by Betty Neels
His firm mouth curved faintly. ‘No, thanks. I’ve two partners and we have a secretary and a nurse and so on. I expect you’ll find the house will keep you busy.’
She had a sudden vision of herself toiling round a not very modern house with a great many stairs and a semi-basement kitchen and one daily woman to do the rough. She said faintly: ‘Oh, yes, I daresay I shall. Do you live in a house or a flat?’
‘Oh, a house—the town sort, you know. There’s a garden and it’s right in the centre, not far to the shops and so on.’
She added a picture of her struggling to make herself understood while she bought the groceries. ‘I don’t know a word of Dutch.’
‘You’ll learn quickly enough. You shall have lessons, and all my friends speak English.’
She said: ‘How nice,’ rather faintly and added: ‘I’d better go and see to lunch and I want to check the stores before I go.’
Jake let her go without demur and she spent the next hour rather peevishly making lists for Sven’s sister. Jake was a dear, but surely he could be a little more attentive? Not another Ola, of course, and his casual fondness towards her was quite a different kettle of fish from Arthur’s pompous taking her for granted, but something nicely in between. She added ten tins of baked beans to her list and chided herself for being discontented. She had got what she wanted most in life, hadn’t she? Jake.
She had no time to delve deeply into her feelings during the next twenty-four hours. The plane with Sven’s sister and the doctor aboard arrived mid-morning and took off again almost at once with two men due for leave on board, and Annis spent the afternoon going over the stores with her successor and handing over the short list of patients requiring attention. In no time at all it was time to say goodbye to Willy and the rest of them, wave goodbye to Freddy as he zoomed away in Jake’s plane, and wait for the Coastal. It arrived punctually and she had to admire the efficiency with which she, Jake and their luggage were loaded into one of the motorboats and taken out to the ‘Spitzbergen Express’. There weren’t many people on board, it was getting late in the summer for tourists; there were a handful of people going on leave, or visiting families in Norway, students returning to the universities and a sprinkling of tourists who were making the round trip from Bergen to Spitzbergen and back. Annis, in her small, comfortable cabin, unpacked her overnight bag and pulled a sweater over her skirt and blouse; now they were at sea it seemed a good deal colder.
Jake’s cabin was close by and it wasn’t until later on that she discovered that she was the only one to have a shower to herself. Most of the cabins had to share one, but when she offered him the use of hers he only laughed, remarking that the plaster on his leg made it difficult to shower. They went along to the dining room later still, and ate with appetite. As Annis pointed out, it was a treat to eat food she hadn’t cooked herself, and besides, the menu was an excellent one. They found a sheltered spot on deck afterwards and watched Spitzbergen’s mountains receding behind them.
‘It was fun,’ said Annis suddenly. ‘I loved almost all of it.’
Jake turned to look at her. ‘But not quite all, my dear. You don’t want to talk about it, do you?’ And before she could deny that: ‘Well, I won’t remind you—I’m only sorry it had to happen.’ He looked ferocious for a moment. ‘I’ll do whatever I can to make you forget.’
Annis didn’t answer at once. She was trying to find the right words to tell him that she didn’t need sympathy, that her affair with Ola was as cold as yesterday’s potatoes, that she was more than happy to spend the rest of her life being Jake’s wife. It would be crazy to tell him that she loved him. Hadn’t he told her that he needed someone to replace his sister and given no indication that he felt for her any more than affection? She had her mouth open to answer him cautiously—she had even begun: ‘Jake, there’s something…’ when an elderly Norwegian couple rounded their corner of the deck and stopped beside them, to engage them in a friendly conversation for the next half hour, when it was then so late that all there was left to do was go below and go to bed. They had cabins close to each other too with the married couple just across the way, so that they stood together for a few minutes, saying goodnight, and since they lingered, Annis gave up all hope of Jake kissing her and with a murmured goodnight went into her cabin.
And in the morning his greeting was pleasantly friendly and nothing more. He enquired as to whether she had slept and observed that the ship would halt briefly at Bear Island and if she wanted to see all there was to see, they had better have their breakfast.
