A Happy Meeting

by Betty Neels

  She would have been missed by now, of course, and if Jonkvrouw van Germert had enquired, Corrie would have told her that Cressida had left with her luggage, but she didn’t think anyone would try to fetch her back. Nicola would doubtless make up some story for the doctor’s benefit and that would be the end of it. She fell to making plans—she would be in London early on the following morning, she could leave her luggage at the station, look up the nearest job centre in the phone book and get a job—any job—and then find a room, and if all else failed she would go to Castle Cary to Moggy. She was being optimistic, she knew, but domestic workers were in short supply and she would do anything while she looked around for the kind of work which she could do. The Lady magazine, she remembered, had been full of advertisements for help in the house and child-minders; she had only to buy a copy and find the nearest phone box... Carried away on a cloud of optimism, she ordered another cup of coffee.

  A train came in, not the boat train, although quite a few passengers got out and made for the exit to the ferry, and she wondered if it might be a good idea to go on board. It was warm in the café and she felt a certain comfort from the company of the nice elderly couple still sitting opposite her. She stared out of the wide window and gazed at the people hurrying to and fro and then glanced round the café. It had filled up, customers coming in as fast as those leaving; perhaps it would be a good idea to get on board before the boat train got in. Too late—it slid into the station silently and the platform was alive with passengers. There was still plenty of time before the ferry sailed and a good many of them crowded into the café, looking for seats and calling the waiters. Someone sat down in the empty seat beside her and she turned away from the window.

  The doctor said quietly, ‘Hello, Cressida.’

  She was aware of the most intense delight at seeing him; she suppressed it at once and asked coldly, ‘Why are you here? How did you know?’

  ‘Corrie told me.’ He was sitting very much at his ease and the elderly couple, gathering together their bags and parcels, gave him an enquiring look and then smiled when he spoke to them, nodding in a satisfied way before bidding him and Cressida goodbye.

  ‘How kind of Corrie,’ said Cressida, ‘and now if you will be good enough to move I’ll go on board the ferry.’

  ‘Well, no, I think not. We might have a little talk. Would you like a cup of coffee?’

  ‘I don’t want to talk,’ said Cressida bitterly, ‘and I’ve had three cups of coffee. Oh, go away, do.’

  She might just as well have asked an oak tree to uproot itself; the doctor’s massive person remained sitting comfortably in his chair, and he had every appearance of a man who intended to stay where he was until he saw fit to move. She said in a despairing voice, ‘Oh, please let me go—I’ve got my ticket...’

  ‘Have you any money?’ he asked so casually that she answered him at once. ‘Oh, yes, the rest of the hundred pounds...’ She stopped and turned to look at him. ‘Mr Tims said—but it was you, wasn’t it? You arranged it too, didn’t you? Not content with pitying me, you had to...to...’

  The doctor realised that this was the crux of the matter. ‘What is all this nonsense about pitying you? Why should I? A great girl like you, quite able to earn your living once you had a leg up. Pity is the last thing I feel for you, my girl, and the quicker you disabuse yourself of that silly idea the better.’

  He lifted a finger to a passing waiter, ordered a pot of tea and sat back, saying nothing until after the tea had been brought. ‘Pour the tea, dear girl,’ he suggested. ‘It will improve your temper and then you can tell me exactly what has happened.’

  ‘I don’t want—’ began Cressida crossly.

  ‘Tut-tut, you have no reason to be peevish; a cup of tea can solve almost any problem for the British.’

  So she poured the tea and drank most of hers until she put down the cup because the tears were running down her cheeks. She turned her head away, sniffed and put up a hand to wipe them away and had a large, very white handkerchief put into it. ‘Wipe your face and have a good blow,’ advised the doctor and when she had done so. ‘Now start to talk, Cressida, and begin at the beginning when you first arrived at Jonkvrouw van Germert’s house.’

  ‘Yes, all right, but first why did you send me there?’

  ‘It hadn’t been my intention, I had planned to send you to friends of mine in Friesland, but when Nicola suggested that her aunt would be glad to have you as a companion it seemed a better idea. I am a good deal in Leiden and I could have kept an eye on you.’

  ‘Yes, well, I’m sure that Jonkvrouw van Germert was being kind.’

  ‘Possibly.’ The doctor’s voice was dry. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t happy when I saw you in Leiden?’

  ‘I didn’t know that you already knew that I was there, did I? I’d only been there a week and I thought—I thought I’d been rather clever to get a job so quickly after leaving Lady Merrill. You didn’t tell me about her, either.’ She gave a gulping breath and so he said carelessly,

  ‘Why should I have done? Go on.’

  There wasn’t more much to tell and beyond telling him that Nicola had talked to her that afternoon she said nothing.

  The doctor asked casually, ‘So it was Nicola who told you that I found you work out of pity? I dare say that she pointed out your ingratitude, and told you that Lady Merrill was my grandmother and hinted that I had discussed the whole matter with her, even suggested that I had sent her?’

  ‘How did you know?’

  ‘I didn’t, but I know Nicola.’ He added briskly, ‘And now, having cleared up the matter, let us leave this place; the smell of food is horrendous and there are far too many people here.’

