by Betty Neels
Annis stayed where she was for a few minutes, then got up and went slowly out of the room. It was only as she stood in the hall that she realised that the study door was open and Jake was sitting at his desk, writing. She had no idea how long he had been there or if he had heard anything, and unless Cor had gone down the hall and looked he wouldn’t have seen that he was in the house again. He didn’t look up until she was at the door and had pushed it wide open and when he did she had no idea if he knew or not; his face gave nothing away.
She said in a quiet little voice: ‘Ola was here.’
Jake put down his pen and looked up at her. ‘Oh? To see you, my dear?’ He sounded only mildly interested.
‘Yes.’ She swallowed from a dry mouth. ‘He wanted me to go away with him; he said he was sorry for the way he’d treated me, that he’d left his wife.’
Jake’s dark eyes didn’t leave her face. ‘And he came all this way to tell you that?’
She shook her head. ‘At least, he said he’d had to go to Rotterdam on business. He got your address from someone he knew who’d been at the station.’
Jake nodded. ‘And what did you say, Annis?’
‘That I wouldn’t go away, that I didn’t want to…’ She wanted to tell him that Ola meant nothing to her, that he himself, sitting there looking quite grey with weariness, was the only man she would ever love. She opened her mouth to say so and then shut it again because of the bleak, unyielding look on his face.
‘You were surprised to see him?’
‘Of course I was—I didn’t expect to see him again ever. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw him this morning.’
His eyebrows rose a little. ‘That too?’
She mumbled an explanation and went on: ‘He came to the house just now…’
‘After you had met him this morning?’ His cold voice implied that they had arranged it between them and she said sharply: ‘You think I asked him to come?’
His eyes looked black and hard. ‘The thought did cross my mind.’
Annis said loudly: ‘You thought I would encourage him, that I told him to come, that I…’ She broke off and stood twisting the door handle to and fro in her hands. Then: ‘You’re busy, aren’t you, I won’t bother you now. Goodnight, Jake.’
She closed the door very quietly behind her and went upstairs.
At breakfast the next morning Annis, struggling to keep some kind of conversation going, painstakingly worked her way through the weather, Mike, and then the weather again, until his remote politeness stilled her tongue. He was getting up from the table when she burst out with: ‘Jake, I do want to talk to you. I know you’re busy, but couldn’t you spare a few minutes now?’
He stood looking at her, large and powerful and rugged and apparently unruffled. His voice was mild. ‘I think it might be better if we waited until we both feel calmer, when we can discuss the situation rationally.’
‘But there isn’t a situation, and I don’t want to be rational!’ cried Annis, almost in tears.
He turned away and she realised that he was furiously angry and hiding it.
‘Which is exactly why we should wait until you have had time to become so.’
She had got up too, standing holding on to the back of her chair. ‘Jake, I don’t want any time, I only want to tell you…’
He went to the door and opened it before he answered her. ‘Not now.’ And he went without another look at her.
Annis brushed away her tears with a furious hand, sat herself down and drank another cup of coffee without tasting any of it.
Presently she got up and crossed the hall to the library and sat down at the desk there. After several false starts she cast aside her intention to write the kind of letter she had meant to and instead took another sheet of paper and scribbled her feelings down just as she felt.
‘Jake, I’m going away. It’s no use me staying, because you don’t believe me about Ola and I’ve been trying to tell you for weeks that I love you, but I don’t suppose you’d believe that either—perhaps you don’t want to. And if it’s still Nina you want then for heaven’s sake say so. I’m quite able to look after myself and who knows, I might get rational—if I do I’ll let you know. Annis.’
She dashed this missive off with an angry pen and not bothering to read it through, put it in an envelope and left it on Jake’s desk in his study. Even if he was coming back for lunch, she had plenty of time to go wherever she was going. She stood in the hall, wondering just where she should go and how, and a nasty little feeling of panic crept through her. She had no idea.
The matter was nicely solved for her by Cor, coming to look for her.
‘The car the doctor ordered for you, Mevrouw—it has just arrived. Perhaps you would like to inspect it.’
