by Betty Neels
Sarah had been taking stock of Mr van der Eisler. ‘Is this—are you…?’
He smiled charmingly. ‘Haso van der Eisler, and yes, we are.’
Olivia went a becoming pink. ‘Oughtn’t we to go in?’ She didn’t look at him as they joined the file of guests greeting the bride and groom.
Olivia shook hands with Rodney’s father and mother, introduced Mr van der Eisler, and found herself face to face with Rodney.
‘Olivia, old girl. So glad you could come and you’ve brought…?’
‘Haso van der Eisler,’ said Olivia calmly, and turned to shake hands with the bride. Murmuring the usual compliments, she heard Rodney.
‘You’ll be the next man to get caught, I suppose. We shall expect to come to the wedding, you know,’ he said pompously.
She was rather surprised at the number of people who remembered her—mostly chance acquaintances whom she had met when staying with her grandmother, none of them friends. They all stayed to gossip and eye Mr van der Eisler, who bore their scrutiny with bland politeness. Olivia was sure that he was finding the whole affair tiresome and heaved a sigh of thankfulness when Rodney and his bride went away to change and presently were seen off with rose petals and confetti.
‘Now we can go,’ said Olivia, and made her adieux with a serenity she didn’t feel, listening to Mr van der Eisler echoing her with impeccable manners. It took them some time to get to the car, for they were stopped by several people eager to discover more about her and her companion, but she fobbed them off politely and with laughing vagueness while he stood silently beside her.
She was feeling cross by the time she reached the car, and he settled her into the front seat, got in beside her, and drove off.
‘Well, I’m glad that’s over,’ she said snappily. ‘I hope you weren’t too bored. I hate weddings…!’
‘A nice cup of tea,’ he said, in a voice to soothe the most recalcitrant child. ‘There is a tea-room in Bradford-on-Avon, but I suspect that other guests will have the same idea as we have. We’ll go on to Monkton—there’s a cottage tea-room there. What an awkward time to have a wedding—one is scarcely sustained by vol-au-vents and things on biscuits and, one must admit, indifferent champagne.’
‘Tea would be nice.’ She peeped at him; his face was reassuringly calm. ‘Thank you for being so nice—having to listen to all that nonsense.’
‘About you and Rodney? Well, now they will have something to ponder over, won’t they?’
‘I did try not to give the impression that we—you…’
‘You dealt with everyone beautifully, and I must own that your hat was easily the most eye-catching there.’
‘Really?’ She wasn’t cross any more. ‘I bought it at a department store and tied a bit of ribbon round it.’
He laughed at that and after a moment she laughed with him. ‘I don’t know why I tell you things.’
‘It’s easy to talk to some people and not to others,’ was all he said, then added, ‘Ah, this is where we turn off for Monkton.’
The tea-room was the front room of a small cottage. The ceiling was so low that Mr van der Eisler had to bow his handsome head and the small tables were too close together for a private conversation. But, since he seemed to have no wish to talk about themselves, that didn’t matter. They ate scones and jam and cream, sponge cake filled with strawberry jam and generous slabs of fruit cake, and the teapot was vast and filled with a strong brew.
‘This is lovely,’ said Olivia, kicking off her shoes under the table and biting into a scone. ‘Actually the nicest part of the whole day.’
She licked jam off a finger and smiled at him from under the hat.
Only it didn’t last long. In no time at all they were back in the car and driving to the school.
‘You wouldn’t like to come in?’ she asked tentatively.
‘Yes, I would, but I cannot—I have an engagement this evening in town.’
A remark which instantly put her on the defensive. ‘Oh—I didn’t know—if you had told me I could have returned straight here.’
He had got out of the car to open her door and stood with her by the open door. ‘A delightful day, Olivia, and now you can consign Rodney to the past.’
‘I’d already done that…’
‘And have you plans for the future?’
She shook her head. ‘I am content with the present.’
