by Betty Neels
‘Yes, I will but I shan’t bother you more than I must for you must be very occupied. What else do you do besides operating?’
‘I have an outpatients clinic once a week, ward rounds, private patients at my consulting rooms, consultations—and from time to time I go over to St Chad’s and occasionally to France or Germany.’
He saw the look on her face. ‘But I am almost always free at the weekends and during the week there is the odd hour…’
Waiting for Eulalia in the hall presently, he watched her coming down the stairs. She was wearing a short jacket and no hat; a visit to a dress shop would have to be contrived; a warm winter coat was badly needed and some kind of a hat. It was obvious to him that his dearest Lally was sorely in need of a new wardrobe. He said nothing; he was a man who had learned when to keep silent. In answer to her anxious enquiry he merely assured her that Humbert had had a long walk before breakfast.
‘We will come home for lunch and take him for a walk in one of the parks,’ he suggested. ‘But now I’ll show you something of Amsterdam.’
Mr van der Leurs loved his Amsterdam; his roots went deep for a long-ago ancestor had made a fortune in the Indies—a fortune which his descendants had prudently increased—and built himself the patrician house in the heart of the city. The house in which he had been born and grown to manhood. He had left it for long periods—medical school at Leiden, years at Cambridge, a period of Heidelburg—but now he was firmly established in his profession, making a name for himself, working as a consultant at St Chad’s, travelling from time to time to other countries to lecture or examine or attend a consultation.
He wanted Eulalia to love Amsterdam too and, unlike the tours arranged for sightseers, he walked her through the narrow streets away from the usual sights. He showed her hidden canals away from the main grachten, old almshouses, houses built out beside the canals so that their back walls hung over the water. He showed her churches, a street market, the flower barges loaded down with colour, gave her coffee in a crowded café where men were playing billiards and the tables were covered with red and white checked cloths, and then wove his way into the elegant streets where the small expensive dress shops were to be found.
Before one of those plate-glass windows he paused.
‘The coat draped over that chair…it would suit you admirably and you will need a thick topcoat; it can be so cold here in the winter. Shall we go inside and see if you like it?’
He didn’t wait for her to answer but opened the door. Five minutes later Eulalia and he returned to the pavement and this time she was wearing the coat. It was navy blue cashmere and a perfect fit, while on her head was a rakish little beret. The jacket, the friendly saleslady had promised, would be sent to the house.
Eulalia stood in the middle of the pavement, regardless of passers-by. ‘Thank you, Aderik,’ she said. ‘It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever possessed.’ Her eyes searched his quiet face. ‘I—I haven’t many clothes and they’re not very new.’ She looked away for a moment and then gave him a very direct look. ‘I hope you’re not ashamed of me?’
Mr van der Leurs realised the danger ahead. He said in a matter-of-fact voice, ‘You look elegant in anything you wear, my dear, and you are beautiful enough to wear a sack and still draw interested glances. And no, I am not ashamed of you, but I don’t want you catching cold when all that are needed are warmer clothes.’
He took her arm and walked on. ‘I think that you must get a few things before winter really sets in.’
Put like that, it seemed a sensible suggestion. He glanced down at her face and saw with satisfaction the look of delighted anticipation on it.
They went back to a main street and caught a tram. It was in two sections and both of them were packed. Eulalia stood with his arm around her, loving every minute of it, and then scrambled off when they reached the point where the street intersected the Herengracht. They walked back home from there so that she could find her way back on her own.
They lunched in the small room where they had breakfasted with Humbert sitting between them, happy now that they were home, knowing that presently he would be taken for a walk.
They went to Vondel Park, a long walk which took them past the Rijksmuseum and through a tangle of small streets to the park. Here Humbert raced to and fro while they walked the paths briskly in the teeth of a cold wind.