  Cressida looked at the clock on the far wall. ‘The ferry hasn’t gone—they’ll let me on if I hurry.’

  ‘No, they won’t, and don’t think that they will let down the gangplank for a chit of a girl. You’re coming back with me.’

  ‘I’m not. I refuse. I’d rather die.’

  ‘Don’t be dramatic. You’re coming back with me and my housekeeper will put you to bed and fuss over you and in the morning I shall drive you up to Friesland to some friends of mine and you’ll stay with them until we find you the perfect job.’

  ‘I bought my ticket.’

  ‘We can get a refund. Come along now, I’ve had a long day.’

  He picked up her cases and walked out of the station to the car, put the cases in the boot and stowed her in the front seat. ‘Hungry?’ he asked as he started the car.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘We’ll soon be home.’ He didn’t speak again and she was left with her thoughts and very muddled they were.

  The Bentley made light of the journey. They were in Leiden while she was still sorting out her problems and presently the doctor stopped in a pleasant narrow street lined with old gabled houses and got out, opened her door and led her across the narrow cobbled pavement and up double steps to a handsome door with a fanlight over it. He unlocked it and pushed her gently before him just as Mies came from the kitchen.

  Cressida stood in the hall, his arm around her shoulders, listening to him talking to his housekeeper, who presently clucked in a motherly fashion and led her away and up a charming little staircase to a pretty bedroom where she took Cressida’s coat from her, still clucking, and opened the door to a small and exquisitely fitted bathroom and left her.

  Cressida looked around her. The bed looked inviting; to fall into it and go to sleep at once was a tempting idea. Instead she went to look at herself in the triple mirror on the delicate little table under the window. She was horrified at what she saw; a tear-stained face, not over-clean, hair all over the place and a pink nose. She washed and combed her hair and wondered what to do next. Should she go downstairs or was she supposed to go to bed? She had no clothes until someone brought her cas
es. She opened the door cautiously and peered down the stairs.

  The doctor was in the hall and both the dogs were with him. ‘Come on down if you’re ready,’ he invited. ‘Mies is putting supper on the table—you said you were hungry.’ When she reached the bottom of the stairs he asked, ‘What do you think of Caesar? This is Mabel, rather large but as mild as a lamb.’

  His manner was brisk, like that, she supposed, of an elder brother taking dutiful care of a younger sister, and exactly what was needed to reassure her, as the doctor very well knew.

  ‘In here,’ he invited and opened a door. The room was of a good size with panelled walls and an ornate plaster ceiling from which hung a brass candelabrum. The furniture was old and beautifully cared for and the oval table had been laid with a damask cloth and shining silver and glass.

  ‘But it’s past midnight,’ said Cressida. ‘Who’s going to clear away and wash up?’

  ‘Mies has help in the mornings; the two girls who come will clear away and tidy things up.’

  Mies came in then with a tureen of soup and said something, and he made a reply which made her smile broadly as she answered him. ‘Mies says she will go to bed when you do and you are to enjoy your supper.’

  The soup smelled delicious and tasted even better, Cressida was hungry, she polished off the soup, the cheese souffle which followed and the crème brulée which rounded off their meal, and then, mindful of the lateness of the hour, refused coffee and asked if she might go to bed.

  The doctor bade her goodnight, handed her over to Mies and went to his study to finish the work he had been doing when Corrie had telephoned. The dogs went with him and he sat at his desk with them beside him, deep in thought. It was quite some time before he bestirred himself, and, with a sigh, picked up his pen.

  As for Cressida, finding that someone had taken her cases to her room and unpacked what she might need for the night, she sank into a hot bath, only half awake, and then tumbled into bed. There was too much to think about all at once; sensibly she closed her eyes and went to sleep.

  A stout girl with a rosy face and a broad smile wakened her with a small tea-tray, drew back the curtains, revealing a grey sky and a heavy frost, and then went away again. Cressida drank her tea, hopped out of bed and ran the bath. She had no idea what was to happen next but it seemed sense to get dressed and be ready for whatever transpired.

  The doctor came out of his study with the dogs as she reached the hall. His good morning was friendly and decidedly brisk. ‘Breakfast and then we’ll be off. We are expected for lunch.’

  Cressida found her voice. ‘Yes, that’s all very well, but where and what happens to me when we get there? It’s really very kind of you to bother about me, but I’ve still got my ticket...’

  He swept her into the dining-room and pulled out a chair. She sat down because it seemed the only thing to do; besides she was hungry and her eyes had caught a basket of delicious croissants on the table. Eggs too, and a sizeable dish of ham as well as elegant silver-topped glass jars filled with marmalade and jam. Mies came in with a silver coffee-pot, beaming and nodding. ‘Smakelijk eten,’ she said.

  Cressida, wrinkling her nose at the heavenly smell of coffee, said a polite, ‘Dank U,’ reflecting that she was going to enjoy every crumb of her meal.

  The doctor had seated himself at the head of the table, the dogs on either side. ‘Perhaps you would rather have tea?’ he said.

  ‘Oh, no, thank you. Do you want me to pour?’

