by Betty Neels
CHAPTER SIX
RATHER TO Emily’s surprise, Mevrouw van Tecqx was already at breakfast when she went downstairs. ‘I don’t see a great deal of Sebastian,’ she explained, ‘so I came down early so that we might have a little talk before he left. I am so glad that he will be at home for a few weeks; he goes back to London in January, I believe.’ She poured coffee for Emily and handed her the cup and saucer. ‘You have no plans, my dear? Lucillia is making good progress, is she not, but you are not counting on leaving us before she is in better heart?’
Emily laid a slice of cheese on her bread. ‘No, mevrouw, I told Mr van Tecqx I would stay as long as I was needed. That was the bargain we made. I can never repay him for operating on Father…’
‘Oh, I think that is mistaken on your part, child. You are more than repaying him. Where do you plan to go first today?’
‘Well, there’s so much to see—I thought the Nieuwe Kerk first, then the Oude Kerk, and then I’ll walk about and get my bearings. Mr van Tecqx told me I can get lunch in any of the coffee shops, and then I’ll look at the shops for a while…’
‘It gets dark early, you must come back when you wish. Bas will get you tea if you would like that, and of course you will dine with us. Sebastian will be back soon after six o’clock. If you want to stay out for tea, there is a charming little café at one side of the Markt; go through the shop into the little room beyond; it will be quiet, and the cakes are delicious.’
Emily poked her head round Lucillia’s door before she left the house and found her sitting up in bed eating her breakfast. ‘I’m just off,’ she said. ‘I’ll look in the shop windows and study the fashions and tell you all about them when I get back.’
She whisked herself away quickly before Lucillia could say more than goodbye.
Armed with the street map Bas had pressed upon her, she set out. The Markt was close by and to her delight it was market day. There were stalls everywhere, selling everything. It was still early, but they were already busy, and Emily roamed around, admiring the flowers and fruit and the rows of undergarments, vivid blankets and material by the yard blowing in the strong wind. The Nieuwe Kerk—and not so new, since it had been built in the fourteenth century—was vast and, so early in the day, almost empty of people. Emily wandered up and down and spent quite a time contemplating the mausoleum of the murdered William of Orange and the monuments to the House of Orange, a great many of them lying in the vaults below the choir. She left at last and found her way to Oude Delft and so to the Oude Kerk, built a century earlier, painstakingly restored; there were any number of magnificent tombs here too, and the great bell in the Oude KerkTower, which, according to the English guide book she found in the church, was only tolled for great joy or deep sorrow.
It was only a step to Sint Agathaklooster and the gardens. She stood looking around her, thinking of the previous evening with Mr van Tecqx. It was too cold to stand still for long, so she walked back the way she had come and found a coffee shop and then, much refreshed, walked to the Huis Lambert van Meerten, a museum housing Delftware and antique furniture. It was pleasant not to have to hurry or look at the clock. It was well past noon when she went back to the coffee shop she had discovered earlier and had more coffee and a kass broodje before setting off once more, this time to look at the shops. She spent a long time strolling round Reynders, on the edge of the Markt, which sold genuine Delftware. When she had some money, she decided, she would buy a cup and a saucer, or perhaps a plate, and take them back for her father, and a little vase for Mrs Philips.
There were some stylish dress shops too, although Lucillia had told her she always went to den Haag for her clothes. Emily, pressing her unpretentious nose against the plate glass, would have been happy enough to enter any of them and fit herself out. It was growing dark by now, although it wasn’t yet four o’clock. Time for tea, she decided, and found her way to the café Mevrouw van Tecqx had mentioned. Some of the tables were occupied, but she found one to herself and asked for tea and cakes. The cakes were very large, smothered in cream and simply delicious; Emily lingered over the small meal and then walked back to Mr van Tecqx’s house, pausing frequently to look in the shop windows. Presently she had left the Markt and the lighted streets behind her and entered the quiet world of cobbled ways beside small canals and old, beautifully restored houses. She paused on the steps of the house before she rang the bell and looked around her. The street was quiet, light from the windows reflected in the quiet water of the canal. It was cold; her breath streamed out in a halo around her and she could smell the frost in the air. It would be another lovely moonlit night. She wondered about Mr van Tecqx, driving back from Amsterdam after a day’s work. Doing what, she wondered—operating perhaps, or examining or teaching? She sighed and wished she knew more about him.
