by Betty Neels
They strolled round the town after tea and then drove on down to Felixstowe for dinner. The hotel at which they stopped was, Alexandra considered, far too grand—it would cost a fortune to pay for their meal, and one look at the menu confirmed her fears. She was hungry, for their lunch had been rather a snatched affair, and although she considered suggesting paying for herself, she decided against it, Taro would probably turn nasty if she did—unlike Anthony, she found herself thinking—so the only thing was to plead a lack of appetite and choose an omelette, which while doing very little to stay her hunger would at least reduce the bill by several pounds. She was glad that she had done so when Penny asked for the most expensive items on the menu, and the doctor, after a moment’s hesitancy, chose an omelette for himself.
The ferry, when they boarded it, was half empty and Alexandra persuaded Penny to go to their cabin. ‘An early night will do you good,’ she coaxed. Penny was sitting on her bunk pulling off her clothes and tossing them around carelessly. ‘What are you going to do?’ She shot Alexandra a suspicious glance. ‘Are you going back to talk to Taro?’
Alexandra took off her coat. ‘No.’ She had been entertaining that very idea. ‘I’m coming to bed too.’
They went ashore after an early breakfast, and if Alexandra had expected the doctor to ask her why she hadn’t joined him after seeing Penny to their cabin the night before, she was to be disappointed; he didn’t mention it, merely hoped politely that they had both slept well and invited them to make a good breakfast before resuming his conversation with his aunt.
Penny, as was to be expected, demanded in the prettiest way imaginable to sit with Taro while he drove, which left Alexandra on the back seat with Miss Thrums. Not that she objected to this; she liked the lady very much; they got on very well together and she suspected that Miss Thrums was a good deal more observant than she appeared to be. She was an amusing talker too and embarked at once on a lively description of the country through which they were passing as they left the Hoek van Holland behind them.
It was still not quite light. The little town gave way to flat green fields, the ribbon of road running smoothly between them, the church spires of the next village already visible on the horizon. ‘Monster,’ Miss Thrums explained, ‘a peculiar name, is it not? We turn off here so that we may avoid Den Haag. It’s a pleasant road, running parallel to the motorway, and in a car such as this one, infinitely preferable. Our speed, you know.’
Alexandra nodded; the Morris was a splendid car but hardly built for competition with the Mercedes, Citroëns and Saabs which had come off the ferry. ‘You know this road well?’ she asked.
‘Oh, dear me, yes. Taro brings me over on holiday at least twice a year—it makes a nice change.’
Alexandra thought of the dear little cottage they had left; it would have to be something very special indeed to make the change worthwhile. So far she hadn’t seen anything which particularly caught her eye, although in all fairness she suspected that the view she was looking at from the car window wasn’t a fair sample of rural Holland, an opinion she changed very shortly, for there was a canal running alongside the road now and the green fields had given way to patches of woodland.
‘We’re almost in Leiden,’ Miss Thrums informed her.
They drove through the heart of the little city and Alexandra, oblivious of Penny’s chatter, stared around her. This was Holland as she had imagined it; old houses with gabled roofs, tree-lined canals, cobbled streets, and despite the spate of traffic, a delightful air of not belonging to the twentieth century at all, but still living in its glorious past. It was disappointing that Taro didn’t slow down at all, but kept steadily on through the outskirts, across the motorway and into a country road which presently curved round an arm of water softened by trees. They became thicker as they drove, with here and there a clearing in which was set a small neat house with one or two outbuildings, but these in turn gave way to a high iron railing, painted black and gold-tipped, enclosing what was undoubtedly the grounds of a house, for there were smooth stretches of lawn, well arranged groups of trees and enough shrubs and flower beds to make the whole a colourful sight once winter had done with them.
‘Now, that’s a very pleasant place,’ commented Alexandra, craning her neck to see as much of it as she could.
