by Betty Neels
He patted her shoulder and wandered away to where the others were waiting in the hall. She watched him go, feeling frustrated; she hadn’t had the chance to say half the things which were on her mind.
Charity came back into the room. ‘I’m going to put my feet up,’ she said cheerfully, ‘curl up in a chair and we can have a good gossip.’
Cressida curled up. ‘Look,’ she began, ‘I’m most grateful to you and your husband for having me but I can’t get Dr van der Linus to tell me anything...’
‘Men can be tiresome,’ observed Charity. ‘They arrange things and expect everyone else, especially wives, to know all about it. Did he mention the ter Beemstras? No? Well, they live a few miles from here, youngish, six children and desperate for someone to help with them. You see, the idea of six is a bit daunting, isn’t it? But it’s not like that at all. The three eldest are at school all day—boys, the twins are five years old and the littlest one is three. I rather think that Aldrik thought you might like to take them on. Actually, he had them in mind when he came back to Holland, but Nicola persuaded him that you would be happier with her aunt.’
She rearranged a cushion to her satisfaction. ‘If I had known I would have warned him—I’ve met Jonkvrouw van Germert once and that was once too often, and I can’t stand Nicola, she’s got her claws into Aldrik. You can’t think how pleased I was when he phoned to say he was bringing you to us.’ She beamed at Cressida. ‘If you like the idea I’ll get Beatrix ter Beemstra to come over and talk to you. They’re a happy family and the house is nice and they’ll be generous with a salary.’ She added in her friendly way, ‘It would be lovely to have you not too far away; you could pop over for coffee or lunch or something. The twins get on well with ours and the
baby’s a darling. Now I’m going to take a nap while you think about it.’
She closed her eyes and Cressida, with no chance to say a word, set about considering her situation. The idea of six children didn’t daunt her; she liked them and she thought that she would like Friesland with its wide horizons and endless fields, and, although she told herself that it would make no difference, she might see the doctor from time to time. She liked Charity and Tyco and the twins and perhaps the ter Beemstras would like her too and she could settle down with them. If she went back to England she would be going to unknown people, even if she were lucky enough to find a job quickly.
Charity’s soft voice broke into her thoughts. ‘Would you like to meet Beatrix ter Beemstra? Just to talk about it...’
Cressida took a deep breath. ‘Yes, please, if you think I’d do.’
Charity went over to the side-table by one of the windows and lifted the receiver as the door opened and the men, children and dogs came in. The doctor went straight to Cressida. ‘I’m leaving in a few minutes.’ He glanced across at Charity. ‘Are you getting fixed up with the ter Beemstras?’ And when she nodded he said, ‘Good, I think you’ll be happy with them. I’m sorry that you had such an unpleasant time with Jonkvrouw van Germert; it is a relief to me to know that you will be comfortably settled.’
Rather like finding a home for a stray kitten, thought Cressida. Now he was free to wash his hands of her. She swallowed the bitter thought.
She held out a hand. ‘Goodbye, Dr van der Linus and thank you for your kindness.’ She saw the surprise on his face and wondered what he had expected her to say.
CHAPTER SIX
STANDING IN THE porch with her new-found friends around her, Cressida wondered if she would ever see the doctor again. The Bentley disappeared into the gathering dusk and they went back to the drawing-room to have tea and then play Monopoly with the twins until it was their bedtime.
Charity went upstairs presently to tuck them up for the night and Tyco, sitting opposite Cressida, said in his kind way, ‘I think you’ll like the ter Beemstras, they’re good friends of ours, but if anything bothers you don’t hesitate to let us know. I promised Aldrik that I would keep an eye on you.’
‘Thank you very much. I’m sure I’ll be happy with your friends.’ She hesitated. ‘I didn’t like to ask Dr van der Linus but I do hope that I haven’t been the cause of any—any difference between him and Juffrouw van Germert.’
‘I can safely reassure you about that.’ He smiled at her and got up as Charity came back into the room. ‘I believe he intends to see her this evening.’
