by Betty Neels
‘Hate it, but I’ve not much choice for the moment. The plaster’s coming off next week, by the way, and they’ll put on a walking iron for another week or two. Just as soon as it’s possible they’ll take that off and I’ll be able to manage with a stick.’ He stared at her hard. ‘You really don’t mind if we don’t use the car? What would you like to do?’
She hesitated. ‘I think it would be lovely to go round the house with you and you can tell me everything there is to know about it—only would that bore you?’
‘Not in the least—and how about dining at Schudderbeurs?’
‘Lovely. When will you get a day off?’
‘Wednesday. You’d like to go shopping?’
‘I’ve no need to buy anything,’ began Annis. His laugh interrupted her. ‘I’m sure you’ll see something.’ His face became serious. ‘You’re happy, Annis?’ And after a pause: ‘No regrets?’
‘None, Jake, and I’m very happy.’ It was a pity that there was the length of the table between them, as it was hardly conducive to an intimate conversation. Perhaps it would be easier in the drawing room. ‘Shall we have our coffee?’ she suggested, and once seated there with the coffee tray before her and Jake lounging in his great chair opposite, she drew a deep breath, ready to say all the things she had been longing to say. Only she didn’t get the chance. The door opened and Cor came in.
‘Mijnheer en Mevrouw van Tigler,’ he announced in a voice which held discreet disapproval. And ‘Oh, God,’ said Jake under his breath, ‘at this hour too!’ He got to his feet as the woman who had asked about Nina at the wedding surged into the room, her husband behind her. She was in evening dress and her one swift glance in Annis’s direction took in the simple jersey dress she was wearing and despised it even while she exclaimed with calculated sweetness: ‘Jake, my dear, and Annis—we’re on our way back from Utrecht—the Burgermeester’s reception, you know, and I told Wim that we simply had to come and see you both and have a drink with you.’ Her eye fell on the coffee tray. ‘Oh, coffee—have you only just dined?’
Jake replied with cold civility, greeted Wim and turned to Annis with a smile. ‘We were going to have an early night,’ he observed, ‘but do stay for a drink. What will you have?’
‘Whisky.’ Mevrouw van Tigler sat down beside Annis. ‘Annis, how nice to have a little chat with you; there was no chance at the wedding. I expect you have had a wonderful week.’
‘If you mean have we been out and about each day,’ said Annis calmly, ‘we haven’t, but just being together is enough, Mevrouw van Tigler.’
Her companion’s beringed hand rested on her arm. ‘Call me Ria,’ she smiled brilliantly. ‘After all, you’re family now.’
She accepted a glass from Jake and waited while he went to sit by her husband. Too far away for help, thought Annis vexedly, unless he had the power to hear over and above the normal. Apparently he had, for when Ria asked: ‘And has Jake told you all about his past life?—quite worth hearing, I can assure you—though you’ll know all about it, I daresay.’
Annis picked up her coffee cup and took a sip, wondering what to say. Whatever she said this horrible woman was going to turn and twist it…
‘You always were a woman for asking questions and wanting the answers, Ria.’ He added: ‘Is that why you came?’ He looked at his watch. ‘It’s very late.’
Ria flushed angrily. ‘You haven’t changed, Jake—still rude when it suits you. I suppose you want Annis to think you never looked at another girl before she married you.’
It seemed time to join in. ‘I certainly wouldn’t have married him if he hadn’t,’ said Annis sweetly. Her heart gave a happy little leap at the look of approval which Jake sent her. ‘And it’s a pity it’s so late—Jake’s had a busy day.’
‘You must have known you wouldn’t be able to see much of him,’ said Ria snappily. ‘A doctor…’
‘Well, of course I did; having been a nurse in hospital you know, one quickly realised that doctors can’t call their days their own. But Jake’s doing a job he likes, a useful job, too. To do nothing at all must be so boring for a man.’
She could almost hear the silence which greeted this remark and when she looked across at Wim it was to see that his ruddy complexion had turned a rich claret and he was looking annoyed. There was no expression on Jake’s face at all, though, and she didn’t have time to look very well because Ria had finished her whisky and got to her feet. She said with artificial sweetness: ‘You must come and see us soon, both of you.’ She went to the door with Annis beside her and paused there. ‘You’re such a lucky man, Jake,’ she said loudly, ‘to have found someone so—so suitable after Nina.’
