‘Don’t let him talk, he is still too weak,’ the other man said.
A lot of people came up and stood round them.
‘You come with me,’ the man said. ‘We’ve prepared a room for you. We’ll go there now and you can wait in it for the others. There were four other people on the roof with you, weren’t there?”
Kees nodded. He tried to walk but, as he took his first step, he nearly fell flat on his face. It was just as if his legs were two lumps of wood.
‘Poor boy,’ a woman said. She stepped out from the crowd and put her arm under Kees’s shoulder. ‘If you’ll hold the other arm, Mr. Mayor, he’ll be all right,’ she said.
So that gentleman is the mayor, Kees thought. ‘Sjaantje is very sick,’ he told them. Then he staggered along between the mayor and the strange lady. The crowd parted to make room for them and then followed behind. Kees heard them making sympathetic remarks. Suddenly, a boy came running up. He caught hold of Kees’s arm and called out joyfully, ‘Kees!’
Kees looked up. It was Geurt Adriaanse. ‘Oh, hallo, Geurt,’ he whispered. He tried to laugh but his chin began to tremble and suddenly tears were streaming down his cheeks. I’m crying again, he said to himself. But he didn’t mind now, even though Geurt and all these other people were watching.
‘Oh, Kees,’ Geurt said, ‘we were all so...’ but he stopped short as he noticed how exhausted poor Kees was looking. He had wanted to tell him how worried the villagers had been about them and all the other people on the polder farms, but he saw that he mustn’t talk too much now. He looked at his friend and was overjoyed to have him there beside him. There had been rumours in the village that everybody on Sunset Farm had been killed by the flood.
Geurt walked on beside Kees without saying another word. Now and then he would glance at Kees to make quite sure he was still there. Then he ran up to the man who was carrying Sjaantje and asked, ‘Is she sick?’
‘She seems to be running a very high temperature. I don’t think she is asleep: I believe she has fainted, poor child. Is she related to you?’
Geurt shook his head.
At the edge of the football ground a car was waiting for them.
‘Get in, my boy,’ the mayor said. ‘I’m going to drive you to your temporary home.’ Kees had great difficulty in getting into the car by himself, but the lady who had been supporting him, helped him along. When Kees was finally seated, the mayor pointed at Geurt.
‘Is he a friend of yours?’ he asked.
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Do you want him to come along?’
Kees nodded and the mayor could see how pleased he was at the suggestion.
‘Well, come in and join us,’ the mayor said to Geurt.
The man who was carrying Sjaantje sat down next to Kees. They they drove off. It took them two minutes to get to the middle of the village. The car stopped in front of a small shop in the square. The sign over it read: ‘J. Lauwerse, Baker’.
The baker came running out of the shop even before the door of the car opened. He was wearing a white cap and a white apron.
‘I have a couple of homeless children for you, Lauwerse,’ the mayor said. ‘They are from Sunset Farm, Mr. Wielemaker’s children. The rest of the family are being fetched now.’
‘Come in, do come in,’ the baker said. ‘I wonder where my wife has got to. Oh, there she is.’
‘Oh, you poor child,’ she said, as she stepped into the street. She took Sjaantje off the man who had brought her. Kees was standing by the car, pale and trembling.
‘What a terrible time you must have had, you poor children! Come in quickly. My goodness, how tired and worn out you look. Is the little girl sick?’
Kees nodded. The baker helped him into the house.
As the warmth from the stove hit Kees, everything round him began to spin round, and then, quite suddenly, he passed out.
When Kees came to again, he had no idea where he was.
He lay in bed in a room with the doors half open. Next door, he could hear people talking. There was a strange smell round him which nearly made him sick. It was the smell of fresh bread, just being taken out of the oven. And then he realized that he was in the baker’s house, in Market Square in Duivenisse.
As he lay still on his back, the whole horror of the last forty-eight hours flashed through his mind. Then a head peered round the door. It was his friend, Geurt.
‘Hallo,’ Geurt said. ‘How are you?’
‘Fine,’ Kees replied with a weak grin. His chin was no longer trembling and he no longer felt like crying. ‘I can laugh again,’ he thought. Then he asked, ‘Where are the others? Father, Mother, Jacob and Trui? And where are Bob and Miesje?’
