An Old-Fashioned Girl

by Betty Neels

  Patience picked her up. ‘Darling, Pretty has to have her tea and go to bed just as you do. You shall come again very soon and Uncle Julius will let you ride her.’ All this in English, which, strangely enough, Rosie had no difficulty in understanding.

  ‘The pity of it is,’ Uncle Julius observed, ‘that I am going back to England tomorrow.’

  Patience spun round, clutching Rosie. ‘Tomorrow? But I thought you’d be here for—it’s only a week…’

  He stood looking down at her. ‘Well, well—and will you mind if I am not here, Patience?’

  ‘No. No, of course not, why should I?’ She refused to look at him. ‘You were going to tell me about Dobbs and his brother.’

  He accepted the change of subject with apparent unconcern. ‘So I was. A simple story really. I had an English grandmother who left me the house in Chiswick. Dobbs had been her chauffeur for years and I took him on with the house. Miss Murch joined us in answer to my advertisement and they deal excellently with each other. Mr father’s manservant died shortly after him and since Dobbs had a brother looking for work in England I took him on here. He fell in love with my cook—an admirable state of affairs, you must admit.’

  ‘What will Dobbs do if you come to live here?’

  ‘I hope he will marry Miss Murch; their romance has been blossoming for some years now. They can stay on as caretakers. I never know when I may have to go to England and I have friends there.’

  She knew nothing about him, she reflected as they walked slowly back to the house. She knew where he lived and what he did but she was no nearer to knowing him as a person: what he thought, what he wanted from his life, whether he was loved—and then there was his habit of never mentioning his plans until the last minute…not that it was any of her business, she reminded herself honestly. It seemed likely that she wouldn’t see him again. He wouldn’t be going back to Themelswick now that the book was finished and there would be no Rosie for her to mind in Chiswick. She would return to England when she was no longer needed by the ter Kattes and make her way back to the aunts.

  ‘You’re very deep in thought,’ remarked Julius as they reached the house. ‘You need a cup of tea to revive you. We’ll have it in the drawing-room. You take Rosie and tidy her up and I’ll dry off the dogs.’

  They had gone in through the side-door again and he turned away to one of the rooms behind the kitchen, the dogs at his heels, while she went through to the hall and into the cloakroom, where she washed Rosie’s tear-stained face, combed her fair hair and then did her own face, pushing her hair back ruthlessly from her face. It did not matter, she told herself bitterly, what she looked like. Her lack of looks seemed worse than ever since she had met Mevrouw van Teule, and the sooner she stopped mooning over Julius van der Beek, the better. A resolution that she carried out with such strictness that he decided that it would be the wrong moment to suggest, with a suitable vagueness, some tentative ideas as to her future.

  He betrayed none of these thoughts during tea, a meal designed to please little Rosie although there were sandwiches for the grown-ups and a large fruit cake also. One of Miss Murch’s recipes, confided Dobbs, sent to his wife so that Mr van der Beek would be able to enjoy it. He was partial to cake, added Dobbs sotto voce.

  Presently Rosie was borne away by her uncle to say goodbye to Mrs Dobbs in her kitchen, leaving Patience free to look around her. It struck her then more forcibly than ever that Mr van der Beek was a man of wealth. Another good reason why she should forget him as quickly as possible.

  Rosie sat on Patience’s lap as they drove back to den Haag, half asleep, rousing from time to time to chatter about her day, but Mr van der Beek had nothing to say and nor did Patience save for soft murmuring replies to Rosie. Once at the house, he didn’t linger. Patience had taken Rosie straight upstairs after greeting her mother and father, to take off her jacket before carrying her down again to say goodnight before her supper. Julius was on the point of going, standing talking to his sister and Rinus in the hall, but he glanced up as she reached the bottom of the staircase and crossed over the hall to stand before her.