‘Oh, good, I’m glad,’ said Cressida, who didn’t feel glad at all.
Sitting between them presently, eating delicious food with Jolly, the butler, hovering benignly in the background, Cressida felt happy for the first time in days—well, almost happy; the thought that she had seen the doctor for the last time was ever present in the back of her mind. Even if he came to see the van der Bronses, he was hardly likely to see her. She wondered just where he lived and asked Charity.
‘Oh, not far away—the other side of Dokkum, about ten miles from here. It’s rather out of the way, though. He loves it, but Nicola hates it. He has a house in Leiden though—you’ve been there—handy for him, for he goes to and fro a good deal. I suppose he’ll be there for Christmas; his father died a few years ago and his mother is on a long visit to one of his sisters. He has another sister with children, I dare say they’ll be with him as well as aunts and cousins. Oh, and Nicola, wrapped in furs and looking gorgeous.’
Her husband laughed gently. ‘I hate to disagree with you, my love, but I believe Aldrik will be in England for Christmas—with Lady Merrill. He’ll be back here for New Year.’
That, thought Cressida vulgarly, will be one in the eye for Nicola, but she was instantly sobered by the thought that probably Nicola would go with him.
She went to bed presently, convinced that she would lie awake most of the night, there was so much on her mind, but of course she was asleep as soon as her head was on the pillow.
The little girls were driven to school by their father on his way to his consulting rooms in Leeuwarden and Mevrouw ter Beemstra wouldn’t arrive until just after ten o’clock for coffee; Charity took Cressida round the house and never mentioned Aldrik once. Cressida didn’t know whether to be pleased about this or not. On the one hand the sooner she thought less about him the better, but, on the other, it would be nice to know more about him.
Beatrix ter Beemstra was a tall good-looking young woman of five and thirty with corn-coloured hair and very blue eyes. She spoke good English and she had a happy face. She shook hands with Cressida and gave her a frank look. ‘Six,’ she said and laughed, ‘six children—we think they’re wonderful, but that’s because they’re ours. Will you come and give us a try? The eldest boys are at school all day, there are three—my husband takes them into Leeuwarden each morning, then there are two little girls, five years old, twins, and Lucia, she’s just three years old—we call her Baby.’
Jolly brought in the coffee and the three of them sat for an hour while she explained just what Cressida would have to do. ‘If you find it too much just say so. We still have Nanny with us, she looks after Lucia to a large extent and of course you won’t be expected to do anything but look after the children, speak English to them and be prepared to play with them and go for walks and so on.’ She smiled at Cressida. ‘Would you like to try?’
Cressida liked her and she would be kept busy enough not to have time to repine. Besides, the wages were really very generous; she would be able to save a good deal, gain experience, learn to speak Dutch, and when she was ready she could return to England. She wasn’t sure what she would do when she got there but it was something to aim for.
She said now, ‘Yes, please, if you’re sure I’ll do. When would you like me to start?’
Charity said quickly, ‘Oh, please let us have her here for a day or two, just until after Sint Nikolaas—it’s only two days away.’
Beatrix ter Beemstra agreed readily enough. ‘That will give you a couple of weeks b
efore the boys start their holidays. The twins start school in the New Year, though we shan’t send them until half-term, but of course they’ll all be home for Christmas.’ She added a little anxiously, ‘You like walking and cycling? Good—there’s a bike for you—the children go for miles.’
She got up to go. ‘I hope you’ll be very happy with us. We shall do our best to make you feel at home.’
She shook Cressida’s hand, kissed Charity and drove off in her Mini.
‘Tomorrow,’ said Charity comfortably, ‘we shall go into Leeuwarden and shop for Sint Nikolaas—he comes to the village and we all go to meet him. The children love it; he hands out oranges and sweets and they put their shoes in the hearth and he leaves something in them. Come to the kitchen with me, I must talk to Mrs Jolly about dinner this evening. Tyco will be home for lunch and so will the children.’