She had forgotten about the car, and it seemed like a sign from heaven. She could use it to get away, but where to go? She smiled at Cor and while she was declaring her delight and saying that yes, she would come at once, she was thinking feverishly. Olympia? That wouldn’t do, she couldn’t implicate her, nor could she go to her mother-in-law. There wasn’t anywhere else. The panic caught hold again until she remembered Schudderbeurs. Not too far away, quiet, and after all it was an hotel as well as a restaurant. She found herself on the doorstep looking at a Mini, exactly the same colour as the Bristol. It was a beautiful little car; as she examined it she felt sick with misery. Everything could have been so wonderful; she had thought that once Jake’s leg had recovered completely everything would have come right between them, but it had made no difference, his manner hadn’t changed one iota from his usual casual friendliness. She dimly heard Cor ask: ‘Mevrouw, are you ill? You are so pale.’
She managed a smile. ‘I’m excited, Cor, that’s all. Could it stay here for a while, I’d like to examine it presently.’
‘Of course, Mevrouw. Your licence hasn’t arrived yet?’
‘No, but I’ve got my British one with me, though that’s no use—or is it?’ She didn’t wait for him to reply but went on: ‘When Mevrouw Pette comes, could we have coffee right away, not at the end of the lesson as we usually do?’
‘Of course, Mevrouw.’
She smiled at him and ran upstairs to her room, her mind full of the idea which was getting clearer every minute. She would tell Cor that she was going to take the Mini for a very short run, and then just go. Jake would know that she was all right because of the letter. She pulled a small case out of the clothes closet and packed a few things haphazardly; enough for a week, she decided, and gave a tearful giggle. ‘I’ll be rational by then,’ she said out loud, and then burst into tears.
She had done things to her face by the time Mevrouw Pette was due to arrive, so that although she was a little pale, there was no trace of tears. She had never been so clever at her lessons; Mevrouw Pette was full of praise for her hard work, congratulating herself silently for having been lenient with her pupil over the last few days. ‘You will be speaking as well as any of us very shortly,’ she promised, ‘and think how proud of you the doctor will be.’
Annis agreed woodenly, suggested that the lesson might end a little early as she had one or two things to do before lunch and bade her teacher goodbye. The house was quiet as she went upstairs. Everyone would be in the kitchen for half an hour or so. She changed into a jersey dress and the long coat matching it, put on a pair of high-heeled shoes, quite impractical in the circumstances but wonderful for her morale, and ran downstairs.
Cor looked doubtful about her taking the car and wanted to come with her. ‘Just a short run,’ she told him breathlessly, ‘I’ll be quite all right.’
‘And is there any message for the doctor if he should return early, Mevrouw?’
‘No—no, thank you, Cor.’ She avoided his doubtful eye, kissed Mike’s great head and went to the door, conscious that Cor’s eyes were on the case.
‘Shoes,’ she told him, ‘for mending, you know.’ She was away before he could answer her. He watched her start the little
car and disappear round the corner before he closed the door, frowning. There was something not quite right…
CHAPTER NINE
ANNIS DROVE the Mini carefully through Goes and over the Zeeland Brug to the outskirts of Zierikzee where she turned off along the brick dyke road which would take her to Schudderbeurs. It was clouding over now, the sun hidden behind thick ribbons of cloud, and although the little car was warm, she shivered. She turned again presently, into the narrow lane which would take her the short distance to the hotel. It was very quiet everywhere and she wished suddenly that she was back home in Goes. Perhaps she should have stayed with Jake, although she didn’t think that that would have been possible. They had reached a point in their relationship when they had either to talk or finish—and Jake wouldn’t talk.
The hostelry was as quiet as the countryside around it and there were only a couple of cars parked on the sweep before its door. She set the Mini tidily beside them and went inside.
Mevrouw Bouteka came to meet her. ‘Mevrouw van Germert—what a surprise, and how nice to see you…’ She peered over Annis’s shoulder. ‘And the doctor? You come for lunch, perhaps?’
‘Yes, please, at least just me—the doctor’s not with me.’ Annis followed her into the restaurant and sat down at a small table. ‘Just something light, please, I’m not hungry.’
