by Betty Neels
He followed her into the room and closed the door. He said irritably: ‘I’ll take my coffee where I wish to, Caroline. I’m sure you mean well, but kindly don’t interfere.’ He glared down at her. ‘I shall be going out very shortly.’
Her voice was quite serene. ‘Yes, Radinck. Do you like your coffee black?’ She poured it with a steady hand and went to sit down, telling herself she wasn’t defeated, only discouraged.
CHAPTER FIVE
THE DAYS PASSED, piling themselves into a week. Caro, awake early as usual by reason of Waterloo’s soliloquy as he paced the balcony, sat herself up against her lace-trimmed pillows and began to assess the progress she had made in that time. Nothing startling, she conceded, ticking off her small successes first: her riding lessons had proved well worth the effort. She had got on to Jemmy, the pony, each morning under Jan’s eagle eye and done her best while her tutor muttered and tutted at her and occasionally took her to task in a respectful manner, while the faithful Noakes translated every word. And she had learned the geography of the house, having gone over it several times by herself and once or twice with Juffrouw Kropp, learning the names of the various pieces of furniture from that good lady.
She had applied herself to her Dutch too; even though she had little idea how to converse in that language she had worried her way through a host of useful words. Besides all this, she had got Noakes to drive her to Leeuwarden, where she had bought wool and a pattern and started on a sweater for Radinck’s Christmas present; probably he would never wear it, but she was getting a lot of pleasure from knitting it, although as the instructions were in Dutch she had had to guess at a good deal of the pattern and enlist Juffrouw Kropp’s help over the more difficult bits.
Her eyes fell on Waterloo, who having finished his early morning exercise, was sitting in the doorway washing his elderly face; he at least was happy with the whole house to roam and a safe outdoors with no traffic threatening his safety, and she shared his opinion. The grounds round the house were large and beyond the red-brick wall which encompassed them were water meadows and quiet lanes and bridle paths. Caroline had roamed at will during the week, finding her way around, going to the village where she was surprised to be greeted by its inhabitants. She still found it strange to be addressed as Baroness and she had had a struggle to answer civilly in Dutch, but smiling and nodding went a long way towards establishing a sort of rapport.
But with Radinck she had made no progress at all. He was polite, remote and continued to live his own life, just as though she wasn’t there. True, once or twice he had discussed some interesting point regarding his work with her, asked her casually if she had been to the village and informed her that now their marriage had been put in the Haagsche Post and Elseviers they might expect visitors and some invitations, and had gone on to suggest that she might like to go to Leeuwarden or Groningen and buy herself some clothes, and the following morning his secretary had given her a cheque book with a slip of paper inside it on which the Professor had scrawled: Your allowance will be paid into the bank quarterly. The sum he had written had left Caroline dumbfounded.
But it was early days yet, she reminded herself cheerfully. He would be surprised and, she hoped, delighted to discover that she could ride. The last thing she wanted to happen was for him to feel ashamed of her because of her social shortcomings, even if he didn’t want her as a wife she would manage his home just as he wanted it, entertain his friends and learn to live his way of life. She owed him that, and never mind how impatient and irritable he became.
She drank her morning tea and presently went downstairs to her breakfast, to stop in the doorway of the breakfast room. Radinck was sitting at the table, a cup of coffee in one hand, a letter he was reading in the other.
He got up when he saw her, pulled out a chair and said politely: ‘Do sit down; I forgot to tell you yesterday that I have given myself a day off. I thought we might go down to den Haag so that you can do some shopping. My mother always got her things from Le Bonneterie there—it’s rather like a small Harrods, and you might possibly like it—if not, we can try somewhere else.’
Caroline didn’t like to mention that she had never bought anything in Harrods. She agreed happily; a whole day in his company, even if he had nothing much to say to her, would be heaven, but here she was to be disappointed, for in the car, racing across the Afsluitdijk, he mentioned casually that he had a consultation at the Red Cross Hospital in den Haag and after leaving her at Le Bonneterie he would rejoin her there an hour or so later. ‘I daresay it will take you that time to buy your clothes. I suggest that you get a sheepskin jacket and some boots—it can be cold once the winter comes.’
