by Betty Neels
‘I don’t know if the man who built it shared that opinion,’ said Alexander. ‘Probably he had it made so that he could escape from his wife and children when they got too much for him. I daresay he was a man of leisure, unable to escape to work from the family circle.’
‘Well,’ burst out Victoria indignantly, ‘what a thing to say—if you imagine you’ll be able to duck domestic responsibilities…’ She got no further, for he engulfed her in an embrace and kissed her breathless so that she was unable to remonstrate any further.
‘Dear love, will you believe me when I tell you that I’m longing to take up my domestic responsibilities? I promise you I shall never want to leave you for any other reason than my work.’
‘Pooh,’ said Victoria, ‘and I know what that will be—called out just as we’re sitting down to dinner, home late, up early.’ She smiled happily at him. ‘I promise you, in my turn, I’ll make you a splendid wife and I’ll never grumble—well, almost never, if I don’t see you to speak to for days on end.’
‘Never that—I’m not quite like a GP, you know. I seldom have to go out at night and once I’m home in the evenings, I expect to stay.’
They walked slowly round the little pond. ‘When shall I see your house—you’ll be working…’
‘Tomorrow evening. I’ll come for you and we’ll go round it together and if there’s anything you don’t like or want altered we can see to it.’
‘I don’t think that’s very likely. If it’s like this house—it’s quite beautiful.’
He looked pleased. ‘Next weekend I’ll drive you over to Loenen and show you the cottage. It’s very small, but I think you’ll like it too.’
‘I looked at the map—there are some lakes near Wassenaar. Why don’t you have a cottage by one of them?’
‘The Loosdrecht lakes are larger—besides, I belong to the Royal Water Sports Club at Loenen. It’s not far, you know—under forty miles and a fast run on the autobaan.’ He looked at his watch. ‘Time for lunch, my darling.’ He kissed her swiftly, turned her round and walked her back to the house. ‘Tell me,’ he said, ‘how do you feel about driving over here?’
‘What—on the wrong side of the road? I’m not very good even in England.’
He laughed with gentle mockery. ‘We’ll have to alter that. When we’re married I’ll get you something small and not too fast, but you’ll not drive alone until I’m quite sure you know what you’re doing.’
They paused in the doorway. ‘But I never know what I’m doing when I’m driving,’ confessed Victoria.
The rest of the day was delightful and all too short. A leisurely tour of the house, with suitable intervals for talk, took up the afternoon while Mijnheer and Mevrouw van Schuylen rested in the sitting room. And after a cup of tea and wafer-thin biscuits which Victoria discovered was all there was to a Dutch tea-time, people called—friends, a sprinkling of cousins and aunts and uncles and a handful of Alexander’s colleagues.
They stood about the beautiful room talking to each other and to Victoria, switching from Dutch to English and back again with no apparent effort. Their lingual prowess filled her with envy and a determination to learn the language in the quickest possible time. And after the last caller had gone, they sat, the four of them, talking in the pleasant inconsequential way of a happy family, so that by the time they sat down to dinner that evening, Victoria felt that she had known her host and hostess for a great deal longer than a mere few hours.
Alexander left at ten o’clock. She had had very little opportunity of talking to him alone since the afternoon, it looked now, as he said goodnight to his parents, as if there would be no chance now. In this, however, she was mistaken. He crossed the room and pulled her to her feet, saying easily: ‘Vicky darling, come and see me off,’ and in the hall by the great door that was still standing open, he paused. ‘You must be tired, my little love—all these strange people—but Mother and Father find you quite perfect, as I knew they would.’ He held her close and kissed her gently. ‘Sleep well, Vicky. Goodnight, my darling.’
Victoria watched him get into his car and drive away, and stayed in the doorway long after the sound of the engine had faded into the summer night. She longed to be with him and as she went back into the house she sighed a little, feeling lonely, and as though his mother had sensed it, she was invited to sit on the sofa and look through the family photograph albums. The sight of Alexander as a small boy, looking belligerently into the camera, somehow comforted her. ‘He was a naughty little boy,’ said his mother placidly, ‘but never cruel or deceitful.’ She turned blue, still beautiful eyes upon Victoria. ‘He has a shocking bad temper,’ she offered. ‘Did you know?’