Geurt smiled back at him. ‘You’ll have to be patient. After all, you’ve only been here a quarter of an hour.’
Meanwhile the baker had come in, followed by his wife.
‘I hope all this talking isn’t going to be too much for you,’ she said. But one look at Kees showed her that it was all right. ‘Here, drink that up,’ she ordered and handed Kees a mug of hot milk. Although his hands were still trembling, he insisted on holding the mug by himself.
Geurt now told him about his own experiences. It had all started with the church bells beginning to ring on Saturday night. Everybody had got out of bed, including Geurt. The first evacuees had reached Duivenisse not very much later. They came from Zeedorp, which was many feet below sea-level, and from the polders near by.
They had all been received with open arms. It was very lucky that the flood had spared Duivenisse. Everybody had worried about the other people isolated in the low-lying areas. It had been impossible to drive out there on Sunday; the storm had been too violent. One person had tried, but he nearly lost his life. Help had come from all over the country as early as Sunday afternoon, and since this morning aeroplanes and helicopters had been searching for those who had stayed behind and couldn’t get away. Then Kees asked Geurt whether he had any news of their teacher, Mr. Buis.
Geurt looked very sad.
He told Kees that Mr. Buis had ridden out to an isolated farmstead on Saturday night. Nobody knew exactly what had happened, but the flood must have overtaken him, cutting off his retreat. A few hours ago they had found his body washed up by the Wierhuizen Dike, normally half an hour’s walk from Duivenisse.
Kees remembered how Mr. Buis had looked when he had last called on them. He could still see his jolly face under his leather cap, as clearly as if he were in the room with them now. He had cheered them all up that evening, even though he must have been terribly worried himself. Kees remembered his rolling a cigarette with Jacob’s tobacco and then, just a few hours later, he must have drowned.
For quite some time, neither of them said anything. They were both thinking of their teacher of whom they had all been so fond. He had been killed while trying to help his fellow-men. Kees now understood for the first time what it really meant to love your neighbour.
‘I’m getting up,’ he said suddenly. He felt he did not want to be cooped up in bed any longer. It was only then that he noticed he had been put into bed fully dressed.
Kees was given a comfortable chair by the stove. Geurt stayed with him for a little while longer. Sjaantje was in bed; she was tossing about in her sleep. The baker had gone back to the bake-house and his wife was serving the shop.
Kees told Geurt about Witje. But, compared with what had happened to Mr. Buis, it didn’t seem so terrible now. He learnt that, in Groendorp, nearly all the houses had been washed away and hundreds of people had been drowned. Geurt could not tell how many animals had perished but there must have been thousands of them. In a few places by the old sea-wall, the water had risen several yards within a few minutes.
As they were talking, Kees looked out of the window and saw the mayor’s car draw up in front of the baker’s shop again. Although his legs still hurt, he managed to jump up and ran through the shop to the front door.
People were helping his mother out of the car. Kees
was frightened because she could not walk. She had to be carried in.
‘She’ll be all right again soon,’ the mayor reassured him. Trui came out supported by two men. She noticed Kees and gave him a wan smile.
Suddenly, the sound of barking was heard. Bob flew out of the car, slipped through the bystanders, and jumped up at his master. ‘My poor doggy,’ Kees said. He kept stroking him and then put his arms round him, while Bob was allowed to lick his face.
A faint ‘miaow’ came from inside the car. A lady said, ‘There’s a cat in there.’ A boy fetched Miesje and handed her to Kees. She miaowed again and arched her back as Bob came up to her in great excitement, and tried to lick her, too.
Just as Kees was about to get back into the house, the doctor arrived to see to Mrs. Wielemaker and Sjaantje.
‘I think your mother is just suffering from shock,’ the mayor told Kees. ‘She needs a lot of rest and that’s why they are taking her up to Mr. and Mrs. Lauwerse’s bedroom. Incidentally, we have two helicopters now, an American one has come to help us. One of them brought your mother and the other one brought your maid. They have gone back now to fetch your father and the farmhand.’