‘Tomorrow we will take the car,’ said Mr van der Leurs cheerfully, ‘so that you may get a glimpse of Holland. This is not the time of year to see it, of course, but the roads will be empty and we can cover a good deal of ground. You know of St Nikolaas, of course? You must see him with Zwarte Piet riding through the streets. It was once a great day but now we celebrate Christmas much as you do in England. All the same, we exchange small presents and the children have parties.’
He turned her round smartly and started the walk back to the park’s gates. ‘And after St Nikolaas there will be parties and concerts and the hospital ball and the family coming for Christmas.’
‘The family?’ asked Eulalia faintly. ‘You have a large family?’
‘Mother, brother and sisters, nieces and nephews, scattered around the country.’
‘You didn’t tell me. Do they know you have married me?’
‘Yes, and they are delighted. I should have mentioned it; it quite slipped my mind.’
She didn’t know whether to laugh or be angry. ‘But you should have told me; I might have changed my mind…’
‘No, no. You married me, not my family. You’ll like them. We don’t see much of each other but we like each other.’
‘This is a ridiculous conversation,’ said Eulalia severely.
He tucked her hand under his arm. ‘Yes, isn’t it? Let us go home for tea and then I must do some work, much though I regret that. You can make a list of your shopping while I’m doing that and I’ll tell you where the best shops are.’
They had tea in the drawing room by the fire—English tea and crumpets.
‘Can you get crumpets here?’ asked Eulalia, licking a buttery finger.
‘There is a shop which sells them, I believe. We don’t, as a nation, have afternoon tea, only if we go to a café or tea room.’
‘Am I going to find life very different here?’
He thought for a moment. ‘No, I think not. You will soon have friends, and there are any number of English living here. I shall take you to the hospital and introduce you to my colleagues there and their wives will invite you for coffee.’
‘Oh—but not before I’ve got some new clothes…’
‘No, no. In any case I shall be away for a couple of days next week; I have to go to Rome.’
‘Rome? To operate?’
‘To examine students. Ko will take care of you.’
He had sounded casual and for some reason she felt hurt. Surely she could have gone with him or he could have refused to go?
An unreasonable wish, she realised.
He went away to his study presently and she found pencil and paper and made a list of the clothes she might need. The list got longer and longer and finally she became impatient with it and threw it on the table by her chair. What was the use of making a list if she had no idea of how much money she could spend?
She curled up in her chair and went to sleep. It had been an active day and, besides that, her thoughts were in a muddle.
When she awoke Aderik was sitting on a nearby chair with Humbert pressed close to him, reading the list.
He glanced at her and finished his reading. ‘You will need more than two evening frocks and a good handful of what my sisters call little dresses. There will be coffee mornings and tea parties. You’ll need a raincoat and hat—there’s a Burberry shop.’
He took out his pen and added to the list. ‘If you’d rather not go alone Ko will go with you, show you where the best shops are and wait while you shop.’
‘The best man,’ said Eulalia. ‘You said he had a wife—Daisy…’
‘
They had a son two weeks ago. When I get back from Rome we’ll go and visit them. I dare say she will go shopping with you if you would like that.’
‘If she could spare the time, I would.’
‘We will have a day out tomorrow, if you would like that, but will you come to church with me after breakfast?’
‘Yes, of course I will. Is it that little church we pass on the way here?’
‘Yes; there is service at nine o’clock. I think you may find it not so very different from your own church.’
* * *
Eulalia, standing beside him in the ancient, austere little church, reflected that he was quite right. Of course she couldn’t understand a word but somehow that didn’t matter. And afterwards the dominee and several people gathered round to meet her, making her feel instantly at home. That Aderik was well liked and respected among the congregation was obvious, and it struck her anew how little she knew about him.
They went back home for coffee and then, with Humbert on the back seat, set off on their tour.
Mr van der Leurs, a man of many parts, had planned the day carefully. He took the road to Apeldoorn and then by side roads to Zwolle and then north for another twenty miles to Blokzijl, a very small town surrounding a harbour on the inland lakes of the region. It was hardly a tourist centre but the restaurant by the lock was famous for its food. He parked the car and as Eulalia got out she exclaimed, ‘Oh, how Dutch! Look at the ducks and that little bridge over the lock.’