‘Yes, I knew,’ Victoria replied, ‘but the only time I saw it, it was completely justified.’ Jeremy Blake seemed very far away at that moment. She wasted no more thought on him but stated flatly: ‘I’ve got a bad temper too. Not often, but I’m pigheaded.’
Mevrouw van Schuylen chuckled delightedly. ‘Just what he needs,’ she murmured, and closed the last album. ‘Now you will like to go to bed, you have had a long day and everything is strange, is it not?’
In bed, very soon afterwards, Victoria sat against the big pillows, her arms round her knees. There was a lot to mull over and she wasn’t in the least sleepy. Or so she thought; she had only just begun to think about Alexander when she fell asleep.
The next day, which she had secretly dreaded, proved to be delightful. She went shopping with Mevrouw van Schuylen after breakfast, driven into Leiden by the doctor, who dropped them off in the centre of the little city and went on his way to deliver some lecture or other at the Medical School. He promised to pick them up later and take them home for lunch, for, as he darkly confided to Victoria, although his wife could drive, he didn’t trust her an inch once she was behind the steering wheel.
They spent the afternoon in the garden and after tea Victoria repaired to her room to get ready for Alexander. She wasn’t sure at what time he would come, but she was determined to be ready for him. She changed her cotton dress for a pink silk jersey of an exact shade to complement her hair, and put on her new coffee-coloured sandals, and because she didn’t know how late they would return that evening, she put out a thin wool coat of the same colour. Her brilliant hair she had arranged in its three complicated loops, and her face, which needed little done to it anyway, was delicately lipsticked and powdered, with only the faintest hint of eyeshadow. She took a final look at herself, was lavish with Dioressence, and went downstairs just as the Mercedes drew up at the door. She was halfway across the hall when Alexander, coming in, saw her.
‘I’ve waited all day,’ he said, and kissed her so hard that she regretted the careful time spent on her mirror, for her make-up was a total loss.
They spent only the briefest of time with his parents; within ten minutes he had turned the car and started on the short drive back to Wassenaar. It looked a pleasant place, Victoria decided, as they reached its outskirts, with a feeling of spaciousness about it which she hadn’t felt in the towns she had already seen. The houses stood in their own gardens, some of them quite large, and even the avenues of semi-detached houses looked secluded and well-to-do.
‘Is this all there is of the town?’ she asked. ‘I haven’t seen any shops.’
‘There aren’t many, and they’re in the old village. It’s a suburb of den Haag, remember, so everyone goes there to shop, except for local groceries and so on.’ He swung the car into a short, secluded road with fields and trees on its one side and a scattering of houses on the other. Halfway down he edged the car through an open gateway and stopped before a low house with a thatched roof, so utterly unlike what Victoria had expected that she sat saying nothing, staring at it.
‘Surprised? It’s an old farmhouse—there are several around here. I’ve managed to keep most of it in its original form, though it has been added to here and there.’
She looked at him and said finally: ‘It’s not what I expected�
�it’s heavenly. I can’t wait to see inside. Is all this garden yours?’
‘Yes.’ He got out of the car and helped her out too and without letting go of her arm, drew her to the door. It was an old door of weathered oak and there was a bell pull beside it which Victoria longed to tug, but there was no need, for the door had already been opened by a short, round person, with hair screwed into a fierce bun, a cheerful face as round as herself and bright black eyes.
‘Juffrouw Boot,’ said Alexander, ‘my housekeeper and treasure—I should die without her.’ He smiled as he spoke and her beam became even more pronounced.
‘Now then, Doctor,’ said Juffrouw Boot, ‘not to tease, I beg.’
She spoke English—peculiar English, but all the same, English. Victoria exclaimed delightedly over this fact and the housekeeper looked pleased and a little self-conscious. ‘Not well,’ she explained for Victoria’s benefit, ‘but necessary. Doctor has many English friends, I must understand for the easiness.’
