'Please don't worry about that. They have so many gifts that they lose count as to whom they are from.'
Emmy, making paper chains for the nursery, found him beside her.
'After lunch we'll go over the house, if you would like that, but, in the meantime, will you bring those upstairs and we'll hang them before the children get here?'
The nursery was at the back of the house behind a baize door. There was a night nursery, too, and a bedroom for nanny, a small kitchenette and a splendidly equipped bathroom.
'The children sleep here, but they go where they like in the house. Children should be with their parents as much as possible, don't you agree?'
'Well, of course. Otherwise they're not a family, are they?' She stood there, handing him the chains as he fastened them in festoons between the walls. 'Did you sleep here, too?'
'Oh, yes. Until I was eight years old. On our eighth birthdays we were given our own bedrooms.'
He hung the chains, and turned to stare at her. 'You like my home, Ermentrude?'
'Yes, indeed I do. I think you must be very happy here.'
She walked to the door, uneasy under his look. 'At what time do your sisters arrive?'
His voice was reassuringly casual again. 'Very shortly after lunch. It will be chaos for the rest of the afternoon, I expect. Several friends will be coming to dinner.'
She paused as they reached the stairs. 'You have been so kind to us, Professor, but that doesn't mean you have to include us in your family gatherings.' She saw his quick frown. 'I've put that badly, but you know quite well what I mean, don't you? Mother and Father and I would be quite happy if you would like us to dine alone. I mean, you weren' t expecting us…'
She had made him angry. She started down the staircase and wished that she had held her tongue, but she had had to say it. Perhaps if she hadn't fallen in love with him she wouldn't have felt the urge to make it clear to him that they were on sufferance, even if it was a kindly sufferance.
He put out a hand and stopped her, turned her round to face him, and when he spoke it was in a rigidly controlled voice which masked his anger.
'Never say such a thing to me again, Ermentrude. You and your parents are my guests, and welcome in my house. Be good enough to remember that.'
She stood quietly under his hand. 'All right, I won't,' she told him. 'Don't be so annoyed, there's no need.'
He smiled then. 'Should I beg your pardon? Did I startle you?'
'Oh, no. I think I've always known that you conceal your feelings.' She met his look and went pink. 'Now it's me who should say sorry. Goodness me, I wouldn't have dared talk to you like that at St Luke's. It must be because we're here.'
He studied her face, nodded and went on down the stairs, his hand still on her arm.
* * *
Lunch was a cheerful meal. The professor and Mr Foster seemed to have a great deal in common; neither was at a loss for a subject although they were careful to include Mrs Foster and Emmy.
Shortly afterwards the first of the guests arrived. The house seemed suddenly to be full of children, racing around, shouting and laughing, hugging the dogs, hanging onto their uncle, absorbing Emmy and her parents into their lives as though they had always been there.
There were only four of them but it seemed more—three boys and a girl, the eldest six years and the youngest two. A rather fierce Scottish nanny came with them, but she took one look at Emmy's unassuming person and allowed her to be taken over by her charges. So Emmy was coaxed to go to the nursery with the children and their mother, a tall young woman with the professor's good looks. She had shaken Emmy by the hand, and liked her.
'Joke,' she said with a smile. 'It sounds like part of an egg but it's spelt like a joke. I do hope you like children. Mine run wild at Christmas, and Ruerd spoils them. My sister Alemke will be here shortly; she's got a boy and two girls, and a baby on the way.' She grinned at Emmy. 'Are we all a bit overpowering?'
'No, no. I like children. Only, you see, the professor is so—well, remote at the hospital. It's hard to think of him with a family.'
'I know just what you mean.' Joke made a face. 'He loves children, but I don't think Anneliese, his fiancée, likes them very much. I sound critical, don't I? Well, I am. Why he has to marry someone like her I'll never know. Suitable, I suppose.'
She took Emmy's arm. 'I'm so glad you're here. Only I hope the children aren't going to plague you.'
'I shan't mind a bit. How old are your sister's children?'
'The boy is five, and the girls—twins—almost three. Let's go down and have tea.'
Her sister had arrived when they got down to the drawing room and there were more children, who, undeterred by language problems, took possession of Emmy.
Alemke was very like her sister, only younger. 'Isn't this fun?' she said in English as good as Emmy's own. 'I love a crowd. Our husbands will come later, and I suppose Aunt Beatrix will be here and Uncle Cor and Grandmother ter Mennolt. She's a bit fierce, but don't mind her. There'll be Ruerd's friends, too; it should be great fun. And Anneliese, of course.'
The sisters exchanged looks. 'We don't like her, though we try very hard to do so,' said Joke.
'She's very beautiful,' said Emmy, anxious to be fair.
'You've met her?'
'She came to St Luke's when I was working there, to see the professor.'
'Do you always call Ruerd "professor"?' asked Joke.
'Well, yes. He's—he's…Well, it's difficult to explain, but the hospital—He's a senior consultant and I was on the telephone exchange.'
