by Betty Neels
‘My dear, how very nice that you can join us,’ said that lady in a ringing voice. ‘How pretty you look, and how I wish I had your lovely hair. You know everyone here, don’t you? I must warn you that presently it will become very noisy and you are to say immediately if you get the headache.’
She patted Britannia’s arm, her severe features lighted by a delightful smile. ‘Jake’s two uncles are here, you shall meet them presently, they are talking to Madeleine.’
Which gave Britannia the chance to look at her. Oyster crêpe, cut far too low for such a bony chest and too elaborate for the occasion. Quite unsuitable, almost as unsuitable as Britannia’s own garment. She looked away quickly and met the smiling eyes of Corinne. ‘We’re going to sit near you, so that you will know what’s happening. Jake has to be at the other end of the room to welcome the Sint. You see, we do it exactly the same every year, if we didn’t the children would be disappointed. He’s coming now.’
The big doors opened once more and the Sint entered, with Zwarte Piet behind him. The professor greeted him with a short speech and everybody clapped while he walked, with the professor showing him the way, down the centre of the room to where a space had been cleared for him and his attendant. He was an imposing figure in his crimson and purple robes and his mitre set on a head with a lavish display of white hair and beard. He carried a book which Corinne whispered held the names of all the children present. Provided they had been good throughout the year, each child would receive a present and an orange. Bad children were popped into Zwarte Piet’s sack, but this, Corinne concluded, seldom happened.
Several of the children had come to sit on the sofa with Britannia; now they were called one by one and advanced to receive their gifts, so that there was a good deal of paper being rustled and whispered exclamations of delight going on around her. She nodded and smiled and admired the boxes of paints, dolls, clockwork engines and the like which quickly strewed the sofa, and was busy tying a doll’s bonnet more securely when she became aware that the children had given way to the grown-ups. And certainly the good Sint had been generous; Corinne waltzed up to the good man, received her gift, kissed him for it amidst a good deal of laughter, and returned to the sofa to open it; earrings, quite beautiful ones of sapphires and pearls—antique and very valuable, thought Britannia, and then turned to admire Mevrouw Luitingh van Thien’s gift, a thick gold chain with a locket and quite lovely. Everyone else had something similar too, although she was relieved to see that Madeleine’s present—an evening bag—had a less personal flavour. She was quite taken by surprise when her own name was called and the professor said: ‘I’ll take it for you, Britannia. St Nikolaas has it from me that you have been a good girl and deserve your gift.’
He brought it over presently and she thanked him in a quiet little voice and undid the beribboned package. It was a headscarf, a Gucci, pink and brown and cream and a hint of green, a lovely thing. She wondered who had bought it and the professor, who hadn’t gone away, bent and whispered in her ear just as though she had asked him. ‘I hope you like it, the colours reminded me of you.’
She thanked him again and this time when she looked at him, his eyes were warm and he was smiling, so that she smiled too. She wasn’t sure what she might have said next if Madeleine hadn’t joined the little group round them, slipped a hand under the professor’s arm and made some laughing remark about her present. ‘And just the colour I wanted,’ she went on. ‘So clever of you, Jake dear, to choose it.’ She smiled down at Britannia. ‘That’s a charming scarf— I don’t suppose you have ever had a Gucci before.’
‘No.’ The sight of Madeleine’s hand on Jake’s arm, just as though it belonged there, made Britannia uncertain. ‘I shall love wearing it.’
Emma had joined them too; she began to talk to Britannia almost immediately and Britannia didn’t see Jake and Madeleine go away. The party began to split up into groups and the children made a dutiful round of goodnights. They had sung themselves hoarse as St Nikolaas had made his dignified way out of the room once more, they had drunk their lemonade and eaten their speculaas and as much of their chocolate letters as they had been allowed, now they were more than ready for bed. The room seemed larger than ever once they had gone, but very pleasant in the glow of the many rose-coloured lamps and the firelight. Presently Marinus came in with drinks and Britannia was just beginning to worry as to how she was to get back upstairs again when the professor returned, picked her up and carried her across the hall and into the dining room, where he sat her on a chair at one corner of the great rectangular table, her leg on a cushioned stool.
‘Oh, but I can’t,’ she protested. ‘It’s a family dinner party—and I’m not dressed.’
‘You’ve said that already. Here’s Corinne’s husband to sit beside you and Oom Jiers, and if you think that a strange name, he’s from Friesland.’
He left her with her two table companions and went to the head of the table at the farther end so that she couldn’t really see him very well unless she peered round Oom Jiers’ considerable bulk. It was small comfort that Madeleine was seated quite close to him, near enough to talk to him if she wanted to. Britannia decided not to spoil her dinner by trying to see what he was doing and applied herself to Corinne’s husband, Jan, and then to Oom Jiers, who proved to be a man of wit despite his elderly appearance.