Half an hour later Mr. Wielemaker and Jacob arrived in the car. Jacob was carrying their improvised provision box. ‘There is quite a lot left to eat,’ he said. Kees noticed that they still walked very stiffly. He himself could use his legs much better now.
Then they went and sat down in the Lauwerses’ sitting-room. Trui looked almost happy when she smelt coffee from the kitchen. ‘That’s just what I need,’ she said when Mrs. Lauwerse poured her a cup. She tried to get up to help her hostess serve, but dropped back helplessly into her armchair. ‘I am like an old woman,’ she said with a forced laugh.
Just then, there were two new arrivals: Farmer Sanders and his farmhand, Arie.
‘Trui, my love, you’re safe,’ Arie said, full of joy.
And all Trui could do was to sob.
Nobody minded Arie putting his arm round Trui and kissing her in front of everyone. ‘I was so worried about you,’ he said.
‘And wasn’t I about you!’ Trui answered, wiping her eyes.
Sanders shook hands all round and said: ‘Our thoughts were with you all the time. They came to warn us but we never believed it would be as bad as they said. So we stayed. It’s not so easy to leave your farm.’
‘That’s true,’ Mr. Wielemaker agreed.
‘Then some people from Zuiddorp came past and told us that it was now or never. We packed our things and got away just in time. Five minutes later, we should have...’
‘What about your livestock?’ Wielemaker asked.
‘I’ve lost it all. All drowned.’ For a moment there was an oppressive silence, for everybody knew what that meant to his livelihood.
Sanders went on: ‘I managed to open the shed doors, to cut them loose and to chase them out. But it was too late. I heard that you took yours up to the Blue Dike?
‘Yes.’
‘In that case, I’m afraid...’ He looked straight into his neighbour’s eyes. Mr. Wielemaker knew what Farmer Sanders meant.
The doctor came in and said, ‘Your wife will be back on her feet in another week. I’ve given her a thorough examination and there is no sign of any injury or of pneumonia, or anything like that. She is thoroughly exhausted, though, and needs a lot of rest. You must see that she gets it. It’ll be a few days before she can move at all. Your daughter has a bad attack of ‘flu but I’m hoping she’ll be all right in next to no time. I know what you’ve been through, but you have a great deal to be thankful for, all the same. Compared with others, you’ve been very lucky. Excuse me, but I must go now. I’ve got a good many calls to make.’
‘He is quite right,’ Sanders said. ‘We all have a lot to be grateful for. But it’s time Arie and I went, and you got some rest. I think it’s marvellous that you were able to hold out for so long.’
Within a quarter of an hour, they were all fast asleep. The baker’s wife stuffed a piece of paper into the shop bell. ‘So it won’t wake them,’ she explained.
CHAPTER ELEVEN — Kees meets his Queen
It was not till next morning that they all woke up from their deep sleep of exhaustion. Soon afterwards, Mr. Wielemaker, Jacob, Trui and Kees were sitting down to breakfast. They were all glad to be sitting at a real table again, even if it wasn’t their own.
Through the living-room window they could see the little churchyard, and the villagers walking and driving past. Everybody was very busy. Duivenisse had received the homeless with open arms and was doing all it could to make them feel at ease.
Mr. Wielemaker folded his hands. He had lost his home and his living at one fell swoop. He was grateful that they had all been saved, that his wife had had a good night’s rest, and that Sjaantje’s temperature had come down. Still...
There was a frown on his forehead as he drank his coffee out of a stranger’s cup and cut his bread with a stranger’s knife.
‘We must get back to the farm as soon as we can,’ he said.
‘Yes,’ Jacob agreed. ‘But it will take quite some time yet for the water to subside.’
Trui poured out some more coffee for the menfolk. The baker’s wife had gone out to the shop and had asked Trui to look after the guests for her. Trui was feeling better now that she was allowed to make coffee again. But she, too, longed to get back to Sunset Farm.
After breakfast, she told the two men and Kees to go out of the house. ‘I’ll help Mrs. Lauwerse,’ she said. ‘You’d better go for a stroll; otherwise, you’ll be in the way.’
