by Betty Neels
She could have wished his goodbye to have been a little less brisk…
Mr Willis came that evening; they had known each other for a number of years and it pleased her that he was going to marry them. ‘I would have liked to have met your future husband before the wedding, Lally, but in the circumstances I quite understand that it is not possible. We had a long talk over the phone and I must say I was impressed. You are quite sure, aren’t you? He has no doubts but perhaps you have had second thoughts?’
‘Me? No, Mr Willis. I think we shall be happy together. Grandfather liked him, you know. And so do I…’
‘He will be coming the day after tomorrow? And I understand you will be returning to Holland on the day of the wedding?’
‘Yes, it all seems rather a scramble, doesn’t it? But he has commitments at the hospital which he must keep and if we don’t marry now, in the next day or so, he wouldn’t be free for some time. Tom and his wife have been very kind to me but you can understand that I don’t want to trespass on their hospitality for longer than I must.’
‘Quite so. Both you and Mr van der Leurs are old enough not to do anything impetuous.’
Eulalia agreed, reflecting that buying the rose-pink dress had been impetuous. She didn’t think that Mr van der Leurs had ever been impetuous; he would think seriously about something and once he had decided about it he would carry out whatever it was in a calm and unhurried manner…
Mr Willis went away presently after a little talk with Tom, and Eulalia went upstairs and tried on the pink dress once more…
* * *
Mr van der Leurs arrived just before midnight. Tom and Pam had become worried when he didn’t arrive during the day but Eulalia was undisturbed. ‘He said he would be here today, so he’ll come. It may be late, though. You won’t mind if I stay up and see him? We shan’t have time to talk in the morning.’
So she sat in the kitchen with Dickens for company and everyone else went to bed. She had the kettle singing on the Aga and the coffee pot keeping warm. If he was hungry she could make sandwiches or make him an omelette. The house was very quiet and she had curled up in one of the shabby armchairs, allowing her thoughts to wander.
She had lived with the Colonel ever since she had been orphaned, gone to school, lived a quiet life, had friends, gone out and about until her grandfather had lost most of his money. It had been tied up in a foreign bank which had gone bankrupt. He had then been stricken with arthritis of such a crippling nature that there was little to be done for him. It was then that she had found a job. She supposed that if Aderik hadn’t wanted to marry her she would have stayed there for the rest of her working life, living in a bedsitter, unwilling to accept Tom’s offer of help.
‘I’ll be a good wife. It will be all right once I know more about him. And we like each other.’ She addressed Dickens, sitting in his basket, and he stared at her before closing his eyes and going to sleep again.
He opened them again at the gentle knock on the door and Eulalia went to open it.
Mr van der Leurs came in quietly, dropped a light kiss on her cheek and put down his bag and his overcoat. ‘I’ve kept you from your bed, but I couldn’t get away earlier.’
‘I wasn’t sleepy. Would you like a meal? Come into the kitchen.’
‘Coffee would be fine. I won’t stay; I just wanted to make sure that everything was all right.’
She was warming milk. ‘Have you got somewhere to stay?’
‘Brown’s. I’ll be at the church at eleven o’clock. I’ve booked a table at Brown’s for all of us afterwards. I arranged that with Tom. We can collect your luggage from here later and be in plenty of time for the evening ferry.’
‘And when we get to Holland will you be able to have a few days’ holiday?’
‘A couple of days. You won’t see a great deal of me, Eulalia, but as soon as it’s possible I’ll rearrange my work so that I can be home more often.’
They sat opposite each other at the table, not saying much. She could see that he was tired and she was pleasantly sleepy. Presently he got up, put their mugs tidily in the sink and went with her to the door, put on his coat and picked up his bag. Then he stood for a minute, looking down at her.
He had no doubts about his feelings for her; he had fallen in love with her and he would love her for ever. Now all he needed was patience until she felt the same way.
He bent and kissed her, slowly and gently this time. ‘Sleep well, my dear.’
