by Betty Neels
‘I don’t care!’ Lucillia was rapidly working herself into a tantrum.
‘Don’t care was made to care, don’t care was hung, don’t care was put in the pot and boiled till he was done,’ recited Emily, and shot round at the great laugh from the door.
‘I haven’t heard that since my old nanny used to scold me,’ said Mr van Tecqx. ‘And what is all the fuss about? If you don’t cheer up, Lucillia, Sint Nicolaas won’t come near you. I’ve come to carry you downstairs, but you are not even dressed.’
Lucillia said sulkily, ‘I don’t want to go downstairs. I shall stay here in a dressing-gown all day.’
He walked over to the cupboard along one wall and opened its doors. ’emily, what shall she wear? There was a pretty blue thing—I don’t see it.’ Not surprising, really, as there were a dozen or more dresses hanging there.
‘This one?’ asked Emily, and gave a gentle tug to the skirt of a blue wool dress—the blue matched Lucillia’s eyes exactly.
He reached up and got the dress and put it on the bed. ‘Mama is downstairs, she will lunch with us. Everyone else will come early this afternoon. Don’t spoil her day, liefie.’ His voice was gentle and very kind. ‘What is more, you are going to show her how well you can walk. I’ll be back in ten minutes.’
It took every second of that time, but Emily managed it. Even the earrings were in place. He glanced at her as he came thoughtfully into the room; her face wore its usual calm expression, but her neat head was untidy and there was a faint flush on her cheeks. She said cheerfully, ‘Lucillia is quite ready—don’t the earrings look pretty?’
‘Very. Lucillia, I want you to walk towards me. You won’t fall—if you take six steps you shall have a gold chain to match those earrings.’
It was worth the effort, thought Emily, watching the girl going towards him on her crutches, and beamed with pleasure when she reached him.
‘Splendid. If you try really hard, my dear, you will soon be able to manage with one crutch.’
He took them from her and handed them to Emily, picked up his sister and carried her downstairs to where her mother was waiting in the drawing-room. Emily, following after, set the crutches tidily against a wall, wished Mevrouw van Tecqx good morning and felt disappointment when Mr van Tecqx suggested that she might like to have her coffee in peace and quiet. She said, ‘Of course,’ in her calm voice, and went back upstairs to tidy Lucillia’s room before the maid came to make the bed and restore it to its usual pristine state.
Mevrouw van Tecqx had looked surprised, but she had said nothing, only when Anneke brought in the coffee she asked if she would take a tray up to Emily. Only when she had done so did she say, ‘You don’t mind, Sebastian? The child looked as though she could do with a cup of coffee, and I am sure that she would never ring the bell for anyone to bring it to her.’
He frowned a little. ‘I’m sorry, I had no intention of neglecting her.’
‘You are satisfied with her work?’
‘Indeed I am. Lucillia is making progress, for the simple reason that Emily gives her little chance to do otherwise.’ He smiled at his sister. ‘You like her, don’t you, my dear?’
‘Oh, yes. She is never cross and she laughs a lot just as though she’s always happy. I quite forget how plain she is.’
‘Her eyes are beautiful.’ Sebastian put down his coffee cup. ‘I will be back directly.’
His mother poured herself another cup of coffee and said nothing to this, but when he had gone she asked, ‘I don’t suppose anyone has arranged any free time for Emily?’ She glanced out of the window to the frost-covered garden and the trees and shrubs under a wintry sky. ‘It will soon be Christmas; she might like to look at the shops.’
‘She could ask.’
‘Of course, but somehow I don’t think she would do that.’
Mr van Tecqx made his way upstairs and tapped on Emily’s door. She was sitting on the window seat, one leg curled under her, and the face she turned to him was unknowingly wistful.
He came and sat down beside her. ’emily, I had no intention of being discourteous just now, although it must seem so to you. I thought you might like half an hour to yourself. Tell me, have you been out at all?’
‘Into the town, no, but I’ve been in the garden several times a day.’