Mr. Wielemaker’s instincts rebelled against the idea of going for a stroll in the middle of a working day. Why, ever since he was a lad, he had always been busy at the farm, always working with a will, and loving every moment of it. But he realized that there was nothing for it now. He and Jacob were both wearing the baker’s clothes; Mr. Lauwerse had lent his best jacket to Mr. Wielemaker and an older one to Jacob. The jackets did not fit very well—the baker was short and fat.
Mr. Wielemaker wore one of Mr. Lauwerse’s caps; that, too, was a poor fit.
As they went out, a helicopter flew over the village. Most of the villagers did not bother to look up; they had got quite used to helicopters flying about all day. The mayor drove past in his car. He seemed to be in a hurry. Was something special going on? Probably more homeless people, Kees decided. In a few minutes, the new arrivals would get out of the helicopter and the mayor would take them to their temporary hosts. As he strolled along with the two men, Kees glanced at the shop windows. His father and Jacob were walking alongside each other, without saying a word. Now and again, people recognized Mr. Wielemaker and said ‘Good morning’. Nobody stopped for a chat or to ask any questions. There were just short greetings, raised hands, and friendly nods.
The mayor was back again. He was on foot. A lady in a fur coat and muddy boots, with a scarf round her head, was with him. A policeman walked a few steps behind.
Probably the mayor’s wife, Kees thought.
They were quite close now, and Mr. Wielemaker raised his cap to the mayor. Kees saw that the mayor was telling the lady something, very quietly. Then he beckoned to the three of them.
‘Your Majesty, this is Mr. Wielemaker of Sunset Farm,’ he said. ‘His fields are flooded, he has lost all his livestock and some of his farm buildings have been washed away. But all the people on the farm have been saved, Ma’am.’
Kees felt his knees shaking. His blood was draining from his face and his heart hammered against his chest. Here he was, Kees Wielemaker, who had a complete album of pictures of the Royal Family in his desk at school, standing right next to the Queen of the Netherlands.
For that is who the lady really was. He recognized her friendly face and her kind eyes.
Kees just stared at her without noticing that his father had taken off his cap and was holding it in his hand. He didn’t notice Jacob, either, who had crushed his cigarette and dropped it to t
he ground. All he saw was her face, the face he would be able to pick out in a sea of faces.
Then the Queen spoke.
‘I can’t tell you how much I sympathise with you. I know what it must mean to you to have lost so much. But you still have your land left, and that is the important thing. I hope you will have the courage to rebuild your farm. We shall do our utmost to help you in your task.’
‘I shall do my best, my very best, Your Majesty,’ Mr. Wielemaker’s voice sounded hoarse as he said it. Kees could see that his father was moved, and that the Queen’s words had given him strength and courage.
The Queen smiled as she heard his reply.
‘Would you like to tell me how it all happened? Oh, do put your cap on.’
Mr. Wielemaker did so, very clumsily. He had to pull it right several times because it wasn’t his own cap and wouldn’t fit properly. Then he told the sad tale of that first terrible night.
The Queen nodded understandingly. Kees could see that she felt with them, that she shared the privations and the unhappiness of her people. He could feel a lump in his throat and the tears welling up. It wasn’t because of what Father was telling the Queen, it was because he could see how deeply she cared. It was a terrible responsibility to be Queen, Queen of the Netherlands, Kees thought. Now his father was telling her about the awful hours they had passed on the roof, and what a tower of strength Jacob had been to them all.
The Queen gave Jacob a friendly smile, while Jacob nervously shifted his weight from foot to foot.
Mr. Wielemaker went on to tell the Queen about his wife and about Sjaantje, both of whom were ill in bed. He told her how kindly they had been received by the baker and his wife, and how he longed to be back on his farm.
‘Yes,’ the Queen said softly. ‘You must go back as soon as you can.’ Then she looked at Kees.
‘Is that your son?’ she asked.
‘Yes, Your Majesty,’ he replied. ‘That’s my son, Kees, and when I am an old man, he is going to take over from me, aren’t you, Kees?’
Kees was completely tongue-tied and all he could do was nod emphatically. The Queen looked at him for a moment, and this confused him so much that he blushed scarlet. He would have liked to run away and, at the same time, he would also have liked to show the Queen how much he revered her.
The Tide in the Attic Page 9