by Betty Neels
‘I was getting frightened too,’ muttered Eulalia into his shoulder. ‘I don’t know why I got lost…’
‘There was another entrance at the back of the shop—a natural mistake.’
He gathered up her parcels and shoved her gently into the car. ‘Humbert’s in the back.’
The car was warm and comfortable and Humbert pushed his woolly head against her shoulder. Eulalia supposed it was relief which made her want to cry. She sniffed away the tears and Aderik, without looking at her, said cheerfully, ‘Dry clothes and tea and then you can show me what you have bought.’
CHAPTER FIVE
BACK at the house, Aderik pulled off her wet gloves, took off her coat and gave it to a hovering Ko and tossed her hat into a chair while Katje and Mekke, both talking at once, urged her to get into something warm.
‘I’m only a bit wet,’ protested Eulalia, and shivered.
‘You appear half drowned. Go and get into something dry; your feet are sopping. And don’t be long; I want my tea.’
So she went up to her room with an emotional Mekke in attendance, declaring in a mixture of English and Dutch that it was all her fault; she should never have told mevrouw to go to that shop. If mevrouw caught cold she would never forgive herself…
Ten minutes later Eulalia went back downstairs. Mekke had taken away her wet shoes and damp skirt and she had got into a jersey dress, brushed her hair and done her face, none the worse for her soaking. She had been frightened; she hoped that Aderik hadn’t noticed that…
But of course he had.
He was standing with his back to the fire, his hands in his pockets and Humbert lolling beside him, while Ko arranged the tea things on a small round table between the two armchairs drawn up to the blaze.
Eulalia heaved a sigh of contentment; it was lovely to be home and she told him so. ‘I’ll be more careful next time,’ she told him earnestly.
‘It’s easy to get lost,’ he said easily, ‘but you will soon find your way around. I must arrange for you to have lessons in Dutch so that you can ask the way. There are parts of Amsterdam where English might not be understood. I’m sorry that you got so wet…’
She had hoped that he might have said more than that; that it had been sensible of her to phone, a word of praise for her good sense and lack of panic, but he began a casual conversation about Christmas, dismissing the whole thing as trivial, reflected Eulalia pettishly.
Mr van der Leurs, watching her expressive face from under his eyelashes, thought his own thoughts and presently asked her if she would like to go shopping with him in the morning. ‘I’m free until two o’clock; we might get the family presents bought. You found what you wanted for the children?’
‘Yes. I hope they’ll do; I mean, I haven’t seen the children yet, have I? I don’t know what they like.’
He didn’t answer that but asked abruptly, ‘Are you happy, Eulalia?’
She was too surprised to say anything for a moment. She put down the toasted teacake she was on the point of eating and licked a buttery finger. She said composedly, ‘Yes, I am happy. Why do you ask, Aderik?’
‘When I asked you to marry me I promised that you could have all the time you needed to get to know me and adjust to a new way of life. Ours was hardly a traditional marriage, was it? There should be time to reflect on the future together before becoming man and wife and I gave you no time for that. You may have regrets or doubts. And I think that you like me well enough to tell me if that is the case?’
She said thoughtfully, ‘I don’t think I ever had any doubts or regrets. Perhaps I should have thought about it more…but I feel at home here although it’s much grander than I had expected. And I miss Grandfather…but we get on well together, don’t we? And in a little while, as soon as I’ve learnt to speak Dutch and become the kind of wife you want…’
‘You are the kind of wife I want, Lally. Stay just as you are. Learn to speak Dutch by all means, but don’t change.’
He got up and pulled her gently to her feet. ‘And now that you are quite certain that you are happy here with me I think that it is time we became engaged!’
He had put his arm around her shoulders and she stared up at him.
‘Engaged? But we are married!’
‘So now we will be engaged as well.’
He took a little box out of his pocket and opened it. There was a ring inside—diamonds in an old-fashioned gold setting. ‘My grandmother’s ring—I had it altered to fit your finger.’