‘An omelette, with a salad on the side and perhaps a glass of sherry first? Or coffee?’
‘Sherry, please, and coffee later.’ Annis settled in her chair, suddenly tired, resolutely trying not to think. She felt better when she had had lunch, and it was over her coffee that she asked Mevrouw Bouteka: ‘Have you a room? I’d like to stay here for a day or two—my case is in the car.’
Not a muscle of Mevrouw Bouteka’s pleasant face changed. ‘But of course, Mevrouw. We aren’t busy now at the end of the season, we have several rooms. Your case shall be taken up for you.’
‘Thank you—I’m not sure for how long.’ She followed Mevrouw Bouteka’s brisk tread up the stairs and into a pleasant room on the first floor and sat down to wait while her case was fetched. Unpacking took no time at all, and it was too unpleasant outside to go for a walk. She lay down on the bed and presently went to sleep.
When she woke up it was four o’clock; at least she could go down and have a cup of tea. The restaurant was deserted and she sat down by the open hearth and picked up a magazine. But it was in Dutch and in her present state it was too much effort to try and understand any of it. Her head was full of Jake and nothing else. She couldn’t imagine being without him and thinking about him had started to dissolve the hard knot of tears she had so resolutely held at bay; the tears began to trickle down her cheeks, faster than she could wipe them away. And that was how Mevrouw Bouteka found her presently, and she, being a wise little woman, said nothing but fetched a tray of tea, put another log on the fire, made some cheerful remark about the drabness of the day, then went away again. In her office she sat thoughtfully for a few minutes and then went in search of her husband. When she came back, she closed the door carefully behind her and lifted the telephone receiver. She knew Jake’s number, she was a methodical person and had the names and addresses of all her regular visitors. She was a discreet woman, but just now and then she considered that discretion should be cast to the four winds.
Jake answered the phone, Annis’s note still in his hand. He had just come in and Cor, meeting him at the door, had told him at once that Annis wasn’t home. ‘She’s been gone for several hours,’ said Cor worriedly. ‘I took the liberty of telephoning round to the most likely places…’
‘My friends in Middelburg?’ interrupted Jake, white about the mouth.
‘Oh, yes, and Mevrouw van Germert your mother, and your sister, and I rang Vlissingen and the Hoek…’
The two men exchanged glances. ‘Thank you, Cor. I’ve been a fool.’ Jake’s voice was bitter. When the telephone rang he snatched at the receiver and said ‘Yes?’ impatiently.
Cor watched the harsh lines of his face soften and disappear and let out a sigh of relief as Jake said: ‘I’ll be over within the hour, Mevrouw Bouteka. Please don’t say anything to my wife. And thank you.’
He replaced the receiver slowly. ‘My wife’s at Schudderbeurs, Cor. She took the Mini. I can’t go immediately; there’s that urgent case I must see, but I should be back in half an hour. Stay near the phone and let me know if there’s anything—I’ll be at the hospital.’
He was gone, looking suddenly ten years younger.
Annis had gone for a walk after all, wrapped in an old coat of Mevrouw Bouteka’s. The grey skies had turned to rain, a fine rain with a chilly wind, but she hardly noticed, it was something to do and it passed the long day.
When she went down to dinner the restaurant was almost empty, as it was early yet. Two couples on the further side of the room were almost hidden by the centre chimney and Annis, sitting on its further side, was well hidden. Mevrouw Bouteka had wished her a good evening, put a cup of coffee on the table beside her and gone again, back to the table in front of the little bar, where she sat when the tables were occupied, doing her accounts.
Annis took a sip of coffee and then, lost in thought, forgot it. She was unable to think sensibly any more, her head was awash with silly daydreams and longings and regrets. They occupied her thoughts so completely that she didn’t see Jake come in.
He sat down beside her and took her hand in his and held it fast. He said very softly: ‘Hullo, darling.’
Annis sat staring at him, her face even whiter than it had been. She made a futile attempt to pull her hand free and cast around in her bewildered head for something to say; equally futile, for all she came up with was a whispered: ‘How did you know?’