If it hadn’t been for the persistent niggling thought at the back of her mind about Aldrik, Cressida would have been completely happy. She felt at home—and not only with the van der Bronses, but with the countryside and the quiet. Leeuwarden wasn’t all that far away but here at the nice old house there were only fields, empty of cows now that it was winter, and half-frozen canals, and not far away, shielded by bare trees, the tiled roofs of the village, dominated by its church. She was going to be happy here, she told herself resolutely, and, indeed, for the rest of that day, in the friendly company of the two little girls and Charity and Tyco, she was.
Charity had a little car of her own, another Mini, and Cressida drove them both into Leeuwarden the following morning. It was a pleasant city with some charming old buildings; she promised herself that she would explore it on one of her free days later on and following Charity she went to the shops.
She had the rest of the hundred pounds in her purse and since she would be earning quite handsomely in the near future she bought chocolate letters for Teile and Letizia, and, at Charity’s insistence, some thick woollen tights for herself. ‘If you’re to go cycling with the children you’ll need them,’ said Charity. ‘Did that woman pay you?’
‘Well, no, but I was there less than a fortnight. I’d rather not bother about it. I’ve enough money until I get paid.’
They went back presently, laden with their parcels: bracelets for the twins, a scarf for Mrs Jolly, a box of cigars for Jolly and a rich silk tie for Tyco, and added to these boxes of sweets and crystallised fruit, and a magnificent chocolate cake, to be met by the children and Tyco and presently eat lunch. Listening to the happy chatter all around her, Cressida reflected that it was a good thing that she would soon be gone; she wasn’t serious but she was filled with a wistful longing to be happy as the van der Bronses were happy, and, since that seemed highly unlikely, the sooner she got herself settled with plenty to fill her days and her thoughts the better it would be.
Tyco came home early on the following day and drove them all to the village to watch Sint Nikolaas, on his splendid white horse with Zwarte Piet beside him, enter the village and gravely acknowledge the greetings of everyone there, and then proceed to the village hall where he delivered a homily to the children and then read each child’s name from the list in his hand. One by one they went to him to be asked if they had been good, and, since legend had it that Zwarte Piet would pop any naughty child into the sack he carried on his shoulder, they were all good, running back triumphantly to their mothers and fathers clutching their orange and bag of sweets. Teile and Letizia went in their turn and then joined in the singing as the sint departed, mounted his horse and rode away. Cressida had enjoyed the simple ceremony but there were still treats in store, she was assured by the children as they drove back to the house, and sure enough they had barely finished tea when there was a thunderous knock on the house door and Jolly came in with a small sack. Sint Nikolaas, he informed them, had called only a few moments ago and left it, at the same time reminding the children that they must put their shoes out when they went to bed with a wisp of hay in them for his horse.
Mr van der Brons opened the sack. The twins first, of course; several gaily wrapped boxes for each of them and then gifts for Jolly and Mrs Jolly, and a package for Cressida which she was made to open at once. Gloves, soft leather, lined with silk and elegant as well as warm. ‘Thank the sint,’ said Charity, ‘we all have to.’
Charity was next, and under the wrappings a small velvet box containing a pair of diamond earrings. She thanked the sint and smiled at Tyco, looking so happy that Cressida felt a lump in her throat. Tyco was last. He admired the tie, praised the sint’s good taste and vowed that he would wear it that very evening, which was the signal for Charity to mention that a few friends would be coming in to dinner. ‘I shall wear my earrings,’ she said happily. ‘We had better go and tidy ourselves before they get here.’ She glanced at her husband. ‘Do you suppose Sint Nikolaas would agree to the girls staying up for dinner?’
‘There will be so many of us that two more won’t be noticed, darling. Best behaviour, of course; Oma and Opa will be here.’
They went their separate ways and Cressida got into the grey dress which was hardly festive but would do at a pinch, she supposed. She did her face with care and took pains with her hair, all the while wondering what the doctor was doing.