  ‘A lovely day,’ he said softly and bent to kiss his niece, and then very deliberately kissed Patience. No one had kissed her like that before; indeed she had seldom been kissed—quick pecks on a cheek which had meant nothing either to her or the pecker—but Julius’s kiss was something different; rather like an electric shock, she thought bemusedly. Of course he must have had a lot of practice with beautiful creatures like Sylvia van Teule, who would have known how to accept it gracefully. It was regrettable that she just stood there, gazing up into his face, with her mouth slightly open. It would have helped if he had tossed some light-hearted remark at her, she thought crossly; as it was he looked at her for a long moment and went back to his sister and then, within moments, had gone out of the house. He hadn’t even said goodbye.

  She presented Rosie for goodnight hugs and kisses and went back upstairs to put her to bed the moment she had had her supper. ‘Sing,’ demanded Rosie, warm and fragrant from her bath, tucked into her bed. So Patience sang, her voice rather wobbly because she wanted very much to have a good cry.

  ‘Such a pity,’ observed Marijke at dinner, ‘that Julius has to return—he planned to stay for several more days. I wonder why he decided to return to Chiswick. Did you have a pleasant day, Patience? There was almost no time to talk of it. There is a new donkey, is there not? Did Rosie like that?’

  ‘Oh, very much, she wasn’t in the least bit afraid; indeed she cried a good deal when we went back to the house.’

  ‘She was good with her dinner? She ate everything and behaved nicely?’

  ‘Yes. She was a very good girl.’

  ‘Just the three of you?’

  ‘Well, no. A Mevrouw van Teule called and she stayed to lunch.’

  ‘Sylvia van Teule. She has—how do you say?—the claws in Julius—a widow and really most anxious to marry again. Rosie does not like her; she was not rude?’

  ‘No, no.’

  ‘Bah!’ said Marijke with some force. ‘She does not like little children but she is very beautiful and chic.’

  Patience agreed in her pleasant voice, wishing uncharitably that Mevrouw van Teule would come out in spots or develop a squint. Not that it mattered any more. Julius had gone and his future held no interest for her.

  Julius wasn’t mentioned at all during the next few days; Patience put him out of her mind—only he kept popping back in—and concentrated on being a good nanny. She had grown very fond of Rosie and she liked the ter Kattes and although she didn’t have much time to herself she found herself with a whole day off on her own while they took Rosie to Utrecht to see Rinus’s parents. She had money in her purse and it was a fine day; she bade Juffrouw Witte goodbye for the moment and took a tram to the shops. This might be her only chance of buying presents for the aunts and something suitable for Mrs Dodge and perhaps Miss Murch. She had been told about the Bijenkorf and she spent a delightful hour there, roaming round the various counters, choosing scarves for the aunts, a Delft blue model windmill for Mrs Dodge, who liked ornaments on the mantelpiece, and, upon reflection, a bottle of Boldoot eau-de-cologne for Miss Murch. She stopped for coffee too, taking her time over it since she had all day, and presently she wandered down one of the arcades to study the expensive clothes in the smart boutiques. She was admiring an evening gown in one window when the shop door opened and Mevrouw van Teule came out. She stopped when she saw Patience and then smiled.

  ‘The little mother’s help,’ she said gaily. ‘You have a day off?’ Her eye took in the parcels from the Bijenkorf as the smile became scornful. ‘You have done your shopping? Little gifts to take home perhaps? It is a good shop for such things, especially if one has not got too much money.’

  She paused. ‘You have half an hour to spare? Will you come and have coffee with me? I am tir
ed after a dress fitting and need to rest for a while. There is a coffee-shop close by…’

  It was difficult to refuse without being rude. Patience went with her to the end of the arcade at which there was an elegant tea shop where they sat down at a table in a room all pink lampshades and elaborate curtains and an ankle-deep carpet and haughty waitresses.

  Mevrouw van Teule ordered coffee. ‘You will have a cake? I do not dare.’ Her smile was faintly malicious. ‘But for you it will not matter; you have no shape.’ She glanced down at her own generous curves and Patience, whose shape was a quite charming one, said cheerfully,

  ‘Well, I don’t need to diet, but I won’t have a cake, thank you.’

  She drank her coffee with whipped cream and plenty of sugar and felt sorry for her companion, sipping black coffee without much pleasure.

  ‘How did you come to know Mr van der Beek?’ asked Mevrouw van Teule. ‘Perhaps through his sister who employs you?’