‘I have always thought so,’ agreed Miss Thrums. ‘Each time I come here I realize how elegant it is.’ As she was speaking the doctor had swung the car between two stone gateposts, into a smoothly gravelled drive which split in fifty yards or so, to encircle an ornamental pool with a little fountain in its centre before opening on to a big sweep before the house. It was of a comfortable size, of stone painted white and with a large porch supported by pillars. The front door was painted a glossy black, as were the frames of the large windows, and running across the face of the house above them was a wrought iron balcony with similar large windows opening on to it. A satisfying, comfortable house and meticulously maintained. Alexandra looked in vain for peeling paint and shabbiness; if this was Taro’s house, then it didn’t fit in at all well with his comfortable old tweeds and the Morris 1000. She was on the point of forming a carefully worded question when Penny forestalled her. ‘Is this yours, Taro?’ She was very excited. ‘Do you mean to say that you live here? It’s enormous!’ Her eyes were everywhere, taking everything in. ‘You must be…’
He interrupted her smoothly: ‘This is my home, yes. Shall we go in and have coffee before we do anything else?’
The door opened as they reached it and an elderly man, rather portly, greeted the doctor, bowed slightly to the rest of the party and ushered them into the hall. ‘This is Pieters,’ said Taro, and smiled at him. ‘Here is my aunt again, as you see, and this is Sister Dobbs.’
Alexandra shook hands and said how do you do because Taro had spoken English and obviously Pieters must know some at least, but Penny, when it was her turn, merely nodded her head in an off-hand way and made no effort to shake Pieters’ hand, so that Alexandra wondered uneasily that she had done the right thing and then decided that she had; it was Penny who had been a little rude, but unintentionally so, she felt sure.
They walked across the hall, a spacious place with white-painted walls and a staircase opposite the door, its wings disappearing left and right to the floor above. A little behind the others, Alexandra looked around her. The furniture was old and beautifully cared for, the pictures on the walls were mostly oil paintings, dim portraits and wintry landscapes, and the ceiling had some splendid plaster-work. She followed the others through an arched double door and paused again to take stock of her surroundings. The sitting-room, perhaps? Though it was splendid enough to be a drawing-room—whichever it was it was large and lofty enough to accommodate ten times their number and very comfortable besides, with great armchairs and sofas and small tables, bearing delicate porcelain reading lamps and silver bits and pieces. There was a great display cupboard along one wall and thickly cushioned window seats, exactly right to curl up on with one of the books housed in the revolving bookcase at the other end of the room, and just to complete the picture there was a bull terrier coming across the thick carpet to meet them and behind him, two nondescript cats. But she couldn’t linger by the door any longer, she joined the others, and when the doctor invited her to sit down, did so, listening to Penny’s excited comments and giving polite answers to Miss Thrums’ sensible ones. To Taro she spoke not at all, and that was made easy by the fact that he didn’t address her.
They drank their coffee from delicate china borne in on a massive silver tray by Pieters. Penny commented upon these too and even essayed a guess at the value of the tray, a remark which sent Miss Thrums’ eyebrows up and caused a faint look of distaste to pass over the doctor’s features, but it was only there for a second, he was laughing at her exuberant spirits before Alexandra could be sure that it had been there at all.
‘You would like to go to your rooms, I expect,’ he declared presently. ‘Aunty, will you take Penny
up to the little room at the end of the back corridor? I’ll see Pieters about the luggage.’ And when Alexandra made to follow them: ‘Not you, Miss Dobbs—a word with you, if you please.’
He had spoken so quietly that the others, not hearing, were already crossing the hall towards the staircase. She felt her heart quicken, probably he was only going to give her instructions about Penny, but even that would make a nice change from the few polite utterances he had made during the morning. She sat down again, looking, she hoped, composed.
The doctor didn’t sit down, but took up his position before the brightly burning fire in the wide hearth, with Butch, the dog, beside him. He said on a laugh: ‘You are surprised, Alexandra?’
‘Yes,’ she answered baldly, and then cried impulsively: ‘And to think I chose an omelette!’