Dr van der Linus was at the hospital in Leiden, using all his skill to keep alive an elderly man who had collapsed in the street that afternoon. He should by rights have been in den Haag at Nicola’s home, where her parents were giving a dinner party, but he had asked that someone should telephone them and explain that he would be very late or possibly not get there at all. After that he hadn’t thought about it at all; he was wholly engrossed in his patient. The young houseman who had sent his message had been shocked by the petulance of the voice which answered him. He was to tell Dr van der Linus that his absence was most inconvenient and that he had been very inconsiderate. The receiver had been slammed down before the young man could say anything more. He went back and said merely that he had given the doctor’s message; if the owner of the voice was the young lady the hospital grapevine alleged he would eventually marry then he for one was convinced that she wouldn’t do at all; the chief was liked and respected and unfailingly patient and courteous with the most trying of medical students. He deserved better.
The doctor, going home at last, ate his solitary supper, sent Mies to her bed and took the dogs walking. It was very cold with a moon doing its best to escape the clouds and he walked briskly. He was tired but satisfied that the man had a good chance of recovery. He didn’t think about Nicola at all, only as he let himself and the dogs into his house he wondered what Cressida was doing. ‘But of course she will be in bed and asleep,’ he muttered to himself and Caesar as they followed Mabel into the kitchen.
She was certainly in bed, but she wasn’t sleeping, she was thinking about him.
She had had a happy evening. Tyco had a large family, parents and brothers and sisters, and there had been children too. Dinner had been on a grand scale; Cressida reflected with pleasure upon the delights of lobster bisque, roast pheasant, champagne sorbets and a magnificent ice pudding. They had drunk champagne too and afterwards there had been friends calling in for drinks. It was a pity that the doctor couldn’t have been there too but she supposed that he would spend his spare time with Nicola. As long as he was happy, she thought sleepily, and nodded off. She woke in the night, sad and lonely, feeling as though she had lost something dear to her. That was nonsense, she told herself; perhaps it was a forgotten dream which had given her that bereft feeling and the small hours of the morning were notorious for their gloom. She slept again uneasily and got up to finish her packing. The ter Beemstras would be coming for her soon after ten.
She said goodbye to Tyco at breakfast, kissed the twins and promised that she would come and see them as soon as she could, then sat down again to have another cup of coffee with Charity.
‘We shall see you
at Christmas, if not before. We may be a little out of the way here but we are quite social. I do hope Aldrik comes up to Janslum—Tyco says he’ll be in England with his grandmother but he’s sure to be back for New Year. He goes to and fro the way anyone else would catch a bus, if you see what I mean.’
Mevrouw ter Beemstra was punctual; Cressida, her goodbyes said with hidden reluctance, got into the car beside her new employer, and was immediately much heartened by that lady’s profound relief. ‘I’ve been so afraid you might have second thoughts,’ she said. ‘It’s the six children—they put people off, you know...’
Cressida reassured her. ‘I don’t know much about it,’ she said, ‘but I should have thought that several children must be a lot easier to amuse than one, and they’re never lonely...’
Their drive was a short one and the house when they reached it looked pleasant. Smaller than the van der Bronses’, but with a good deal of ground around it. The door was flung open as they got out and children and dogs came tumbling out to greet them.
‘The boys have stayed at home especially to greet you,’ said Mevrouw ter Beemstra, ‘and my husband also will come for lunch and take them back with him for afternoon school. Now I will tell you their names; Willum, our eldest son, Jacobus, Friso, and the twins Sepke and Galske and the baby Lucia. They speak a little English and I hope you will speak English to them at all times, Miss Preece—must I call you that?’
‘I’d like it if you would call me Cressida and I’d like the children to call me that too. Miss Preece makes me sound like an elderly governess.’
She shook hands with the children in turn, first Willum, twelve years old, rather a solemn boy, and, she suspected, very conscious that he was the eldest. Jacobus, two years younger, had a round jolly face and a thatch of unruly gold hair and Friso, eight years old, was very like him. The twins were sturdy with bright blue eyes and blonde pigtails and looked older than their five years, they each held a hand of Lucia, a cherub with golden curls who, when it came to her turn, put up her face to be kissed and shouted, ‘Dag, Cressy!’ and burst into giggles.