by Betty Neels
‘And what will Jake do naturally?’ His voice made them all start a little.
‘Come and visit me, dear boy, both of you.’ She chuckled. ‘Although after seeing this enormous house of yours I hardly dare ask you.’
He planted a kiss on her cheek. ‘They’re both homes—size hasn’t anything to do with it. Of course we’ll come. We’re not going away, you know—I can’t spare the time, so we’ll have a holiday in a little while. In any case I’m rather hampered with these.’ He thumped his crutches on the floor. ‘You’re all going back with Mama, of course.’
They all went into the hall where Mevrouw van Germert joined them presently, to be driven away by the stolid Hans. The great house seemed very quiet after that and it was Jake who broke the silence. ‘You look beautiful,’ he observed, ‘but how about getting into something easy and we’ll have supper. Will half an hour suit you?’
Annis went upstairs with Katrina the housekeeper leading the way and this time she was shown into another bedroom, an enormous apartment overlooking the street, its two windows hung with pale brocade, a fourposter bed, covered with the same rich stuff, against the opposite wall. There was a massive tallboy flanked by two velvet-covered chairs along one side and the fourth wall held three doors. Annis, left alone by the smiling Katrina, skimmed round the room, examining everything and liking it all very much. Finally she opened the doors. A bathroom, fitted out in a misty blue with piles of coloured towels on its shelves, a great cupboard which lighted up as she opened its door, revealing rows of shelves and lines of padded hangers with her clothes already neatly arranged, and lastly a short passage with a door at its end. It led to another bedroom, much smaller but equally comfortable and obviously in use. Jake’s—she shut the door quickly and wondered what she would have done if he had been there, then instantly told herself she was a fool; she was his wife now, even though she hadn’t got used to the idea.
She took off her veil and sat down on the bed. It had been an exciting, unforgettable day and she was deeply grateful to Jake because he had shown her off with such pride to his enormous family. At least he had a fondness for her and her first idea that he had wanted to marry her so that he might have someone to run his house hadn’t been in the least bit true. Katrina did that beautifully, although she could quite see that with a family and friends in such numbers a wife to arrange his entertaining and social life would be of great help to him; she didn’t think he was a man to worry about such things, merely expecting them to be arranged for him. She got out of her dress slowly and went to run a bath. And who was Nina? Someone important or merely a name dropped in spite by that beastly woman with the cold eyes? Annis lay in the bath until the water cooled and then raced through her dressing because she had already been more than half an hour. She put on a simple little printed dress with a high neck and elbow sleeves gathered into bands, brushed her hair back and let it hang down her back, and went downstairs.
Jake was leaning against the massive post at the foot of the staircase. ‘Hullo—I was beginning to wonder if you’d flown out of a window.’
She beamed at him, suddenly very happy; he looked splendid despite the crutches, his grey suit exactly right for the occasion, and as well as that he looked content so that his rather arrogant face had softened. And there was nothing wrong with the admiring look he had given her. They went in to supper and Annis, sitting opposite him at the big mahogany table, thought how nice it was to feel so completely at ease with someone, especially when he was her husband. Cor waited on them, beaming goodwill as he served hors d’oeuvres, fillet of beef Meurice, and followed these with a magnificent mouthwatering confection which he assured them with pride had been specially thought up by the cook, a wonderful concoction of fresh fruit in brandy, ice cream, tiny macaroons and almonds, the whole wreathed around with whipped cream. Annis, who hadn’t eaten much at the reception, enjoyed it all and over a second helping asked if they might not thank the cook. ‘All this on top of the reception. They must have worked in the kitchen for hours, only you’ll have to do it, Jake, because they won’t understand me.’
So the cook, Minna, and her two kitchen helpers were sent for and Jake made a short speech, not a word of which did Annis understand, but at the end she said ‘Thank you’ and smiled widely at them and when they had gone she said urgently: ‘Jake, I must learn Dutch—how long will it take?’
He grinned at her cheerfully. ‘It’s not an easy language, but I’ll find someone to teach you the basics of conversation; the grammar can be wrestled with later. Shall we have coffee in the drawing room?’