Only for a moment was he puzzled, then he let out a great bellow of laughter. ‘Oh, my delightful Miss Dobbs—I wondered what had happened to your appetite, but I supposed you to be nervous of the crossing. How kind and thoughtful of you—I cannot call to mind any one of my acquaintances who would have given my financial state a thought when ordering their dinner at my expense.’
This annoyed her and she said with a decided snap: ‘Naturally they wouldn’t, they knew that you could afford it—I didn’t.’ She cast him a lowering look and was further annoyed to find him smiling.
‘You do not approve, my dear Miss Dobbs?’
‘Of you pretending to be poor? Or that you have a lovely house?’ She tried to make her voice cool and reasonable. ‘It’s no business of mine, Doctor; I’m only here on a job.’
He was still smiling. ‘I’m not aware that I ever led you to suppose that I was a poor man. You’re quite put out, aren’t you, dear girl? Perhaps it would be best if we continue our talk later, I daresay you’re tired, but there is something…’ He became all at once businesslike.
‘Penny—she is to see Professor van Toller in two days’ time. I shall be very interested…’ he paused. ‘I had thought, once or twice—perhaps you hadn’t noticed?’ He gave her an inquiring, wholly professional look.
‘Yes, I had.’
He nodded in satisfaction. ‘A foolish question to ask, I beg your pardon. But not enough to go on, is there?’
‘No.’ She had a sharp recollection of Penny taking the wheel from her and the look of complete awareness in her blue eyes, but he had never asked her about that afternoon, and since he obviously considered her to have been the one at fault, she had no intention of telling him now. Besides, telling him would make no difference now. She glanced round the lovely room and tried to imagine Penny living in it, for undoubtedly that was what she intended to do; her attitude towards Taro had become slightly proprietorial since their journey had begun, she must feel very sure of him, and he wasn’t such a fool that he couldn’t see that for himself. He wanted it, of course; a vivid memory of his white and angry face as Penny had rushed out of the car and into his arms made Alexandra feel a little sick and her heart twisted painfully. She wondered, not for the first time, why he had wanted her to come. Surely Miss Thrums could have managed, and in a house of this size there would be plenty of help. Her unspoken thought was answered just as though she had uttered it aloud.
‘I want Penny to get out and about; nothing too violent in the way of exercise, but walking—you ride? Yes? There are a couple of good mounts, but I fancy she doesn’t ride. And no driving,’ he added, and Alexandra, who had been regarding him with love, felt her temper rise. So she wasn’t to drive! Now perhaps would be the time to explain about that afternoon, after all, but his gentle: ‘You wouldn’t be safe, dear girl,’ struck her dumb with rage.
She had better get away before she exploded. As she got to her feet she asked: ‘There’s nothing more? Perhaps I might go to my room now.’
He shot her an unsmiling look. ‘Of course, I’ll get Nel to take you up.’ He pulled the bell rope hanging beside the hearth and when a pleasant-faced middle-aged woman came, gave her some instructions and then turned to Alexandra. ‘You took an instant exception to me when we met,’ he observed in a contemplative voice. ‘That must be overcome, though I must admit that I find it hard going.’ He smiled suddenly. ‘And now go upstairs and wash off that cross face, Alexandra. We lunch at half past twelve.’
CHAPTER SIX
IF Nel hadn’t been there, beaming at them both, Alexandra might have answered him back; instead she followed the woman out of the room and up the staircase, along an arched gallery overlooking the hall and into a room which rather took her breath. It overlooked the gardens at the side of the house and although it wasn’t very large, it had the same high ceiling as the room downstairs and the same painted walls. It was furnished quite beautifully in the Regency style, and Alexandra, exploring once she was left on her own, saw that the bed and the small table in the window were antiques, as was the bow-fronted chest against one wall and the little button-backed crinoline chair standing invitingly beside the burnished steel grate. There seemed to be no particular colour scheme; pinks and blues and pale greens were nicely harmonized in the curtains and bed cover, and the floor was covered by a deeply piled white carpet. Very cosy, she decided, aware that this was an understatement. There was a small bathroom leading out of the bedroom too, all pink and white and containing everything she could possibly want. She eyed it with deep pleasure and went back into the room to unpack and do her face and hair and presently went in search of Penny.