She closed the door behind him and went up to her room and ten minutes later was asleep, her last thoughts happy ones.
She was wakened by Jane with a breakfast tray.
‘Brides always have breakfast in bed, Miss Lally, and Mrs Langley says you are to eat everything and no one will disturb you until you’re dressed and ready.’
So Eulalia ate her breakfast and then, since it was her wedding day, took great pains with her hair and her face before getting into the dress and coat, relieved to see that they looked just as nice as they had done when she had bought them. And finally, with the little hat crowning her head, she went downstairs.
They were all there, waiting for her, ready to admire her and wish her well, and presently Pam and Jane and the children drove off to the church, leaving Eulalia and Tom to wait until it was time for him to get his own car from the garage and usher her into the back seat.
‘Why can’t I sit in the front with you?’ asked Eulalia.
‘Brides always sit in the back, Lally…’
The church was dimly lit, small and ancient and there were flowers. That much she noticed as they reached the porch. She clutched the little bouquet of roses which Aderik had sent that morning and took Tom’s arm as they walked down the aisle to where she could see Mr Willis and Aderik’s broad back. There was another man there too. The best man, of course. She dismissed him as unimportant and kept her eyes on Aderik. If only he would turn round…
He did, and gave her a warm, encouraging smile which made everything perfectly all right, and since there was nothing of the pomp and ceremony of a traditional wedding to distract her thoughts she listened to every word Mr Willis said and found them reassuring and somehow comforting. She wondered if Aderik was listening too and peeped up into his face. It was calm and thoughtful, and, reassured, she held out her left hand so that he could slip the ring on her finger.
Leaving the church with him, getting into the Bentley with him, she touched the ring with a careful finger, remembering the words of the marriage service. She had made promises which she must keep…
Mr van der Leurs glanced at her serious face. ‘The advantage of a quiet wedding is that one really listens, don’t you agree?’
‘Yes. I—I liked it.’
‘And you looked delightful; I am only sorry that we have to hurry away so quickly. You still have to meet my best man—an old friend, Jules der Huizma. We see a good deal of each other. He’s married to an English girl—Daisy—you’ll meet her later and I hope you’ll be friends.’
‘Do they live near you? I’m not sure where you do live…’
‘Amsterdam but I was born in Friesland and my home is there. When I can arrange some free time I’ll take you there to meet my family.’
‘It’s silly really, isn’t it? I mean, we’re married and I don’t know anything about you.’
‘True, but you know me, don’t you, Eulalia? And that’s important.’
She nodded. ‘I feel as if I’ve known you for a very long time—you know? Like very old friends who don’t often meet but know how the other one is feeling.’
Mr van der Leurs knew then that he had his heart’s desire, or most of it. Perhaps he wouldn’t have to wait too long before Eulalia fell in love with him. He would leave no stone unturned to achieve that.
The luncheon party at Brown’s hotel was all that a wedding breakfast should be—champagne, lobster patties, chicken à la king, sea bass, salads, red onion tartlets, garlic mushrooms in a cream sauce and then caramelised fruits and
ice cream and finally the wedding cake. When it was cut and Eulalia and Aderik’s health had been drunk, he made a speech, gave brief thanks and offered regret that they couldn’t stay longer and enjoy their friends’ company. Then the best man, wishing them well, said he was delighted that he would see more of them in the future.
He seemed nice, thought Eulalia, and wondered why his Daisy wasn’t with him—she must remember to ask…
Then it was time to go. She was kissed and hugged and Jane cried a little for they had been through some difficult years together. ‘But I’ll be back to see you,’ said Eulalia. ‘Aderik is often over here and I shall come with him.’
She turned and waved to the little group as they drove away. She was leaving a life she knew for an unknown future.
CHAPTER THREE
THEY travelled over to Holland on the catamaran from Harwich and were driving through the outskirts of Amsterdam before midnight. The crossing had been choppy and Eulalia was glad to be on dry land again. The lights of the city were welcoming and she felt a surge of excitement. They hadn’t talked much, though Aderik had pointed out the towns they bypassed, but there was no way of seeing them in the dark night.