They settled down to enjoy themselves. As Jan said, there was nothing like good conversation and good food to go with it, and it was certainly that; lobster soup, rich and creamy, followed by roast leg of pork with spiced peaches, served on a great silver dish and carved, suitably, by the professor amid a good deal of joking from his family, and as well as the peaches there were dishes of vegetables, handed round by Marinus and the two maids. Britannia, doing justice to her dinner, found it all the better by reason of the exquisite china upon which it was served and the rat-tailed silver spoons and forks, worn thin with use but as lovely as the day they had first been used some time in the seventeenth century.
The sweet was sheer luxury; mangoes in champagne, served in exquisite wine glasses, and they drank champagne too, so that by the end of the meal Britannia was feeling a good deal happier than she had done. All the same, as soon as they had had coffee she decided that she would make some excuse and go back to her room; it was, after all, a family gathering and although everyone—well, nearly everyone—had been very sweet to her, she was conscious of feeling an outsider. She had her opportunity quite soon, for the professor wandered round the table as they all got up to go back to the sitting room, with the obvious intention of carrying her there.
She didn’t give him a chance to speak but said at once: ‘I’ve had a simply lovely time, but I’d like to go upstairs now, if you wouldn’t mind.’
‘I mind very much, Britannia.’ He made no attempt to lower his voice and she was painfully aware that Jan and Oom Jiers were both listening quite openly; not only that, Madeleine, from the other side of the table, was watching them.
‘I think I’m tired,’ she elaborated.
He smiled then, a tender little smile which was just for her but which must have been seen by anyone who happened to be looking. ‘Shall we compromise? Don’t go to your room just yet, we will go to the little sitting room my mother sometimes uses, and sit quietly and talk.’
She supposed that it was the champagne that made his suggestion sound so delightful, but all the same she asked: ‘But your guests? You can’t leave them.’
‘Oom Jiers will fill in for me, won’t you? And they’re not guests—they’re family.’
She eyed him steadily, not caring now that their two companions were drinking in every word. ‘Madeleine isn’t family—or is she, Jake?’
‘You are a persistent young woman, Britannia. No, she isn’t family, but I—we have all known her for a very long time, she has come to our St Nikolaas feast for years.’ He added in a slightly louder voice: ‘Of course, if you prefer, I’ll take you to your room, we can talk there just as easil
y.’
It was the professor’s mother who clinched the matter. ‘Of course you can’t leave us now, my dear. Why not let Jake take you to the little sitting room for a while? It will be quiet there and when you feel rested you can come back and join us.’
Britannia hadn’t seen her join them, she had no idea how long the lady had been standing there but in any event, she didn’t seem to mind. She looked across the table and saw Madeleine’s face. If it had been unhappy she wouldn’t have agreed, but it wasn’t, it was furious, the lovely eyes narrowed, the mouth a thin line. ‘All right,’ she said, ‘I think I should like to do that, if it’s not being a nuisance.’
So she was carried once more across the hall and through a small arched door on the other side of it, to a much smaller room, but still large by her own home standards. She guessed that it was in the older part of the house, for the windows were narrow and latticed and the fireplace was an open one with a great copper hood above it. The professor set her down on a narrow Regency sofa drawn up to the hearth, turned off the wall sconces leaving only a couple of rose-shaded table lamps burning, and sat down in a winged armchair opposite her. ‘We all love this room,’ he remarked pleasantly. ‘Mama used it a great deal when we were children, we used to come and talk to her here while she sat and sewed. When my father came home he would come straight here.’
‘Was he a surgeon too?’
‘Oh, yes, and his father before him. He died ten years ago, he was a good deal older than my mother.’
Britannia looked around her, more at ease now because the professor had apparently forgotten that he had called her his darling girl and kissed her into the bargain. The room was charming and she liked the furniture—applewood and walnut and a golden mahogany and some delicate pieces of marquetry, all welded into a charming whole by the deep red and blue patterned curtains and covers. ‘It’s delightful. You have a very beautiful house, Jake.’ She sighed without knowing it. ‘Sitting here and sewing…’
‘I shall do exactly the same as my father.’ She gave him an enquiring look, and he went on: ‘Come straight to you here when I get home each evening.’
Britannia went pink; he was joking and it hurt, but she said austerely: ‘If you brought me here to make jokes like that, then I’d like to go back to my room, please.’
‘I brought you here to ask you, in peace and quiet, to marry me, Britannia.’ He was still sitting back in his great chair, relaxed and calm and she jerked upright the better to stare at him. The sudden movement hurt her ankle and she winced, and he was at once beside her, rearranging the cushion.
‘You seem surprised,’ he observed mildly. ‘Surely you must have expected me to do just that.’
Britannia said indignantly: ‘Of course I’m surprised! If it hadn’t been for this silly ankle I should have been back in England and how could you have—have asked me to marry you then?’
‘Easily enough, although the journey would have been tiresome, my dear.’
‘Yes, but I explained—I mean, about Madeleine…you said…’
‘You said, darling Britannia—you had a good deal to say, I have never met such a girl for giving her opinion about this, that and the other.’
She kept doggedly to the point. ‘But she’s here, in your house, you—invited her.’