She met Miss Thrums first, however, for that lady flung open a door on the opposite side of the gallery and invited her to enter. This room was delightful too, larger and more splendidly furnished and facing the ornamental pool.
‘Very comfortable, isn’t it, my dear?’ murmured Miss Thrums, ‘and so different from my cottage. It always surprises me that when Taro comes to stay with me he gets the morning tea and peels the potatoes as though he had done such things all his life. I daresay if he attempted to do either of these things here, his devoted staff would be appalled.’
She took a look at Alexandra. ‘You were surprised? I don’t suppose Taro thought of telling you, you see, he wouldn’t have considered it important.’ She paused. ‘And it isn’t, is it, Alexandra—not to you.’
‘No. I think I—I felt sorry for him at first, you see he wore those tweeds—nice but shabby—and he was driving the Morris; I quite thought it was his. I imagined him to be a GP with not too much money and perhaps a wife and children…’
‘Too much money, my dear,’ declared Miss Thrums, ‘and no wife—he hasn’t had time to look for one yet, or so he says.’ She shot another look at Alexandra. ‘But I’m wondering if he’ll have to look much further.’
Alexandra turned to look out of the window. ‘Probably not,’ she said in a colourless voice, and thought of Penny. Which reminded her to say: ‘I think I’d better go along and see if Penny has unpacked. Is her room nearby?’
‘Across the front corridor and down the little passage at the back,’ directed her companion. ‘Did Taro tell you at what time we lunch?’
‘Yes, thank you, I’ll see you then.’
Penny hadn’t unpacked; she was lying on the little canopied bed, her kicked-off shoes on the thick floral-patterned carpet, her coat tossed carelessly over a chair. She wasn’t asleep either, for when Alexandra went in she turned her head to look at her.
‘I say, Alexandra, isn’t this great? All this.’ She waved an expressive arm. ‘I had no idea, had you? He must be rolling in lolly—and to think I didn’t guess!’ She smiled happily and her blue eyes weren’t just aware now, they were secretive too. ‘I can twist him round my little finger,’ she said in a dreamy, satisfied voice. ‘I discovered how to do that years ago…’ She put a hand up to her mouth in a swift, guarded movement and then went on quickly: ‘At least, I imagine I did, though I’ve no way of remembering, have I—it’s terrible not to know anything.’
Alexandra’s face displayed nothing of her feelings. ‘It must be,’ she answered pleasantly
, ‘but I daresay the specialist you’re to see will be able to help you.’
She fancied Penny looked apprehensive. ‘What will he do?’
‘Ask you questions, I expect. I don’t know much about it, but these people can get at your subconscious mind and help you to remember. Think how wonderful it will be if he brings your memory back, Penny—you’ll be able to go back to your family.’
She watched Penny’s face and tried to decide whether the expression upon it was fear, anger or excitement; it was impossible to tell.
‘What about getting some of your things tidied up?’ she asked briskly, ‘and getting ready for lunch.’
They went downstairs presently and found the doctor and his aunt sitting together by the fire, drinking sherry, and when he had fetched their drinks he went back to his chair again, only Alexandra saw him turn it slightly so that he could watch Penny, who, on entering the room, had become small and defenceless and amusing in a little girl fashion. Behaviour nicely calculated to catch any man’s eye, and the doctor, Alexandra noted crossly, had certainly been caught. Watching Penny, she had to admit that she was very clever; it was impossible to imagine her to be the same little virago who had tried so hard to make her ditch the car and who had lain on her bed not half an hour earlier and allowed her to see so clearly that she intended to get Taro—and she had almost given herself away…or had she? Perhaps she was doing the girl an injustice. She sighed, caught Taro’s eye and smiled a brilliant smile to let him see that she was enjoying herself hugely.