by Betty Neels
‘No. He will probably stay the night if the child is very ill.’
So dinner was eaten in a sulky silence on Eunice’s part while Charity made polite conversation and took no notice. It was a relief when the meal was finished and they went back to the drawing-room for their coffee. Eunice seemed reluctant to talk so Charity turned on the television but since the programme was a lecture about the third world by a Dutch politician it hardly helped towards the evening’s entertainment.
‘This is boring,’ declared Eunice crossly. ‘What a dull life you lead—kids to look after and a husband who’s never home. I’m going to bed.’
Charity stayed by the fire knitting the last of the ducks but when the clock struck eleven and Jolly came to see if she needed anything further she told him to go to bed. She went herself to her room to creep downstairs half an hour later in her dressing-gown and slippers, go to the kitchen and make sure that there was a tray laid in case Tyco did come home.
Which he did shortly after midnight, by which time she was dozing by the last of the drawing-room fire. She woke as he went into the hall and went to meet him, her hair a soft cloud around her shoulders, her face rosy with sleep.
‘There you are,’ she said in a motherly voice. ‘Is everything all right?’
He tossed his coat on to a chair. ‘I hope so; we have done our best. You should be in bed.’
She ignored that. ‘Come down to the kitchen; there’s soup and coffee and sandwiches. I’ll make you toast if you would rather…’
He threw an arm round her and she trembled so that he said, ‘You’re cold, I’ll see to myself, my dear.’
She took no notice of that either. In the kitchen she set a bowl of soup before him, poured coffee and uncovered the sandwiches.
He hadn’t stopped to eat, he told her between mouthfuls; the treatment for the child had been too urgent. He told her about it and she listened quietly, understanding what he was talking about, knowing that just to talk it over would help him to relax. He was tired but not too tired to ask if the children were all right and if her evening had been pleasant.
She collected the dishes and carried them to the sink; Mrs Jolly or Nel would put them in the machine in the morning. ‘The children went to sleep at once after all the excitement. Eunice was disappointed that you weren’t home…!’
He yawned. ‘I expect you had a pleasant gossip.’ He caught her by the arm. ‘Bed, my dear.’
They went up the staircase together and parted at the top. He took her hand in his. ‘Thank you, Charity—I had forgotten how pleasant it is to come home to someone.’
Eunice wasn’t at breakfast and Tyco had been gone an hour or more before she came downstairs, looking like a fashion plate and very peevish.
‘Whatever time do you have breakfast?’ she wanted to know. ‘Not that I ever have any…’
‘About half-past seven. Tyco goes soon after eight o’clock and I take the children to school by half-past.’
‘Did he come back last night?’
‘Yes. Very late. I hope you slept well; were you warm enough?’
‘Yes. Are we going out this evening?’
‘I don’t know. If Tyco feels he can leave the unit he’ll let me know.’
They were having coffee when he came in. Charity stayed where she was in her chair and said, ‘How nice—just in time for coffee,’ but Eunice rushed across the room and flung her arms round his neck.
‘No one told me what time you had breakfast,’ she grumbled prettily, ‘but now you’re here—do tell, are we going out this evening?’
‘Perhaps, but I’m not promising anything.’ He had disentangled himself gently and gone to drop a kiss on Charity’s cheek. ‘I’ve given myself an hour off—I’ll collect the children and drop them off on my way back.’
Jolly came in with fresh coffee and Tyco sat down in his chair with Samson draped over his feet. ‘I’m sorry that I wasn’t here to welcome you, Eunice,’ he observed pleasantly. ‘But I’m sure Charity and the children looked after you well.’
Eunice arranged one long leg over the other. ‘I was so disappointed. And now Charity tells me that I can only stay for a couple of days because your family are coming to stay here for your birthday.’
If Tyco was surprised at this interesting bit of news he concealed it very well. His placid expression didn’t alter one jot and nor did he look at Charity, who had gone a little pale because she had forgotten to tell him what she had said.
‘I have a large family. I expect Charity told you; I have nephews and nieces as well with their nannies—the house will be packed to the roof.’
‘If they stay only for one night…’ began Eunice.
‘A week at least,’ went on Tyco, thoroughly enjoying himself. ‘Most of them come from Friesland and it’s a splendid chance for us to meet and exchange news.’
‘Well, you must take me out this evening and tomorrow as well. I want to go to a night-club—I’ve a gorgeous dress I’m dying to wear.’
‘Most inviting. I’ll see if I can hunt up a fourth.’
‘I meant just us two,’ coaxed Eunice. ‘Charity won’t mind, will you?’ She barely glanced at her. ‘There’s a marvellous disco, the Mazzo—can we go there?’
‘We can, but we won’t,’ said Tyco calmly. ‘We might dine out this evening…’ he looked at Charity ‘…if you can arrange things with Mrs Jolly, my dear? We’ll go to d’Viff Vlieghen.’
With that Eunice had to be content.
He got up. ‘There are a couple of phone calls I must make. Ask Jolly to come to the study, will you, Charity?’
He wandered off and presently Jolly knocked on the study door.
Tyco looked up from his desk. ‘Ah, yes, Jolly. We have a little problem.’
