by Betty Neels
In other words, reflected Eulalia, dull. It was a depressing thought but if that was what he wanted in a wife then she would endeavour to be just that.
Somehow—she wasn’t sure why—the pleasures and the excitement of the evening had evaporated. Which was absurd. She had had partners and compliments and there had been young women of her own age only too ready to make friends.
She watched Daisy and Jules dancing together and had a sudden pang of envy. And the ter Brandts, no longer in their first youth but obviously devoted… But of course they’re in love, thought Eulalia wistfully.
The ball wound to a close and the guests began a leisurely departure, calling goodnights, stopping to chat with friends before going out into the cold night.
Back home, Aderik said, ‘Shall we have a warm drink before we go to bed? Katje will have left something ready for us.’
The kitchen was cosy and neither Humbert nor Ferdie did more than open an eye as they went in.
‘Hot cocoa?’ suggested Eulalia, and fetched mugs from the dresser and the plate of sandwiches she had asked Katje to make. ‘Supper seems a long while ago,’ she observed. ‘I asked Katje to make them with ham and there’s cold chicken…’
‘Bless you for being a thoughtful housewife,’ said Aderik, and took a huge mouthful before sitting down at the table opposite her. ‘What a pleasant way to end the evening.’
He smiled at her. ‘And you looked lovely, Lally. I am a very much envied man.’
She thanked him gravely. ‘I’ve never been to a grand ball before; it was exciting.’ She put down her mug. ‘I think I’ll go to bed.’
He got up and went to the door with her. ‘Shall we go and buy the Christmas tree in the morning? I’ve private patients to see in the afternoon but otherwise I’m free.’
‘Oh, yes—and a little one for Katje and Ko and Mekke?’
‘Of course. We’ll go into the country. Goodnight, Lally.’
She went to her bed feeling deprived. A goodnight kiss would have set the seal on the evening.
* * *
It was mid-morning before they set out. Humbert had to have his walk, Ferdie needed to be fed and brushed and made much of and Katje needed to discuss what they should have for dinner that evening…
‘We’ll have lunch out,’ said Aderik. ‘I need to be back soon after one o’clock.’
He drove out of Amsterdam and took the road to Hilversum, some twenty miles away, and then turned off the main road into a narrow country lane running between flat fields. There was wooded country ahead of them and when they reached it there was a small village, well hidden from the road.
Aderik parked by a small farm at the edge of the village and they got out and walked across the yard and round the back to find an old man surrounded by Christmas trees in all shapes and sizes. He shouted a greeting to Mr van der Leurs and came to shake hands and then shake Eulalia’s. He had a great deal to say, too, in his gruff old voice, nodding and shaking his head and then leading them among the trees. They chose a splendid one for the house and a small one for the kitchen and Eulalia wandered off, leaving Aderik to pay and talk to the man. Presently he joined her.
‘The trees will be delivered in two days’ time. They’ll be in tubs and his son will bring them and carry them into the house.’
‘He’ll need a tip? How much do I give him?’
‘Ten guilden—I’ve paid for transport…’
‘And a cup of coffee,’ said Eulalia, very much the housewife.
Christmas was near now; Eulalia’s days were filled wrapping presents, deciding on menus with Katje—a hilarious business with Ko patiently translating the more complicated remarks, although he was quick to tell her that her Dutch was improving each day. And then there was Humbert needing a walk even on a wet day, and Ferdie, still puny but beginning to look more like a kitten should.
There was Daisy to visit too and new-found friends phoning and Christina coming for coffee. Life was perfect, Eulalia told herself, ignoring the thought that all the same there was something not quite right… Perhaps it was because she didn’t see much of Aderik: an hour or two in the evening, a brief half-hour at breakfast.
It was Christina who told her that he had agreed to take several teaching rounds. ‘And I can’t think why,’ she added. ‘Duert told him that they could be fitted in after the New Year so that he could be free instead of staying at the hospital in the afternoons.’ She didn’t say any more because she had seen the look on Eulalia’s face. Had they quarrelled? she wondered, and dismissed the idea as absurd, sorry that she had said it.