  ‘Please. Try one of these croissants.’ He passed the basket, the elaborate silver egg stand and the salt and pepper and then enquired as to whether she had slept well.

  ‘Yes, it was a lovely comfy bed. I meant to stay awake and think but I was rather tired. Could we please talk, Dr van der Linus? There really is no need to go all the way to Friesland. I’m sure I can get work if I go back to England.’

  He helped himself to ham. ‘What as?’

  ‘Well, as a companion, I suppose...’ The memory of Jonkvrouw van Germert was a bit daunting but surely not all employers were like her?

  He passed his cup for more coffee. ‘Let us strike a bargain. Come with me to Friesland this morning and if you don’t like the idea of finding work there I will personally put you on the ferry for England.’

  She bit into a croissant. If she went back to England she would never see him again, on the other hand since she had chosen to make her way in the world that was a matter of little importance. The wretched Nicola would get round him and he would forgive her and marry her and be unhappy ever after...

  ‘You can have ten minutes,’ said the doctor in a no-nonsense voice, ‘and bring everything with you.’

  She swallowed her coffee and started up the stairs and then dawdled when she heard him say, ‘Ah, Nicola,’ as he answered the ringing phone. It was a pity that her knowledge of Dutch was so sparse and there was nothing to tell from his voice.

  Mies saw them on their way with a good hearty handshake and what Cressida took to be kindly advice. The dogs, on the rugs on the back seat, settled down, and the doctor drove off.

  ‘Shouldn’t you be at the hospital?’ asked Cressida.

  ‘Occasionally I take a day off.’ He took the road through Alkmaar and over the Afsluitdijk and she found so much to see that conversation wasn’t really necessary. They were nearing Leeuwarden when the doctor said, ‘These friends of mine—the van der Bronses, Tyco and Charity—they’ve been married just over a year, she’s expecting a baby in a couple of months, there are two little girls who are from his first marriage, Teile and Letizia—they’re twins and they adore Charity.’

  ‘They don’t mind having me like this at a moment’s notice?’

  ‘They’re pleased. They haven’t been living in Friesland very long; Tyco’s father decided to sell his business and move into a villa he owns just outside Sneek, not too far away, and Tyco took over his big house. He’s consultant at Leeuwarden and goes to Amsterdam fairly regularly. He’s a very good surgeon. We were at medical school together.’

  ‘Do you live near here?’

  ‘Yes. North of Dokkum, a few miles from the Waddenzee.’ He offered no more information and she didn’t like to ask questions; there was, she reflected briefly, no future in their acquaintance.

  Half an hour later he was stopping before the van der Brons home, a large country house set in a pleasant small park with open country all around. Nothing could have been warmer than the welcome Cressida received. She had been feeling incredibly nervous of meeting the doctor’s friends but at the first sight of them she knew that she had been needlessly so. Mr van der Brons, as large a man as the doctor, had a kind face and twinkling eyes, he was handsome too which made it all the more surprising that his wife was as ordinary to look at as Cressida herself. True, she was wearing the kind of clothes Cressida envied at first look, and she was beautifully made-up, but she was still plain. Cressida took instant comfort from that fact.

  The doctor kissed his hostess soundly, shook his friend by the hand and introduced Cressida.

  ‘Come in,’ said Charity, ‘the girls are longing to see you. Bring the dogs, Aldrik. Samson will be pleased; they can have a good run after lunch.’

  They all went indoors and the doctor said, ‘I must go back this afternoon—a clinic at four o’clock and I must call in at home on the way.’

  ‘Come upstairs and see your room?’ invited Charity, ‘I’m so glad you could come, I don’t get out a great deal.’ She patted the elegant drapery over her tummy. ‘We can have a good gossip.’

  ‘You’re very kind to have me. I wanted to go back to England but Dr van der Linus wouldn’t let me.’

  ‘Quite right, too.’ Charity opened a door in the gallery at the top of the staircase. ‘Here we are, someone will unpack for you while we’re having lunch and while the men take the children and dogs fo
r a walk we’ll get to know each other.’ She opened the door again. ‘Come down when you’re ready—we’ll look out for you.’

  Cressida, left to herself, explored the bedroom and the bathroom beyond, looked out of the window and then did her face and hair. It was rather like being in a dream, she reflected, and she supposed that sooner or later someone would tell her what was to happen next. Was she to stay here for one night? Was there a suitable job waiting for her? Or was she to stay longer and rely on local advertisements or agencies, and why had the doctor brought her all this way, as far away from the ferry as possible, or almost?

  No way was she going to get the answers to her problems, not for the moment at any rate; they were waiting for her in the drawing-room and the two little girls were there too, and over drinks and lunch the talk never once touched on herself, but after the meal, when the children went to get their outdoor things and Charity went with them, Cressida found herself beside the doctor while Mr van der Brons was telephoning.

  ‘I really must know what’s going to happen to me,’ she hissed at him. ‘I can’t stay here, I simply can’t, you must tell me.’

  He smiled down at her, very large and very calm. ‘Charity will explain while we’re out, and if when we get back you still want to go back to England I’ll run you back to Leiden and put you on the train.’