He explained about the mythical visitors and added, ‘Be sure and tell Mrs Jolly and Nel; we mustn’t let mevrouw down.’
‘Leave it to me, Professor,’ said Jolly, and made his stately way to the kitchen where he laid down the law, exclaiming that he for one would be glad to see the back of the young lady. ‘Making eyes at the professor,’ he said darkly, ‘and mevrouw such a sweet lady too.’
It wasn’t until Tyco had gone to fetch the children that Charity was struck by the thought that if Eunice should mention the expected visitors they might give the game away. She sat with her ears stretched to hear the return of the car and hurried into the hall as they all came in.
Tyco took a look at her worried face. ‘Don’t panic,’ he said placidly. ‘They know, and Jolly has dealt with the staff.’
Charity let out a great breath. ‘Oh, thank you—it was silly of me.’
He flung a comforting arm around her. ‘Don’t worry, and the children are delighted.’ He kissed her slowly. ‘You really are a most resourceful girl.’
That night, as she got ready for bed, Charity reflected upon the day. It had gone well, she considered; Tyco had been at his most amiable, the perfect host, and the children had been angels. She had had difficulty in not giggling when Mrs Jolly had come to ask her if she should see about getting the bedrooms ready for the influx of guests. ‘Perhaps we should meet after breakfast tomorrow and approve the menus, mevrouw.’ She had agreed gravely, conscious of Tyco’s eyes on he
r. She wondered uneasily if she should have invited Eunice to stay for as long as she wished and dismissed the thought; she was already making a play for Tyco and she was very lovely too in an amusing and outrageous fashion.
The evening had been a success though. D’Viff Vlieghen was an ancient warren of rooms housed in five typical Dutch houses. The food had been good and it was packed with diners, most of them foreign and for the most part noisy. She suspected that Tyco would have preferred somewhere quieter but it pleased their guest and that was more important, she supposed. Eunice had bubbled over with delight, aware of the admiring glances in her direction. She had looked quite beautiful in a vivid green dress, her hair brushed into a golden cloud. Charity had known better than to try and compete; she had worn the grey dress, comforted by Tyco’s, ‘You look very nice, my dear.’
She got up the next morning with a shamefaced relief that in one more day Eunice would be gone. They would go shopping in the morning, she decided, and probably Tyco would take them out in the evening. Light of heart, she skipped along to the children’s room.
Teile was dressed but Letizia was curled up in bed with a flushed face and heavy eyes. Charity sat down on her bed and took the little hand in hers. ‘Darling, what’s up? You should have called me…’
‘She’s got a sore throat,’ said Teile. ‘We didn’t want to disturb you.’
‘I’ll fetch your papa. You stay here, love, and if you’re dressed and ready, Teile, go down to breakfast, will you? I’ll be down presently. I expect it’s just a cold.’
Tyco, when he had examined his small daughter, agreed. ‘A day in bed, I think, don’t you, Charity? I will leave a little later and take Teile to school and Nel can fetch her at noon.’
Which left a grumpy Eunice to take herself off to the shops. She came back for lunch with several dress boxes and made no bones about her disappointment that Tyco wasn’t home to admire the contents. She spent the afternoon by the drawing-room fire and was in the hall to greet Tyco when he got home after tea.
He bade her a cheerful hello and went straight upstairs to the children’s room where Charity was perched beside Letizia, drawing plans for another dolls’ house. Teile was in the schoolroom doing her homework and they were calling to and fro through the open doors. He looked at Charity as he went in; she was untidy, she had kicked off her shoes and her small nose shone, and he smiled a little at the sight of her, his eyes gleaming beneath their lids. As she looked up all he said was, ‘Hello. I sneaked home early; how has the day been?’
Letizia had her voice back. ‘I’m almost well. Charity says I’ll be quite well in two more days. Can Teile come and see me?’
‘As long as she doesn’t get too close, liefje. What are you making?’
He sat down on the bed and examined the house, in no hurry to go, and Charity, conscious of her untidy appearance, said, ‘Well, if you’re going to be here for a few minutes I’ll go and tidy myself.’
‘I quite like you as you are,’ said Tyco, ‘but don’t be long, we shall miss you.’
When she got back Tyco said, ‘Eunice wants to go to a night-club—shall you like that?’
‘I don’t know, I’ve never been to one—’
Letizia’s hand shot out and grabbed her arm. ‘Don’t go out, Charity, please—stay with me. I feel better when you’re here.’
‘Then I’ll stay.’ She spoke promptly before Tyco could say anything.
‘Papa can take Eunice out—it’s her last evening you see and so she must have a treat.’
‘You don’t mind?’ enquired Tyco mildly.
‘Mind? Of course not.’ She spoke so heartily that it didn’t sound true, which it wasn’t anyway; she minded very much but he must never guess that she was seething with jealousy and hopeless love.
He eyed her narrowly, ‘Good—then I’ll take her to the Carousel—we’d better eat out too. Oh, de Silveren Speigel might suit her taste. Plenty of smart people go there; she’ll be able to show off her pretty clothes.’
