by Betty Neels
He occupied rather too much of her thoughts during the next day too. It was only at the end of that day that she allowed herself to admit to disappointment—she had actually believed him when he had said that he wanted to see her again. She was, she told herself, getting soft in the head. With great difficulty she made herself think about something else, and went to sleep.
Leo telephoned the next day in the middle of lunch, so that Ignaas, serving the meal and going to answer the telephone, had first to tell Mevrouw Dieperink van Berhuys that the call was for Gemma from Mijnheer de Vos. He stood impassive while the information was translated for Gemma’s benefit, but as she made her excuses and left the table she caught him looking at her with a kind of fatherly concern. She liked Ignaas, but she had no time to think about him now. She picked up the receiver, aware of excitement, which was why her voice came out rather coldly in a bald ‘Hullo.’
‘Oh, she’s cross,’ said Leo’s soft voice. ‘Are they working you too hard? Ross is a slave-driver…’
Gemma wouldn’t have that. ‘He’s not—he’s kind and considerate and clever…’
‘And dull…I sometimes wonder if he has ever kissed a girl—his work is his life.’ And then, as though he sensed that he had offended her, he went on: ‘He’s a very clever man and highly esteemed in his world and I expect he’s kissed dozens of girls. Am I forgiven?’
Gemma smiled at the telephone. ‘Yes, of course, only please remember that I admire the professor very much.’
‘So do we all, darling. Are you free this evening?’
‘Well, I’m not sure—I suppose I could be if I asked. I haven’t had much time off so far, and Rienieta is better. I could leave her for an hour or so, I expect.’
He sounded amused. ‘Good. I’ll take you out to dine and dance.’
‘Won’t that make it a bit late?’
‘If I promise to bring you back on the stroke of midnight?’
‘Well, all right—but you’ll have to wait while I ask…’
Of course no one raised any objection, only her hostess looked faintly uneasy about it. But Gemma, on top of her little world, didn’t notice that. She promised to be ready at eight o’clock and went back to finish her lunch, and beyond a few polite comments on her chance to see a little of the social life outside the house, no one said anything.
A surprisingly acquiescent Rienieta made no bones about being readied for bed earlier than usual; Gemma had time to put on the pink crêpe dress her sisters had insisted that she should buy. Had they not said, half jokingly that she had to have a pretty dress just in case she met some gorgeous man? And she had. She took great pains with her plain little face, arranged her hair in its usual topknot and went downstairs a few minutes early. Mandy and Phil would have been shocked at that; they both believed in keeping a man waiting, but Gemma, unversed in female wiles, didn’t dare. She reached the last tread of the stair as the big door opened from outside and the professor came in. He closed it without haste, looking at her. ‘Very nice,’ he said at length. ‘Who’s the lucky man?’
‘Leo de Vos. He—he’s taking me out for an hour or two.’ She thought for a moment that he frowned, but the light in the hall was dim and when she looked more closely he was smiling faintly as he so often did. All the same she went on quite unnecessarily: ‘I met him when he came here the other day with Bart.’
The smile was still there, but he offered no comment, so she went on a little faster: ‘I don’t expect you know that Rienieta came down to tea the day before yesterday, and she’s been down each day since. Doctor Kasten is very pleased with her.’ She moved a little uneasily because his silence bothered her. ‘If you would rather that I stayed with her, I will—I don’t mind a bit…’
‘My dear Gemma,’ he sounded very amused, ‘of course you mind. Leo is a most amusing companion. I have no doubt that you will have a delightful evening.’ She thought he was going to say something else, but he lapsed into silence to break it presently with: ‘Have a nice time. I’m going up to see Rienieta.’
He crossed the hall and went past her and up the staircase, taking the broad, shallow steps two at a time. Gemma had the odd sensation that she had been deprived of something, although she had no idea what it might be—it was a vague, half-felt feeling and instantly dispelled by the imperious blast of a horn outside. Leo, for her, presumably.