He picked up her hand and slipped it above her wedding ring and, before she could speak, bent and kissed her. A gentle, slow kiss which left her with a surge of delight, so unexpected that she lost her breath.
‘Oh,’ said Eulalia, and kissed him back.
Mr van der Leurs’ arms tightened around her for a moment, then he let her go. ‘Sealed with a kiss,’ he said lightly. ‘Now tell me, have you any ideas about these presents?’
Eulalia sat down again, feeling vaguely disappointed, telling herself that she had no reason to be; hadn’t Aderik just given her a most beautiful ring? And the kiss—she refused to think about that for the moment. It hadn’t been like the other brief kisses he had given her—brief tokens of affection; it had left her feeling unsettled.
Mr van der Leurs, sitting in his chair, Humbert’s great head resting on his knee, watched her face, and because he loved her so deeply he guessed her thoughts and was satisfied. A little more time and a lot more patience, he reflected.
* * *
They went shopping in the morning and Eulalia, at Aderik’s quiet direction, bought silk scarves, exquisite handbags, gloves as supple as velvet, earrings for his mother, thin gold bangles for his sisters, books for his brother, before having a cup of coffee while they decided what to get Katje, Ko and Mekke. Soft fleece-lined slippers for Ko, whose elderly feet would be glad of them at the end of the day, and silk-lined gloves for Katje. As for Mekke—a quilted dressing gown in one of the bright colours she loved…
They went home, well pleased with their purchases, and after an early lunch Aderik left for the hospital, leaving Eulalia sitting at the little writing desk in the small sitting room, carefully writing Christmas cards from the list he had given her. It was a long list, prudently updated from year to year so that all she had to do was copy names and addresses. Tomorrow, she decided, she would buy presents to send to England; the cards she had already sent. And she still had to find a present for Aderik.
The days passed surprisingly quickly, with last-minute presents to buy, Humbert to take for walks, and rather anxious preparations for the ball, now only a day or two away. And Aderik was seldom home before the early evening. So it was all the more delightful when she went down to breakfast on the morning before the day of the ball to be told that he was free until the afternoon and would she like to see more of Amsterdam?
‘Not a museum; we’ll save those for when we have hours of leisure. Suppose we just walk round some of the older streets? Most of them have little antique or book shops and the small houses are worth seeing.’
It was a day for walking: a cold blue sky, frost underfoot and the city bustling with preparations for Christmas. But the small streets to which Aderik led the way were quiet. The small gabled houses had their doors shut, spotless curtains shrouding their gleaming windows. From time to time they met a housewife, basket on arm, going to the shops, and exchanged good mornings, and they stopped frequently to look in the shop windows.
Eulalia found them fascinating—book shops galore and antiques shops, some with their goods spread out on the narrow pavement. Aderik bought her a small china bowl, patterned in the lavender colour, which was the first Delftware. It had a small chip and a hairline crack yet was none the less expensive, but since she didn’t know the price and Mr van der Leurs paid without comment she accepted it with delight.
It was as they were on their way back, going down a narrow lane with a few shops and rather shabby cottages, that Eulalia stopped suddenly before a w
indow. There was a kitten sitting in a cage there, a puny little creature with huge eyes. Attached to the cage was a card with ‘Goedkoop’ written on it.
Eulalia tugged at Aderik’s sleeve. ‘How could anyone be so callous?’ she demanded. ‘Writing “cheap” on that card, just as though the little creature is fit for nothing. And supposing no one wants him? He’ll just die.’
Mr van der Leurs looked down at her furious face, flushed with rage, her eyes flashing. She looked so beautiful he could hardly keep his hands off her. He said, ‘We want him; he’s just the companion Humbert will enjoy.’
The smile she gave him was his reward. ‘You’ll buy him? I’ll look after him; he won’t be a nuisance…’
He opened the door and its old-fashioned bell tinkled rustily and an elderly man came through the curtain at the back of the shop. Eulalia couldn’t understand what was said; the man sounded apologetic and had a great deal to say while Aderik listened silently. Presently he handed the man some notes and the kitten was fetched out from the window, removed from his cage and transferred to the inside of Aderik’s topcoat, and they were ushered out of the shop with some ceremony.