His smile warmed the cold inside her although he still looked tired to death. ‘I didn’t,’ he told her. ‘I was trying to decide where to look for you when Mevrouw Bouteka telephoned.’
‘She did? But why should she do that?’
His hand still enveloped hers, it felt very large and firm and she hoped that he would never let her own hand go. ‘Most people like to see the path of true love running smoothly,’ he told her.
‘Oh,’ said Annis, and was glad when Mevrouw Bouteka joined them. She had been watching them for the last few minutes and had drawn her own conclusions.
‘How nice to see you, Doctor van Germert. You will have a drink? And I hope you are staying for dinner?’
‘Champagne cocktails, Mevrouw Bouteka, and yes, we should like to dine.’ He took the menu she offered without releasing Annis’s hand. ‘I don’t suppose you’ve had much to eat, my love. What would you like?’
She was suddenly put out; it seemed that all he could think of was dinner. Mevrouw Bouteka came back with their drinks and she heard Jake tell her that they wouldn’t dine for another half an hour. ‘We should like to sit here quietly,’ he told her, and she being perceptive said instantly:
‘Of course—we aren’t busy. If you would like to order it shall be served in half an hour’s time.’
Annis was staring down into her glass and he smiled a little. ‘Some of your excellent fish, I think, for us both, perhaps an avocado first? We can leave the sweet for the moment, can we not? And champagne, please.’
When Mevrouw Bouteka had gone, he said: ‘We have a great deal to say to each other, my dearest darling. Most of it can wait until we are home again, but I find myself quite unable to sit here without telling you that I love you.’ His hand tightened on hers as she looked up at him. He went on quietly: ‘I fell in love with you when you arrived at the station, you know, and then just as I began to think I was making some headway with you, Ola arrived so dramatically and swept you off your feet.’
Annis’s green eyes were swimming with tears. ‘But you didn’t believe me—you thought I still loved him, and I tried to tell you and you wouldn’t listen—and that beastly Nina…’
He lifted her hand and kissed the palm gently. ‘Nina, my darling, is of no acc
ount, a piece of my past which is of no possible importance.’ He added with a twinkle: ‘Just like Ola.’
Annis gave a sniff and then a shaky little laugh. ‘I didn’t know you loved me, Jake, darling Jake.’
‘That’s better. And I had no intention of telling you, not while I thought Ola was still such a menace.’ He squeezed her hand. ‘Drink up, sweetheart, it will give you an appetite.’
She felt the champagne giving her a lift, but she didn’t need one now; suddenly life was glorious, she was so happy that she wanted to throw her arms round Jake’s neck and kiss him. She could do that later, she told herself happily. Now she was content to sit here beside him, watching his dark, loved face and listening to him calling her his darling. She drank the rest of her champagne and said dreamily: ‘Everything’s wonderful. Jake, I shouldn’t have had that drink.’
He laughed. ‘It isn’t the champagne, darling. Ah, here is our dinner.’
She had no idea what she ate, certainly she drank a little too much champagne, and when she protested all Jake would say was: ‘After all, dearest, this is our wedding night.’
He covered her hand on the table and said: ‘Eat your dinner, like a good girl, and we’ll go home.’
So she ate obediently, looking up every now and then to find him looking at her with such love that she pinkened with delight, wishing the meal was over and they were home again. But Mijnheer Bouteka’s cooking wasn’t the sort one could hurry over and it seemed a long time before they had drunk their coffee and Jake said: ‘Go and pack your bag, darling; someone will fetch it down for you while I pay the bill.’
She wanted to run up the staircase as fast as she could go, but she managed not to and when she came down a few minutes later she looked to be her usual serene self, only her eyes glowed with excitement.
They wished Mevrouw Bouteka goodbye and went out into the chilly evening to where the Bristol was standing, and just before she got in Jake kissed her swiftly. ‘My God, I’ve been wanting to do that all the evening,’ he said. ‘We’ll be home in less than half an hour.’ He turned to look at her. ‘My darling, promise me you’ll never run away again—nothing quite so terrifying has ever happened to me in my whole life.’