The professor had been quite right; Leo was an amusing companion, and Gemma, simple in such matters, took his subtle compliments as gospel truth, and his sly innuendoes for the most part passed over her head. She saw no point in pretending that she wasn’t enjoying herself, because she was, very much—Leo had taken care of that; he had chosen to take her to the Princeville, a smart restaurant just south of Breda, and they had dined and danced and talked—not serious talk, Leo wasn’t any good at that, his conversation was gay and witty and amusing and sometimes malicious, but Gemma hardly noticed that. She basked in his admiration and felt for the first time in her life that perhaps she wasn’t quite as plain as she had supposed herself to be.
It never occurred to her that he found her amusingly unsophisticated, even at times a little dull; it certainly didn’t occur to her that he didn’t mean a word he said. She only knew that she had met someone who treated her like a queen, had even become, miraculously, attracted to her, and because she was honest herself she made no secret of her interest in him. All the same, she tried not to let him see it too much—indeed, when he reached out to take hold of her hand across the table, she withdrew it in a matter-of-fact way which nonplussed him for the minute. He changed his tactics then, telling her about Holland, making her laugh at the odd tales and legends he told with such ease, and he didn’t touch her again, not even when he drew up outside the door of Huis Berhuys and leant across to open the door for her. He didn’t get out, though, but wished her an airy goodnight and without another word about seeing her again, drove away. Gemma watched him go and shivered a little; perhaps she had imagined that he liked her…she got the key from her purse and was about to open the door when it was opened for her. The professor ushered her in, looking absentminded. He waved the book he held at her and murmured: ‘I was reading and heard the car. Didn’t Leo want to come in?’
She lifted a rather unhappy face to his. ‘I don’t know—I didn’t ask him. I think he was in a hurry to get home.’
Her companion nodded. ‘Probably. I hope you had a pleasant evening? Where did you go?’
She told him, still feeling not quite happy; she had been deposited at the door in a rather summary fashion, surely? Mandy and Phil, when they went out in the evening, were always ushered carefully in through their front door by their companions. Perhaps the Dutch had different views about such things. She frowned a little and the professor said comfortably: ‘Rienieta is sleeping soundly—so is everyone else. Come and share my coffee before you go to bed and you can tell me all about your evening.’ He smiled at her. ‘I’m not au fait with gay nights.’
Gemma preceded him across the hall and into the pleasant cosiness of the library. ‘Well, you ought to be,’ she said a trifle tartly. ‘There’s no reason why you shouldn’t be; you can take your pick of pretty girls and go where you like…’
‘Most girls look exactly alike to me,’ he confessed mildly, and pushed her gently into a chair. ‘Be mother and pour the coffee. Perhaps I’m getting too old.’
‘Don’t talk rubbish,’ she begged him. ‘You’re not in the least old.’
‘Thank you, Gemma.’ He settled his length in a chair close to hers. ‘I like four lumps, please.’
She handed him his cup and because the silence seemed a little long, asked: ‘Are you staying the night?’
‘Yes. I—er—missed an engagement this evening and it seemed more sensible to go back to Vianen in the morning.’ He leaned back, very much at his ease. ‘Did you dance?’
‘Oh, yes—Leo dances very well, you know, though I’m not so keen on this modern style.’
‘Ah—he’ll be
taking you again, I dare say.’
She gave him a rather bleak look. ‘I don’t know, he didn’t say.’
The professor’s eyes narrowed. ‘He will.’ He became all at once brisk. ‘Finished your coffee? Off to bed with you, then, and leave me in peace to finish this most interesting book.’ He got to his feet, his smile robbing the words of abruptness. ‘Dream of your splendid evening, Gemma. Goodnight.’