He made an impatient gesture. ‘I’m sorry, I should have arranged your free time before I went away—a day off a week and at least two hours to yourself each day. Lucillia is difficult and demanding. Shall we wipe the slate clean? Have a free day tomorrow and do what you like. Come and go as you please. I’ll tell Bas, then you can have your meals when you want them. From now on you must be free after lunch for two hours at least. Lucillia is coming along very nicely even in the short time in which you have been here, it’s time she began to stand on her own two feet, in more senses than one.’
‘Thank you, but who will get Lucillia out of bed in the morning? I’ll go when I’ve done that…’
‘My mother is staying for a day or two, she and Anneke can manage tomorrow; I can do any lifting. Let us have no arguing.’
He went unhurriedly to the door. ‘You will be going out this afternoon, of course. Lucillia will be having lunch downstairs—you too. If you could settle her for her nap afterwards? We should leave the house by two o’clock.’
Lucillia was disposed to be peevish when the time came for her to go to her room and rest, but her brother bore her inexorably upstairs with Emily behind, sat her down on her bed, warned her that Sint Nicolaas would leave no presents for her unless she did exactly as Emily told her, and went away, leaving Emily to make her charge comfortable—no easy task, for Lucillia was determined to grumble at everything and everyone. It was almost two o’clock by the time Emily escaped to her own room, crammed her woolly hat on to her hastily brushed hair, got into her coat and joined the party in the hall, where she greeted everyone a little shyly before being hurried out of the house by the twins.
They hadn’t far to go. A few minutes’ walk brought them to where was the Markt with the Nieuwe Kerk at one end of it and the Stadhuis at the other. The vast square was lined with people, but Mr van Tecqx had a long friendship with the burgermeester so that his party were able to take up a splendid position close to the Stadhuis. Emily, her face glowing with excitement and cold, had been urged to stand with the children so that she might have a good view, and she cheered and clapped with the best of them when the town band marched into the square, followed by the town’s dignitaries and finally by the Saint himself, riding on a splendid white horse, his bishop’s mitre glistening in the winter sun-shine, his scarlet robes spread around him. Zwarte Piet walked beside him, armed with his birch broom and his sack, ready to pop any naughty child into its depths. There was a good deal of laughter and shouting and singing too, and Mr van Tecqx, leaning his bulk against a pillar of the Stadhuis, watched Emily and smiled at her animated little face. And his three sisters, standing close by, watched him and exchanged raised eyebrows and amused smiles. They were a close-knit family and for years they had presented suitable young women to him in the hope of his marrying again, with absolutely no success. He had many friends, several women among them, but even the most attractive of them had failed to touch his heart. He had made no secret of his bargain with Emily, but as far as they could see he treated her in much the same manner as he would adopt towards a Ward Sister in any of the hospitals he visited.
They trooped back to tea presently, and Emily hurried to Lucillia’s room to make sure that she was ready to go downstairs. Mevrouw van Tecqx was sitting with her daughter, and they spent a few minutes plying Emily with questions about the procession before the older lady went away and Emily got Lucillia ready to go to the tea-party. Mr van Tecqx came presently and carried her downstairs, and at the same time he bade Emily accompany them.
‘Sint Nicolaas will leave a sack of presents for the children as soon as tea is finished—the twins have outgrown him, of course, but the other children do still
believe in him.’
Tea was a noisy affair, and Emily, sitting quietly and saying little, thought what a pity it was that Mr van Tecqx wasn’t married with a family of his own; his house was so exactly right for children.
Tea over, there was a thunderous knock on the front door and Bas went to answer it, to return with a bulging and heavy sack which he solemnly assured the company had been left by the Saint. The children, round-eyed, crowded round while their uncle untied the sack and proceeded to hand out the brightly wrapped packages. Everyone had something; the room was littered with coloured paper and boxes as the younger ones examined their presents, while the family grown-ups exclaimed with suitable surprise at Sint Nicolaas’s uncanny powers of giving just what was wanted. The ladies opened their presents next; Emily, clasping a thin, square box wrapped in tissue paper and tied with bright ribbons, watched while each in turn disclosed their gifts: gold chains, earrings, a sparkling diamond brooch, and for Lucillia the chain she had been promised to match her earrings. Only when they had all done did Mevrouw van Tecqx ask Emily kindly if she wasn’t going to open her own gift.