He took the hat off her head and bent to kiss her cheek. ‘Give my love to Nel when you see her. Goodbye, Olivia.’
She stood there watching him drive away, feeling lonely.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE loneliness didn’t last, of course; there was too much to do before the children came back for the second half of the term, and once they were back life became busier than ever. Olivia threw herself into her daily chores with enthusiasm, and only in the evenings, when she was on her own in the annexe, did she admit to loneliness.
It was fortunate that her mother was coming to stay for a week or ten days and, over and above that, two expeditions were planned for the pupils before the school broke up for the summer holidays. A trip to Cheddar Gorge and a second one to the Roman baths in Bath. Olivia was to go with the children on both occasions, as assistant to Miss Cutts, the history teacher—a stern lady, an excellent instructor, but given to a sharpness of tone which made her unpopular with the children. She was unpopular with Olivia too, who had been told off on several occasions and hadn’t dared to answer back—it might have meant her job…
Her mother arrived on a Sunday evening and since Olivia was free she had been able to have supper ready and her small bedroom bright with flowers.
‘Very nice,’ pronounced Mrs Harding. ‘What a dear little place and just for you too. I don’t suppose I shall see much of you, dear?’
‘I get a few hours off each day and a free day once a week. I thought we might go up to Bath one day—there’s a good bus service—and then if you want to go there on your own you’ll know the way.’ Olivia arranged the cold supper on a small table under the window. ‘I have to have my midday dinner in school with the children, so if you won’t mind, would you get your lunch? I’ll be over most days after games and we can have tea together, then I’m free again after the children—the smallest ones—are in bed; that’s at half-past seven. The evenings are light so we can go for a walk then if you like, and have supper together.’ She paused. ‘I hope you won’t be bored, Mother?’
‘My dear, you have no idea how delightful this is going to be—your grandmother has been most generous in giving us a home but I feel that we are out-staying our welcome.’
‘In other words, Mother dear, Granny is behaving like an old tyrant.’
‘Probably I shall be the same when I’m her age.’
‘Mother, you have no idea how to be a tyrant. I do hope that Miss Cross will keep me on. This place is small but we could make it very comfortable, and we’d be on our own during the school holidays.’
Mrs Harding sighed. ‘It sounds too good to be true, love, but I intend to enjoy every minute of my stay.’
Later, as they were washing up together, she asked, ‘Did you go to Rodney’s wedding?’
‘Yes. You remember Mr van der Eisler? Well, he drove me over in his car…’
‘How very kind. What was he doing here? Visiting Nel?’
‘No, he—he saw the card when he brought me back after Easter and thought it would be much nicer if I had a companion to go with.’
She wrung out the dishcloth with a good deal of vigour and her mother studied the back of her head thoughtfully. ‘That was indeed most thoughtful of him. So you enjoyed yourself?’
Olivia was uttering her own thoughts aloud. ‘He looked quite magnificent in his morning dress; we went and had tea in a village tea-room afterwards. Why is it that wedding breakfasts aren’t anything of the kind? Little bits and pieces and not nearly enough to go round.’
Mrs Harding wisely decided not to pursue the interesting subject of Mr v
an der Eisler. ‘Was it an elegant affair? Did the bride look pretty?’
‘Lots of lace and satin. I expect Rodney thought that she looked lovely.’ She turned round to look at her mother. ‘That sounds horrid. I dare say she’s a very nice girl and I don’t mind him marrying in the least. Funny, isn’t it? When I thought I was in love with him.’
‘Only because he was part of your life before your father died, love.’
‘Yes, I realise that now. In future I shall concentrate on being a career girl.’
Her mother’s murmured reply could have been anything.
They had a delightful two weeks together. Mrs Harding, freed from her mother’s petty tyrany, became a cheerful housewife again, going to the village to shop, cooking delicious suppers for Olivia and taking herself off to Bath to look at the shops, and on Olivia’s day off they went together to explore the delightful city. Waving her mother goodbye, Olivia vowed that, even if Miss Cross decided not to keep her on, she would find a job well away from London, where her mother could live with her. ‘A housekeeper or something,’ muttered Olivia, eating a solitary supper, ‘there must be heaps to choose from, and at least I should get a good reference from Miss Cross.’
