by Betty Neels
‘If I had someone to show me how,’ Julia told him. ‘Of course, you can.’
‘Rather—Father taught me—so he’ll teach you.’
If only he would, but that was something which belonged to her day dreams. She said cheerfully, ‘Not in this weather, I hope,’ and the boys rocked with laughter at her little joke. But they were in the mood to laugh at anything. She peeped at Lauris but his profile was calm and a little stern. She hoped that he wasn’t vexed with Nicky.
‘Are we nearly there?’ she asked. She looked around her. ‘I like this country, it must be heavenly in the summer.’
The professor didn’t answer her but Nicky did, ‘Yes it is—you’ll love it, but winter’s fun too. Look, you can see the trees round the village.’
Indeed there were trees ahead of them and to the side of the narrow road and red-tiled roofs showing between them, and presently they turned into a narrow brick lane leading to the trees, past a cluster of farms and into a tiny village square with its church and circle of cottages, and out of the square on the other side for a bare minute’s drive before they turned in between big stone posts and into a drive between a thick border of trees and shrubs. The drive bent in a sharp curve and the house came into view. Only it wasn’t a house, it was a small castle with pepper pot towers, brightly painted shutters at the windows and funny little windows in its steep roof.
The professor stopped and the boys tumbled out, followed more slowly by Julia and him. They mounted the double steps with their wrought iron railing and found the splendid door open and a short stout man standing by it.
‘Beeker,’ said the professor warmly and wrung the man’s hand. ‘This is Miss Mitchell—Julia, this is Beeker, our friend and mainstay—he runs this place and has done for more years than I care to remember.’
Julia shook hands and was conscious of being looked over, very pleasantly, by a pair of bright blue eyes. ‘Delighted Miss,’ said Beeker in gruff English, and then spoke to Lauris.
She was conscious of his hand on her arm. ‘They are already with my mother, the boys,’ he told her and walked across the hall to a big double door left slightly open. It was a splendid hall, the walls hung with paintings and a variety of rather nasty looking weapons, but there were a couple of very comfortable arm chairs on either side of an enormous wall table bearing a gilt clock and some rather hideous candlesticks and the large rug half covering the black-and-white tiles was old and faded, its colours only slightly dimmed by time.
The room they entered was large, with tall narrow windows and a hooded fireplace in which a fire roared invitingly. The furniture here was old too, shining with polish and the chairs covered in brocades and scattered with velvet cushions. The boys were clustered round a chair drawn up to the hearth, but they parted as Julia and Lauris went in and the chair’s occupant got up and came to meet them.
The professor’s mother was tall; as tall as Julia. She was a big woman who held herself well, and her white hair crowned what must have been a beautiful face in her youth. She was good looking still and dressed, Julia noted, very fashionably. She looked austere but there was nothing austere in her greeting of her son and the look she bent on Julia was full of warmth. ‘My dear, I have been looking forward to meeting you—Lauris has told me so much…we must get to know each other as quickly as possible.’
Julia agreed politely. She liked the lady on sight but she wasn’t likely to see her again after this brief stay and there would be no need to become too friendly? Perhaps she hadn’t quite meant it; after all, she was speaking another language, although it sounded faultless enough to Julia’s ear.
‘I’ll get Nel to take you to your room, my dear, but don’t stop to unpack. We’ll have coffee and then the boys can explore for a while before we lunch.’
‘Nel is Beeker’s daughter,’ said Lauris, ‘she’ll be in the hall, waiting for you.’ He took her hand and they went out of the room together and there sure enough was a plump young woman who beamed at the professor, shook his hand and then shook hands with Julia.
‘And if you are wondering what she is saying it is just her name,’ explained Lauris. ‘It’s usual when we’re introduced to say our own names at the same time.’
‘What a good idea.’ Julia wished she could think of something suitable to the occasion; a few words of praise about the smoothness of the journey, a gracefully turned phrase about his mother’s welcome. No words came: she stood and stared up into his face, suddenly uncertain about everything and wishing that she had never come.
The professor watched her face from beneath his heavy lids and smiled slowly. He said gently: ‘You like my home?’
‘Oh, yes.’ She was thankful to have been given a lifeline of conversation. ‘It’s quite beautiful, I had no idea. Don’t you wish that you could live here all the time?’
‘But one day I shall. It will be Nicky’s after me, besides it is such a splendid place in which children may grow up. Until then, I shall live in London and work there too, and come here whenever I can.’
She nodded, spurred on by unhappy thoughts, she asked: ‘And your fiancée—she won’t mind?’
He gave her a bland smile. ‘To tell you the truth, I haven’t yet asked her, but I am sure that she won’t have the least objection.’
He glanced at Nel. ‘Don’t be long; Mother wants to talk to you.’
The staircase was very graceful with shallow stone steps and a wrought iron balustrade topped by gleaming brass rails, it wound up the side of the hall to a circular gallery with doors all round it. Nel opened one of these and ushered Julia inside. It was a beautiful room, overlooking the grounds, which even in winter were a pleasant sight. The window was in a small bay with a sofa table set in it with a mirror on it and a little stool, and the bed had a matching quilt with the chintz curtains and the coverings of the two little arm chairs each side of the fireplace. There were doors along one wall, opening on to a deep closet and a modern bathroom, but there wasn’t time to explore them thoroughly. Mindful of Lauris’s warning, she did her face, tidied her hair and went back downstairs.
