by Betty Neels
Serena bent down to fondle them. ‘Oh, they’re lovely. Which is which?’ And when he told her she asked, ‘Why did you call her Trotter? I mean a greyhound…’
‘She was discarded as being of no use for racing. The man who threw her out told me that she was only fit to trot! She’s elderly, and loves long walks, and Casper loves her dearly.’
It was obvious that Ivo loved her, too—and Casper. ‘I hope they’ll like me,’ said Serena. ‘I never had a dog; Father didn’t like them. Would they go walks with me?’
‘Of course. We’ll take them tomorrow afternoon and give you some idea of the country round us. I have to go to the hospital in the morning but I should be back for lunch; we can go after that. Now let us have supper— I’m famished.’
‘So am I.’
They sat at one end of the long oval table with its gleaming silver and glass. There was a low bowl of flowers at its centre. It looked like a bridal bouquet, but she was too shy to say so. It was Ivo who observed, ‘I see that Wim has produced a fitting floral tribute to the occasion. I expect Elly has thought up something equally bridal for us to eat.’
Certainly it was a meal to grace the occasion. Globe artichokes with a truffle dressing, grilled salmon with potato straws, and to crown these baked Alaska. And, of course, champagne.
Serena was hungry, and she did full justice to Elly’s cooking. It was late now, but the food and drink had given her a new lease of life. To sit over their coffee talking seemed a splendid idea—only one Ivo didn’t share. He said kindly, ‘You must be tired; do go to bed. Have you everything you want?’
Serena said politely, ‘Yes, thank you. At what time is breakfast?’
‘Oh, eight o’clock, but I shall be gone before then. Ask Wim for anything you want. I’ll see you at lunch.’
Serena got up from the table and he went to open the door for her. And as she passed him he put a hand on her shoulder.
‘Sleep well, my dear. Tomorrow we shall have time to talk. I’ll take you round the house and answer all your questions.’ He bent and kissed her, a light kiss but at least a kiss… ‘You were a beautiful bride,’ he told her.
No one had ever called her beautiful before. She said soberly, ‘And I’ll be a good wife, Ivo.’
She slept soundly in her lovely room, to be awakened by Lien with early-morning tea. When she had showered and dressed and gone down the stairs there was Wim, waiting to escort her to a small room behind the drawing room where her breakfast was laid at a small table by a window. Casper and Trotter were there, too, to take up their places each side of her chair, looking expectant. She wasn’t sure if they were allowed to be fed at the table, but since there was no one to see they shared her toast…
When she had finished she wandered into the hall, and Wim appeared silently to tell her in his basic English that she might like to walk in the garden with the dogs or go to the drawing room where he had laid out the English newspapers. There would be coffee at half past ten, he added, and lunch at half past twelve when Mr van Doelen would be back home.
Serena thanked him, feeling rather like a visitor no one quite knew what to do with, and went into the garden. A very large garden, she was to discover, stretching away in all directions and bounded by a high brick wall. She explored it thoroughly, with the dogs trotting to and fro, and she admired what she saw. Velvety lawns, herbaceous borders, a rose garden and flagged paths between lavender hedges. And, separated by another brick wall, a kitchen garden, filled with orderly rows of vegetables. There were fruit trees too, and stooping over a bed of lettuce was old Domus. He straightened up when he saw her and she wished him good morning, wishing she could talk to him. She must learn to speak Dutch as quickly as possible…
She went back into the house presently, and had her coffee and glanced through the papers, but she soon got up, feeling restless, and went into the hall and began opening doors. The drawing room, the dining room, the little room where she had had breakfast. That left two more doors as well as the baize door leading to the kitchen quarters. Ivo’s study. She didn’t go in, only stood at the door looking at the great desk and the chair behind it, the shelves of books, the powerful reading lamp. This was where he would come to work, she supposed, undeterred by the household’s activities. She closed the door and crossed the hall to the last door. The library. Its windows overlooked the side of the house and the walls were lined with books.
