Caroline's Waterloo

by Betty Neels

  He had gone before she could do more than nod.

  It wasn’t entirely satisfactory going out in her winter coat which was brown and didn’t match her black duty shoes and stockings. She had made her hair tidy and powdered her nose, but rushing down to the front door of the hospital she thought crossly that all the girls she knew would have refused flatly to go out looking so ridiculous; but there again, she reminded herself, Radinck considered she dressed deplorably anyway; he wouldn’t notice.

  If he did he said nothing, merely stowed her in the car and drove smoothly to Apsleys where they must have expected him, for they were attended to immediately by a quiet-voiced elderly man, who said very little as he displayed rings of every variety before them.

  The Professor gave them a cursory glance. ‘Choose which you prefer, Caroline,’ he suggested. He sounded bored, and just for a moment resentment at his lack of interest at what should be an important event to them both almost choked her, but her common sense came to her rescue; why should he be interested? Buying the ring was to him only a necessary part of getting married. She picked a perfectly plain gold one and the man measured her finger and found her one to fit it before doing the same for the Professor. While he was away wrapping them up, Radinck said quietly: ‘You aren’t wearing your ring.’

  ‘It’s in the box in my pocket. I haven’t had a chance—I mean, I can’t wear it on duty and I forgot to wear it now—I’m not used to it yet.’

  ‘Will you put it on?’

  She did so, and when the man came back he saw it and smiled nicely at her. It made her feel much better and almost happy.

  It hadn’t taken much time: there was more than half an hour before she had to return to the ward, but when the Professor turned the car back in the direction of Oliver’s she supposed that he had decided that there wasn’t time for even a snack lunch and in all fairness she had said that she wouldn’t mind missing her lunch. But in Cheapside he slowed the car, parked it and walked her into Le Poulbot where it seemed they were expected.

  ‘I took the liberty of ordering for you since we have only a short time,’ observed Radinck, ‘filets de sole Leonora and a glass of white wine to go with it, and perhaps a sorbet.’

  She was surprised at his thoughtfulness and stammered her thanks. ‘But it means you have to rush over lunch too,’ she pointed out.

  ‘I’m not in the habit of sitting over my meals,’ he observed. ‘When one is by oneself it is a waste of time—one gets into bad habits…’

  Caroline resolved silently to get him out of them even if it took her a lifetime and took care not to chat while they ate. Actually she longed to talk; there was so much she wanted to know, but she would have to wait: when he had made all the arrangements he would doubtless tell her. She was surprised when he asked: ‘Which day do you wish to choose for the wedding?’

  She said with some asperity: ‘Well, how can I choose until I know when I’m to leave and when you want to go back to Holland?’

  He waved aside the waiter and sat back to watch her eating her sorbet.

  ‘Ah, yes—I saw your Senior Nursing Officer this morning. You may leave in five days’ time—by then I shall have the licence, would any day after that suit you?’

  She felt a surge of excitement at the very idea. ‘That’s…’ she counted on her fingers, ‘Sunday. Would Tuesday suit you? That would give me time to pack my things. Will you be here until then?’

  He shook his head. ‘I’m going back tomorrow—there are several patients I have to see. I’ll come back on Sunday and see you then. Would you like to go to an hotel until the Tuesday?’

  She was surprised again. ‘That’s very kind of you, but I’ll stay in Meadow Road if you don’t mind— Waterloo, you know.’

  ‘Ah, yes, I had forgotten.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘We had better go.’

  His leavetaking was casual. No one looking at the two of them, thought Caro, would have guessed that they were going to be married within a week. She watched him get into his car and drive away, her eyes filled with tears. She knew nothing about him; where he was staying, what he was doing in London, if he had friends…the only thing she was sure of was that she loved him enough to bear with his ways.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  FIVE DAYS, Caro discovered, could last for ever, especially when one didn’t know what was going to happen at the end of them. The Professor had said he was going to see her on Sunday, but once again he had forgotten to mention time or place. True, she had enjoyed several hours of shopping which had left her very satisfied and reduced her nest egg to a few paltry pounds, all the same she wished very much that Sunday would come.