It amazed her to see how at home her two brothers already were; they and Nicky were sitting at a large rent table in one of the window recesses, coffee cups before them and a plate of biscuits which they were sharing with two labradors.
‘Come over here by the fire,’ said Lauris as she hesitated inside the door, and sat her down in a chair next to his mother before going back to the great winged arm chair he had been sitting in. She was glad of the coffee, it was something to do and she was feeling shy and nervous, although Mevrouw van der Wagema, chattering away about the castle and her daughters and grandchildren, soon put her at her ease.
‘I have three sisters,’ said Lauris, ‘I don’t think I’ve mentioned them.’
‘No you haven’t, but then, there was no reason for you to do so,’ Julia pointed out reasonably, and missed the quick amused glance son and mother exchanged. ‘They’re married?’
‘Oh, yes, and I have five grandchildren, not counting Nicky.’ Mevrouw van der Wagema looked positively smug. ‘I hope for more.’ She beamed at Julia. ‘Tell me now, about your family, Julia—you have a sister, do you not?’
Very well informed, thought Julia, she had scarcely thought that Lauris was such a gossip. She obliged with a brief description of her own family and her hostess settled back in her chair. ‘Lauris, take the boys away, I wish to talk to Julia.’
The professor got to his feet. ‘I’ll be back to pour you a drink in half an hour or so,’ he told them and wandered off, followed by the boys, much refreshed and ready for any excitement he might have to offer.
‘You have known Lauris a long time, my dear?’
Julia shook her head. ‘I’m his ward sister, Mevrouw van der Wagema, not a—a friend. At least, not until a month or so ago—he was very kind to me—I was engaged to be married…’ She skimmed very lightly over the happenings of the last few weeks, not sure that her hostess would be interested, but s
he was; questions fell thick and fast and it was something of a relief when Lauris reappeared, saying that the boys were in the kitchen plaguing the cook and what would they like to drink?
As he handed Julia her sherry he observed blandly, ‘Mother will have wrung you dry, no doubt, but you see she hasn’t much time…’
Julia wanted to ask why not. Surely his mother wasn’t suffering from some incurable complaint? Perhaps she was going away? Surely not, if he was on the point of getting married. She mumbled and was saved from answering by Mevrouw van der Wagema who wanted to know how Nicky was getting on with his coaching.
They lunched presently, sitting at a vast round table in an impressive room. The table could seat sixteen people and was splendidly decked with starched linen, shining silver and glass and Nel waited at table with Beeker pottering attentively. The food was delicious, and Julia, quite famished, enjoyed every morsel. She shouldn’t have done, she told herself silently; people who suffered unrequited love were supposed to go off their food, but so far, she was still as healthily hungry as ever. Eating the mouth-watering apple tart and cream which rounded off the meal, she wondered again where the fiancée was. Perhaps she would come that afternoon, or Lauris might go and fetch her from wherever she lived. He certainly went out after lunch, taking the car, with the casual remark that he would be back after tea. The boys saw him off and then declared their intention of going for a good long walk, leaving her and her hostess sitting opposite each other before the fire.
‘I shall take you round the castle,’ said Mevrouw van der Wagema, ‘but there is no hurry. It has been in the family for a very long time and Lauris is very devoted to it.’
‘I wonder why he lives in London,’ ventured Julia, hoping it didn’t sound rude.
‘Well, my dear, his godfather was English and a doctor too, as was his father. And of course he went to Cambridge and took an English degree as well as degrees here. He is a little of both countries, and I am happy that it is so. Of course, eventually, he will come here to live but at present he is content—or will be when he marries.’
‘I—I expected to see his fiancée,’ said Julia.
Mevrouw van der Wagema’s handsome features became as smooth and bland as her son’s when he wanted to hide something. ‘Oh, Lauris will make sure of that, my dear.’
‘She sounds very nice.’
‘She is—charming and so right for him—exactly what I would wish in a daughter-in-law. I do not very much care for the very young girls—you are thirty I believe?’
Julia said rather touchily. ‘Yes, getting long in the tooth.’
‘I would have said that you were at the height of your good looks, Julia. Also you do not look your age. Lauris is a good deal older than you,’ she added quickly, ‘and his fiancée.’ Julia glanced at her; she could have sworn that her companion was amused about something.
They had tea and little cakes around the fire later, and then the boys came in, hungry as always and were sent away to have a more substantial meal in what used to be the schoolroom when the professor and his sisters had been children. ‘You shall see it presently,’ said Mevrouw van der Wagema, ‘the grandchildren use it whenever they come to stay.’
It was dark by the time the professor returned but there was no one with him. He made no mention of where he had been, but sat and talked for a few minutes before his mother observed that it was time she changed her dress for the evening, a hint which Julia took willingly enough. She desperately wanted to stay with Lauris, but common sense warned her not to.