‘Oh, Aderik, thank you. I’m sure he’ll grow into a splendid cat. That horrible man…’
‘He had a so-called pet shop there but is moving away. He sold the animals he had, and the shop, but this small creature for some reason wasn’t sold, so he put it in the window as a last hope before being drowned.’
He added, ‘Don’t be sad; he’s going to be our family pet and he’s too small to remember his unhappy start. We’ll cut through here; there’s a shop in the next street where we can buy him a basket and anything else he needs.’
Eulalia was struggling not to cry. She had no reason to do so; the kitten was safe, Aderik had dealt with the unhappy little episode with instant calm; for some reason she realised that was why she wanted to cry. And that was absurd. He was a man of unfailing kindness. She might not know him very well yet but of that she was sure. And she trusted him…
Back at the house the kitten was laid on a clean towel, given warm milk and gently examined. He was in poor shape but Aderik thought that with good food and tender loving care he had a good chance of growing into a handsome cat. All the same, he would take him to the vet when he got home later in the day. So the kitten was settled in the basket Aderik had bought for him, lined with paper and a blanket, before the warm hearth. Humbert, at first doubtful and puzzled, came and sat beside him and presently, to their delight, the kitten crawled out of his basket and curled up between Humbert’s paws.
Mr van der Leurs was late home; the bone marrow transplant he had done that afternoon had had unexpected complications and he would have to go back to the hospital later on. Nevertheless he took the kitten to the vet before he sat down to his dinner.
‘Nothing wrong with him,’ he assured Eulalia. ‘He’s had his injections and a thorough overhaul; all he needs now is feeding up and warmth.’
‘And to be loved,’ said Eulalia. ‘And he must have a name—an important one to make up for an unhappy start. Something grand…’
They were sitting in the drawing room with Humbert lying on Aderik’s feet and the kitten half buried against the great dog’s furry chest.
‘Ferdinand,’ said Eulalia, ‘and we can call him Ferdie. Oh, Aderik, I’m so glad you saved him.’
‘He’s made himself at home; I hear that Katje is mincing chicken and keeping milk warm on the Aga and obviously Humbert is pleased to have him.’
He got up carefully from his chair. ‘I have to go back to the hospital. I’ll say goodnight, Lally, and see you at breakfast. Ko will see to Humbert and Ferdie.’
He brushed her cheek with a quick kiss, a brief salute which left her feeling lonely. ‘How can I possibly feel lonely?’ asked Lally of her two companions.
And indeed she had no leisure to feel lonely; the next day was spent attending to Ferdie’s needs, taking Humbert for a walk and then getting down to the serious business of dressing for the ball. She had decided on the pink taffeta and when she was finally dressed she had to admit that she really looked rather nice. She had taken pains with her face and her hair, and the fine cashmere shawl which she had had the forethought to buy made a warm and dramatic wrap against the cold night. There remained nothing for her to do but go down to the drawing room and wait for Aderik.
He was late, she thought worriedly; perhaps there had been an emergency which would hold him up for hours, and they might have to miss the first part of the evening, even the whole evening. She sat there trying not to fidget in case it creased her dress, thinking how much she had been looking forward to the ball. She hadn’t been to a dance for a long time; she had always refused invitations to the annual dance at St Chad’s; she couldn’t afford a dress for one thing and for another she had been afraid that no one would dance with the canteen lady… But now she had the right clothes and a husband to partner her, and she very much wanted to dance with Aderik.
She glanced at the clock once more, heard voices in the hall and just had time to compose her features into serenity as the door opened and Aderik came in.
Annoyingly unhurried. Eulalia bit back wifely admonishments to hurry up and change, smiled as though time were of no importance at all, and said, ‘Hello, Aderik. Would you like a drink before you change?’
He had shut the door and was leaning against it looking at her.