Victoria, still a little at sea because of Juffrouw Boot’s peculiar way of pronouncing, volunteered the opinion that that was a splendid idea and Juffrouw Boot, still smiling, ushered them in, closed the door behind them and retired to her kitchen.
The house was quite perfect, furnished with a care and taste and an eye to detail which caused Victoria to exclaim: ‘Did you do all this yourself? The colours and the lamp-shades and the bowls of flowers and that sampler on the wall and…’
He knew what she meant and his smile mocked her a little.
‘My sweet, what you really want to know is which women or woman had a hand in it, isn’t that so? Several.’ He had his back to her now, opening a window, but when he turned round again his mocking smile had gone. He was smiling but now with tenderness. ‘Goose! Most of it I thought of for myself, when I needed help or advice I had my mother and my sisters and my sisters-in-law, all clamouring to assist me.’ He came to stand in front of her and took her hands in his. ‘Vicky, I’ve had girl-friends, but none so close that I would wish her to arrange my home for me. Only you, my future wife, will do that.’
‘Oh, I’m so glad!’ She searched his face. ‘I’m a fool, aren’t I? but I can’t help wondering—any girl would—you must have been in love…’ She paused. ‘I’m not supposed to ask that, am I? but I can’t help it.’
Alexander let her hands go and took her chin between a gentle thumb and finger and lifted her face to meet his eyes. They were very blue and clear and she thought she could see a gleam of laughter in them.
‘I would be a shocking liar if I told you that you were the first woman I had ever fallen in love with, and yet in a way it would be true; I have imagined myself in love on numerous occasions, although perhaps “in love” is hardly the right term, but you are the first woman I have loved, my darling, and the last. Does that satisfy you?’
She nodded her head with its crown of brilliant hair. ‘Yes, I’ll not mention it again—ever,’ she promised. ‘You’re not annoyed?’
‘No,’ he bent and kissed her lightly. ‘I’m glad you brought the matter up, for I wish that there will be no secrets between us, my Vicky.’ He slid an arm around her shoulders. ‘Come and see the drawing room.’
She could find no fault with it despite the fact that very few of its furnishings were of the same period. The fireplace surround was square and solid and white marble, the wallpaper was of dark green striped paper which looked like silk, and when she studied it, Victoria discovered that it was. The floor was carpeted in a peacock blue which matched superbly with the walls and the chair covers, which were cream chintz patterned boldly with raspberry-coloured flowers and green leaves. There were gilt-framed portraits on the walls—‘Family,’ explained the doctor when she stopped to examine them—and the wall lights were brass with cream shades, only the table lamps were raspberry pink, as were the cushions on the sofa. There was a Regency worktable in one corner decorated with pen-work and a painted firescreen of carved pinewood stood before the empty hearth. The further wall was taken up by a cabinet filled with silver and glass, adding beauty to an already beautiful room. Victoria stared around her, trying to realise that before very long she would be sitting in that very room, with Alexander on the opposite side of the hearth. She smiled as she conjured up this domestic scene and her heartbeat quickened at the thought of having him all to herself for the rest of her life. For one awful moment she wanted to burst into tears with sheer happiness; instead she observed:
‘It’s a heavenly room, Alexander dear. I wouldn’t want to alter a thing—it’s perfect!’
The dining room was beautiful too. The table was of a plain dark wood banded with holly wood and the chairs grouped round it were simple and elegant; richly cushioned in plum-coloured velvet. The sideboard, which was vast, and a side table completed the furniture in the room, but it was enough; its white walls, plum-coloured curtains and many-coloured carpet gave it a warmth of which Victoria thoroughly approved. She said so with deep satisfaction as she was led across the hall to a much smaller room—a sitting room, comfortable and lived-in. Its furnishings of browns and tawny yellows mixed nicely with the panelled walls and the elaborate plaster ceiling.
‘This used to be the parlour of the farmhouse when it was in its original state,’ Alexander explained. ‘I use it for a sitting room and quite often have my meals here. My study’s next door.’ He flung open a door in one corner and showed her this rather austere apartment, lined with books, the round table in its centre weighed down with papers and a businesslike desk in one corner. Here, presumably, the doctor was in the habit of seeing such patients as came to the house; not too many, she hoped out loud.