Handkerchiefs, a dozen of the finest lawn, lace-trimmed and delicately embroidered. Mr van Tecqx, watching her from under his lids, saw the delight on her face and her wide smile. The handkerchiefs, when he had told Jessica to buy something suitable, had seemed just right when she had shown them to him, but now he frowned. The contrast between his sisters’ costly gifts and Emily’s struck him as being almost cruel.
Emily had no such qualms. She was touched and grateful that she had been included in the present-giving, especially as she had contributed nothing herself. The handkerchiefs were the finest she had ever possessed, and since everyone else had solemnly thanked Sint Nicolaas for their presents, she did the same.
Bas came in with champagne then with Anneke and the housemaids behind him, and everyone drank the Saint’s health, and presently the children were led away to have their hands washed and to be tidied for dinner. Dinner was to be early so that they could stay up and have it with the grown-ups, and it was when they had gone that Lucillia declared pettishly that she was too tired to stay downstairs any longer. ‘I’m going to bed,’ she declared. ‘I’ll have dinner on a tray. Emily must have it with me.’
Mr van Tecqx said, at his most reasonable, ‘I should think Emily might dine with us—it is a special occasion.’
Lucillia burst into angry tears. ‘What about me? Be by myself? I’m just left alone all day…’
‘You are tired,’ said her brother kindly, and proffered a handkerchief to mop her face. ‘When you are in bed and feeling rested you will cheer up.’
‘No, I won’t!’ Lucillia’s voice had become shrill; she was working herself into a tantrum. Emily, standing silently by, spoke.
‘I’m quite tired too,’ she declared cheerfully. ‘I’ll have dinner with you and you can explain the feast of Sint Nicolaas to me—I’ve got a bit confused.’
Mr van Tecqx had, for some reason he hadn’t examined too closely, been anticipating with some pleasure Emily’s presence at his table that evening. He frowned, but when Lucillia’s lip quivered ominously he said calmly, ‘Very well, my dear, but let me make it quite clear: Emily is to have a day to herself tomorrow and nothing—I repeat, nothing—is to alter that.’
Lucillia peeped at him over the handkerchief. When Sebastian spoke in that quiet voice she had learnt that he meant what he said. She whispered, ‘All right, Sebastian, I promise I’ll be good.’
Emily, helping her patient to bed, arranging everything just so and then sitting down to eat her dinner at a small table Bas had arranged for her near the bed, could hear the cheerful voices and laughter, sounding muted from downstairs, and longed to be there too, but there was no point in wanting something she couldn’t have, and she had the whole day to herself on the morrow. She carried on a cheerful conversation with Lucillia, and once dinner was finished, settled her against her pillows, fetched Vanity Fair and started to read. Half an hour later Lucillia was asleep, and Emily closed the book and sat there doing nothing. It was too early to go to bed and she didn’t like to go downstairs. The room was warm and she longed suddenly for a breath of air, and she wondered if anything would be said if she were to put on her coat and spend a few minutes in the garden. They would think she was mad, walking around in the dark on a cold winter’s night.
When the door opened silently she turned quickly, her finger to her lips. It was Mr van Tecqx. For a man of his size and weight he moved lightly. He bent over his sister and crossed to Emily’s chair, to bend down and speak softly into her ear.
‘You have had a busy day—half an hour’s brisk walk will do us both good. Everyone is going home very shortly, so come down and say goodnight first.’
‘Suppose Lucillia wakes up?’
‘Mama will be here.’ He caught her by the hand and pulled her gently from her chair, and still holding her hand, went downstairs. There was a good deal of cheerful bustle going on in the hall, with sleepy children being buttoned into coats and wrapped in scarves. The baby in his Moses basket slept peacefully while hands were shaken and kisses exchanged, and Emily was urged to visit Sebastian’s sisters. ‘Just let us know, and someone will come and fetch you,’ they told her in turn, and, ‘If you can’t manage it before Christmas, we shall all see you then.’
With the last car gone, the house seemed very quiet. Mevrouw van Tecqx went back to the drawing-room and sank into an easy chair. ‘How pleasant to have all the family all at the same time, but I must confess I’m tired.’