‘Eulalia, you leave me speechless. I was prepared to see an impatient virago hissing at me to hurry up and change and did I know the time? Instead of which I find a charming vision in pink offering me a drink!’
He crossed the room and pulled her to her feet. ‘You look beautiful and that is a most becoming gown.’ He held her away so that he could study her at his leisure. ‘My enchanting wife,’ he said quietly and then dropped her hands and added briskly, ‘Give me fifteen minutes,’ and was gone…
He was as good as his word and returned the epitome of a well-dressed man with time on his hands.
Eulalia said uncertainly, ‘You won’t leave me alone, will you?’
He hid a smile. ‘No, Lally, although I think that you will have more partners than you will be able to cope with. Shall we go?’ When she got up and picked up her wrap, he added, ‘Just a moment,’ and took a long box from an inner pocket. ‘I have never given you a wedding present, have I?’
He took the double row of pearls from the box and fastened it round her neck and bent to kiss her. ‘I wanted you to feel free, Lally…’
She knew what he meant; he had wanted her to marry him without any strings attached. She said simply, ‘Thank you, Aderik. You are so good to me and thank you for that too.’
She turned to look in the gilt wood mirror above a wall table and put a hand up to touch the pearls. ‘They’re very beautiful.’
* * *
The ball was being held in the assembly hall of the hospital and the place was packed. The ter Brandts were standing by the doors, shaking hands and exchanging greetings as the guests arrived. Christina kissed Eulalia and said warmly, ‘You look lovely; Aderik must be so proud of you. He’ll be lucky to have more than two or three dances with you. Daisy and Jules are here already; it’s quite a crush but you’ll find them when the dancing stops.’
She turned to Aderik and Duert kissed Eulalia’s cheek. ‘I shall want a dance with you later,’ he told her.
They joined the dancers then—they were playing a waltz and she gave herself up to the delight of dancing; it was as though she and Aderik had danced together all their lives and for a moment she was oblivious of anything but his arm around her and her feet following his of their own volition. But presently he said, ‘There are many people here whom you met when you came to see St Nikolaas, but you won’t remember all of them.’
He was greeting other couples as they danced and she hastened to nod and smile too, feeling shy. When the dance ended and a rather pompous man and his wife approached them, Aderik said, ‘You remember Professor
Keesman, Eulalia? And his wife?’
Eulalia murmured politely and Mevrouw Keesman said kindly, ‘You have met so many new faces, it must be difficult for you. You must come and visit me soon—after Christmas perhaps? I should like that.’
Eulalia barely had time to thank her before Professor Keesman danced her off into a slow foxtrot. He was a short stout man and she discovered quickly that he was self-important too, impressing upon her the high rank of his position in the hospital. She listened politely, making appropriate replies when necessary, thinking that Aderik never boasted about his work, nor did Duert, and she suspected that they were just as important as the professor. She hoped that Aderik wasn’t a close friend of the Kessmans; she much preferred Duert and Jules.
But if she didn’t much care for the professor there were any number of guests there who professed to be close friends of Aderik. She didn’t lack for partners and from time to time she would find him at her elbow introducing her to one or other of them and claiming her for a dance.
They had supper with Daisy and Jules and half a dozen couples who obviously knew each other well and Eulalia got up from the supper table with enough invitations to fill her days for weeks to come. And when they went back into the ballroom Aderik whisked her onto the dance floor.
‘Now we can dance together until the end,’ he told her. ‘My duty dances are done and you have had partners tumbling over each other to get at you; now we can behave like an old married couple and dance together.’
‘Oh, yes, please,’ said Eulalia. ‘I feel so comfortable with you and I’ve run out of polite small talk!’
‘But you are enjoying yourself? You have been much admired.’
‘I’ve had a lovely time. I did my best to behave like a consultant’s wife. I hope I didn’t let you down. I mean, not remembering names and not being amusing or witty.’
She felt his arm tightening round her. ‘My dear Eulalia, do not, I beg you, try to change in any way. You are delightful as you are, restful and soft-voiced and with the happy knack of knowing when to talk and when to keep silent.’