Annis felt his arm round her shoulders and because he was leaning on his other crutch, it was extremely heavy. ‘I’m a very lucky man,’ he agreed affably. ‘Annis is, as you say, so suitable.’ He left Annis and opened the door, and then swung across the hall to wait while Cor let his visitors out.
Annis, alone in the lovely room, wandered across to the sofa where she had been sitting. Ria was a nasty piece of work and she had succeeded in spoiling their evening, at least her evening. It was impossible to see what Jake thought about it, for his face looked very much as usual, a little austere and arrogant but calm enough. He wasn’t a man to show his feelings.
As soon as he was back in the room she asked: ‘Why am I suitable, Jake?’ And as she said it she knew that it was hopeless to get a reply from him. He said amicably enough: ‘The reasons are obvious, my dear. You’re a nurse, you’re beautiful, you’re a delightful companion.’ He smiled at her, but she knew that he was angry. It was foolish of her to persist with:
‘And Nina—was she suitable too?’
He stood leaning on his crutches. ‘You don’t have to worry about Nina, my dear. Ria was being spiteful, more so than usual because you see Wim does nothing at all; he hasn’t lifted a finger since the day he was born, that’s why he’s such a dull devil.’ He added: ‘Go to bed, Annis, and don’t turn your molehill into a mountain.’ She felt his light kiss on her cheek as she went.
CHAPTER EIGHT
ANNIS WENT DOWN to breakfast the next morning looking a little pale and heavy-eyed; not because she had been crying, that would have been useless and a waste of time, she had told herself as she had sped upstairs with a barely audible goodnight for Jake. No, she had a good deal to think about. Nina was becoming a nuisance and a threat to her peace of mind—besides, she was important enough to Jake for him to refuse to talk about her. Somehow she would have to find out more about the other girl, and she had spent a large part of the night cudgelling her brains as to how best to do that. She could of course ask her mother-in-law, but it seemed unlikely that that formidable lady, however well disposed towards her, would tell tales about her son, and it was impossible, though tempting, to ask Cor. That left her with Jake’s sister, whom she didn’t know well and who had gone away on holiday anyway, and Olympia van der Graaf. The latter, she had decided before closing her eyes and sleeping for the small slice of the night which was left.
Jake was already in the small pleasant breakfast room, standing at the window looking out into the street with Mike beside him. He greeted her cheerfully and although his dark eyes swept over her tired face with swift intentness, he merely remarked upon the dismal weather outside, giving the opinion that he was glad that they would be indoors for most of the day.
‘We really must have a talk,’ he observed as they sat down and she lifted the coffee pot to pour their coffee. ‘What about?’
‘Money mostly, boring to you, but you’ll have to know something of our financial affairs…and holidays, too. What would you like to do? Travel a little—go to England? Cruise?’
She buttered a roll and popped a piece into her mouth. ‘And when will that be?’
‘October—the end of October, I’m afraid. Not too far away to make plans.’ He began to discuss what they might do and she answered him pleasantly and thought about Nina while her insid
es melted at the sight of him sitting on the other side of the table.
‘You’re not listening,’ said Jake.
‘Oh, yes, I—well, actually perhaps I wasn’t. I was thinking; it’s—it’s funny, sitting here with you, I mean being your wife…’ She saw his eyebrows lift and hastened to add: ‘Not funny—strange, unlikely.’
Jake gave her a long hard stare. ‘I think I prefer funny.’ He spoke so coldly that she said, suddenly fierce:
‘You know very well what I mean.’
He grinned at her with faint mockery. ‘You’re very beautiful when you’re cross.’
‘I am not cross.’
‘No? But still beautiful.’ He smiled at her, with no mockery this time, and she caught her breath; for the moment the vexed question of Nina could wait.