Caroline started doing sums in her head; her allowance was a generous one but she had no idea how much good clothes cost in Holland. She would need several dresses, she supposed, and more separates and some evening clothes.
‘You’re very silent,’ remarked Radinck presently.
‘Well, I was just thinking what I needed to buy. Would two evening dresses do?’
‘Certainly not—there will be a hospital ball in Leeuwarden in a few weeks’ time, and another one in Groningen and any number of private parties. At Christmas I invite a number of guests to the house, but before then we will have an evening reception so that you meet my friends.’
She had to get this straight. ‘But you like to lead a quiet life; you told me so—you like to work and read in the evenings. You’ll only be inviting them because of me.’
‘That is so.’ They were flying down the E-10 and there was plenty to capture her interest, only she had too much on her mind.
‘Yes, but don’t you see?’ she persisted in her quiet voice, ‘you’re having to do something you don’t want to do.’ She went on quickly, looking straight ahead of her, ‘You don’t have to do it for me, you know. I’m—I’m very happy—besides, I’d feel scared at meeting so many strange people.’
‘Once you have met them they won’t be strange.’ The calm logic of his voice made her want to stamp her feet with temper. ‘And to revert to our discussion, I suggest that you buy several dresses of a similar sort to the one you wore at our wedding.’ He glanced sideways at her. ‘The suit you are wearing is nice, why not get another one like it? And some casual clothes, of course.’
Caroline said tartly: ‘Do you want me to change my hairstyle too? It could be tinted and cut and permed and…’
‘You will leave your hair exactly as it is.’ He added stiffly, ‘I like it the way you wear it.’
She was so surprised that she asked quite meekly: ‘How much money am I to spend? I could get a great deal with about half of my allowance.’ She frowned. ‘And will they take my cheque? They don’t know me from Adam.’
‘I shall go with you. You will have no difficulty in writing cheques for anything you want, Caroline, but this time you will leave me to pay the bill when I come to fetch you.’
‘Oh—all right, and I’ll pay you back afterwards.’
‘I do not wish to be repaid. Caroline, did I not tell you that I was a rich man?’
‘No—at least I can’t remember that you did. You did say that there was plenty of money, but I don’t suppose that’s the same as being rich, is it?’
A muscle twitched at the corner of the Professor’s firm mouth. ‘No,’ he agreed quietly, ‘it’s not quite the same.’
They were in the heavily populated area of the country now, for he had turned away from Amsterdam and was working his way round the city to pick up the motorway to den Haag on its southern side. As they took the road past Leiden which would lead them to the heart of den Haag, Caro said: ‘It’s very pretty here and there are some beautiful houses, only I like yours much better.’
‘Ours,’ Radinck reminded her.
The city was full of traffic and people and a bewildering number of narrow streets. The Professor wove his way into the heart of the shopping centre and turned away down a side street to stop after a moment or two before a large shop w
ith elegantly dressed windows. It was quiet there, the houses all round it were old and there were few people about, and Caro took a deep breath of pure pleasure at the thought of spending the next hour or two in the dignified building, spending money without having to count every penny before she did so.
The Professor was known there. An elderly woman with a kind face listened carefully to what he had to say, smiled and nodded and without giving Caro time to do more than say, ‘Goodbye,’ led her away.
The next hour or so was blissful: Caro, guided discreetly by the elderly lady, became the possessor of a sheepskin jacket because Radinck had told her to buy one, a suit—dogtooth check with a short jacket and a swinging pleated skirt—three Italian print dresses and a finely pleated georgette jersey twopiece because although she didn’t think she needed it she couldn’t bear not to have it, a dashing bolero and skirt with a silk blouse to go with them and four evening dresses: she would probably never wear more than one of them despite what Radinck had said, but it was hard to call a halt, especially with the elderly lady egging her on in her more than adequate English. And then there was the question of suitable shoes, stockings to go with them, gloves, a little mink hat to go with her coat, and since it seemed a shame not to buy them while she had the opportunity, undies. She was wandering back from that department and had stopped to examine the baby clothes in the children’s department when Radinck joined her. She flushed under his mocking eyes and said defensively: ‘I was on my way back. They’re adding it up—the bill, I mean—I had a few minutes…’
She put down the muslin garment she had been admiring and walked past him. ‘It’s a lovely shop,’ she told him chattily to cover her awkwardness. ‘I’ve bought an awful lot. Did you have a successful consultation?’