She was glad she had brought the green dress when she went downstairs. The professor had changed into a dark grey suit and a beautiful silk tie and his mother was in black velvet. The boys had spruced up too, undoubtedly thinking it worth while in anticipation of the meal they hoped to enjoy.
They enjoyed lobster soup, roast duck, a delicious salad on the side and syllabub with lashings of cream and they drank champagne. The boys were allowed only a little of it, of course, but Julia, after two glasses, felt that life wasn’t so bad after all.
The evening was passed pleasantly, with the boys and Julia playing Scrabble on the rent table and the professor and his mother sitting at the other end of the room, talking quietly. Nicky, seeing Julia glance at them, explained kindly: ‘They talk Fries together sometimes. They are now.’
No one stayed up late, it had been a long day and the plans for the morrow were copious. The boys went first, followed by Julia and her hostess. Lauris accompanied them to the foot of the stairs before turning away to go through a door opposite the drawing room.
‘His study,’ explained his mother as they reached the head of the stairs. ‘Sleep well, my dear, it is a delight to have you here.’
Contrary to her expectations Julia did sleep well, to wake while it was getting light and jump out of bed and peer down into the grounds below. There had been a frost and everything was covered in white. It looked tempting outside. No one would mind—indeed, no one need know—if she went outside and took a look around.
She showered and dressed in her slacks and her thickest woollen sweater, fastened her quilted jacket around her person, pulled the hood over her bright hair and crept around the gallery and down the stairs. There were faint sounds coming from behind a door which she supposed led to the kitchen, and a small lamp burned on the side table. She stood in the middle of the hall wondering if she dared open the great front door or find another smaller one. In a place this size there would be several, she guessed, and turned round to try doors she had not yet been through. She rotated slowly, deciding which one to try and then gave a gasp and came to a halt. Lauris was watching her from a narrow little door under the stairs.
‘Good morning, Julia. I wonder why I was so sure that you would be up early? I’ve been waiting for you.’
‘Me?’ She was breathless. ‘Oh, why?’
‘Shall we go outside and walk around and I’ll tell you.’
He held the little door open for her and she found herself in a small passage which wound round between white walls until it came to another small door which he opened. They stepped out into the pale light of early morning and she saw that they were at the back of the castle, with a long vista of lawns and flowers beds and trees at the far end. He took her arm and then, because she had forgotten her gloves, tucked her hand into his.
They had walked half way to the trees before she said carefully, ‘What did you want to talk about?’ and then suddenly exasperated, ‘Lauris, I really can’t go on like this and it’s so unfair…’
‘Unfair?’ His voice was gently enquiring.
‘Yes, to your fiancée—the girl you’re going to marry. I expected to meet her and I haven’t and it just won’t do. You said that she didn’t mind but I know that I jolly well would…’
‘Would you really? Would you be consumed with jealousy and tear me apart and probably throw something at me?’
‘Yes—yes I would. She’s too good to be true…’
‘Oh, she’s true enough.’ They had reached the trees and she saw a little wooden summer house tucked cosily in the centre of them. He drew her inside and it was surprisingly warm out of the wind.
He said suddenly: ‘Do you still love Longman?’
‘Heavens, no, I thought I did, you know, but now I know that I didn’t love him at all, not—not like…’
‘Yes,’ he prompted.
‘Never mind. Just that I didn’t know what loving someone was like.’
‘Until you found that you loved me,’ said the professor gently.
She raised her green eyes to his dark ones. ‘That’s unfair but quite true.’ It was a relief to be able to say it. She felt quite light headed with the pleasure of getting it off her chest at last.
‘Did it never strike you,’ asked Lauris, ‘that I might be in love with you?’
‘No.’ She thought briefly of his austere manner on the ward—hardly loverlike. ‘And you can’t be; you’re going to be married.’
; ‘So I am—to you, my darling girl.’
‘But the other girl—your fiancée…’
‘I never said that I had a fiancée,’ he reminded her, ‘I merely stated that I intended to get married. There is a difference if you think about it.’
‘I’m in no state to think,’ said Julia quite wildly, ‘and why didn’t you tell me?’
He burst out laughing and caught her close. ‘What? with Longman to start with and then you being suspicious each time I so much as looked at you? And so anxious not to poach on my fiancée’s preserves. I began to despair that we would ever become friends, let alone husband and wife.’
‘There’s no one else?’
He didn’t bother to answer that but bent to kiss her very thoroughly. ‘There’s never been anyone else, my dearest. Nicky knows it and Mother knows it, your mother knows it. You are the one who’s been hard to convince.’ He kissed her again. ‘You know I was on the point of proposing to you when you had that cold, but I thought you might not have liked it.’
‘I most certainly wouldn’t—I had a red nose and my hair needed washing.’
‘I didn’t mind. Oh, my darling, I said once that at the end of the day all we need is to love and be loved. I promise you that I will love you till the end of my days.’
She reached up and put her arms round his neck. ‘And I promise you that you will always be loved. Oh, Lauris…’
She turned her face up to his and had it well kissed for her pains.
ISBN: 978-1-4592-3950-0
AT THE END OF THE DAY
Copyright © 1985 by Betty Neels.