  And finally come it did and Caro, burdened with a variety of presents from her friends and fellow nurses, left Oliver’s early in the afternoon. She had several hours of overtime due to her and Sister Pringle, generous after her holiday, had told her to go early rather than wait until six o’clock. She had been surprised to find her staff nurse engaged and on the point of leaving, but she had been pleased too; Caro got on well with everyone in her quiet way and she would be missed. She would miss her life at Oliver’s too, she thought, as she crossed the busy street in front of the forbidding exterior and made her way to Meadow Road, but she wasn’t daunted at the idea of living in another country; she would have lived wherever Radinck was and not complained.

  She fed Waterloo, made herself a pot of tea and spread her packages on the bed—an early morning tea-set from Stacey, Miriam and Clare, a tea-cosy from the nurses on the ward, a bright pink bath towel from the ward maid and the orderlies and some handkerchiefs from Sister Pringle, and over and above these, a cut glass vase from all her friends. She admired them at length, for with no family of her own, presents had been few and far between. After she had had her tea she went to the wardrobe and looked at the new clothes hanging there. Her wedding outfit, covered in a plastic wrapper, took up most of the room; it was a rather plain fine wool dress in a warm amber colour which, if the weather should prove cold, would go very well under her winter coat. She had bought a small velvet hat to go with it, rather expensive shoes and gloves and a leather handbag. Not even the Professor would be able to find fault with them, she considered. She had bought a suit too, a multi-coloured tweed with a Marks and Spencer sweater to go with it, and more shoes, a sensible pair for walking in, and new undies and slacks. She would have liked some new luggage to pack them in, but her case, although shabby, was quite adequate and she wanted a few pounds in her purse; Radinck had talked about an allowance in a cool voice which had made her determined not to make use of it until she was forced to.

  He arrived just as she was making toast for her tea. The afternoon had turned wet and chilly and Caroline had drawn the curtains and got out the Fodor’s Guide once more. She was sitting on the wool rug she had made for herself, the bread toasting on a fork, Waterloo sitting beside her, when Radinck thumped on the door. No one else thumped like that. She knew who it was and called to him to come in. She didn’t get up but went on with her toast-making, saying merely: ‘Hello, Radinck, would you like some tea? I’m just going to make it.’

  ‘Thank you, that would be nice.’ He took off his car coat and sat down in the shabby chair beside the fire.

  ‘Have you just arrived?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes, they told me at Oliver’s that you had left.’ His eyes lighted on the presents still laid out on the divan and he looked a question.

  ‘Wedding presents,’ said Caro cheerfully, turning her toast. ‘I’ve never had so many things all at once in my life.’

  He said, ‘Very nice,’ and dismissed them. ‘You are ready for Tuesday?’

  ‘Yes, I think so.’ She buttered the toast and got up to put the kettle on.

  Radinck looked tired and even more severe than usual and so aloof that Caroline didn’t dare to utter the words of sympathy crowding into her head. Instead she made the tea, poured him a cup and put it, with the toast, on a stool by his chair, and then set about making more toast.<
br />
  Presently when he had drunk his tea and she had given him a second cup she asked in her soft voice: ‘You haven’t changed your mind? You really want me to marry you, Radinck? One often gets ideas that don’t work out…’

  ‘I still want to marry you, Caroline.’ He had relaxed, leaning back eating his toast, stroking Waterloo who had got on to his knee. ‘I thought that we might go out for dinner.’

  ‘Thank you, that would be nice.’

  ‘And tomorrow? I have to be at the hospital in the morning, but perhaps we might go out in the afternoon. You have finished your shopping?’

  ‘Yes, thank you—I have only to pack.’

  He nodded. ‘They are all delighted at Huis Thoe. You realise that we have to return by the night boat on Tuesday?’

  ‘Yes.’ She bit into her toast, trying to think of something to add and couldn’t. She was astonished when he asked:

  ‘What is the colour of your dress?’