Bas opened the door in answer to her ring. He beamed at her in his kindly fashion and asked, ‘Tea, miss?’
Emily shook her head. ‘No, thank you, Bas, I’ve had it.’
A remark which he seemed to understand, but she was glad to see Anneke come into the hall.
‘A good day, miss? You have eaten? Dinner is at half past seven and Mevrouw is with Juffrouw Lucillia. She is good all day.’ She nodded and smiled.
‘I had a lovely day, thank you, Anneke, I’ll go and see Lucillia when I’ve removed my coat.’
Emily supposed she was entitled to have the evening to herself if she had wanted it, but she had nothing to do; wandering the streets and drinking coffee at cafés was hardly her scene, and to sit in her room and read seemed a tame ending to her day. She tidied herself and went along to Lucillia’s room.
She was still in her chair, leafing through a magazine, and her mother was sitting with her, knitting. They looked up as Emily went in and Lucillia gave a delighted shout. ’emily, have you come to put me to bed? I am so tired of this chair, but I must sit until Anneke has finished in the kitchen.’
Mevrouw van Tecqx put down her knitting. ‘I’m not quite strong enough to help Lucillia and I am afraid I am often clumsy.’
Emily thought she looked tired; probably Lucillia had been tiresome. ‘Well, I came to see if I could take over. I can manage without Anneke and I expect she has enough to do in the kitchen.’
Mevrouw van Tecqx cast her a grateful look. ‘That would be kind of you, Emily, but you are still free, you know.’
‘Yes—well, I’ll just see to Lucillia, it won’t take long and I haven’t anything else to do.’
‘You enjoyed your day?’
‘Oh, yes, indeed I did. Delft is an enchanting town, and it’s small enough to find one’s way easily.’
Mevrouw van Tecqx went away and Emily began on the business of getting Lucillia into her bed. It took a good deal longer than usual, for she was reluctant to use her crutches, declaring the physiotherapist had hurt her abominably that morning. ‘She made me walk too much. I don’t know why she bothers; I shall never walk properly again.’
‘Well, now that’s a pity, because I had an idea while I was out. I can’t see why one day soon we shouldn’t go for a walk round the shops. I can manage the chair, only of course you may need to take a step or two if we stop for coffee or to buy something.’
Emily had Lucillia’s full attention now. ’emily, you mean that? But I don’t suppose Sebastian would allow it.’
‘Well, I don’t mean straight away—in a week or two perhaps: we need not go far at first, but you’ll need to work hard at your exercises and forget all your worries about not walking properly again. Of course you will; it’s a question of time and patience, both boring, I know, but if only you can make up your mind that you’ll be as good as new…’
She arranged Lucillia in bed and wheeled the bedtable close ready for the tray, and when Anneke came bustling in with it she waited only long enough to make sure that her patient had all she wanted before going to make herself presentable before going downstairs. It was also almost half past seven, and for all she knew Mr van Tecqx was already ho
me; the house was big enough to smother any sound from below, and she would hate to keep him waiting. On the other hand, she didn’t want to make an uneasy third in the drawing-room.
She had reached the bottom of the staircase when the front door opened and he came in, bringing a rush of cold air with him. He put his bag down and threw his coat on to a chair.
‘Hello, I’m almost late, aren’t I? Be a good girl and pour me a drink while I wash and say good day to Lucillia.’ He went past her, but half-way up the stairs stopped and turned round. ‘Did you have a good day?’
‘Yes, thank you. What do you want to drink, Mr van Tecqx?’
‘Whisky—two fingers and a little water.’
Emily went into the drawing-room and found his mother sitting by the blazing fire, her knitting in her lap. She looked up as Emily went in and said, ‘Sebastian is back? Bas got me a drink, my dear, will you help yourself from the tray?’
