by Betty Neels
The car came and they were borne away. ‘You have no need to trouble about the journey,’ said Bronger. ‘All is arranged.’
‘In such a short time, too,’ said Olivia. ‘I can’t think how you did it in just a few hours.’
He smiled and said nothing and presently she asked, ‘May I ask you a little about Nel? She is with Mr van der Eisler, isn’t she? Is there no chance that she might go home?’ She paused. ‘Perhaps I shouldn’t ask you…’
‘Mr van der Eisler has confided in me, miss. Nel refuses to go to her home; I do not know exactly why. She left a note when she left home and most fortunately she was found within a few hours. She wishes for you and she is most upset; this is the best plan Mr van der Eisler could make in the short time he had. It is unfortunate that he has a very busy schedule at several hospitals during the next few days which he cannot change. It is good of you to come at so short a notice, miss.’
‘Well, I hope I’ll be able to help. Mr van der Eisler said on the phone that Nel would go back to her grandmother as soon as he could arrange that.’
Bronger nodded his grey head. ‘Nel is happy with her. She is like her father was.’
They had reached the airport and the next half-hour was taken up with being processed to the plane, and once on board they didn’t talk. Olivia had a great deal to think about and Bronger closed his eyes and drifted into a light doze. He must have been up very early, thought Olivia.
At Schiphol he escorted her to the main entrance, bade her wait and went away, to return within minutes driving a beautifully kept Jaguar. He got out, stowed her case, and opened the car door.
Olivia hesitated. ‘May I sit with you?’ she asked. ‘I’d much rather.’
He looked pleased. ‘A pleasure, miss.’ He gave her a rare smile. ‘It is a short drive to Amsterdam.’
Once in the heart of the city, Olivia looked about her eagerly. Away from the busy main streets the old houses by the canals looked as though nothing in them had altered for centuries, and when Bronger stopped before Mr van der Eisler’s house she got out and stood on the narrow pavement, looking up at it.
She wasn’t allowed to loiter. He mounted the double steps, opened the door and ushered her inside. At the same moment a small figure came flying down the stairs and flung herself at Olivia.
‘I knew you’d come. Uncle Haso said you would. Oh, Olivia, you’ll stay with me, won’t you? I won’t go back, I won’t…’
‘Now, now, poppet,’ said Olivia, and hugged the child. ‘Of course I’ll stay, and I’m sure your uncle won’t make you do anything which makes you unhappy.’
‘She was horrid—she had a wart on her chin and she slapped me and told my Mummy I was disobedient and Mummy just laughed and said I’d have to change my ways… Olivia…’
Bronger took charge. ‘Now, Nel, will you let miss go to her room and tidy herself? Presently you’ll have your lunch with her; Ofke will have it all ready.’
A door at the end of the hall opened then, and a tall, bony woman joined them. She offered a hand to Olivia and smiled, and Bronger said, ‘My wife, Ofke. She housekeeps and cooks. She speaks no English but I will help, and Nel understands Dutch—some at least.’
He said something to his wife, who nodded and led the way up the staircase. The landing was square, with doors on either side and a wide corridor running towards the back of the house. She led the way down this and opened one of the doors, beckoning Olivia to go in.
The room was square and lofty and its one large window overlooked a narrow strip of garden at the back of the house. It was furnished with a canopied bed, a rosewood table with a triple mirror on it, a tallboy in the same wood, a couple of small armchairs and a bedside table with a lovely porcelain lamp on it. The carpet and the curtains matched the soft pink of the bedspread and it was deliciously warm.
Nel ran past her. ‘There’s a bathroom—’ she opened a door ‘—and a clothes closet.’ She flung open another door. ‘Uncle Haso let me choose.’ She perched on the bed while Olivia took off her coat and hat. ‘I’ll tell you about how I ran away, shall I?’
‘Yes, darling, I do want to know what happened. But shall we wait until we are downstairs, perhaps over lunch?’