They talked for a bit, about the wedding and the various people at it, and Jake told her a little of his family. There seemed so many of them, she observed, bewildered by the names. ‘But you’ll not see much of them,’ he pointed out. ‘Which reminds me—Waldo and Olympia have asked us to go over to Middleburg for dinner one evening. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?’
Annis nodded. ‘I liked them. Jake, what time do we have breakfast—will someone call me?’
‘Yes, of course, but you don’t have to get up unless you want to. I breakfast at half past seven, take Mike for a walk and go to the surgery at eight-thirty. Rather early, perhaps?’
‘I’m used to getting up early. Besides, we shan’t see much of each other otherwise.’ She went pink under his little smile and the awful thought that perhaps he didn’t want to see all that much of her crossed her mind.
‘I expect you’re used to being on your own,’ she said gruffly. ‘Your post and the papers…’
‘Yes, I am, but I’d much rather have you to keep me company, as you say we shan’t see a great deal of each other.’ He put down his coffee cup and sat staring at her. ‘Only another week or two and I’ll be rid of this plaster, which will rather alter things.’ He added abruptly: ‘You’re happy, Annis?’
She looked down at her hands. ‘Yes, Jake, I am.’
‘Getting over Ola? It takes time, my dear.’ He sounded so sympathetic that she wanted to tell him how wrong he was about it all, but he went on easily: ‘You won’t have much time to sit and remember, and that should be a good thing. Katrina is longing to lead you round the house and show you everything; she’ll help you with the household shopping and Cor will translate for you until you can manage for yourself. He keeps the accounts too, but perhaps you would like to see how everything is managed. We’ll go into finances one day soon; there’s an account for the house expenses and I’ve arranged for you to have your own account. Your allowance is already in it—every quarter, if that suits you? Don’t worry if you spend too much, I have enough money—more than enough.’
Annis said, ‘Yes, Jake,’ meekly and became silent again; the moment had passed and she wondered when she would have a chance to tell him, or if that chance would ever occur, for that matter. Certainly not then and now, for he added firmly: ‘I expect you’re tired.’ Suddenly he sounded very formal, just as though he were addressing one of his patients. ‘I hope you’ll be comfortable. Don’t hesitate to ask for anything you want—this is your home now.’
He had got to his feet and was leaning on his crutches and she had the feeling that she had been dismissed, kindly and politely, but dismissed. A little bubble of despondency exploded inside her so that she spoke snappily:
‘I’m sure there’s everything I could possibly need, thank you. Goodnight, Jake.’
She rushed to the door and was through it before he could get half way across the room. Somehow she held back her tears until she reached her room. Tears of temper, she assured herself, because he hadn’t even bothered to wish her goodnight. Why had she married him? she demanded crossly of the beautiful room around her, and then wailed: ‘Oh, I love him, don’t I? And I’ve been beastly…that lovely reception and the flowers and my pearls and meeting all his family, and I expect he’s just as fed up about his wretched plaster as I am.’ She started to undress and then half way through tore into her dressing gown and ran downstairs again. She couldn’t g
o to bed without telling him she was sorry for being so thoroughly beastly… She opened the door and nipped across the room before he could get out of his chair and flung herself down on her knees beside him. ‘Jake, I’m so sorry! I was rude and horrible—after all you’ve done for me—my lovely wedding day and this simply wonderful house and the pearls—and I had to snap at you like that. I’m an ungrateful wretch.’
He was sitting very straight in his chair, looking at her, holding one of her hands. ‘Now there’s a nice girl,’ he said, and it hurt her that he should look amused as he said it. ‘But you’re making a mountain out of a molehill, you know. I hadn’t noticed you being—er—ungrateful. You’re upsetting yourself for no reason at all, my dear. You’re more tired than you realise.’
She stared back at him. He looked and sounded remote now and she went hot with embarrassment. He must think her a fool, trying to draw attention to herself. She jumped to her feet. ‘Well, yes, I think I am. Thank you for my—our lovely wedding day. Good-night, Jake.’