It was splendid weather still and they leaned over the ship’s rail, watching the lonely place getting nearer and nearer as the ship steamed towards it. On the whole, Annis decided, she didn’t mind very much not being able to land there. It looked bare and bleak and the radio station looked far lonelier than the one on Spitzbergen. Jake laughed at her and pointed out that Spitzbergen was just as bleak, only larger, although during the short summer, when the birds came briefly and the small, tough flowers bloomed, it was touched with beauty.
‘Yes, I know,’ agreed Annis, ‘but the mountains swallow all that up, if you see what I mean. Where do we go next?’
‘Tromso. We’ll get there tomorrow morning—we’ll go ashore if you like.’
She hesitated. ‘That would be nice, but won’t your leg bother you?’
‘No, not a bit. We’ll take a look at the Arctic Cathedral and sample the shops. If you’ve looked your fill of Bear Island, let’s go below and have a drink.’
The day passed pleasantly doing nothing much, making the acquaintance of the other passengers and then later in the afternoon, leaning on the rails again, warmly wrapped against the chilly wind, and it was then that Jake began to talk about their wedding.
‘How do you feel about it?’ he wanted to know. ‘Do you hanker after a quiet ceremony—no church if you like, it’s quite legal in Holland without—or shall we have a nice warm-blooded family affair with everyone invited? A good idea, actually, as then you can meet the family all at once.’
Annis remembered what Freddy had said. ‘Aren’t I a bit old for all that? I mean, a veil and white dress and bridesmaids?’
Jake’s eyebrows shot up. ‘What a ridiculous idea! You’ll make a beautiful bride and I for one should like it. Would you have time to get your things ready in three weeks? I’ll see to the reception and all that if you like to invite anyone you want—they can come over to Goes by plane.’
It was exciting and her eyes sparkled. It would be lovely to have a proper wedding. Then her face dropped. ‘Only I haven’t any family, only Great-Aunt Mary and Freddy—I’ve lots of friends, though.’
‘Then invite them all, let me know how many there will be and I’ll arrange for a plane to bring them over.’
‘But that’ll cost the earth—I couldn’t let you…’
He smiled at her lazily. ‘My dear girl, I only intend to marry once in my lifetime and I’d like to remember it as a special occasion—think of all the money I haven’t spent while we’ve been at Spitzbergen. How many friends have you? Fifty? A hundred?’
‘Good heavens, no!’ She counted on her fingers, muttering as she did so. ‘I’m not quite certain, but I can think of twenty-odd people.’
‘Willy can’t get away, unfortunately. A pity, but it can’t be helped.’
‘Ah, well. I’ve an uncle somewhere in Cornwall, but I haven’t seen him since I was a baby and I wouldn’t care to ask him.’
They wandered down for tea, still talking about the wedding, and it wasn’t until they had almost finished that Annis said: ‘I still don’t know much about your family. Do they live near you?’
‘Mother lives at Bergen-op-Zoom, about half an hour’s drive away, my sister lives at s’Hertenenbosch—her husband’s a doctor too. I’ve any number of aunts and uncles and cousins—they’ll all be at the wedding.’ He twinkled nicely at her. ‘Most of them are nice; there are one or two I don’t care about, but as we seldom meet I don’
t suppose that’ll matter. They’ll be all so eager to see the bride…’
‘But, Jake,’ cried Annis, ‘I shall feel frightful, I don’t understand a word of Dutch for a start.’
‘Not to worry—everyone’ll speak some sort of English.’
She said doubtfully: ‘I don’t know if Great-Aunt Mary would enjoy…’
‘We’ll ask her. And now how about joining the Jennsens for that game of bridge we promised them?’
Which Annis obediently did, secretly hating it. She played badly anyway and because her mind was busy pondering the unpalatable fact that Jake, while seeming to enjoy her company, didn’t seem to mind when he had to share it with anyone else, she played abominably. At the end of the second rubber, lost, like the first one, by her witless playing, she looked guiltily across the table to Jake and was put out to observe that while his face was impassive, his eyes were gleaming with wicked laughter. ‘I’m not very good at bridge,’ she told him with hauteur, and then had to gulp back annoyance at his:
‘Never mind, my dear—what is it they say? “Unlucky at cards, lucky in love.”’