In two days’ time two coachloads of children were to go to Cheddar Gorge, and Olivia was to go with them. Her task would be to attend to those who felt queasy, restrain the more lively and hand out the lunch packets under the stern eye of Miss Cutts, who would be travelling in the first coach with her; the second coach would contain the matron and Miss Ross—Matron and Miss Cutts didn’t get on and had no hesitation in rearranging matters to suit themselves.
Cheddar was a mere twenty miles or so and the journey was largely taken up with Miss Cutts’ dry-as-dust lectures about the various ancient buildings they passed. Olivia, listening with half an ear, was aware that the small girls perched on either side of her weren’t listening either—and really, why should they? She reflected, I shan’t allow my daughters to be bothered with ancient monuments until they are at least ten years old. It would be different with boys, of course, they would want to know everything like that, and they would be brilliantly clever and grow up to be fine men like—well, like Mr van der Eisler. It was a good thing perhaps that Miss Cutts’ voice cut through her daydreaming.
‘Miss Harding, are you aware that Amelia is feeling sick? Be good enough to attend to her at once.’
Which kept Olivia busy until they reached the gorge and presently Gough’s Cave, where the children were to be taken on a guided tour. Olivia found Nel beside her. ‘I don’t like caves,’ she whispered.
Nor did Olivia, but in the face of Miss Cutts’ enthusiasm nothing much could be done about that. ‘We’ll hold hands,’ she promised. ‘I think it may be rather interesting. Stalactites and stalagmites and flints and things.’
‘Are they alive?’ Nel wanted to know.
‘No, dear—they’re rock or something. You’ll see…’
The tour seemed to go on forever. Long before they regained the entrance Olivia’s hands and arms had been clutched by small nervous fingers, but it was amazing how soon the more timid recovered over their picnic lunch.
An instructive walk followed and Olivia, detailed to walk at the back so that she could keep an eye on the small children, allowed her thoughts to wander once more. It was a pleasant day, warm and sunny with a light breeze, and this, she told herself, was bliss compared with Sylvester Crescent and the hospital. The thought of which reminded her of Mr van der Eisler once again. I wonder what he’s doing? she reflected, and started on a series of imagined situations of a highly colourful nature—operating in an atmosphere of high drama, sitting at a magnificent oak desk in a luxurious consulting-room advising some VIP, driving his beautiful motor car at a hundred miles an hour to save someone’s life…!
He was doing none of these things; he was sitting behind a desk in a rather poky consulting-room in the outpatients department of a large Amsterdam hospital. He was hot and tired and rather hungry, since he had chosen to miss his lunch and start his clinic early because he had promised Rita to take her out that evening. She had phoned him that morning, saying that she wanted to talk to him about Nel, and he had suggested dinner. Now he wished that she hadn’t accepted so eagerly, although he had to admit that anything to do with Nel mustn’t be overlooked. He had tried to persuade Rita to make her home in England again, but in this she was adamant, being content to have Nel to live with her during the school holidays.
‘After all,’ she had reminded him in her gentle voice, ‘her grandmother lives near the school and Nel loves her dearly, and if she came here to live with me she would be so lonely. I’m away all day and I love my job; I simply can’t give it up.’ She had added wistfully, ‘Of course if I should meet a man who would understand this and offer me the kind of life I had before Rob died, someone who could love Nel too…’ She had allowed her words to fade and then had smiled at him. ‘What a good thing that I have you to advise me, Haso.’
The clinic ended, and he got into his car and drove himself to his home—an eighteenth-century gabled town mansion in a short row of similar buildings facing a narrow gracht leading from the Prinsengracht. It was very quiet there, a backwater in the bustling city, with trees bordering the water and a street of bricks. He parked his car, mounted the double steps to his front door, and let himself in.