There was no sign of Mr van der Eisler when they went downstairs and presently they had their lunch in a small, cosy room behind the vast drawing-room Olivia had glimpsed, and Nel poured out her story. It was rather garbled and Olivia had difficulty following it. The woman with the wart featured heavily in it and, so, regrettably, did Nel’s mother who, it seemed, had hardly ever been at home during Christmas. She let the child talk because she could see that it was what she needed to do—perhaps later Mr van der Eisler would find the time to tell her exactly what had happened.
Nel was a little too bright-eyed, she thought, so after lunch she suggested that they went and sat by the fire in the magnificence of the drawing-room. ‘And you can tell me some more,’ she suggested. The chairs were large and comfortable. Nel climbed into her lap, had a little weep, and closed her eyes and presently slept. So did Olivia, worn out from the suddenness of it all.
CHAPTER SEVEN
MR VAN DER EISLER, coming quietly into his house, paused in the drawing-room doorway, put a cautionary hand on Achilles’ great head, and looked his fill at the sleeping occupants of the chair. Olivia’s bright hair had come a little loose from its pins and her mouth was just a little open. All the same, she looked very beautiful, sitting there, clutching Nel to her, her chin resting on the child’s fair head.
He trod across the room, making no sound on the carpet, and stooped to kiss Nel’s cheek and then Olivia’s. Neither of them stirred as he went to sit down in his armchair on the opposite side of the great hearth. Achilles arranged himself beside his master’s chair and presently sank his head on his paws and dozed. His master, tired though he was after a long list in Theatre, stayed awake, his eyes on the sleeping pair.
Olivia opened her eyes first, suddenly wide awake, staring at him over Nel’s head. She whispered, ‘We went to sleep—have you been here long? Why didn’t you wake us up?’
He smiled and shook his head. ‘I wanted to keep my dreams,’ he said, and she frowned, wondering what he meant. But there was no chance to ask, for Nel woke up then and scrambled off her lap and on to her uncle’s.
‘May I stay forever?’ she asked him. ‘I’ll go to school if I must, because then I can see Granny, but I’ll come back here and live with you and Olivia.’
‘We’ll have to think about that, Nel. I’m not sure if it would work. You see, I have to work each day and Olivia must go back to England in a little while.’ He looked down at the suddenly unhappy face. ‘But you shall certainly stay with Granny as often as you want to, and in two days’ time I’ll drive you and Olivia up to Friesland for a little holiday.’
‘You won’t send me back to that horrid lady? Mummy won’t mind if I’m not there—I heard her tell that lady that I was an encum…a long word I can’t quite remember, but I think it means that she doesn’t want me.’
‘I think that perhaps we can alter that, liefje, but we’ll have to wait until I have the time to arrange things differently.’
‘I don’t suppose you’d like to get married?’
He laughed then. ‘Well, I have been giving it serious thought just lately.’
Which would make everyone happy, reflected Olivia, excepting herself, of course. She looked up and found his eyes on her.
‘I expect you would like to phone your mother, Olivia. Use the phone in my study—the last door on the opposite side of the hall. And you, my pet, must go and find Ofke and have your supper…’
‘You won’t go away? And Olivia? Will she put me to bed?’
‘Of course,’ said Olivia, and got to her feet. ‘You go and have your supper while I phone home, and we’ll go upstairs together.’
She was glad to get out of the room. Seeing Mr van der Eisler sitting there in his home, planning a convenient future so calmly, was turn
ing her good sense upside-down.
By the time she had finished talking to her mother, Nel had had her supper and the next half-hour or so was taken up by getting her to bed. A long-drawn-out business which Olivia made no attempt to hasten—to spend the rest of the evening with Mr van der Eisler would be heaven but on the other hand living up to his idea of a sensible young woman was going to be difficult—but finally she could prolong the bedtime story no longer. She tucked the little girl in, kissed her and went downstairs.
Mr van der Eisler was sitting in his chair reading, with Achilles still snoozing at his feet. They both got up as she went in. ‘Do sit down,’ he begged her. ‘Nel is a dear child, but quite exhausting. Would you like sherry?’