They spent the entire morning going round the house, not just looking at the rooms, but examining the treasures in them, while Jake patiently told her the history of each piece of silver, each picture, each chair and chest and cabinet, and she found it enthralling. They were in the little garden room when Cor tracked them down with the coffee tray and they stayed there to drink it. Annis, mulling over all the titbits of information she had gathered about the old house, poured it from the little silver coffee pot and handed Jake a cup. As he took it from her, he observed with pleasure: ‘This is nice, just the two of us.’
She smiled widely. ‘Yes, isn’t it? But don’t you miss Spitzbergen?’
‘Yes, but my home and my work are here. But we’ll go back there one day if you would like that—but perhaps you wouldn’t want to do that.’ He gave her a quick glance and hoisted his plastered leg over a chair. ‘Does Freddy intend to go back?’
‘I don’t know. He seldom tells anyone what he intends doing next.’
‘He and your bridesmaid were getting on very well.’
‘Yes. Wouldn’t it be lovely if… I’d like him to settle down.’ She refilled his cup. ‘But perhaps he’s a little too young to settle down…’
‘Isn’t it a question of finding the right girl rather than his age?’ Jake asked idly.
Annis wanted above all things to ask him if he had found the right girl, but when she looked at him she saw that he was smiling faintly, waiting for her to say something. His eyes looked black, without expression, and she looked away quickly. ‘More coffee?’ she asked him, and didn’t see his faint frown.
They resumed their inspection presently, wandering in and out of the small rooms on the second and third floors, until Annis, on her own now because Jake couldn’t manage the steep little stairs, climbed them to the attics. They were big rooms, low-ceilinged and with great windows, each with a pulley above it so that furniture might be moved in and out of the house easily. One was filled with old trunks, cricket bats, bundles of ice skates and odds and ends of furniture, and its walls were hung with rugger boots on hooks, a couple of children’s sleds and a miscellaneous collection of out-of-date raincoats, woollen scarves and old hats. The second room was rather a surprise—a games room, with a train set occupying the whole of one end of the floor, a table tennis table by the window and a billiard table, rather the worse for wear, and round the wall shelves filled with model boats, boxes of games and a vast collection of balls and tennis rackets.
When she got back to where Jake was waiting for her she asked: ‘Was that your playroom in the attic?’
He nodded, smiling. ‘Yes, my very own room, even Elsa only came when she was invited. The nursery’s on the first floor—I’ll show you.’
It was through a small archway and down a narrow passage. A large airy room, empty save for a large dolls’ house on a table against one wall and a glass-fronted cupboard in which rows of dolls were neatly arranged. Annis would have liked to have examined them more closely, but Jake said briskly: ‘Not much here to look at—come downstairs. I’ll show you the family Bible.’ After lunch he ushered her into his study, a small booklined room opening out from the hall at the opposite end to the drawing room, told her to sit down beside him at his desk and laid before her all the details of his household, and when he mentioned casually what his income was, she gaped at him. ‘But Jake, that’s a fortune—it’s quite frightening!’
‘No, my dear; this house costs a lot to keep up and by the time we’ve deducted household expenses and a dozen and one other things, there’s not a great deal over.’ He pulled a sheet of paper towards her. ‘See for yourself.’
She looked it over carefully because she could see that he expected her to do so, but even then there seemed to be a great deal of money over.
‘So you see, my dear,’ he was leaning back comfortably in his chair, ‘if you should overspend your allowance you will not have to worry about it.’
Annis thought privately that she would have to be wildly extravagant even if she spent the whole of the generous allowance he gave her and said so, but he only laughed. ‘Well, supposing we go to den Haag and do some shopping? We should give a dinner party soon, you know, and I want you to have a dress worthy of your lovely face.’
He had spoken lightly and she didn’t allow herself to believe that he meant it. ‘Who will come?’ she asked.
‘Mama, Elsa if she is back from her holiday and Adriaan with her of course, a handful of aunts and uncles, one or two of my friends who will be your friends too, I hope. Waldo and Olympia, perhaps? Shall we say twelve?’
‘I shall be scared stiff!’
He shook his head. ‘You’re not easily scared, Annis, and I should know.’
They had their tea round the log fire in the small sitting room, and Annis, going upstairs to change her dress afterwards, sighed for the day which had seemed so brief and happy.