They had talked about the wedding and he had promised that he would show her as much as possible of Amsterdam before he went back to his usual working day. Now he said, ‘I live in the centre of the city; we’re coming to a main street—Overtoom—which leads to one of the main squares—Leidseplein—and a little further on I’ll turn right onto the Herengracht; that’s one of the canals which circle the old part of the city. The house is in a quiet street just off the canal and has been in my family for many years.’
There was plenty to see now. The streets were still bustling with people, cafés were brightly lighted, there were trams and buses and cars. Mr van der Leurs turned into a street running beside a canal bordered by trees and lined with tall narrow houses with steep gables and important-looking front doors.
Eulalia, wide awake by now despite the lateness of the hour, said happily, ‘Oh, it’s like a painting by Pieter de Hooch…’
‘True enough since they might have been painted by him. They knew how to build in those days; all these houses are lived in still.’
He crossed a bridge and turned into a narrow street beside another, smaller canal also lined with trees and a row of gabled houses. The street was short and there was another bridge at its end, too small for cars, spanning yet another canal. It was very quiet, away from the main streets with only the bare trees stirring in the night wind, and as he stopped before the last house Eulalia asked, ‘Is this where you live?’
‘Yes. Are you very tired? I think that Ko and Katje will be waiting up for us.’
She assured him that she was wide awake as he opened her door and they crossed the street to his front door—a handsome one with an ornate transom above it—and it was now flung open wide as they mounted the two steps from the pavement.
Eulalia hadn’t known what to expect. Aderik had scarcely mentioned his home, and she had supposed that it would be a solid, comfortable house, the kind of house she imagined a successful man might live in. But this was something different. She was ushered in and the door was shut behind them before Mr van der Leurs spoke, and that in his own language to the stout, middle-aged man who had admitted them. Then he took her arm. ‘Eulalia, this is Ko, who runs our home with his wife. Come and meet everyone.’
She shook hands with Ko who welcomed her in English and then shook hands with his wife, Katje, as stout as her husband, beaming good wishes which Aderik translated. Then there was Mekke, young and buxom, adding her good wishes in hesitant English, and lastly Wim, a small, wizened man ‘who has been in the family for as long as I can remember’, said Mr van der Leurs. ‘He drives the car when I’m not around and sees to the garden.’ He looked around him. ‘Where is Humbert?’
They had taken the precaution, explained Ko, of putting him in the garden in case mevrouw was nervous of dogs.
Aderik looked at her. ‘Are you nervous of dogs, Eulalia?’
‘No, I like them. May he not come in and meet me? He must be wanting to see you again.’
Ko had understood her and trotted off through a door at the back of the hall.
’Koffie?’ asked Katje, and trotted after him, taking Mekke and Wim with her.
Mr van der Leurs turned Eulalia round, unbuttoned her coat and cast it on one of the splendid chairs flanking a console table worthy of a museum.
‘Then come and meet Humbert.’
He opened a door and led her into a high-ceilinged room with an ornate plaster ceiling, tall narrow windows and a wide fireplace with a great hood above it. There was a splendid fire burning in the fire basket below, adding its light to the sconces on the walls hung with crimson silk. It was a magnificent room and Eulalia stood in the doorway and gaped at it.
But she wasn’t allowed to stand and stare. ‘This way,’ said Aderik, and crossed the floor to another door at the end of the room, opposite the windows. This led to a little railed gallery with steps down to another room. A library, she supposed, for its walls were lined with shelves filled with books and there were small tables and comfortable chairs. But she had no chance to do more than look around her; the room led into a conservatory with a profusion of greenery and elegant cane furniture, and that opened onto the garden, which was narrow and high-walled and surprisingly large.