He grinned at her and their companions made a few mild jokes in their almost perfect English, so that she had to smile with them while she longed to pick up the ashtray on the table and hurl it at Jake’s handsome head.
Her ill temper only lasted a little while; how could she be angry with someone she loved as much as she loved Jake? She was her usual calm self for the rest of the day and on the following morning, when they arrived at Tromso, she was a perfect companion, listening to every word Jake had to say as they drove round the town and to visit the Arctic Cathedral. It was a bit off-putting when, on their return to the ship, he remarked laughingly:
‘How very compliant you were, Annis. Not a single argument and you didn’t contradict me once. It’s a good thing I know better…’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Why, that you have a mind of your own and aren’t above speaking it. I don’t think I should like a wife who moulded herself into my shadow.’
Annis bent to pick an invisible speck off her slacks. She would have to think about that remark presently. Now she composed her voice to nothing but pleasant amusement. ‘Have no fear of that,’ she assured him. ‘I have no intention of being anyone’s shadow—I have a headache and I suppose that made me a bit dull.’
‘Oh, never dull, my dear Annis. I’m sorry about the head.’ He sounded impersonally kind. ‘I should go and lie down for an hour—I’ll get someone to bring you a cup of tea; if you can manage to get a short nap, you should be as right as rain for the evening.’
She wanted nothing more than to be alone. She agreed eagerly, so eagerly in fact that he gave her a sharp glance from under his heavy lids. But she didn’t see that, only sped to her cabin and lay down on her bunk. A cup of tea would be nice and help her to think.
An hour later she was still teasing her brain and now she had a real headache. What exactly had Jake meant when he had said that he didn’t want a wife who was his shadow? Was he warning her that he wanted to lead his own life when they were married? That he didn’t want her interfering in any way? No help in the surgery, no questions as to where he had been or where he was going? No requests to go with him sometimes? She couldn’t guess the answers and she couldn’t pluck up the courage to ask him what he meant. He had told her that he wanted to marry her and because she loved him she had said she would, half believing that he loved her—not very much perhaps, but still enough to make their marriage successful. Now she wasn’t sure.
She got up and changed into a plain jersey dress and picked up the woollen stole he had bought her that morning. It was chilly in the evenings once the sun started to go down and she was grateful for it, and she was thankful too that its delicate pink gave her face some colour. Staring at her reflection, she decided that she looked a hag; all eyes and pallor.
But judging from the look Jake gave her when she joined him presently, she couldn’t have looked as bad as all that. The sight of him sent her headache flying, and the evening, which she had been dubious about, became a delight.
They went to the island of Hinnoya the next day and landed briefly at Harstad before going on to Sortland and Stokmarknes and then through the Raftsundet channel to cross the Arctic Circle, and then, with Trondheim only a day away, to go ashore at Sandnessjoen.
At Trondheim they spent several hours sightseeing; the cathedral, a massive sombre building of magnificence, the royal palace, the quaint old houses in the town, and of course the shops. They bought things there—painted wooden bowls and trays, hand-knitted woollies for Great-Aunt Mary, a pair of gloves Annis liked and several pieces of glass she admired. Jake was in high spirits and Annis, packing everything tidily away in her luggage later, longed for him to be like that always. He wouldn’t be, of course, but it had been wonderful and she had loved every minute of his lighthearted banter and gentle teasing.
They took a look at Kristiansund on the following day too and bought some pottery figures, although as Annis protested, there wasn’t an inch of space left in their luggage, and then finally they were at Bergen.
It was after lunch when they arrived and they went straight to an hotel. ‘We’ll spend the night here,’ Jake had told her, ‘so you can have a quick look round and catch a morning plane to Heathrow. While you’re settling in I’ll see about it.’