‘To be honest, I did not. You must understand that for a number of years Madeleine has been spending St Nikolaas with us, it has become a kind of habit, and one can hardly say: “Well, Madeleine, we don’t want you to come any more,” can one? She has, over the last year or so, taken it for granted just as, I’m afraid, it was taken for granted that sooner or later I should ask her to marry me.’
‘She still takes it for granted.’
‘Oh, I think not; I have never asked her to do so, you know, and she must surely realise by now that I have no intention of doing so.’
Britannia looked at him lovingly. Men were a bit foolish sometimes, even a man like Jake, self-assured and brilliantly clever and knowing what he wanted, casually taking it for granted that Madeleine would give way with good grace to a girl he hardly knew…’ You seem very certain of me,’ she remarked with faint tartness.
He raised his eyebrows. ‘But of course I am; you may preach at me and take me to task on every possible occasion, but you love me, don’t you?’
‘Yes,’ said Britannia, baldly, and was instantly joined on her sofa by the professor, who put an arm around her and observed with satisfaction: ‘That’s better.’ He kissed the top of her head. ‘Now let us be sensible and assess the situation.’ He paused: ‘Well, let us be sensible presently.’ He put the other arm around her and bent to kiss her, an exercise which took quite a time and which Britannia didn’t attempt to interrupt. After a little while he said: ‘How soon can you leave the hospital?’
Britannia lifted her head from his shoulder, the better to concentrate on her arithmetic. ‘Well, let me see, today’s the fifth of December, so a month away is the second of January, but I’ve got three weeks’ holiday owing, so I’d have a week to do plus sick leave to make up…’
‘Far too long—you’ll allow me to deal with it for you. I think it would be nice if we got married before Christmas.’
She lifted her head once more to look at him. ‘Jake—that’s three weeks away!’
‘Too long. Do you want to be married here or in England?’
She said instantly: ‘At home, please. Jake, you’re rushing me…’
His arm tightened. ‘Yes, I know I am, but I won’t if you don’t want me to.’
She leaned up to kiss his chin. ‘You’re really very nice when one gets to know you. I want time to get used to it all, Jake. Would you mind very much if we don’t make any plans for a few days—a week? Then I’ll do anything you say, I promise you. I’d like to tell my parents, you see they know about you, I—I told them how we met…’
‘Ah, so you knew, too.’
‘Oh, yes, but I didn’t think I’d see you again.’
The professor laughed gently. ‘You forget that I knew where you were, my darling. I had every intention of seeing you again.’
‘You said I had a sharp tongue.’
‘And so you have on occasion, my love, but it doesn’t worry me in the least, I quite enjoy it.’ There was a pleasant little interlude while he proved this statement, but presently Britannia said: ‘We ought to go back. I’d like to stay here with you for the rest of the evening, but it wouldn’t do.’
The professor looked as though he was going to laugh, although he agreed quite seriously to this. ‘But I shall carry you back to your room in half an hour or so. Emmie will help you get ready for bed. Is your ankle quite all right? We’ll have that strapping off tomorrow—I’ll come home after the morning list and see to it—you can try a little weight bearing once it’s off and the stocking is on. You’ll be walking quite soon provided you’re sensible about resting it.’
He picked her up and carried her back to the sitting room, and just as he had done earlier in the evening, bent to kiss her before he opened the door.
She was settled on the sofa by the fire once more and Jake went away again, to reappear presently with Marinus bearing a large tray with glasses, and Emmie behind him with a magnum of champagne in a silver bucket. Marinus put the tray down and went back again for a second bottle and Emmie reappeared with another tray loaded with small dishes of petits fours and canapés. A toast was drunk to St Nikolaas, someone went over to the grand piano at one end of the room and began to play and presently everyone was singing the traditional songs of the Feast of St Nikolaas, and Britannia, unable to understand any of them, nonetheless picked up the tunes and joined in, greatly helped by the champagne. Not even the sight of Madeleine crossing the room to sit beside Jake could shake her happiness. Poor Madeleine, imagining that she would marry him. Britannia, disliking the girl very much, all the same felt sorry for her.
The professor got up presently and came over to the sofa, reminded her that she was to go to be
d, waited while she wished everyone a goodnight and carried her upstairs, calling to Corinne on his way to go with them, and once in her room he laid Britannia on her bed, kissed her gently on the cheek, wished her goodnight and went away immediately, leaving Corinne looking delighted and curious.
‘I suppose it is one of those open secrets everyone knows,’ she declared happily, ‘you and Jake. When are you going to announce it?’
Britannia was wriggling out of her dressing gown. ‘However did you know?’
Corinne giggled. ‘I don’t think I exactly knew,none of us did, but we guessed. Mother’s so happy about it, so are we all.’
Britannia felt a delightful wave of happiness wash over her. ‘How nice of you—only Madeleine…’
‘She hasn’t guessed. She’s so conceited and sure of Jake that she can’t imagine him falling in love with anyone but her.’ Corinne sat down on the edge of the bed. ‘None of us likes her, she wormed her way in and she was very clever, always good company for Jake and always at the same houses and parties and dinners…she was always there, you see, creeping into his life until he took her for granted.’