She didn’t look at him but went as quickly as she could from the room. To burst into tears on her wedding day wouldn’t do at all; that was a luxury she would allow herself presently. But once in her enormous bed, sitting up high against the lace-trimmed pillows, there seemed no point in howling her eyes out over something which after all was exactly what she had expected. Besides, it was a waste of time to cry. She put her chin on her knees and clasped her arms round them and thought long and hard. She had known that Jake didn’t love her—not in the way she loved him, at any rate, but there was no reason why he shouldn’t—in time. She would have to discover what kind of girl he liked and model herself along those lines. She would have to discover too his likes and dislikes and which of his friends he liked to see most; the clothes he preferred her to wear…and she would have to learn Dutch just as quickly as possible. It was really quite a programme, and she must try and get through it before he had his plaster off, for he had said that then they would go on holiday, and what better chance to further her purpose?
She got out of bed and took a look at herself in the pier glass, peering anxiously into her pretty face, searching for lines and wrinkles. There weren’t any, nor were there any grey hairs in her glorious tumbling mop, and there was nothing wrong with her figure, a bit too opulent for the fashionable, perhaps, but she supposed she passed muster. She got back into bed, and in the middle of her plans, went to sleep.
She woke to find the sun streaming through the windows and Ellie standing by the bed with a tray. She smiled and said something in Dutch, and Annis said ‘Goeden morgen,’ and hoped there would be no need for her to try and say anything else. There wasn’t; there was an envelope on the tray, addressed to her in Jake’s spidery hand. ‘I told Cor to let you sleep until nine o’clock,’ it said, ‘later if you want to. I’ll be home at lunch time and Mevrouw Pette will be calling about eleven o’clock to discuss your Dutch lessons.’ He had signed it simply: Jake.
Annis ate her breakfast quickly and then lay in a hot bath trying to decide what to wear. The days were growing cooler but the sun still shone; she chose a dress, a slim cotton jersey with a little jacket, and because she was Mevrouw van Germert now, she did her hair in a coil, smoothing it into wings on either side, from which small curls escaped almost immediately. She did her face carefully and then sat practising a variety of expressions in the looking glass. She was a little put out that she hadn’t been called in time to have breakfast with Jake—she had understood that that was the arrangement, but perhaps he had really wanted her to have her sleep out, and not, as a nasty little voice at the back of her head kept whispering, because he hadn’t wanted her at breakfast to spoil his solitude. She must remember to smile and look composed, and not frown, she told herself as she went down the staircase and into the hall, where Cor, appearing silently, wished her a dignified good morning and led her to the library, a room, he volunteered, which seemed suitable for the giving of lessons.
‘And I will bring coffee at once, Mevrouw,’ he promised, vanishing as silently as he had arrived.
The library was rather dark, by reason of the great number of books lining its walls and the two narrow windows at one end of it. There was a narrow gallery running round two sides of it with a few steps to it and Annis prowled round, peering at titles in German, Dutch and English. Most of them looked learned and she was glad to see that laid out on the round table in the centre of the room were an assortment of magazines, both Dutch and English. She picked up Harpers and retired to a large leather armchair to browse, feeling a little guilty because she wasn’t doing anything useful. Indeed, when Cor came presently with the coffee she asked him: ‘Ought I to see Katrina or something, Cor? I know she runs the house beautifully, but I’ll have to learn, won’t I?’
He gave her a fatherly smile. ‘The doctor suggested that you should do nothing this morning, Mevrouw, except meet Mevrouw Pette. He will be home to lunch and Katrina has arranged a simple meal for you both. Perhaps after lunch you might like to come to the kitchen and discuss the evening menu with Katrina. I will be there, of course, to assist you.’
Annis nodded. ‘I’d like that. Will you show Mevrouw Pette in when she comes, Cor? And should she have coffee too?’
‘I shall bring a fresh tray, Mevrouw.’