He bought her a silver bracelet later, while they were strolling round the shops before dinner that evening. It was a beautiful thing and if she hadn’t been firm, he would have bought her anything else she had fancied. They had a drink in a pleasant little bar near the water and then strolled back to the hotel with Jake handling his crutches so inconspicuously that she forgot now and then that he was using them. He didn’t seem to tire at all, either, and if she asked him, he brushed her concern aside with a faint impatience, so that after a while she had learned not to say anything. But that evening as they sat over dinner he remarked casually that he would be glad when he got back to Goes and could get a walking iron fixed. ‘I can manage with a stick then,’ he pointed out. ‘I’ll have to use it at our wedding, I’m afraid—I hope you won’t mind?’
‘Not a bit. How long will it be before you can discard the walking plaster?’
He shrugged. ‘It rather depends—not many weeks, I should imagine; I’ll know more when I’ve had another X-ray.’
With that she had to be content. She knew that he intended working the moment he returned and she didn’t think that he would allow a mere leg in plaster to make much difference to his life; perhaps there would be someone to drive him round to his patients. For the first time she found herself wondering if he had had a lot of girl-friends and whether they would mind him marrying her. She would have liked to have asked him but something stopped her; he had been tact itself over Ola, and although he had dismissed Arthur as of no importance, he had never asked a lot of tiresome questions; so she mustn’t either.
It was funny to be back in England the next day. Heathrow was choked with people, but Jake made his way unhurriedly through the crowds, conjured up a porter, took Annis through Customs and then into the enormous reception hall. They hadn’t crossed more than ten feet of it before a middle-aged man in a neat blue suit joined them.
Jake leaned on his crutches and put a hand on Annis’s arm. ‘Here’s Cor—he’ll take care of everything.’ And he spoke to the man in his own language.
Annis stood watching them; she had no idea who Cor might be, but she supposed that she would be told in time. He seemed quiet and sensible, listening to what Jake had to say without interruption before he turned to her as Jake said: ‘Annis, this is Cor, my friend and chauffeur and steward. He’s also my right hand; he’ll be yours too.’
Annis held out a hand and Cor shook it gently and said in stilted English: ‘I am so glad to meet Miss Brown and offer my best wishes for her happiness.’ He added, still in English to Jake: ‘You wish to go to the car, Doctor?’
Jake nodded and they started off again, making for the entrance and the road outside. There were a great many cars lining the road. Annis glanced around her and wondered which one was Jake’s; the big white Merc, perhaps, or the dark blue BMW parked behind it. It was neither of these; it was the dark grey Bristol 303, its dignified lines and unobtrusive class making the other two cars appear showy. I might have known, thought Annis, and obediently started to get in beside the driver’s seat. Half way there she paused. ‘Yes, but what about you, Jake?’
He waved to a pile of letters which were stacked on the back seat. ‘You won’t mind? I can get these read and some of them dealt with while we travel. I’ve told Cor to stop when he sees an empty phone box for you. It would be hopeless to try from here. He knows the way, I asked him to make sure of that, though I expect he’ll want your help when we get to Mere.’
He smiled at her, a warm friendly smile which seemed to take it for granted that she found everything just as satisfactory as he did, and got into the back of the car. Minutes later they were on their way.
And minutes later they stopped so that Annis might do her telephoning, armed with the handful of ten-penny pieces Jake had thoughtfully offered her. Great-Aunt Mary was home and being herself, remained unflurried when Annis told her news, beyond saying that she was delighted and would trout, jacket potatoes and a bottle of that Hock she had been saving for some special occasion do for their suppers. Annis said that it sounded lovely and mentioned Cor.
‘I’ll get a room for him at the Wool and Whistle,’ said Great-Aunt Mary. ‘Can this young man of yours get himself upstairs with that plaster on his leg or shall I give him a shakedown in the drawing room?’
Annis dismissed a picture of Jake trying to fit his size into the little room. ‘He can manage stairs very well,’ she said firmly, ‘in fact you don’t remember about his leg most of the time.’ She put another coin in. ‘I’d better go now, they’re waiting for me just outside and it’s quite a busy road.’