She walked slowly, looking at titles, Dutch, German, French and, thankfully, plenty of English. And not only medical tomes, but a fine assortment of the English classics and a dozen or more modern bestsellers. There were magazines on one of the library tables, and comfortable chairs in which to sit and read them. Of one thing she was certain: she would never be bored; a lovely old house, a magnificent garden, the dogs and the friendly people who lived there… And Puss, of course, already placidly at home.
She perched on the library steps, studying the spines of the books above her, and was there when Ivo came in.
She put the weighty volume she was holding back in its place and got off the steps. She said a little breathlessly, ‘You don’t mind? It’s such a beautiful library.’
He crossed the room. ‘Of course I don’t mind; it is your library, too. You like books and reading?’
‘Yes, but I’ve never had much spare time. Have you had a busy morning?’
‘Yes, and I shall be busy for a week or two. But I intend to find the time to take you round the hospital; everyone is anxious to meet you.’
‘Oh—you mean the medical staff and the nurses?’
‘Yes, and their wives and husbands. But it will be just the medical staff to start with. In three or four days’ time, if you would like that.’ He added, ‘Perhaps you would like to go shopping? You could go in with me tomorrow morning and you can have the day to yourself.’
She thought of the few pounds she had in her purse. He was suggesting in the nicest possible way that she needed the kind of clothes his wife would be expected to wear.
He watched her telltale face, and added in a matter-of-fact way, ‘I’ve an account at several of the bigger shops, and I’ll let you have an advance on your allowance.’
He strolled across the room towards the door. ‘Shall we have lunch? Then we’ll go for a walk with the dogs. Time enough to show you round the house after tea.’
Serena hadn’t moved. ‘I haven’t any money of my own, you know that, but I don’t like taking your money, Ivo.’
He leaned against the door he was holding open. He said in a level voice, ‘You are my wife, Serena. You will share everything I possess; you will buy all the clothes you want and anything else you fancy.’ He smiled then. ‘I’m proud to have you as my wife and I want you to know that. And let us have no more nonsense about money. Buy what you like and send me the bills.’
‘Oh, well,’ said Serena, ‘put like that it seems very sensible. Thank you, Ivo.’
They lunched together, talking about this and that in the comfortable manner of old friends, and presently took Casper and Trotter for a walk. They went through the village and Serena tried not to mind being stared at. She was, she supposed, a bit of an event in the quiet little place. They stopped to speak to several people, who beamed at her and shook hands and laughed a great deal with Ivo. But once clear of the village he took her down a narrow lane with flat meadows on either side. There were the black and white cows she’d expected to see, and farms, widely spaced, with their great barns and a few sheltering trees.
‘Is all Holland like this?’ she wanted to know.
‘No, by no means. Limburg, in the south, is quite hilly, and in the north there is more space. Lakes, too. I go there in the summer and sail. I’ve a small farm in Friesland—a few sheep and cows, hens and ducks and geese. Will you like that?’
‘Oh, yes, but I like your house here. It’s old, isn’t it? It feels like home…’
He took her arm. ‘It is home, Serena. Our home.’
He whistled to the dogs a
nd they turned back, going through the village again where they were stopped by even more people.
Serena, shaking hands and smiling and murmuring, hoped that they approved of her.
They drove into Den Haag early the next day, and Ivo parked the car and walked her round the shopping streets, pointing out where she could have coffee and lunch, showing her how she could get to the hospital if she needed to.
‘But you should be all right,’ he told her casually, ‘I should be ready by four o’clock. Just tell the porter who you are and they’ll tell me that you’re there.’ He gave her a quick look. ‘You’ll be all right on your own?’
Serena, her purse stuffed with notes, assured him that she would.
The arcade opposite the big departmental store looked promising. She went along its length, looking in all the windows—boutiques, jewellers, smart cafés, magnificent china and glass. She retraced her steps and paused at a boutique halfway down the arcade. There was a dress in the window, its accompanying jacket thrown carelessly over a little gilt chair. Honey-coloured, a silk and wool mixture. Very plain and simply cut— ‘And very expensive,’ muttered Serena, opening the door.