‘Thank you, mevrouw. Mr van Tecqx asked me to pour him a whisky.’
She did it carefully and put the glass on the tray on the lamp table by his chair just as he came into the room. He shut the door behind him and stood watching her for a moment. In her plain woollen dress she was really not worth a second glance, and yet she had an aura of content and quiet which was most soothing after a long day in the operating theatre.
‘That looks good,’ he observed. ‘Have you a drink, Emily? What can I get you?’
She turned to look at him, smiling a little; her face was slightly flushed and her lovely eyes sparkled. Just for a moment in the soft light of the lovely room, she looked beautiful. ‘Sherry, please.’ Her voice was a delight too… Sebastian poured the sherry, smiling cynically; he must be tired to allow such an absurd thought to enter his head. He gave her the sherry and went to sit down and engage his mother in small talk until Bas came to tell them that dinner was served.
Emily excused herself soon after they had finished and had their coffee; Lucillia would expect her to tuck her up for the night even though she was technically free until the morning, and Mr van Tecqx made no demur when she did so. He wished her a polite goodnight, opened the door for her and shut it behind her with something of a snap, so that his mother gave him a thoughtful look as he sat himself down again. She was far too wise to say anything, merely remarked on the pleasure of the Sint Nicolaas evening. ‘So quickly over,’ she observed, ‘but how the children love it! I think Emily enjoyed herself very much—she is good with children, isn’t she?’
He settled in his chair. ‘They’re nice children,’ he said blandly. ‘I’ll have to leave early in the morning, Mama—you will forgive me if I am not here when you go home? The car will come for you?’
‘Yes, thank you, dear. Have you a busy day again?’
‘In Amsterdam, yes. I’m taking Beatrix van Telle out to dinner in the evening.’
‘Such a charming woman,’ observed his mother sweetly. ‘Now tell me, what plans have you made for Christmas?’
By the end of the following day Emily wondered wearily if this was to be the pattern every time she had a day off. Lucillia had been as unco-operative as she knew how. The physiotherapist had fulfilled her task with a wooden expression and heaved an audible sigh when her session was over. At least she could go away, thought Emily, faced with a virago who alternately wept and raged at her, refused to eat and made life a misery for anyone who came near her. Luckily her mother had gone home soon after breakfast and Mr van Tecqx was away long before that. Emily bore the brunt of her patient’s ill humour, preserving a calm face and unending patience, but by the evening she was worn out, and when Mr van Tecqx arrived back home and meeting her in the hall, bearing a tray laden with her patient’s supper, enquired how his sister did, all she could say with a wooden face was that Lucillia hadn’t had a good day.
He took the tray from her and put it down on a console table, and gave her a thoughtful look. She was pale and tired, her hair had had no attention for some time and her nose shone. ‘You haven’t had a good day either,’ he said, and when she went to pick up the tray, ‘No, leave that, I shall take it up. Go into the drawing-room and wait for me there, Emily.’
Emily did as she had been told. She was really too tired to argue, anyway, and to sit down in the quiet room was bliss. She was actually on the point of dropping off when he returned, poured her a drink and put it into her hand. ‘I gather from Bas that Lucillia has been playing up?’
Emily nodded and gulped at her sherry. ‘Perhaps I’m not…’ she began, and then, ‘It may have been a mistake, choosing me. I mean, I think I’m not good enough. I’m so sorry—I’ve done my best and I truly like Lucillia— I thought we were making headway too.’
Mr van Tecqx sat himself in his chair, a glass of whisky in his hand. ‘So what do you propose that I should do?’ he wanted to know. He seemed unconcerned.
‘Well, perhaps you ought to find someone with more experience than I have.’
‘You wish to throw in the sponge?’
She sat up very straight. ‘Of course not! It’s a challenge, isn’t it?! But it isn’t me that matters…’ Mr van Tecqx winced at the grammar, but she didn’t notice. ‘It’s getting Lucillia well again—she needs something to make her make the effort and forget that she’s been ill. She needs to have her mind taken off that, and I’m not enough.’