CHAPTER FIVE
GEMMA hadn’t expected to see the professor the next morning, but when she went along to Rienieta’s room there he was, sitting on the window seat with his feet up, listening with every sign of close interest to whatever it was that his sister was talking about so earnestly. She was speaking Dutch, but when she saw Gemma she switched at once to English. ‘Hullo, Gemma, I’m telling Ross that I’m quite well again…’
Gemma made some casual reply and wished the professor good morning, suppressing the strong suspicion that Rienieta hadn’t been talking about herself at all, but her nurse. The professor had got to his feet, given his sister a brotherly hug, nodded cheerfully to Gemma and wandered away.
The door had barely closed behind him when Rienieta burst out: ‘Well, did you have a lovely evening? Where did you go? What did you do? Did Leo admire your dress?’
‘He didn’t say,’ said Gemma lightly.
‘How horrid of him, for you looked very pretty. I should have been angry with him.’ She tossed 101 her pretty head and then smiled with great charm. ‘Shall I tell you a secret?’
She was like a pretty child with her beguiling ways. Gemma found herself returning the smile. ‘Well, no, love—if it’s a secret, it won’t be any longer if you tell it.’
The invalid frowned over this and then her brow cleared. ‘It’s not that kind of secret. Ross came to take you out yesterday, only he didn’t know about Leo calling for you—imagine, two dates in one evening!’ She giggled. ‘You must be very sexy, Gemma.’
Gemma said a little absently that no, she didn’t think she was, while she digested the news that the professor had come to take her out, and while she didn’t feel the same excitement that she had felt at Leo’s invitation, there was a pleasant glow inside her at the thought of it, dispelled at once by Rienieta saying airily: ‘I expect he thought he’d better keep you sweet—you haven’t had much time to yourself, have you? and you hadn’t been out at all. Perhaps he was afraid that you would be tired of the job.’
Perhaps he was. Gemma shook pills from a bottle. ‘No,’ she said quietly, ‘I’m not tired of the job, and I certainly don’t expect to be taken out just to keep me sweet.’
‘The trouble with you is that you’re too nice,’ declared her companion. ‘If I were you, I would want to be amused after spending hours with me. Am I very tiresome?’
The blue eyes were anxious. ‘Oh, lord, no,’ laughed Gemma, ‘you’re not tiresome at all—why should you think that? And I’m not at all overworked, you know—I feel as though I’m on holiday.’
‘Even when I ring the bell in the middle of the night just because I am fed up?’
‘Even then, and that doesn’t happen often, does it? You’ll be as good as new in another week or two.’
‘That’s what Ross said, and he never tells fibs.’ Rienieta asked after a pause: ‘Do you like him?’
‘Yes.’ Gemma meant that; she did like him; he had a nice habit of turning up at the right moment. ‘What would you like for your breakfast?’ she asked briskly.
The professor had gone by the time she went downstairs. She would have liked to have spent an hour or two in his company, telling him about Leo and the lovely time she had had and how wonderful she had felt and how doubtful she felt now—a rather ridiculous wish, really, but that hadn’t occurred to her; all she knew was that she could tell him things she wouldn’t dream of telling anyone else.
There wasn’t anyone at the breakfast table by the time she got there, either. Old Doctor Dieperink van Berhuys had gone to Breda where he still had a small consulting practice with two partners, and his wife had gone with him. Gemma exchanged good mornings with Ignaas who had brought in fresh coffee for her and sat down to her lonely meal.
But at least there were letters for her; a thick envelope with news from each of her brothers and sisters as well as a long, neatly written one from Cousin Maud, in which she was told to have a good time while she was in Holland. ‘And,’ Maud suggested, ‘if you want to, when your job is finished, why don’t you go to Amsterdam and have a look round? I’m sure Ross would know of some inexpensive, quiet hotel.’