  ‘No, I worked for him in England.’

  Mevrouw van Teule opened her eyes wide. ‘Really? He didn’t tell me—in his household, perhaps?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Her companion nodded. ‘Of course! It was through him you became employed by Marijke ter Katte.’ She smiled sweetly. ‘I shall hear all about you when he returns. He does not like to be away from me for too long. It will be easier for both of us when he returns to live here in Holland. I dislike the journey to England and I do not much care for London, although some of the dress shops are excellent and your Harrods is a splendid place. I dare say you don’t shop there?’

  ‘No, I don’t.’ Patience spoke quietly, wondering how she could get away from the woman. She allowed her eyes to stray to the clock on the café wall and said, ‘My goodness, is that the time? I promised Juffrouw Witte that I would be back for lunch. I catch a tram from the end of Lange Vooruit.’ She managed a smile. ‘Thank you for the coffee, it was delicious.’

  ‘Run along,’ said Mevrouw van Teule in a patronising voice which set Patience’s teeth on edge. ‘It was so nice meeting you. I must tell Julius—Mr van der Beek.’

  Patience went, conscious of the woman’s eyes on her, pricing her clothes, having scathing thoughts about her make-up and hair. Well, I don’t care, she thought, hurrying in the direction of the tram although she had no intention of catching it, Only I wish she hadn’t said all that about Julius. They must know each other very well and he’s coming back to see her. Did he really not like to be away from her? she wondered. It had been impossible to guess at his feelings that afternoon at Rijnsten; she had always found it difficult to know what he was thinking behind that bland face. They had, after all, been alone for ten minutes or more while she was with Rosie—time enough to make plans…

  Sufficiently far away from the arcades, she spent a blissful hour in the Mauritshuis, gazing her fill of Rembrandts, Vermeers and a host of famous Dutch painters. She was too absorbed to remember to have lunch but the tea Juffrouw Witte had ready for her more than made up for that.

  Being in love, she should have been pining and off her food, she reflected, making short work of sandwiches, buttered toast and delicious little scones and cakes. Perhaps she wasn’t in love, only infatuated. Only she knew that wasn’t true.

  It was a good thing that the ter Kattes and Rosie came home then, for she was fast falling into the dumps.

  Several days later Mevrouw ter Katte came out of the drawing-room as Patience was taking Rosie upstairs after their morning outing. ‘Patience, will you let Juffrouw Witte have Rosie for a little while? I wish to talk to you. It is still too early for her dinner and she can go to the kitchen off Juffrouw Witte’s room.’

  Patience came downstairs again. ‘Very well, mevrouw, but Rosie needs one or two things done first. Shall I see to that and bring her down again—about five minutes?’

  ‘Yes, yes, of course. Come into the drawing-room when you’re ready.’

  Nanny is coming back, reflected Patience, unbuttoning Rosie’s outdoor garments, changing her small shoes and combing her hair. She smoothed her own tidy head, bore Rosie down to the kitchen and went back to the drawing-room.

  Mevrouw ter Katte patted the sofa beside her. ‘Ah, Patience. Rinus has been to the hospital and seen Nanny and has also talked to the doctors—she went there to have a complete check-up before she starts work again and she has been pronounced quite fit. She will come back here—let me see—it is Tuesday today, she will be back on Friday. Would you like to go back to England on Saturday? Rinus will arrange your tickets.’

  ‘I’m glad Nanny is quite better; Rosie will be glad to see her again. Would it not be a good idea if I were to go back on Friday before Nanny comes? I’d love to meet her but I do wonder if it would be easier for Rosie to understand if we just exchange places, as it were; if she wonders where I am she will have Nanny to comfort her and explain—anyway she hasn’t known me long and she will forget me quickly. May I tell her that Nanny is coming back?’

  ‘Will she understand?’

  ‘Oh, yes, we understand each other very well in a basic kind of way.’ She smiled at Mevrouw ter Katte, who was looking uneasy. ‘I’ve very much enjoyed looking after Rosie, but I knew it was temporary when I said I’d help out.’