Eulalia tried to forget about it. Aderik had his reasons for wanting to fill his days with work and when he was home he was as kind and friendly to her as he always was—only he was so seldom home…
She told herself she was worrying about nothing and flung herself into the final arrangements for the arrival of their guests.
Paul arrived first on the day before Christmas Eve, breezing into the house just before lunch, clapping Ko on the back, kissing Katje and Mekke, hugging Eulalia, demanding to know where Aderik was. He was almost as tall as his brother and very like him in looks, bubbling over with good spirits.
‘I’m not supposed to be here until this evening, am I? But I couldn’t wait to meet you.You’re even more beautiful than Aderik said. Am I in my usual room? Is lunch at half-past twelve? I’m famished.’
Eulalia liked him. When he was ten years older he would be just like Aderik.
‘How much longer will you be in Leiden?’ she asked over lunch.
‘Another year. I’m qualified but I want to specialise. I’d like to go to England, work in a hospital there and get some experience. Of course I’ll never reach the heights Aderik has—he’s top of the tree. I only hope I’ll be half as good.’
They took Humbert for his walk presently and soon after they got back Aderik came home in time to greet the rest of his family, his arm around Eulalia as he introduced her to his mother who was unexpectedly small and plump with grey hair pulled severely back from a kind face, to his sisters, tall and good-looking, and their husbands and five children.
‘It is too bad,’ said Mevrouw van der Leurs, ‘that you should have to meet all of us at once, and more so since Aderik tells me that you have no family. But we welcome you most warmly, Eulalia, and hope that you will adopt us as your own.’ Eulalia, hugged and kissed and made much of, reflected that this was going to be a wonderful Christmas.
And so it was. The children were small enough to believe in Father Christmas and the old house rang with their small voices, and after tea everyone helped decorate the tree, glittering with baubles and with a magnificent fairy doll topping it, and then they all went to the kitchen while Katje and Ko decorated the smaller tree with the children’s help.
Since it was Christmas time dinner was served earlier than usual so that the children could stay up for it, and Eulalia, looking round the table, thought how marvellous it was to belong to such a happy family. She caught Aderik’s eye, sitting at the head of the table, and beamed at him, and he smiled back briefly as he turned to speak to his mother.
For a moment she felt chilled. But it was impossible to be downcast; Paul took all her attention and when they got up from the table she went upstairs with Lucia and Marijka and helped them put the children to bed. Afterwards they sat and talked over coffee and the delicious little biscuits Katje had made.
Mevrouw van der Leurs declared that she was tired and would go to bed—the signal for everyone else to do the same. Eulalia, kissed goodnight and complimented on the delicious dinner and pleasant evening, was left alone with Aderik, and she asked anxiously, ‘Was it really all right? Just as you wanted it?’
‘It was perfect, Eulalia.’
‘Oh, good. Your mother is a darling, isn’t she? And your sisters and brother and the children.’ She gave a small sigh. ‘They’re all so happy.’
‘Does that mean that you’re not, Lally?’
‘No, no, of cour
se not. I was only thinking that I’ve missed so much. Although Grandfather and Jane were always so good to me.’ She added sharply, ‘I’m not whinging…’
‘No, no; I never thought you were. I’m glad that you do like the family—your family as well as mine.’
‘Well, I think it’s very nice of them not to mind that you married me in such a hurry.’ She got up. ‘I’m going to bed. Will you make sure that Ferdie’s comfortable when you take Humbert to his basket?’
He went to open the door for her. ‘I’m going to the hospital in the morning but I’ll be back for lunch. Would you like to go to the midnight service at the English church?’
‘Oh, yes. Daisy told me about it. All of us?’
‘No, just you and me. The family will go to morning service which will give us the chance to put the presents round the tree.’
Her eyes shone. ‘It’s like a fairy-tale Christmas,’ she told him, and leaned up to kiss his cheek.