Schudderbeurs was full, but there was a table for them, ready in a corner of the restaurant while they sat cosily by the open hearth, sipping their drinks. The lights were dim, and the candles in their brass candlesticks on each table cast a mellow light; the murmur of talk around them and the faint smell of good food coming from the kitchen beyond, all combined to create a welcoming atmosphere. They sat down presently while Mevrouw Bouteka hovered discreetly and Annis, eating the delicious food, relaxed under the influence of Jake’s quiet talk and the good wine, and forgetting her problems, chattered back to him, not noticing the gleam in his dark eyes.
And it was even better later that week. Jake had come home in the evening, walking into the small sitting room where she was sitting with Mike, conning her Dutch lessons. His quiet ‘Hullo, Annis,’ brought her to her feet and then sent her flying to him. His plaster had gone, a stout stick was all there was to show for his injury. Annis had caught his arm. ‘Jake—oh, Jake, how lovely, how absolutely super! Why didn’t you tell me it was to be today? And so soon?’
‘Is it so important?’ His dark eyes bored into hers, then he laughed. ‘Well, perhaps it is—I shall be able to drive again.’
Which wasn’t the answer she had hoped for. She said: ‘How nice,’ rather crossly and asked him his plans for the next day.
‘We’ll go to den Haag,’ he told her, ‘and do some shopping—we’ll share the driving, too. I know you haven’t a licence yet, but I daresay if we’re stopped I’ll be able to explain.’
‘But I don’t think…’ began Annis.
‘If you can drive a jeep in Spitzbergen, you can drive the Bristol on our excellent roads,’ he told her in a no-nonsense voice which left her without argument. ‘We must get your licence as quickly as possible, I’ll tell Cor to see to it; your car will be delivered any day now.’
‘My car?’ queried Annis faintly.
‘A Mini—you must have something to get about in when I’m not around.’
‘Jake, how lovely! Thank you.’ She wanted to throw her arms around his neck and hug him, instead she kissed him sedately on one cheek. He accepted this milk and water salute calmly enough, merely begging her to remember to drive on the right side of the road. His casual manner reminded her strongly of Freddy at his most brotherly.
The
day in den Haag was perfect; Jake had driven the car out of Goes and on to the main road to Rotterdam and then pulled into a layby and told Annis to take the wheel, and when she protested he contrived to make her feel that his leg was being troublesome. ‘But I daresay I can manage to drive through Rotterdam,’ he told her soothingly, ‘and den Haag is no distance from there.’
She had been terrified to start with and then, once she had got the feel of the Bristol, she had begun to enjoy herself. By the time they had reached Rotterdam, she was almost sure that she could have driven through that city and she was quite prepared to do so, but Jake assured her that his leg was perfectly all right and they changed places again. She was glad of it really, for the traffic was heavy and the city confusing to a stranger. Jake knew his way well enough, though, and once clear of the outskirts, let the car slide ahead of the other traffic. He was a fast driver, but a safe one; Annis settled back in her seat, enjoying herself.
They had parked in the city’s centre and had lunch and then Jake had taken her to a boutique in a narrow side street. He had spoken to the shop assistant who had disappeared with a smile and a nod and returned a few minutes later with an armful of gowns, to hold up each one in turn for Annis’s inspection.
They were all equally lovely; silks and chiffons and crêpe-de-chines, and every colour of the rainbow. Annis instantly wished for every one of them but after a first inspection asked to try on a pearl grey silk jersey.
‘Why do you choose that?’ demanded Jake.
‘Well, it’s pretty and it won’t date, you know…’
‘My dear girl, we’re not buying it for posterity, just for the dinner party. Here, let me…’
He got up from the elegant little chair he had sat in. ‘The green,’ he declared, ‘and that cream thing with the lace. Try them both on.’
So she had tried them in turn, secretly delighted with his choice and quite horrified at the price when she discovered the tickets. The green crêpe-de-chine was exactly the shade of her eyes and fitted perfectly, and the cream was just as pretty, its chiffon folds edged with lace. Jake, inspecting them both in turn, nodded. ‘Have both,’ he told her.