The hall was narrow, with panelled walls and a high plaster ceiling. There were doors on either side and a staircase, its wooden treads worn with age, rose halfway down the hall, curving away to the floor above.
He had crossed the hall and was at a door beside the staircase when a stout man, no longer young, came through the baize door at the end of the hall.
Mr van der Eisler stopped in his stride. ‘Ah, Bronger, I’m late.’
The door was pushed open and an Alsatian dog padded silently through.
‘I’ll take Achilles for a quick run before I go out.’ He laid a hand on the dog’s great head. ‘I could do with some fresh air myself.’
‘You’ll be late back, Professor?’
‘I hope not. Ask Ofke to leave some coffee on the stove for me, will you?’
He left the house again very shortly, the dog loping silently beside him. The streets were quiet in this part of the city and there was a small park nearby where Achilles raced around for some time while his master paced along its paths. Presently he whistled to the dog and they walked briskly back to his home and went, the pair of them, into the study, before Mr van der Eisler took himself upstairs to change for the evening.
Achilles was waiting for him in the hall when he went downstairs again. ‘Sorry, boy, I have to go out,’ Mr van der Eisler told the dog gently and gave him a pat. ‘And for some reason I have no wish to go.’
He got into his car once more. He had no wish to spend the evening with Rita; for a moment he allowed his thoughts to dwell on Olivia. Unlike Rita, whose gentle voice concealed a determination to get her own way, Olivia would speak her mind with a disregard of female wiles, cheerfully apologising afterwards if need be. Rita, he reflected, never apologised, because she never felt herself to be at fault.
He stopped before a block of flats in the more modern part of the city, got out and rang the bell of her flat.
‘Haso?’ Her voice was charming over the intercom. ‘Come on up…’
‘We’re already a little late. I’ve a table at de Kersentuin.’
Rita joined him after about five minutes. She looked charming; she had an excellent clothes-sense, and the money to spend on a good hairdresser and beauty parlour. Mr van der Eisler helped her into the car and wondered why she didn’t stir his interest in the slightest. They had got on well when Rob was alive, but he had never thought of her as anyone other than his friend’s wife.
They had seen quite a lot of each other when his friend was alive and Nel was a baby, and since his death, naturally enough, they met frequently since he was one of his trustees. He had been surprised at how quickly sh
e had returned to work as a PA to an executive in a big oil firm and how easily she had agreed to Nel going to boarding-school in England. True, Rob had wanted that, but he had envisaged Rita going to live in England too. After all, there was plenty of money…
He listened to Rita’s amusing chatter, making all the right remarks, and presently, as they sat over dinner, he asked her why she had wanted to see him.
She laughed. ‘Oh, nothing in particular, Haso. I suppose I was feeling lonely—you know how it is? Don’t you ever wish to have a companion? A wife to come home to?’
‘I’m poor company when I get home in the evening.’ He smiled at her. ‘Are you worried about Nel?’
‘Nel? Why should I be worried about her? Her grandmother’s only a few miles away from the school; she seems very happy. I had a letter from her this morning. They were taken off to Cheddar Gorge—for a treat. She didn’t like the caves very much but there was someone there—one of the teachers, I presume—who didn’t like them either, and they held hands. Silly child.’
‘A dislike of being in an enclosed place is very common. Luckily there was someone with whom she could share her fear.’
That someone would have been Olivia, he was as sure of that as though Rita had mentioned her by name. He frowned—he really must stop thinking about the girl, she had nothing to do with his life. He said easily, ‘As long as you are quite happy about Nel. She seemed perfectly content when I took her back to school.’
She handed him his coffee-cup and he went on, ‘Have you any plans for the summer holidays? I suppose she’ll stay for a while with Lady Brennon?’
‘For as long as she likes. She can come over here, of course, but I don’t want to take too much time off—I’ve been asked to go down to the South of France for the whole of August with the van Fonders.’