The dog that rushed to meet them was large too, a great shaggy beast who gave a delighted bark and hurled himself at his master. Then, at a word from Aderik the dog offered a woolly head for her to scratch. Mr van der Leurs switched off the outside lights and closed the door to the garden, then led the way back to the library, through another door in the further wall. Here there was a veritable warren of small rooms until he finally opened the last door which brought them back into the hall.
‘Tomorrow,’ he assured her, ‘you will be given a leisurely tour of the house. You must be tired; come and have a drink and something to eat and Katje will take you to your room.’
The Stoelklok in the hall chimed the hour as they went back into the drawing room where, on a small table by the fire, Ko was arranging a tray of coffee and a plate of sandwiches. Eulalia, half asleep now but excited too, drank her coffee, and, suddenly discovering that she was hungry, ate several sandwiches.
‘What time do you have breakfast?’
‘Since I am free tomorrow and we have all day before us, would half past eight suit you?’
She nodded. ‘What time do you usually breakfast?’
‘Half past seven. I walk to the hospital. If I have a list it starts at half past eight. If you would rather have your breakfast in bed that can easily be arranged.’
‘I’ve only ever had breakfast in bed this morning and I like getting up early…’
‘Splendid.’ He got up and tugged the bell-pull by the fireplace and when Katje came said, ‘Sleep well, my dear. I’ll see you at breakfast.’
Eulalia got up, longing now for her bed. She lifted her face for his kiss, quick and light on her cheek, and followed Katje up the oak staircase to the landing above. It was ringed by several doors and another staircase but Katje led her to the front of the house and opened a door with something of a flourish.
The room was already lighted and heavy brocade curtains were drawn across the windows. There was a pale carpet underfoot and a Georgian mahogany and satinwood four-poster flanked by mahogany bedside tables faced the windows between which was a satinwood table with a triple mirror. There was a tapestry-covered stool before it and there were two Georgian armchairs on either side of a mahogany tallboy.
Eulalia caught her breath at the room’s beauty as Katje bustled past her and opened the door in a wall, revealing a vast closet; she could see her few clothes hanging forlornly there; someone had unpacked already. Another door led to a bathroom, which Katje crossed to open yet another door, revealing a second room, handsomely furnished but simple.
Katje trott
ed back, smiling and nodding, and went away. Eulalia lost no time in undressing and bathing before tumbling into bed. The splendid room must be explored thoroughly but not tonight. She was asleep as her head touched the pillow.
She woke as Mekke was drawing back the curtains; the girl wished her a good morning and put a tea tray beside her. She said in English, ‘Breakfast soon, mevrouw,’ and went away. There was an ornate green enamel and gilt clock on the tallboy striking eight o’clock as she drank her tea.
Eulalia nipped from her bed and dressed quickly in a skirt, blouse and sweater, wasted time hanging out of the window in the cold morning air to view the quiet street outside and the canal beyond, then hurried downstairs. The house was alive with cheerful, distant voices and Humbert’s deep bark as she reached the hall, uncertain where to go.
Aderik opened a door and then crossed the hall to her, kissed her cheek and wished her a good morning. ‘You slept well? Come and have breakfast.’
He ushered her into a small room, very cosy with a small table laid ready for them, and Humbert came prancing to have his head scratched and grin at her.
Eulalia found her voice. ‘What a dear little room. Did I see it last night?’
‘We came through it but I doubt whether you saw it; you were asleep on your feet, weren’t you?’
He smiled at her and pulled out a chair for her before sitting down himself. ‘There’s tea or coffee; you must let Ko know which you prefer to have.’ He added kindly, ‘It’s all strange, isn’t it? But you’ll soon find your feet.’
Eulalia said slowly, ‘I have the feeling that I shall wake up presently and find that none of this is happening.’
She buttered toast. ‘It all happened so quickly…’
‘Indeed it did, but now you can have all the time you want to adjust—it is merely that you will be doing it after we are married and not before. I imagine that you would have given your future a good deal of thought if we had waited to marry. You may still do so, Eulalia, and I hope that if you have doubts or problems you will tell me.’