She accepted the crystal glass he offered her and set it down carefully on the table beside her, hoping that he hadn’t seen her trembling hand. Which of course he had. She said, ‘She is a dear little girl. Perhaps her mother could find another person to look after her? I’m sure that’s her real reason for running away. The lady had a wart…’ She saw his smile. ‘No, I’m serious—warts and witches, you know!—and perhaps being made to eat something she didn’t like… Such silly little things which need not have happened if…’
She stopped then, just in time, but he finished the sentence for her. ‘If her mother had been there. You’re quite right. But Rita has an excellent job at which she excels; she also meets a number of interesting people, goes to various meetings and travels—all of which are important to her.’
Not more important than looking after your small daughter, thought Olivia, although she didn’t say so. ‘So what do you intend to do?’ she asked.
‘I shall be free tomorrow afternoon. We will go and see Rita, who has agreed to be at home then. Perhaps Nel will agree to stay with her, if so all the better, but if there is still difficulty I will bring her back here for another night and the following day we will drive up to Friesland—that will be in the late afternoon, so I must ask you to look after her until then.’
‘Very well. I shan’t be needed in Friesland?’
‘Indeed you will. My mother is more than willing to have Nel but she doesn’t feel able to cope with the child. My young brother will be at home but I doubt if he will want to spend his time with Nel.’
Olivia thought of several things to say but uttered none of them. No doubt Mr van der Eisler had enough on his mind without her asking what to his mind would be foolish questions. She had almost no money, very few clothes with her, and any chances of getting a job had been knocked on the head for the time being. Such trivial matters, she reflected sourly, would mean little to him. He had arranged everything efficiently and to suit himself. If she hadn’t loved him she might have flatly refused to be rushed into anything…
Bronger came in and requested that they should dine, and over a delicious meal in the charming dining-room she became reconciled to his plans. Due, no doubt, to his placid conversation, the superb roast pheasant and the vintage claret. They had their coffee in the drawing-room and presently he excused himself on the pretext of having telephone calls to make, and left her to sit by the fire, leafing through magazines and trying to think sensibly about her future.
Since it seemed that he didn’t intend to return to the drawing-room she took herself off to bed, escorted to the stairs by Bronger with the assurance that she would be called in the morning with tea.
‘China or Indian, miss?’ he asked, and bade her a kindly goodnight.
She slept soundly and was wakened by Nel creeping into her bed and demanding a story, only brought to its conclusion by the arrival of the morning tea, shared by the two of them. Later, dressed, they went downstairs together to find that Mr van der Eisler had already left home for the hospital, leaving a message that they were to amuse themselves that morning and be sure to be ready for him when he got back around two o’clock.
‘So, what shall we do?’ asked Olivia.
Nel looked surprised. ‘You know already,’ she said accusingly. ‘We’re going to look at the picture in the Rijksmuseum—you said so…’
‘So I did. Stupid of me to have forgotten. I’ll ask Bronger how to get there.’
‘I will drive you there, miss. The professor wouldn’t allow anything else.’
‘Oh, wouldn’t he? Professor? Is Mr van der Eisler a professor?’
‘Yes, miss. Very highly thought of, too. When would you like to go, miss?’
He drove them in the dark blue Jaguar, sleek and gleaming, and set them down at the museum’s entrance, handed Olivia a couple of notes with the observation that the professor had told him to deal with expenses, and told her that he would be exactly on that spot at twelve o’clock. ‘There is a pleasant café inside,’ he suggested. ‘I wish you an enjoyable morning.’
Which it certainly was. They prowled round looking at portraits and landscapes and Olivia, who had feared that Nel might get bored, found that she was as interested as she herself was. They had their elevenses and made their way to the Nightwatch, and sat down before it. It was an enormous painting; it took them some time to pick out the many figures in it and, once they had done that, Nel insisted on making up stories about each of them—even the little dog. They sat absorbed, side by side, their heads close together while they whispered.
When Mr van der Eisler slid his vast person on to the bench beside Olivia she gave a gasp. ‘Oh, heavens, have we forgotten the time?’ She looked at her watch, bending her head to hide the sudden flood of colour in her face.
‘No, no—the last operation had to be cancelled so I have been able to leave early. Have you been here long?’