‘She’ll love that,’ said Charity through clenched teeth. ‘Do go and tell her while I get this poppet comfortable and make sure Teile has done her homework.’
‘Quite the little mother,’ sighed Tyco softly.
‘Isn’t that what you wanted?’
The children in bed, she took time to change her dress and went downstairs in time to see Tyco helping Eunice into a velvet cape. She looked ravishing; there was a glint of scarlet from beneath its folds and she was wearing scarlet slippers. It was Tyco she looked at, though; immaculate in a dinner-jacket, laughing at something Eunice had said. He looked up and saw her and said, ‘We’re just off, my dear. Don’t wait up, you’ve had a trying day.’
She smiled sweetly and agreed silently. ‘Have a lovely time, both of you.’ Her voice was as sweet as her smile.
She ate her solitary dinner and read for an hour or so before she went upstairs to her room. A long bath took up another hour but it was still barely eleven o’clock. The children were asleep and she could hear Jolly going around locking up. Presently the house was quiet. She put on her dressing-gown and pattered soundlessly downstairs to make a pot of tea and sit at the kitchen table drinking it. She couldn’t spend the night there, so she went back to her room and roamed around, picking up ornaments and putting them down again. The little carriage clock on the mantelshelf had struck one o’clock before she heard the whisper of the car and a moment later the gentle sound of the great front door being closed. Curiosity got the better of good sense; she opened the door a crack. They were still in the hall; she could hear the murmur of their voices and presently Eunice’s giggle and then her voice, quite light and clear. ‘Darling, it was heaven—has Charity any idea of what fun you are on an evening out? We must do this again some time. Now shall we say goodnight properly?’
Charity was shaking with rage, so that shutting the door was difficult, but she managed it and stood leaning against it. She had never felt so awful in all her life, and the pity of it was that there was no need for her unhappiness; Eunice had seen the thread of light from her room on the gallery wall and had raised her voice deliberately, talking to Tyco’s broad back while he read the messages on the hall table, taking no notice of her at all.
CHAPTER NINE
TYCO wasn’t at breakfast; Charity was glad that she didn’t have to face him. He had been called away early, Jolly told her—four o’clock in the morning. ‘And him with barely three hours’ sleep,’ said his faithful servant.
Charity took Teile to school, leaving Letizia in Nel’s kindly hands, and when she got back it was just in time to see Eunice coming, yawning, down the stairs.
‘Oh, lord, I could sleep for a week. I got Mrs Jolly to bring me some breakfast in bed—old crosspatch she is too, even though I couldn’t understand half she said.’
‘Mrs Jolly is our housekeeper, and she has a lot to do for the weekend. She doesn’t expect to wait on our guests.’
‘Oh, dear, we are high and mighty, aren’t we? Well, don’t let being Mevrouw van der Brons go to your head. You’re nothing but a glorified governess and housekeeper yourself. Tyco must find that you’re a dead bore. And the way you suck up to the children…’ She gave a snigger. ‘Tyco is going over to England, did you know? I thought not. He’ll come and see me—I’ve been lent a friend’s flat. We’ll go out on the town while you’re queening it h
ere with those brats and the housekeeping.’ She danced a few steps. ‘I told you I’d annex him, didn’t I?’
Charity went past her and tugged the old-fashioned bell pull in the drawing-room, and when Jolly came she asked, ‘At what time did the professor arrange for you to drive Miss Pearson to Schiphol?’
‘Her flight leaves at half-past one, mevrouw; we ought to leave here soon after noon.’
‘Miss Pearson will be leaving as soon as her luggage can be brought down,’ said Charity. ‘About half an hour—if you would have the car ready by then, please, Jolly.’
‘Certainly, mevrouw.’ Jolly went back to the kitchen to regale his wife with the latest developments. ‘I said that young woman would be a mischief-maker—you mark my words, there’ll be ructions…’
Eunice said sulkily. ‘I’ve not packed—’
‘Then you had better go and do it now.’
Eunice started back up the stairs. ‘You’re green with envy,’ she said, ‘not that it matters. I know just how to handle Tyco—all men are alike, only you wouldn’t know that, would you? I’ll bet a year’s fees that he leaves you inside a year—with the kids of course, knowing that they’ll be looked after by you while he enjoys life. You told me he loves his work, but he can be a successful surgeon anywhere in the world.’ She tossed her head. ‘To have tied himself down to you must be one of the few mistakes he has made. Ah, well, you will have had a couple of months with your head in the clouds.’
Charity was standing very still; she might indeed have been carved in stone. Now she said briskly, ‘Do go and pack, Eunice,’ and then turned on her heel and went into the drawing-room where she stayed until her stepsister came down again.
Eunice said, ‘Well, I’m ready to go—a pity about Tyco’s family, we were just getting to know each other really well. Still, we can go on from where we left off when he comes to London. I’ve a boring job there—photos—and then I shall be at a loose end.’
Charity put down the knitting she had been mangling. ‘Not for long, I feel sure. You’ve never liked me and always despised me, haven’t you, Eunice? I would be lying if I said that I was sorry to see you go; all the same I hope you have a good flight back. Goodbye.’