He gave some non-committal answer, made some remark to the sales lady and then studied the bill. Caro, watching his face, was unable to discover his feelings about it. His expression gave nothing away, although the total was such that if it had been handed to her she would have screamed at the amount.
But he didn’t mention it. The packages and boxes loaded into the boot, Caroline was invited to get into the car, and within ten minutes she found herself in a small, very smart restaurant, drinking a sherry and eyeing a menu with an appetite sharpened by its contents. And not only did Radinck not mention it, but he talked. He told her about the hospital where he had been that morning and the patients he had seen, he even discussed the conditions he had been asked to examine. Just for a while the bland mask slipped a little and Caro, always a good listener, became a perfect one, listening intelligently, asking the right question at the right moment and never once venturing an opinion of her own, and she got her reward, for presently he observed: ‘You must forgive me, I am so used to being alone—I have been uttering my thoughts and you must have been bored.’
‘No, I wasn’t,’ said Caro forthrightly. ‘I’m interested—you forget that I’m a nurse, but there are bits I don’t quite understand. You were telling me about Fröhlich’s syndrome—I can’t quite see how hypophosphatisia can’t be medically treated—if it’s just a question of calcium…’
The Professor put down his coffee cup. ‘Well, it’s like this…’
For a bridegroom of rather more than a week, his conversation was hardly flattering: she might have been sitting there, wearing a sack and a false nose, but to Caro, it was the thin—very thin—edge of the wedge.
Back home again she went straight to her room with one of the maids bearing her various parcels. Radinck was going out again and she hoped he might tell her where, but in this she was disappointed. He was leaving the house without a word before she had reached the top of the staircase. She consoled herself by trying on every single thing she had bought, and it was only as she took off the last of the evening dresses that she remembered her daydream—playing to Radinck in a lovely pink dress, and none of the dresses were pink; she would have to go to den Haag again and buy one. Meanwhile she might do a little practising while she waited for him to come back.
He wasn’t coming. Noakes met her in the hall with the news that the Professor had just telephoned to say that he wouldn’t be back for dinner, and Caroline, anxious to keep her end up, said airily: ‘Oh, yes, Noakes, he did say he might have to stay. I’ll have mine on a tray, please, and if none of you have anything better to do, shall we get together over those carols presently?’
She was so disappointed that she could eat hardly any of the delicious food Noakes brought presently, and even though she told herself she was a fool to have expected Radinck to have changed his ways all at once, she was hard put to it to preserve a cheerful face. It helped, of course, discussing the carols with Noakes and Marta and Juffrouw Kropp and the others. She sat at the piano, trying out the various tunes to find those they knew—and when they had, she was thrilled to discover that they sang rather well. With the aid of Noakes and her dictionary, she prevailed upon some of them to sing in harmony—it was a bit ragged, but there were several weeks to go to Christmas and if Radinck was going to be away most evenings, there was ample time to rehearse.
She made herself think about her new wardrobe and the carols as she got ready for bed, banishing Radinck from her mind. Easier said than done: he kept popping up all over the place.
It was after breakfast the following morning that he telephoned her to say that he was going to Brussels and wouldn’t be back until the next day, late in the evening. ‘So don’t wait up for me,’ his voice sounded cool over the wire. ‘I haven’t got Rex with me, so would you mind walking him—once a day will do, he is very adaptable.’
Caroline made her voice equally cool; rather like an efficient secretary’s. ‘Of course.’ She wanted to tell him to take care of himself, to ask what he was going to do in Brussels, but she didn’t; she said goodbye in a cheerful voice and rang off.