  ‘You do not feel,’ Mevrouw ter Katte sought for a word, ‘cast out?’

  ‘Certainly not. I must go home to my aunts and get them settled again.’

  She saw the relief on her companion’s face. ‘We have enjoyed your stay here, Patience, and we are very grateful, and I think that it is a good idea that you should return to England before Nanny comes back, for Rosie’s sake. She is fond of you.’

  ‘Yes, but she’s fond of Nanny, as I said; she will be very happy to see her again.’

  ‘And you, you will find more work?’

  ‘Well, not at once—I’ve been living with my great-aunts for some time now and I see to the house and so on; for a time at least I won’t have the opportunity to look for a job.’

  ‘Your aunts are at the house Julius rented, are they not?’

  ‘When I go back they will leave there. Miss Murch will go back to Chiswick and I expect that the house will go on the market again as soon as the six months are up.’

  ‘That is most satisfactory,’ said Mevrouw ter Katte, glad to have the matter settled, ‘and now I will not keep you any longer. I’m sure Rosie wishes for her dinner. It will be very nice when the baby is here and I feel well enough to do more. I am not usually like this.’

  ‘Well, it is only a few more weeks, isn’t it? I expect you hope for a son.’

  ‘Indeed we do. If you ever return to Holland, Patience, you must come and see us.’

  ‘I should like that,’ said Patience cheerfully, knowing that her chances of coming were slim. ‘I’ll go and get Rosie, shall I?’

  Mevrouw ter Katte nodded, ‘Rinus will let you know about your tickets and the times of the ferry and the train. Would you ask Juffrouw Witte to come here, please? We must arrange for Nanny’s return.’

  With Rosie tucked up in bed and asleep that night, Patience went to her room and sat down to think. She would have to pack within the next day or so; that would be easy enough for she had bought very little while she had been in den Haag. She would have to write to the aunts and post the letter in the morning. Telephoning them was of little use, for they disliked the instrument and they were deaf. She hoped that Miss Murch wouldn’t mind them staying one more night while she opened up the terraced house and did some shopping; she would have to make a list. And money—she got her handbag and counted its contents. She wasn’t sure if she was expected to pay her fare back and she hadn’t liked to ask, but, even if that were the case, she still had a respectable sum saved. She found pen and paper and began on the task of arranging her finances so that they could live without worry until the house was sold or let once more. />
  Friday came. She was to leave in the morning. Mijnheer ter Katte had decided that it would be easier for her if she went back by plane and had booked her a seat on a late morning flight. That way, he explained kindly, she would be able to reach her home sometime during the afternoon. He himself would drive her to Schiphol and see her safely on board. He had given her an envelope with her ticket and when she opened it there was money inside, enough to pay for her train fare to Norfolk and the journey into London from Heathrow. ‘I do not like you to be alone in London,’ said Rinus gravely, ‘so you will please take a taxi and when you arrive home will you telephone us?’

  She was touched by his thoughtfulness. ‘Yes, of course I will, and I’ll take a taxi too. I shall be home about teatime.’ She went away to pack the last of her belongings and peer inside the small package Mevrouw ter Katte had given her. A locket on a gold chain and inside the locket a coloured photo of Rosie. Patience felt like crying but there wasn’t time; she went back downstairs where everyone was assembled to wish her goodbye and contrived very nicely to smile and shake hands and hug Rosie who, cheerfully unaware of what was happening, kissed her with a good deal of giggling.

  ‘Oh, you must come again, Patience,’ said Mevrouw ter Katte, kissing her too.

  ‘That would be nice,’ said Patience inadequately. ‘Perhaps I shall one day.’

  They didn’t have to wait too long at Schiphol; she bade goodbye to Mijnheer ter Katte and went away towards Customs, not looking back, because she knew that looking back got you nowhere. She drank the coffee she was offered on board, read the leaflets from cover to cover and took care not to look out of the window at a fast-receding Holland. She wouldn’t see it again, and since Julius was going to live there she wouldn’t see him again either.

  Her case was one of the first on the carousel and Customs merely nodded her through. She emerged into the vast crowded reception area and the first person she saw was Mr van der Beek.