Mr van der Leurs went back to his chair. In fairy tales, he reflected, the prince always won the hand of the princess. Which was what he intended to do.
Christmas Eve passed in a happy bustle: last-minute talks with Katje, walking with Paul and the children and Humbert while Lucia and Marijka saw to the children’s presents, Ferdie to feed and play with, chatting to her mother-in-law over coffee and then Aderik coming home and the house alive with children’s voices. But all five had an early supper and were put to bed and dinner was a leisurely meal with easy talk and a lot of laughter.
The house was quiet when Aderik and Eulalia went out to the car. It was bitterly cold but there were stars and half a moon casting its icy light. The city was thronged with people and although the shops were long since shut their lighted windows rivalled the lighted Christmas trees in the squares. The church was in a small enclosure off Kalverstraat, surrounded by a ring of old houses, and was already almost full. Eulalia saw Christina and Duert ter Brandt almost at once, and then Daisy and Jules.
There was a Christmas tree and holly and flowers and a choir. It was all so English and she felt tears prick her eyelids. The congregation burst into the opening carol and after a moment she joined in.
It took some time to leave the church once the service was over, there were so many people to exchange good wishes with. The streets were quieter now and the shop windows dark, but as they reached the house she could see a glimmer of light through the transom over the door and inside it was warm and very welcoming.
‘Coffee in the kitchen if you would like it,’ she told Aderik, and went ahead of him to fill the mugs and get it ready.
He came into the kitchen presently, took the mugs from her and set them on the table. ‘Happy Christmas, Lally. I’m cheating and giving you your present while we are alone together.’
It was earrings, gold and diamonds with a pearl drop.
Eulalia looked up at him. ‘Aderik—they are so very beautiful; I’ve never seen anything as lovely. Thank you over and over again; you are so good and kind to me.’ She kissed his cheek. ‘May I try them on now?’
She slipped the hooks into her ears and went to look in the small looking-glass by the dresser, turning this way and that, her eyes shining.
It would be so easy, he thought, watching her, to play on her happiness and gratitude, but that wasn’t what he wanted. If she came to love him it had to be of her own free will…
‘Could I wear them to breakfast?’
He laughed then. ‘Well, perhaps lunch would be a better choice. What dress are you wearing?’
‘The russet velvet you chose.’ She beamed at him as she sat down to drink her coffee. ‘I’m so happy I could burst,’ she told him, and presently, her coffee drunk, she wished him goodnight and went off to bed, still wearing the earrings.
* * *
Everyone was up early in the morning and breakfast was eaten to a chorus of seasonal greetings. The children could hardly eat for excitement and were presently borne away to church, leaving Aderik and Eulalia to collect up the presents and arrange them round the tree. They went to the kitchen first with the gifts for Katje, Ko and Mekke. Wim was there too, shaking hands and having a great deal to say to Eulalia, who didn’t understand a word but made up for that by smiling a lot and looking interested. He was profuse in his thanks for the box of cigars and the envelope Mr van der Leurs gave him and went to sit by the Aga, for he was to spend the day there, joining in the festivities.
The presents arranged, Aderik took Humbert for his walk and Eulalia fetched Ferdie to sit in his little basket in the drawing room and then everyone was back from church to drink coffee.
Eulalia had decided that their traditional Christmas dinner should be eaten at midday so that the children could join in before the presents were handed out. She had taken great pains with the table and on her way upstairs went to check that everything was just so. It looked magnificent with the white damask cloth, silver and sparkling glass. She had made a centrepiece with holly and Christmas roses and gold ribbon and the napkins were tied with red ribbon. She went to her room then, got into the russet velvet dress and fastened the pearls, put in the earrings and went back to the drawing room.
* * *
That night curled up in her bed, waiting for sleep, Eulalia re-lived the day. It was one that she would always remember for it had been perfect. Christmas dinner had been a success; the turkey, the Christmas pudding, the mince pies, the wines and champagne had all been praised. And as for the presents, everyone had declared that everything they had received was exactly what they wanted.