The day went by on leaden feet. Not even her riding lesson raised her spirits, although she was doing quite well now, trotting sedately round and round the field nearest the stables, with Rex keeping pace with Jemmy. He did the same thing again on the following morning, taking upon himself the role of companion and pacemaker, and because the weather was changing with thunderous skies swallowing the chilly blue, Caroline spent the afternoon in the library, conning her Dutch and knitting away at the sweater, with Waterloo and Rex for company, and because she had to keep up appearances, she changed into one of her new dresses that evening and dined alone at the big table, feeling lost but not allowing that to show, and after an hour working away at the carols again she went up to her room, meeting Noakes’ enquiry as to whether she knew at what time the Professor would be back with a serene: ‘He said late, Noakes, and I wasn’t to wait up. I should lock up if he’s not back by eleven o’clock—ask Marta to leave a thermos jug of coffee out, would you?’
It was long after midnight when the Professor returned. Caro, lying wide awake in her bed, heard the gentle growl of the car and saw its lights flash past her windows and presently her husband’s firm tread coming up the stairs and going past her door. Only then did she curl up into a ball with Waterloo as close as he could get and sleep.
It was raining when she awoke, and cold and dark as well. None of these mattered, though. Radinck was home again and she might even see him before he left the house—perhaps he would be at breakfast. She got dressed in the new suit and the wildly expensive brogue shoes she had bought to go with it, and went downstairs.
He wasn’t there, and Noakes, remarking on her early appearance, observed, ‘Back late, wasn’t ’e, ma’am? I ’eard him come in—ever so quiet.’
‘Yes, I know, though I was still awake, Noakes.’
‘Pity ’e ’ad ter go again so early—no proper rest. ’E works too ’ard.’
‘Yes, Noakes, I know he does.’ She gave the elderly face a sweet smile. ‘Noakes, it’s too wet for me to go riding, I suppose?’
‘Lor’, yes, ma’am—best stay indoors. Juffrouw Kropp wanted to ask about some curtains t
hat want renewing.’
‘I’ll see her after breakfast and then go to the kitchens.’
It was still only ten o’clock by the time she had fulfilled her household duties and the rain had lessened a little. ‘I’m going for a walk,’ she told Noakes. ‘I won’t take Rex with me and I won’t go far—I just feel like some exercise.’
She put her new hooded raincoat on over the new suit, found her gloves and let herself out of a side door. The rain was falling steadily and there was a snarling wind, but they suited her mood. She walked briskly across the gardens, into the fields behind the wall, and joined the country lane, leading away to a village in the distance. She had walked barely half a mile when she saw a slow-moving group coming towards her—a cart drawn by a stout pony and surrounded by a family of tinkers. They were laughing and shouting to each other, not minding the weather, carefree and happy. Except for a small donkey tied to the back of the cart; it wasn’t only wet, it was in a shocking condition, its ribs starting through its dirty matted coat, and it was heavily in foal. It was being ruthlessly beaten with a switch wielded by a shambling youth, and Caro, now abreast of the whole party, cried ‘Stop!’ so furiously that they did. She took the switch from the youth and flung it into the canal by the side of the lane, then she mustered her Dutch. ‘Hoeveel?’ she asked imperiously, pointing at the deplorable beast, and then with a flash of inspiration, she pointed to herself and added: ‘Baroness Thoe van Erckelens.’
She was pleased to see that the name meant something to them. The leader of the party, a scruffy middle-aged man, gave her a respectful look, even if a bit doubtful. Caroline had to dispel the doubt; she turned and pointed again, this time towards Huis Thoe, just visible behind its high wall. While they were all staring at it she went over to the dejected little beast and began to untie the rope round its neck, and when they would have stopped her, held up a firm little hand. ‘Ik koop,’ she told them, and waved towards the house, the rope in her hand, hoping that ‘how much’ and ‘I’ll buy’ would be sufficient to make them agree, for the life of her she couldn’t think of anything else to say to the point. Yes, one more word. She ordered briskly ‘Kom’ and had the satisfaction of seeing them bunch together round the cart once more, obviously waiting for her to lead the way.