Mr van Tecqx stared down at the glass in his hand. ‘Let us get something straight. You have done a great deal for Lucillia. I knew that you were the right person for her, and you are. You feel a failure because you have borne the brunt of her impatience and frustration, but you have by no means failed, Emily. Will you hang on, however tiring she is? I will think of something—you are quite right, she needs something or someone to give her that final impetus…’
Emily put down her glass; the sherry had gone to her head and she was in no fit state to disagree with anything Mr van Tecqx might suggest.
‘Very well, Mr van Tecqx, and thank you. I’ll go back to Lucillia…’
‘No, you won’t. I have told her that you are dining with me. She is eating her dinner and had the grace to agree with me that you needed food as much as anyone.’
He got up and tugged at the old-fashioned bell rope by the side of the fireplace, and when Bas arrived he asked if dinner could be put forward half an hour. He then poured a second glass of sherry for Emily, observed that he would be back very shortly and left the room.
She sipped her drink, aware that it was a silly thing to do since she had had very little to eat all day. By the time he came back she was half asleep, but with an effort she made conversation until Bas came to say that dinner had been served.
They were half-way through their soup when Bas went to answer the telephone and came back to say that Juffrouw van Telle was wanting to know if she was to be picked up as arranged. As he spoke in Dutch Emily didn’t understand him, but she was aware of Mr van Tecqx’s quick frown as he excused himself and left the table. He came back a few minutes later and embarked at once on a gentle stream of talk which gave nothing away as to his true feelings, which, Emily privately considered, were vexatious to say the least.
They had their coffee at the table, and presently she went back upstairs to find a chastened Lucillia. She was barely inside the room when her troublesome patient cried, ’emily, you won’t go away, will you? Sebastian says you will if I can’t stop behaving like a spoilt baby. He’s not often angry, you know, but just for a little while he was. He said you were a treasure and he’d never find your equal, even if he searched the world over.’
Emily felt a pleasant glow; it was more than pleasant, it was exciting too, although she didn’t know why; it was doused almost at once as Lucillia went on, ‘He says you’re the best nurse he has had to deal with for years.’
‘How very kind,’ said Emily in a flat voice. What on earth had possessed her, even momentarily, to suppose he had meant anything else?
She saw very little of Mr van Tecqx during the next few days, but she did meet Ju
ffrouw van Telle, who came to visit Lucillia, bringing with her an armful of books and a bunch of hothouse flowers which she thrust at Emily with an abrupt request that they should be put in water instantly.
As she did so, Emily was conscious of the fact that she was being studied closely. ‘You are Lucillia’s nurse?’ enquired Juffrouw van Telle, stating the obvious. ‘You don’t look very strong.’
Her English was good and Emily thought for the hundredth time since she had come to Holland what a disadvantage it was when everyone seemed to speak her own language as well as she did herself, while she had difficulty in making sense of even the simplest sentence in Dutch.
What to answer? She could, of course, flex her muscles or give a demonstration of how she got Lucillia in and out of bed, not so much by the use of strength as by knowing how to do it properly. She contented herself with a smile which was wiped off her face as she left the room and heard Juffrouw van Telle’s rather shrill voice exclaim in English, ‘But, my dear Lucillia, what a very plain girl!’
Emily slowed her footsteps and unashamedly eavesdropped. The visitor gave a tinkling laugh. ‘You know, I was a little uneasy when Sebastian told me he wouldn’t be able to dine the other evening because he felt he should remain at home. When I asked him why he said it was because your nurse was in need of support—I pictured some lovely English rose flirting with him, but I see I wasted my concern.’
Emily trod silently down to the kitchen, where she begged a vase from Anneke, rammed the flowers in in a ruthless fashion and accepted a cup of coffee from the housekeeper.
It was her own fault for listening, of course, but she felt a little better when Anneke said, ‘It is Juffrouw van Telle who visits? When our Lucillia was so ill, she came not—she is afraid, you understand, that she is ill also.’ She shook her head. ‘Not good.’