  ‘The one I’ve bought for the wedding? I suppose you’d call it dark amber.’ She took a sip of tea and went on: ‘I know you aren’t interested in what I wear, it’s a very plain dress—quite nice, you know, but no one’s likely to take a second look at me, if you see what I mean.’

  He raised his thick eyebrows. ‘And is that your ambition? I have always understood that women—especially young ones—like to be noticed.’

  ‘Not with a face like mine, they wouldn’t,’ Caro assured him.

  He eyed her gravely. ‘Your figure is not displeasing,’ he observed, and sounded almost as surprised at his words as she was.

  He didn’t have to wait on the landing this time. She had adopted the old-fashioned idea of wearing her best clothes on Sundays even if she wasn’t going anywhere; it made the day seem a little different from all the others, so she was ready when Radinck suggested that they should go.

  This time he took her to the Connaught Hotel Restaurant and because it was Sunday evening her green wool dress didn’t seem too out of place, and she really wouldn’t have minded; she had the sapphire on her finger, proclaiming that she had some sort of claim on her companion—although judging by the looks she received from some of the younger women sitting near them, it wasn’t at all justified—besides, she was hungry. She did full justice to the cheese soufflé—as light as air, followed by filets de sole princesse and rounded off by millefeuille from the sweet trolley, all nicely helped down by the champagne the Professor had ordered. Caro wasn’t very used to champagne; she wasn’t sure if she liked it, but with the second glass she assured her companion that it was a drink which grew on one, and although she hadn’t intended to make him laugh, he actually did.

  She spent the next morning packing her clothes and putting her small treasures and ornaments, carefully wrapped, into a large cardboard box.

  She was quite ready when Radinck called for her, dressed in the new suit, her face carefully made up. It was most gratifying when he remarked casually: ‘You look nice—is that new?’

  She told him yes, reflecting that it had been worth the scandalous price she had paid for it at Jaegers; a lukewarm compliment but still a compliment.

  They went to the Connaught again and when she observed how very nice it was, the Professor agreed pleasantly enough. ‘I stay here if I’m in England for a few days,’ he told her, and she fell to wondering where he went if his stay was protracted. Her thoughts must have been mirrored on her face, for after a pause he said:

  ‘I have a small house in Essex, but it is hardly worth going there unless I’m over for a week or more.’

  ‘What exactly do you do?’ she asked carefully. ‘That’s if you don’t mind telling me.’

  He didn’t answer her at once but remarked testily: ‘Why is it that so many remarks you make appear to put me in the wrong, Caroline?’ and before she could deny this: ‘I am a physician, specialising in heart conditions, and the various diseases consequent to them.’

  ‘But you lecture?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And of course you’re a consultant as well. Do you travel a great deal?’

  He frowned a little. ‘What a great many questions, Caroline!’

  She agreed cheerfully. ‘But you see, Radinck, if I ask them now, you’ll never have to answer them again, will you?’

  ‘That is true. I hope you don’t expect to travel with me? I’m used to being alone—I concentrate better.’

  She eyed him with pity wringing her heart, but all she said was: ‘Of course I don’t—I haven’t forgotten that I’m to be a sheet anchor.’

  He gave her a hard suspicious look which she met with a clear friendly gaze.

  She hadn’t asked what they were doing with the rest of the afternoon. She expected to be taken to Meadow Road, but it seemed that Radinck had other plans, for after lunch he left the car at the hotel and hailed a taxi. It cost Caro a great effort not to ask him where they were going, but she guessed that he was waiting for her to do just that. In the taxi he said: ‘I have a wedding gift for you, but I wish you to see it first—it may not please you.’

  She would have been a moron not to have been pleased, she thought presently, standing in front of the triple mirror in an exclusive furrier’s shop. Mink, no less—ranch mink, he had carefully explained, because he thought that a coat made from trapped animals might distress her. It was a perfect fit, and when she remarked upon this he had told her casually that Clare had very kindly supplied her measurements.