She beamed up at him. ‘This is really Holland, isn’t it?’
‘Yes. In the summer there are yachts going to and fro and it can be crowded. Would you like to have lunch here?’
‘Oh, yes, please…’
They had a table in a window overlooking the lock in a room half full of people, and Eulalia, with one eye on the scene outside, discovered that she was hungry and ate prawns, grilled sole and Charlotte Russe with a splendid appetite, listening to Aderik’s gentle flow of conversation, feeling quietly happy.
They didn’t hurry over their meal but presently they drove on, still going north in the direction of Leeuwarden, driving around the lakes and then to Sneek and Bolsward before bypassing Leeuwarden and crossing over to North Holland on the other side of the Ijsselmeer. The dyke road was almost empty of traffic, just over eighteen miles of it, and Mr van der Leurs put his well-shod foot down. Eulalia barely had time to get her bearings before they were on land again, and making for Alkmaar.
They stopped for tea then but they didn’t linger over it. ‘I’m going to take the coast road as far as Zandvoort. If it’s not too dark we’ll take a look at the sea.’
The road was a short distance from the sea but very soon he turned off to Egmond aan Zee, a small seaside town, very quiet now that it was winter. He parked the car and together they went down to the beach. It was dusk now, with a grey sky and a rough sea. Eulalia could see the sands stretching away north and south into the distance. ‘You could walk for miles,’ she said, then added, ‘I like it; it’s lonely…’
‘Now it is. In the summer the beach is packed.’
He took her arm. ‘Come, it will be dark very soon. We’ll be home in half an hour.’
It was quite dark by the time they got home, to sit by the fire and then eat their supper while Aderik patiently answered her questions about everything she had seen during the day.
It was lovely, she reflected, sitting there in the beautiful drawing room with Aderik in his chair and Humbert sprawled between them. Despite the grandeur of the room, she felt as though she belonged. She was sleepy too and presently he said, ‘Go to bed, my dear; we’ve had quite a long day.’
‘When do you have to go tomorrow?’
‘I must leave the house by half past seven.’
‘May I come and have breakfast with you? You won’t mind if I’m in my dressing gown?’
‘That would be delightful. Shall I tell Mekke to call you at seven o’clock?’
‘Yes, please, and thank you for a lovely day.’ They went to the door together. ‘I feel as though I’ve been here for years and years.’ She gave a little laugh, ‘That’s silly, isn’t it? We’ve only been married a couple of days.’
He smiled and kissed her cheek. ‘Sleep well.’
The house was quiet when she went down in the morning but there were lights on in the dining room and a shaded lamp in the hall. She slid into her chair opposite Aderik, wished him ‘Good morning’ and told him not to get up. She was wearing the same worthy dressing gown, he saw at once, and her hair was hanging down her back and she was flushed with sleep and very beautiful. He hoped it wouldn’t be too long before she fell in love with him…
She asked about his trip and he answered her briefly, promising to phone her that evening. When he got up to go his goodbye was cheerful and brief; nothing of his longing to stay with her showed in his face, which was very calm. She had been happy with him during their two days together: he had seen that in her expressive face—now she would be alone and have time to think about them and realise how happy they had been—and miss him.
It was a gamble, and Mr van der Leurs wasn’t a gambling man. But he had faith in his own judgement and a great deal of patience.
He said, ‘Ko will take care of you,’ and kissed her swiftly, leaving her standing in the hall feeling quite lost.
But not for long. When she came down presently, dressed and ready for the day ahead, Ko was waiting for her. He handed her an envelope and went away to fetch some coffee and she sat down and opened it. There was a great deal of money inside. There was a note too from Aderik. ‘Buy as much as you want; if you need more money, ask Ko who will know where to get it.’