Alemke took her arm. 'Come over here and sit with us while we have tea, and tell us about the hospital—wasn't there a bomb or something? Ruerd mentioned it vaguely. Anneliese was over there, wasn't she?'
Emmy accepted a delicate china cup of tea and a tiny biscuit.
'Yes, it must have been very difficult for the professor because, of course, he was busier than usual.'
Joke and Alemke exchanged a quick look. Here was the answer to their prayers. This small girl with the plain face and the beautiful eyes was exactly what they had in mind for their brother. They had seen with satisfaction that, beyond a few civil remarks, he had avoided Emmy and she had gone out of her way to stay at the other end of the room. A good sign, but it was unfortunate that Ruerd had given his promise to Anneliese. Who would be coming that evening, no doubt looking more beautiful than ever.
The children, excited but sleepy, were led away after tea to be bathed and given supper and be put to bed, and everyone else went away to dress for the evening. Emmy had seen with pleasure that her parents were enjoying themselves and were perfectly at ease in their grand surroundings. She reminded herself that before her father had been made redundant he and her mother had had a pleasant social life. It was only when they had gone to London and he had been out of work that they had had to change their ways.
Emmy took a long time dressing. The result looked very much as usual to her anxious eyes as she studied her person in the pier-glass. The brown dress was best described as useful, its colour mouse-like, guaranteed to turn the wearer into a nonentity, its modest style such that it could be worn year after year without even being noticed.
Emmy had bought it at a sale, searching for a dress to wear to the annual hospital ball at St Luke's two years previously, knowing that it would have to last for a number of years even if its outings were scanty. It hardly added to her looks, although it couldn't disguise her pretty figure.
She went slowly down the staircase, hoping that no one would notice her.
The professor noticed—and knew then why Emmy hadn't wanted to join his other guests. He crossed the hall to meet her at the foot of the staircase, and took her hand with a smile and a nod at her person. He said in exactly the right tone of casual approval, 'Very nice, Ermentrude. Come and meet the rest of my guests.'
His brothers-in-law were there now, but he took her first to an old lady sitting by the console table.
'Aunt
Beatrix, this is Ermentrude Foster who is staying here over Christmas with her parents—you have already met them.'
The old lady looked her up and down and held out a hand. 'Ah, yes. You have an unusual name. Perhaps you are an unusual girl?'
Emmy shook the old hand. 'No, no. I'm very ordinary.'
Aunt Beatrix patted the stool at her feet. 'Sit down and tell me what you do.' She shot a glance at Emmy. 'You do do something?'
'Well, yes.' Emmy told her of the job at St. Luke's. 'But, now Father has a post in Dorset, I can live there and find something to do while I train.'
'What for?'
'I want to embroider—really complicated embroidery, you know? Tapestry work and smocking on babies' dresses and drawn thread work. And when I know enough I'd like to open a small shop.'
'Not get married?'
'I expect if someone asked me, and I loved him, I'd like to get married,' said Emmy.
The professor had wandered back. 'Come and meet Rik and Hugo and the others.' He put a hand on her shoulder and led her from one to the other, and then paused by Anneliese, who was superb in red chiffon, delicately made-up, her hair an artless mass of loose curls.
'Remember Ermentrude?' asked the professor cheerfully.
'Of course I do.' Anneliese studied the brown dress slowly and smiled a nasty little smile. 'What a rush for you, coming here at a moment's notice. Ruerd told me all about it, of course. You must feel very grateful to him. Such a bore for you, having no time to buy some decent clothes. Still, I suppose you're only here for a couple of days.'
'Yes, I expect we are,' said Emmy in a carefully controlled voice. Just then the professor was called away. Anneliese turned round and spoke to a tall, stout woman chatting nearby. 'Mother, come and meet this girl Ruerd is helping yet again.'
Mevrouw van Moule ignored the hand Emmy put out. She had cold eyes and a mean mouth, and Emmy thought, In twenty years' time Anneliese will look like that.
'I dare say you find all this rather awkward, do you not? You worked in a hospital, I understand.'
'Yes,' said Emmy pleasantly. 'An honest day's work, like the professor. He does an honest day's work, too.' She smiled sweetly at Anneliese. 'What kind of work do you do, Anneliese?'
'Anneliese is far too delicate and sensitive to work,' declared her mother. 'In any case she has no need to do so. She will marry Professor ter Mennolt very shortly.'
'Yes, I did know.' Emmy smiled at them both. It was a difficult thing to do; she wanted to slap them, and shake Anneliese until her teeth rattled in her head. 'So nice to see you again,' she told Anneliese, and crossed the room to join her mother and father, who were talking to an elderly couple, cousins of the professor.
The professor's two sisters, watching her from the other end of the room, saw her pink cheeks and lifted chin and wondered what Anneliese had said to her. When the professor joined them for a moment, Joke said, 'Ruerd, why did you leave Emmy with Anneliese and her mother? They've upset her. You know how nasty Anneliese can be.' She caught her brother's eye. 'All right, I shouldn't have said that. But her mother's there, too…'
She wandered away and presently fetched up beside Emmy.