She closed her eyes to shut out the thought that she and Aderik had had no time to be together, had exchanged barely a dozen words. If she hadn’t been so sleepy she might have worried about that.
In Holland, she had discovered, there wasn’t a Boxing Day but a second Christmas Day, only the names were different. The day was spent looking at presents again, going for a walk, playing games with the children and having friends in for drinks in the evening. She spent it being a good hostess, making endless light conversation with Aderik’s friends and their wives, trying out her fragmented Dutch on her sisters-in-law, being gently teased by Paul and all the while wishing for Aderik’s company.
Everyone went home the next day and the house was suddenly quiet, for Aderik had gone to the hospital in the early morning. She had slipped down to sit with him while he had breakfast but there was no time for a leisurely talk.
‘I shall probably be late home,’ he’d told her, getting up to leave. ‘I’ve a list this morning and a clinic in the afternoon.’
She mooned around the house with Humbert padding beside her and Ferdie tucked under one arm. ‘I do miss them all,’ she told Humbert, and then changed that to, ‘I do miss Aderik.’
It was nearly lunchtime when Ko came looking for her. He looked so anxious that she said, ‘Ko, what’s the matter? Are you ill?’
‘Mevrouw, there has been a message from the hospital, from the director. There has been an explosion in one of the theatres and I am to tell you not to worry.’
‘Aderik,’ said Eulalia—and, thrusting Ferdie at Ko, flew past him and into the hall, to drag on an elderly mac she kept for the garden. She dashed out of the house, racing along the narrow streets, oblivious of the cold rain and the slippery cobbles. If he’s hurt, I’ll die, she told herself. She said loudly, ‘Oh, Aderik, I love you. I think I always have and now perhaps it’s too late and how silly of me not to know.’
She glared at a solitary woman standing in her way and pushed past her. She was sopping wet and bedraggled when she reached the hospital and the porter on duty gave her a shocked look and started towards her, but she flew past him and belted up the stairs to the theatre unit. She had to pause then for the place was thronged with firemen and police and porters carrying away equipment. They were all too busy to notice her. She edged her way through, looking for someone who would know where Aderik was. He might even now be being treated for injuries—or worse, said a small voice in the
back of her head.
She was dodging in and out of the various side rooms and then saw the main theatre at the end of the corridor, its doors off the hinges, everything in it twisted and smashed. She slithered to a halt and almost fell over whenAderik said from somewhere behind her, ‘My dear, you shouldn’t be here.’
She turned on him. ‘Why didn’t you tell me, phone me? You must have known I’d be half out of my mind. You could have been hurt—killed. I’m your wife.’ She burst into tears. ‘And it doesn’t matter to you but I love you and I really will not go on like this.’
She stopped, aware that she was babbling, that that was the last thing she had meant to say to him. She wiped a hand across a tear-stained cheek and muttered, ‘I didn’t mean to say that.’ She gave a great sniff and said in a small polite voice, ‘I hope you haven’t been hurt.’
Mr van der Leurs wasted a moment or so looking at her—hair in wet streamers, a tear-smeared face, in an old mac fit for the refuse bin and thin slippers squelching water. And so beautiful…!
He removed the wet garment from her and took her into his arms.
‘My darling,’ he said gently, ‘why do you suppose I married you?’
‘You wanted a wife.’ She sniffed again.
‘Indeed I did. You. I fell in love with you the moment I set eyes on you at St Chad’s. I knew that you didn’t love me, but I was sure that if I had patience you would find that you love me too.’
‘You never said…’ mumbled Eulalia.
‘I cherished the thought that you would discover it without any help from me.’
His arms tightened around her. ‘I’m going to kiss you,’ he said.
‘Oh, yes, please,’ said Eulalia.
They stood there, the chaos around them forgotten, watched by silent onlookers: firemen, doctors, police and porters and the odd nurse, all of them enjoying the sight of two people in love.
* * * * *
Harlequin®
EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT
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