After he had gone, she picked up Harpers again and sipped her coffee. She would have to get used to Jake’s way of living; not at all like her own had been. She had a fleeting memory of morning coffee at the hospital, drunk in a tearing hurry between jobs, and on Spitzbergen she had mostly had hers out of doors. She sighed. Life had been simple there, although perhaps Ola had complicated it just for a time. She drank another cup and studied the fashions. The prices were shocking although some of the clothes were absolutely wonderful. The thought struck her that if she wanted to, she could have them if she wished; Jake had given her an allowance which would allow for extravagance if she were so inclined. She was weighing the advantages of a soft wool two-piece against a coat-dress when Cor came in and announced Mevrouw Pette, and Annis got to her feet.
She had imagined that her teacher would be a serious woman, rather elderly, wearing glasses and flat shoes and fearfully keen on grammar, but she saw at once that her imagination had run away with her. Mevrouw Pette was young, stylish and pretty, with a pleasant smiling face and a brisk voice.
They shook hands and eyed each other while they sat down. Annis smiled suddenly. ‘I don’t know why, but I thought you’d be elderly and stern.’
Mevrouw Pette giggled. ‘I am none of these things, Mevrouw van Germert. I will tell you that I am a widow, my husband was a patient of the doctor’s and he has been so kind as to encourage me to give English people here Dutch lessons; that is five years ago now, and I have many pupils, thanks to him, and now I hope I am to have you too.’
‘Oh, please. I want to learn to speak Dutch just as quickly as I can.’
‘Then we will work hard. My mother was English, but I went to school in Holland, although we always spoke English at home. It annoyed me then, but now I am glad of it.’ She paused while Cor came in with more coffee. ‘You are just married?’ she asked when he had gone. ‘You do not know Goes?’
‘Well, a little, I’ll find my way around. Shall I need any books?’
Mevrouw Pette nodded. ‘I will give you a list, and now if you would like it, we will talk about your lessons. If you would tell me when you would like me to come?’ The two of them put their heads together and before Mevrouw Pette got up to go it had been decided that Annis was to have a lesson three times a week in the mornings, and on the other days work at her books. ‘We shall work hard,’ Mevrouw Pette promised her. ‘We will surprise the good doctor; each week something.’ She beamed satisfaction at Annis and made her say goodbye in Dutch by way of a beginning.
Annis found herself settling into her new life with astonishing ease; she had had her doubts about doing nothing at all, but she found that her days were filled with a multitude of
occupations, most of them very much to her liking. Breakfast, she quickly discovered, was a meal which Jake liked to eat more or less in silence; he had his post to open, the headlines of the papers to read, and more often than not, his pocketbook open beside him in which to scribble notes. Annis, after one such meal with him, relieved him of the chore of opening the letters, kept his coffee cup filled and beyond a cheerful good morning only spoke when she was spoken to, and was rewarded for this by his: ‘What a restful girl you are, Annis,’ as he eyed her over his letters. ‘And nice to look at too, I can see that breakfast will no longer be a necessary chore before I start work.’
She had found nothing to say to that, although she had gone rather pink.
Her mornings were filled: a painstaking inspection of the store cupboards with Katrina, doing her best to repeat the Dutch names for the things in them, then a laborious reading of the menus for lunch and dinner followed by a quick dash round the garden with Mike before going to the small sitting room ready for Mevrouw Pette, and when that lady didn’t come, to the library where she sat at a desk in a businesslike fashion, worrying at her Dutch books like a dog with a bone. Sometimes, when Jake came home for lunch, she tried out a few words of Dutch on him, a little nervous of being laughed at, a thing which he never did, encouraging her to talk, helping her.
They had been married for five days and it was Sunday on the following day. Jake had been out of the house most of the day, but now, over a late dinner, he observed: ‘You’ve been pretty marvellous; not a grumble or a frown from you since we married, and heaven knows it must have been dull for you at least some of the time. Thank you, my dear. Things will be easier next week, we might even have a trip to den Haag and go round the shops. And tomorrow I shall be free all day. Would you like a trip somewhere?’
Annis smiled widely. Her five days of forbearance had paid off. ‘Well, it would be fun, but you don’t like not driving, do you?’