'You crossed swords,' she said into Emmy's ear. 'Were they absolutely awful?'
'Yes.'
'I hope you gave them as good as you got,' said Joke.
'Well, no. I wanted to very badly, but I couldn't, could I? I'm a guest here, aren't I? And I couldn't answer back.'
'Why not?'
'Anneliese is going to marry Ruerd. He—he must love her, and it would hurt him if she were upset.'
Joke tucked her hand in her arm. 'Emmy, dear, would you mind if Ruerd was upset?'
'Yes, of course. He's—he's kind and patient and very generous, and he deserves to be happy.' Emmy looked at Joke, unaware of the feelings showing so plainly in her face.
'Yes, he does,' said Joke gravely. 'Come and meet some more of the family. We're endless, aren't we? Have you met my grandmother?'
Twenty people sat down to dinner presently. The table had been extended and more chairs arranged round it, but there was still plenty of room. Emmy, sitting between one of the brothers-in-law and a jovial man—an old friend of the family—could see her parents on the other side of the table, obviously enjoying themselves.
The professor sat at the head of the table, of course, with Anneliese beside him and his grandmother on his other hand. Emmy looked away and concentrated on something else. There was plenty to concentrate upon. The table for a start, with the lace table mats, sparkling glass and polished silver. There was an epergne at its centre, filled with holly, Christmas roses and trailing ivy, and candles in silver candelabra.
Dinner lived up to the splendour of the table: sorrel soup, mustard-grilled sole, raised game pie with braised celery, brussel sprouts with chestnuts, spinach purée and creamed potatoes, and to follow a selection of desserts.
Emmy, finding it difficult to choose between a mouth-watering trifle and a milanaise soufflé, remembered the bread and jam they had once eaten and blushed. She blushed again when the professor caught her eye and smiled. Perhaps he had remembered, too, although how he had thought of anything else but his beautiful Anneliese sitting beside him…
Emmy, savouring the trifle, saw that Anneliese was toying with a water ice. No wonder she was so slim. Not slim, thought Emmy—bony. And, however gorgeous her dress was, it didn't disguise Anneliese's lack of bosom. Listening politely to the old friend of the family talking about his garden, Emmy was thankfully aware that her own bosom left nothing to be desired. A pity about the brown dress, of course, but, since the professor had barely glanced at her, it hardly mattered—a potato sack would have done just as well.
Dinner over, the party repaired to the drawing room and Emmy went to sit by her mother.
Mrs Foster was enjoying herself. 'This is delightful, Emmy. When I think that we might still be at the lodge, surrounded by someone else's furniture…I do wish we had brought a present for Ruerd.'
'Well, there wasn't time, Mother. Perhaps we can send him something when we get back home. Has he said how long we're staying here?'
'No, but he told your father that he has to return to England on Boxing Day, so I expect we shall go back with him then.' Mrs Foster added, 'I don't like his fiancée; she'll not make him a good wife.'
They were joined by other guests then, and the rest of the evening passed pleasantly enough. Around midnight Anneliese and her mother went home. She went from one group to the other, laughing and talking, her hand on the professor's sleeve, barely pausing to wish Emmy and her mother goodnight.
'I'll be back tomorrow,' she told them. 'Ruerd has excellent servants but they need supervision. So fortunate that Ruerd offered you a roof over your heads for Christmas. Of course, it was the least anyone could do.'
She gave them a brittle smile and left them.
'I don't like her,' said Mrs Foster softly.
'She's beautiful,' said Emmy. 'She will be a most suitable wife for Ruerd.'
Alemke joined them then and they chattered together, presently joined by several other guests, until people began to drift home. All this while the professor had contrived to be at the other end of the room, going from one group to the other, pausing briefly to say something to Mrs Foster, hoping that Emmy was enjoying herself. The perfect host.
* * *
The next day was Christmas Eve, and Anneliese arrived for lunch wrapped in cashmere and a quilted silk jacket. At least she came alone this time, playing her part as the future mistress of Ruerd's house with a charm which set Emmy's teeth on edge.
Somehow she managed to make Emmy feel that she was receiving charity, even while she smiled and talked and ordered Cokker about as though she were already his mistress. He was called away to the phone, and she took the opportunity to alter the arrangements for lunch, reprimand Cokker for some trivial fault and point out to Emmy in a sugary voice that there would be guests for lunch and had she nothing more suitable to
wear?
'No, I haven't,' said Emmy coldly. 'And if you don't wish to sit down to the table with me, please say so. I'm sure the professor won't mind if I and my mother and father have something on a tray in another room.' She added, 'I'll go and find him and tell him so…'
Anneliese said urgently, 'No, no, I didn't mean…It was only a suggestion. I'm sure you look quite nice, and everyone knows—'
'What does everyone know?' asked the professor from the door.
He looked from one to the other of them, and Emmy said in a wooden voice, 'Oh, you must ask Anneliese that,' and went past him out of the room.
The professor said quietly, 'The Fosters are my guests, Anneliese. I hope that you remember that—and that you are in my house!'
The Mistletoe Kiss Page 13