Nel leaned across Olivia. ‘Ages and ages,’ she said with satisfaction. ‘Olivia’s been telling me stories about the man in the picture. Will you take us home? Bronger said he’d come for us at twelve o’clock.’
‘Will I do instead? I told Bronger I’d fetch you on my way back.’
‘Well, of course you will, Uncle Haso. I like Bronger but I like you a lot better—so does Olivia, don’t you Olivia?’
Olivia said rather coldly, ‘I haven’t given the matter much thought.’
‘Bronger’s married to Ofke,’ observed Nel, ‘so you can only like him a little otherwise she might mind, but Oom Haso…’
Olivia avoided Mr van der Eisler’s eye and said hastily, ‘Yes, yes, of course, shouldn’t we be going?’
‘You haven’t told me about that man in the corner of the painting.’
‘I think it would be nice to save him for the next time,’ said Olivia briskly. ‘I’m sure your uncle wants his lunch.’
Mr van der Eisler, who was quite happy where he was, saw that it might be better to agree with Olivia, who looked a little flushed and put out.
‘By all means let us go home to our lunch. I dare say we shall have tea with your mother, Nel.’ And at the child’s quick frown he added, ‘and you will have your supper in Friesland.’
A red herring which he trailed successfully all the way back to his house with Nel perched beside him, happy again.
Nel’s high spirits disappeared as they got into the car again to go to her mother’s flat. Her small mouth was set in a mutinous tight line and Olivia’s coaxing was to no avail. As they stopped outside the block of flats Nel said in a small voice, ‘You promise not to leave me here, Uncle Haso?’
‘I promise, liefje. Your mother wants to see you and make sure that you are happy; she won’t stop you going to Friesland with Olivia and when you have had a holiday there perhaps you will change your mind and go back to her. You ought to go back to school in a week or so, but I’ve arranged that—you won’t need to go back until we have things sorted out here.’
‘Then will you and Mummy take me back?’
‘Very likely, for we need to talk to your granny. She must be told of the plans we have for the future.’
Of course they are going to marry, thought Olivia miserably, and had the thought substantiated by the manner in which Rita greeted Mr van der Eisler. Arms
around his neck and looking up at him from under long, curling—and false—eyelashes. He remained placid, but then he wasn’t a man to show his feelings, decided Olivia, and urged Nel forward to greet her mother.
Rita enfolded her child in a close embrace, kissed her a great deal and murmured in a loving voice. Olivia wasn’t taken in one bit and she didn’t think Nel was either, but what Mr van der Eisler thought was being hidden behind a passive countenance.
‘Darling,’ cooed Rita, ‘what a lot of trouble you have given Mummy—I’m almost out of my mind… Now, I want you to run along and play while your uncle and I have a talk. Juffrouw Schalk is in your bedroom, packing some clothes for you. Take…’ She paused and smiled prettily at Olivia. ‘I’ve forgotten your name—so stupid…’
‘Olivia.’
‘Of course, take Olivia with you, darling. I’m sure Juffrouw Schalk will be able to give her some useful tips.’
She flipped a hand in dismissal and turned to Mr van der Eisler as Nel led Olivia from the room. ‘Don’t go away,’ begged the child as they crossed the hall and went into a room on the far side.
Juffrouw Schalk was there, sitting in a comfortable chair by a closed stove, and she was exactly as Olivia had pictured her—dark eyes, small and sly, a long nose, a high forehead from which dark hair was drawn back and a mean mouth, beside which was the wart. Probably she was a good and efficient woman, but Olivia could understand at once why Nel didn’t like her.
Juffrouw Schalk spoke sharply in Dutch to Nel, who answered her and added in English, ‘Juffrouw Schalk speaks English, Olivia.’
‘Good afternoon,’ said Olivia politely, and was told to sit down.
‘This silly child,’ said Juffrouw Schalk in thickly accented English, ‘is spoilt by her English grandmother. She should go to one of our schools and learn instead of doing as she likes.’
Olivia wondered if the child had had the chance to do anything she liked while she was with her mother. ‘She is a good pupil at her school and happy with her grandmother.’