Gemma smiled as she read this; Ross, she felt sure, if he felt the need to stay in a hotel in Amsterdam, would go to the Amstel or the Doelen; she doubted very much if he had ever poked his high-bridged nose into any lesser establishment. She put down Maud’s letter and picked up the last envelope. From Matron, bless her, hoping that she was happy and implying, in the nicest possible way, that there would be no job for her when she got back; there was some dispute about the number of geriatric beds and the fire had given some of the more cheese-paring members of the board to press for a cut in the number of patients as well as nurses. Matron expressed the hope that Gemma might find herself a nice, well-paid job in Holland; probably she would have the opportunity of looking around for herself and inquiring at some of the larger hospitals. Utrecht or Leiden, wrote Matron knowledgeably, were renowned for their teaching hospitals and Gemma was sufficiently highly qualified to apply for any post she chose.
Gemma folded the letter thoughtfully. She saw very little chance of going to either Utrecht or Leiden and still less of seeing the inside of any hospital; she would have to look around the moment she got back to England—London was a safe bet, of course; her own training hospital would give her a job if there was one going, but then she wouldn’t be home each day to help Cousin Maud. She would have to think about it.
She was about to leave the table when Ria came to tell her that she was wanted on the telephone. She tried not to hurry across the hall; it was absurd how breathless she felt at the prospect of hearing Leo’s voice again. Only it wasn’t Leo, it was Bart, wanting to know if she would like to go to the Annual Ball at his hospital. ‘Saturday,’ he told her, ‘so you have two days to arrange things, and that shouldn’t be difficult because Iny will be home for days off and she’ll keep an eye on Rienieta. And you are to wear the pink dress you wore the other evening.’
Gemma didn’t remember that he had seen her in it, but probably Rienieta had told him about it. Her head was so nicely full of excited thoughts that she quite forgot about Leo; did he think, she asked anxiously, that two evenings out in one week seemed rather a lot? She listened to his reassurances, admitted that she hadn’t had much free time so far, and promised she would ask if anyone would mind.
They didn’t; she was urged to accept, plans were made for Doctor Dieperink van Berhuys to drive her to Utrecht where Bart would meet her, and so much interest was displayed in what she intended to wear and how she would do her hair that she was made to feel quite important. She forbore to mention that she had only the pink dress, anyway—and as for her hair, she decided to do it as she always did, otherwise it might come adrift and spoil her evening.
Rienieta was improving steadily now; there had been almost no fever for two days, although she still had aching joints if she attempted to do too much. Gemma let her do a little more each day, playing with the puppies, playing endless games of cards, discussing clothes, and never lacking something to talk about. They got on well together, and Rienieta regaled her with tales of her family, only she never seemed to have much to say about Ross. It was surprising, mused Gemma, that he seemed such a casual yet candid person, and yet the very whereabouts of his home was a secret to her. She brushed his image aside and concentrated upon Leo, but he hadn’t taken any notice of her since they had had their evening together, so she brushed him aside too, which wasn’t so easy.
She spent the whole of Saturday in a state of apprehension, afraid that Rienieta
would develop a temperature and have another relapse so that she would be unable to go to the ball, but she remained in quite excellent health, and Gemma, having dealt with pills, instructions for going to bed and any emergency which could possibly arise, retired to her room to dress, to reappear just as Ignaas was coming up the stairs to tell her that Doctor Dieperink van Berhuys was ready to leave. She flew to say good-night to Rienieta and Iny and skipped downstairs, where she found Rienieta’s mother waiting to wish her a pleasant evening and offer, in the most tactful way, a soft white shawl.
‘Too warm for a coat,’ she observed tactfully, ‘but you might need a wrap when you return.’ Her nice little face broke into a smile. ‘Don’t let Bart drive too fast, my dear.’ Bart was to bring Gemma back and stay the night.
Ross’s father had very much the same manner as his eldest son; he was almost as placid and he drove just as fast. Gemma hardly noticed the journey; she chatted away happily, led on by his quiet questions and comments, laughing at his small jokes, so that by the time they arrived at the hospital she was in exactly the right mood for a super evening. She thanked him prettily for bringing her, expressed the hope that he would drive carefully home again, and allowed herself to be handed over to Bart, who said at once to win her heart: ‘Ah, the pink dress—good!’