the kitchen door. 'Do you?' asked Eulalia blankly. 'I thought you lived in London.'

  He answered her gravely. 'When I am over here working, yes, I do.'

  For some reason she felt snubbed, but some contrary imp moved her to ask, 'So Miss Kendall will live in Holland. Will she like that?'

  He only smiled at her, so that she felt even more snubbed than before. Well, it had been silly of her to ask questions. She lifted her chin and invited him into the cottage.

  The coffee was already on the table, and so was one of Trottie's cakes, already cut into generous slices. She poured his coffee, offered him cake and

  asked artlessly, 'Having a bit of a holiday, Mr van Linssen?'

  `No, no, just a morning off. London is a delightful city, but now and again a breath of country air is pleasant.' He turned to Eulalia. 'Do you suppose that if I were to drive over to Peter's school I might be allowed to see him for a few minutes?'

  `I don't know. They're a bit strict about strangers—not that you're a stranger, but they wouldn't know that.'

  `In that case, perhaps you would phone them from the car and vouch for me? I can't come all this way without seeing him.'

  They went out to the car presently and she phoned the headmaster and explained. 'And please don't tell Peter. Mr van Linssen would like to surprise him.'

  So he went away shortly after that, saying that he'd call in to say goodbye on his way back, refusing Trottie's offer of steak and kidney pudding and one of her apple pies with real regret.

  He was back within the hour, to stay only long enough to thank Trottie for the coffee and cake and express his hope to Eulalia that she would no longer be bothered by Victor's unwelcome attentions.

  She brushed that aside. 'You saw Peter? He was surprised?'

  He looked down at her pretty face, smiling a little. `He seemed glad to see me. He looks very well. Country air suits him. It suits you too, Eulalia.'

  He stood, still looking at her, and she thought with

  a pleasant little thrill that he was going to kiss her. He didn't, however, but got into the Bentley and drove away.

  CHAPTER SIX

  `WERE you surprised to see Mr van Linssen?' Eulalia asked Peter when he got home from school that afternoon.

  `Yes, I was, but I did know he'd come and see me again, Aunt Lally.' He gave her a guileless look.

  Mr van Linssen had told him that he had done quite the right thing in writing to him: Tor your aunt Lally mustn't be bothered by uncouth fellows like this Victor. Remember, Peter, that I will always come if you or she needs me.' He had smiled at the small trusting face lifted to his. 'You're happy here? I saw Charlie—he looks splendid, and Blossom is just the right companion for him.' He had told Mr van Linssen that he was very happy, adding that sometimes his aunt Lally looked sad.

  `I suppose you can't do anything about that?' he had asked.

  Mr van Linssen had looked grave. 'I think that perhaps in time I might be able to do just that,' he had said. He had gone away then, after slipping a pound into Peter's hand.

  Of course, he wasn't going to tell Aunt Lally about their conversation, not that part of it, at any rate.

  As for Trottie, she kept her own counsel. Gentlemen, especially those who had important jobs and were engaged to be married, didn't drive miles just to drink her coffee and eat her cake and arrive just when they were most needed... Someone had told him about Victor. She glanced at Peter, sitting at the table, doing sums. When presently Eulalia said suddenly, 'How did Mr van Linssen know about Victor?' she sounded suspicious.

  Trottie said comfortably, 'The world's a small place, love. I dare say h
e met up with someone from round about here who mentioned it—you know what people are—and the rector was in London a week or so ago. Probably they go to the same club.'

  A most unlikely thing, but since Eulalia knew as little about London clubs as Trottie did she agreed readily enough.

  As for Mr van Linssen, he drove himself back to London, had the tea the faithful Dodge had ready for him, changed from country tweeds into sober grey suiting and equally sober silk tie, and took himself off to his clinic in Outpatients. He was invariably pleasant and very civil to those who worked with and for him, but today there was a warmth in his manner which surprised them. Outpatients Sister, a comfortable fortyish woman and married, remarked on it to her staff nurse.

  `Perhaps he's in love.'

  `Out of the question. He's engaged to that hoity-

  toity young woman who came last Christmas to see the decorations. A toffee-nosed creature she was, too.'

  `He could still have fallen in love,' said the staff nurse shrewdly.

  `And serve her right,' observed Sister.

  Mr van Linssen was home again by seven o'clock, in time to change yet again, this time into a black tie, since he was invited with Ursula to a dinner party with some friends of hers. He had no wish to go, but he had seen very little of her lately and he must make amends.

  She was looking particularly charming that evening in a dress of bright blue, the colour of her eyes, cut very low, which was a mistake, for her figure was what she described as boyish and the dress did nothing for her flat chest. Whatever Mr van Linssen's thoughts were about it he didn't give voice to them, but expressed a liking for the colour of the dress and suggested that they should be on their way.

  `I've not had you to myself for days,' pouted Ursula, offering a cheek for his kiss, 'and do be careful of my hair, Fenno...'

 

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