‘Very seldom—just occasionally it is more convenient. I much prefer to see them at the hospitals where I go or in my own rooms. Come upstairs, Vicky.’
There were more rooms than she had supposed, the largest of which was in the front of the house, which she viewed with a somewhat heightened colour, to the doctor’s amusement. He lounged against one wall, looking blandly wicked while she strolled around, finding nothing to say.
‘Well?’ he asked at length.
‘It’s charming…’
‘You like the colours? There’s nothing you would like altered?’
She caught his eye and frowned because he was laughing at her. ‘No—it’s perfect. Why must you laugh? I’ve not done this before. I’m a little…’
He crossed the room in two strides and hugged her. ‘Oh, darling girl, you look exactly as you used to on the ward when the Major wouldn’t behave himself! Come and see the rest of the house.’
Which was just as charming—there were more bedrooms, bathrooms and two roomy apartments which she rightly supposed were destined to be the nurseries. As they went slowly down the staircase with its carved banisters, she reflected that the house was a gem. The man who owned it must be rich; something she had never bothered much about. She had always known that he was comfortably well-off, but that wasn’t quite the same thing. She said half accusingly: ‘You must be rich—I didn’t know…’
‘No, my love, I’m aware of that. It didn’t seem important enough to tell you about.’ His voice was placid, and she answered readily: ‘No, of course it wasn’t,’ because of course he was right, she wouldn’t have cared if he had been a struggling doctor at the bottom of the ladder instead of at the top. ‘Shall we live here always?’
‘Yes—that is until I inherit the house in Leiden.’
‘Not for years and years,’ she interposed warmly. ‘I shall love living here, Alexander.’
They stood together in the hall and he kissed her slowly. ‘The house has been waiting for you,’ he said softly.
They went back to the little sitting room then and ate the dinner Juffrouw Boot had cooked for them, and Victoria, unaware of what she was eating, declared that it was the best meal she had tasted. Afterwards they sat talking, close together on one of the sofas in the drawing room, until it was dark and Alexander got to his feet reluctantly a
nd said: ‘I’ll take you home.’
Victoria bade Juffrouw Boot a happy goodnight and followed him out to the car and was driven, much too quickly, back to his father’s house. The evening had gone in a flash and when she asked him when she would see him again he replied: ‘Not tomorrow, I’m afraid, Vicky dear. I’ve a meeting in the evening and my day is pretty well filled up.’ He smiled regretfully. ‘I’ll telephone you.’
With that she had to be content, telling herself that if she was to become a doctor’s wife she might as well start straight away getting used to playing second fiddle to his work. He went into the house with her, but only for a few minutes; Victoria stood on the steps watching the tail lights of the Mercedes disappearing down the darkened road, reminding herself that even if he couldn’t come tomorrow, there was always the day after. She went to bed at once, to lie awake and remember each detail of his home—her home too, she thought sleepily, and closed her eyes on the delightful thought.
Alexander came and went all that first week, sometimes for several hours, sometimes for the briefest of visits; and not every day either, but the week passed pleasantly enough. She accompanied her host and hostess wherever they happened to be going and there was no lack of visitors to the house as well, numerous invitations to drinks were pressed upon her too and it was to one such gathering that Alexander accompanied the three of them. The house they had been bidden to was in den Haag, a tall, narrow building with a high gabled roof and a magnificent interior. There were a great many people there and Victoria, caught up in a small group of people she had met the previous evening, looked round for Alexander. She saw him at last, at the other end of the room, talking to a young woman, a blonde with silvery hair and a lovely figure. She was an elegant creature and they weren’t so far away that Victoria wasn’t able to see that she had a hand on the doctor’s arm. Victoria felt a faint pricking of jealousy stir deep inside her and then turned her back upon them. Common sense, of which she had plenty, told her that if she were to allow her feelings to get the better of her every time Alexander spoke to a pretty woman, life would become a tiresome business. She caught Mevrouw van Schuylen’s eye and smiled and presently went to join her.