  She thanked him quietly and sincerely, careful to do it while the sales lady wasn’t there. ‘I can wear it tomorrow,’ she told him. ‘I was going to wear my winter coat…’

  She understood then that for his wife to return to Huis Thoe in anything less than a mink coat would have upset everyone’s idea of the fitness of things. She reflected with some excitement that she would be expected to dress very well, go to the hairdressers too and use the kind of make-up advertised so glossily in Harpers and Vogue. It struck her then that she was going to be a baroness—ridiculous but true. Just for a moment she quailed at the thought, but then her sensible head told her that it didn’t matter what either of them were if they could love each other—and she already did that; it was just a question of getting Radinck to fall in love with her. She wasn’t quite sure how she was going to do it, but it would be done.

  Leaving the shop Radinck observed: ‘I hope you will be pleased. I thought it would be pleasant if we gave a small dinner party for your friends and Sir Eustace and my best man this evening. At the hotel in my rooms there; we shall have to leave directly after we have been married tomorrow, so there is no question of giving a lunch party then.’

  ‘How nice,’ said Caro faintly. ‘C-can I wear this dress?’

  ‘Certainly not. It will be black ties—your three friends are wearing long dresses. Have you no evening gown?’

  She shook her head. ‘Well, no—you see I don’t go out a great deal.’ Not at all, she added silently, but pride stopped her from saying so aloud.

  ‘In that case tell me where you would like to buy a dress and we’ll go there now.’

  ‘Oh, I couldn’t…’

  He said coolly: ‘Don’t be so old-fashioned, Caroline—it is perfectly permissible for a man to buy his future wife a dress should he wish to do so. We will go to Fortnum and Mason.’

  Caro goggled at him. ‘But I’ve never been there in my life—not to buy anything.’

  ‘Then it’s time you did.’

  He was there and she was getting out of the car before she could think of any argument against this and was led unresisting to the Dress Department where the Professor, looking more severe than ever, was instantly attended to by the head sales lady.

  Having made his wishes clear he took himself off to a comfortable chair and left Caro to be led away by the sales lady to go through a selection of dresses which were all so stunning that she had no idea what she wanted.

  It was the sales lady who pointed out that green was a good colour for hazel eyes and furthermor
e she had just the thing to suit, and if that wasn’t to madam’s taste, there was a charming honey-coloured crêpe or a grey crêpe de Chine…

  Caro, almost delirious with excitement, tried them all on in turn and settled for the green; organza over silk with full sleeves gathered into tight buttoned cuffs and a low ruffled neckline. And when the sales lady suggested that she might like some rather pretty sandals to go with it, she agreed recklessly. She told Radinck about the sandals as they left the shop. ‘I had no evening shoes,’ she explained gravely, ‘so I hope you don’t mind. They were rather expensive.’

  She hadn’t been able to discover the price of the dress; the sales lady had been vague and she had watched Radinck sign a cheque without showing any signs of shock. She hoped that it hadn’t been too expensive, but it wasn’t until later that evening while she was dressing that she saw its label; a couture garment, and her mind boggled at the cost.

  They had tea presently in a tiny shop all gilt and white paint, with the most heavenly cakes Caro had ever eaten, and on the way back she thanked him fervently and then went scarlet when he said coldly: ‘You have no need to be quite so fulsome in your thanks. I have hardly lavished a fortune upon you, Caroline.’

  She turned her head and looked out of the car window, wanting to burst into tears; the last thing she must ever do before him. She said brightly, proud of her steady voice, ‘How dark it grows in the afternoons—but I like winter, don’t you?’

  She didn’t see his quick glance at her averted face. ‘You will be able to skate on the canal near Huis Thoe if it freezes enough.’ His voice was casual and quite different from the biting tones he had just used. Caroline supposed she would learn in time—not to mind when he snubbed her, not to mind when he was cold and distant; there would surely be times when they could talk together, get to know each other. It would take time, but after all, he had said that he liked her.

  He had to go back to the hospital that evening. He left her at Meadow Road, said that he would call for her at half past seven and drove away, leaving her to tell Waterloo all about it, wash her hair, do her face and put on the new dress. She had been ready and waiting half an hour or more before he returned, pleased with her appearance and hoping that he would be pleased too.