‘Then close your eyes for half an hour,’ suggested her son. ’emily and I are going for a short walk; we both feel the need of some fresh air. Lucillia is asleep, but I’ll warn Anneke as we go.’
‘What a good idea, Sebastian—the streets will be quiet too; everyone will be at home this evening.’
He ushered Emily into the hall, the dogs at his heels. ‘We’ll get you something warm to put on—no need to go upstairs again. I must speak to Anneke.’
He swept her along, through the door to the kitchen where Anneke produced a thick hooded cloak which she draped round Emily’s shoulders. It was a good deal too big, hanging down to her ankles, its folds completely concealing her. Mr van Tecqx didn’t laugh, but she was sure he was secretly amused at the sight of her. He bent down and fastened the hood under her chin, got his coat and ushered her out of the front door.
The cold air took her breath, but only for a moment. The street was quiet, the steeple roofs of the houses glistening with frost under a pale moon, the canal glistening icily under it. Mr van Tecqx took her arm beneath the cloak and marched her briskly to the end of the silent street and over an arched bridge into another narrow street with another bridge at its end. Emily recognised the Stadhuis as they skirted one end of the Markt, but they didn’t stop.
‘Too dark to see much,’ observed her companion. ‘We will go as far as the Oude Kerk and Sint Agathaplein.’
Emily, trotting to keep up with his long strides, had little breath to reply. She contented herself with seeing all that she could. In the moonlight the houses they passed appeared to be straight out of the Middle Ages. She drew sufficient breath to say so and was told good-humouredly that that was exactly when they had been built. She saved her breath then until they reached the Oude Kerk and just beyond the cloister gardens. In summer, she was told, they were a splendid sight, and even in winter they were a haven of peace and quiet, in spite of the fact that busy Phoenisstraat was on the other side of the garden. Mr van Tecqx stopped in the shadow of the Oude Kerk’s mighty tower. ‘I should have enjoyed taking you round Delft, but unfortunately I shall be in Amsterdam tomorrow. I will tell Bas to give you a map so that you can find your way easily. Have you sufficient money?’
Emily peered up at him from the depths of the hood. ‘Yes, thank you—I got some money changed before I left England.’
‘If you want to lunch out, any of the coffee shops are good.’ He took her arm aga
in. ‘We will go back along Oude Delft.’
There were more little bridges to cross until they reached the narrow cobbled way beside the canal, and presently crossed it once more to reach a bewildering network of lanes and streets, although, Mr van Tecqx pointed out, it was pretty difficult to lose oneself, for there was always the Nieuwe Kerk towering above the rooftops.
Outside his front door once more Emily paused to say politely, ‘Thank you, Mr van Tecqx, I enjoyed that very much.’
He paused, the door key in his hand. ‘So did I.’ He stared down at her nice little face, framed in the thick hood. ‘You look quite charming in that thing.’ He bent and kissed her, then straightened up, smiling.
She went past him as he opened the door. It was the moonlight, she supposed, and perhaps he had had too much champagne. She took the cloak off, and he took it from her and cast it on a chair. She thought soberly that she had discarded the gentle delight of their walk with that garment; she was Lucillia’s nurse once more, fulfilling her side of the bargain.
Bas appeared silently, bearing a tray of coffee which he carried into the drawing-room, and Emily murmured goodnight and made for the staircase.
‘Not so fast!’ Mr van Tecqx sounded amused. ‘You must have a warm drink after that freezing air,’ and he propelled her into the room where Mevrouw was still sitting.
She put down the book she was reading. ‘Well, did you enjoy your walk? Is Delft not beautiful in the moonlight, Emily?’
Emily agreed, and Mr van Tecqx said nothing at all, but sat in his chair drinking his coffee and listening to his mother’s easy chatter. Emily had very little to say for herself either, and presently, after what she hoped was a suitable interval, she said goodnight and went to her bed.
Lucillia was still sleeping soundly. Emily wondered if she would be difficult in the morning; she would have to say good morning to her before she left the house. She would spend the day exploring. By day Delft would be just as beautiful and much easier to see. Mr van Tecqx would be an excellent guide, she reflected sleepily, but if ever—and it wasn’t likely—she found herself out with him again she would have to take care to keep her distance. His kisses, lightly given, were a little disconcerting.