She began counting the notes. It seemed like a fortune; she would have to make another list and plan what she could buy. Whatever she did buy would have to be of the best quality. Her coat was of the finest cashmere and she guessed expensive, but Aderik hadn’t quibbled over its price. Whatever she bought must match it. She stowed the money away carefully and, seen on her way by a fatherly Ko, left the house.
Years of penny-pinching had taught her to be a careful shopper and that stood her in good stead now, as she stifled an impulse to enter the first elegant boutique she saw and buy everything which might take her fancy. Instead she sought out some of the bigger stores, inspecting their windows, and presently chose one bearing a resemblance to one of the fashion houses in London and went inside.
She had made a wise choice; the underwear department had everything a well-dressed girl would want. She choked over the prices but even though Aderik was never likely to see her purchases she would feel right. And there was no reason why he shouldn’t see a dressing gown—she bought a pink quilted silk garment almost too charming to keep hidden in the bedroom and added it to the pile of silk and lace.
When she had paid for them and asked for them to be delivered to the house, there was still a great deal of money left…
Aderik had told her to buy a Burberry. She found the shop, bought it and added a matching rain hat, paid for those too and arranged to have them delivered. With the bit firmly between her teeth, she went in search of the boutique where Aderik had bought her coat.
The saleslady recognised her at once. She was alone? she enquired of Eulalia. ‘Perhaps mevrouw is looking for something special to wear of an evening, ready for the festive season?’
‘Well, yes, but first I’d like to see some dresses for the day. Thin wool or jersey?’
‘I have just the thing.’ The saleslady raised her voice and said something unintelligible to a young girl hovering at the back of the boutique, who sped away and returned presently with several dresses.
‘A perfect size twelve,’ said the saleslady in her more or less fluent English, ‘and a figure to make other women envious, mevrouw. Try this jersey dress, such a good colour—we call it mahogany—very simple in cut but elegant enough to wear later in the day.’
An hour later, Eulalia left the boutique, considerably lighter in p
urse but possessed of a jersey dress, a cashmere twin set, a tweed suit, its skirt short enough to show off her shapely legs, a dark red velvet dress which she was advised could be worn on any occasion after six o’clock, and a pleated skirt, all of which would be delivered to the house. She had tried on several evening gowns too, uncertain which to buy. It was the saleslady who suggested that perhaps she might like to return when it was convenient and bring her husband with her.
Eulalia had agreed although she doubted if he would have the time or the inclination to go with her, but at least she could describe them to him and he could advise her.
She went home for her lunch then; tomorrow was another day and she needed to sit down quietly and check her list and count her money. But first of all after lunch she would put on her coat again and go with Ko and Humbert to Vondel Park and walk there for an hour while Humbert nosed around happily.
There weren’t many people about when they got there for it was cold and the day was closing in but she enjoyed it; Ko had ready answers to all her questions, giving gentle advice, telling her a little about the household’s routine.
‘And Katje hopes that you will come to the kitchen when you wish; she is anxious that you should know everything. You have only to say when you wish it.’
‘I’d like that very much, Ko. When is the best time? I mean, Katje has her work to do.’
‘That is thoughtful of you, mevrouw. Perhaps in the afternoon after lunch?’
‘Tomorrow? You will be there, Ko, to translate…?’
‘Naturally, mevrouw. Now it is time for us to return.’
The parcels and boxes had been delivered while they had been in the park; Eulalia had her tea by the fire and then went upstairs and unpacked everything and put them in drawers and cupboards. She would go to bed early, she decided, and try on everything then.
It was as she was sitting in the drawing room with Humbert pressed up against her that she began to feel lonely. The excitement of shopping had kept her thoughts busy all day but now she wished that Aderik was there. Even if he was working in his study, just to know that he was at home would be nice. They really got on very well, she reflected. Of course they had to get to know each other, and since it seemed that he was away from home a good deal that may take some time. In the meantime she must learn her way around and be the kind of wife he wished for. He would be home again tomorrow—late in the evening, he had said, but she would wait up for him as any good wife would.