It was a perfect fit. She paid its outrageous price from the roll of notes in her purse and went off in search of shoes. Which naturally led to the obligatory purchase of tights. She stopped for coffee then, before going into De Bijnkorf in search of undies and something to wear at home. Prudently making sure that Ivo’s account could be used by her, she went from one department to the other: simple dresses, skirts, tops, blouses, cardigans. She stopped for lunch then, since there was a restaurant there, and then went out into the street again. She had acquired a splendid wardrobe, although it was by no means complete. She needed a raincoat, and what about something for the evening? Ivo had said that he had friends. Presumably they would be asked out to dinner.
She began another round of the shops, not sure what she was looking for.
It stared her in the face from a shop window in another arcade. Pale pink silk and chiffon, simple, relying on the cut and the delicate colour. Its modest neckline and long tight sleeves were just right for dinner out or an evening with any of Ivo’s friends. She bought it, and went in search of high-heeled strappy sandals…
And, after that, ‘Enough’s enough,’ said Serena, and went to one of the smart cafés for a cup of tea. She would take a taxi to the hospital, she decided. She was drinking her second cup when Ivo sat down opposite to her at the little table.
‘I finished early,’ he told her, ‘and decided to come and give you a hand with your parcels.’ He glanced at the pile on the floor. ‘You have had a successful day?’
‘Oh, very, thank you. Would you like tea?’
‘It’s coming. Are you going to have one of these cakes?’
‘I’ve already had one…’
‘Then have another while I drink my tea. You found shopping easy? No language problems?’
‘No, none at all.’ She selected a mouthwatering confection of chocolate and whipped cream. ‘Have you had a busy day?’
‘Yes.’
She waited for him to say more, and when he didn’t she said, ‘I’m not just inquisitive; I’m really interested.’
He gave her a thoughtful look. ‘Yes? Then I shall get into the habit of boring you each evening with my day’s work.’
‘I shall like that.’ She finished her cake and they went together to where he had parked the car and drove back home, silent now, but it was the pleasant, companionable silence of old friends or a long-married couple. And that was what Ivo wanted, reflected Serena with a pang of sadness. But she had no reason to feel sad, she told herself, for he seemed content…
For the next few days she saw very little of him, for he spent them in Leiden and Utrecht, operating. He got home in the early evening, looking tired, so that she forebore from questioning him, but sat quietly with the wool and needles she had bought in Den Haag, intent on knitting a sweater for his Christmas present. True, that was some way off, but she was a slow knitter and the pattern was complicated.
She was rewarded one evening.
‘You are a very restful woman, Serena. I find myself thinking of you sitting there with your knitting when I’m confronted by an over-large clinic and you act upon me like a tranquilliser. I shall be back here in a couple of days. We will go round the hospital together so that you can meet everyone. You’re not bored? I’ve had to leave you alone…’
‘I couldn’t possibly be bored. Trotter and Casper take me for long walks, and I go to the kitchen each morning and Elly and I talk—about food and so on, with Wim helping out. I know quite a number of Dutch words already.’
‘You shall have lessons. I’ll arrange that for you. So, will you come with me on Friday morning?’
‘With pleasure. I’ve been longing to wear the dress I bought.’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘Only one? We must remedy that!’
‘Oh, I bought some skirts and tops, and another dress or two. I’m wearing one of them.’
‘And very nice, too,’ said Mr van Doelen quickly; he hadn’t noticed the dress, he saw only Serena’s face and her large dark eyes. As far as he was concerned she could be wearing a sack. He made a mental note to be more observant in the future.
When she joined him at the breakfast table on Friday morning he got up to pull out her chair and kiss her on her cheek. ‘You look delightful,’ he told her, and meant it. The simple dress suited her, and the pleasure of wearing it had added a sparkle to her eyes and pink to her cheeks.
‘Will it do?’ she asked anxiously. ‘There’s a jacket to go with it…’
‘It’s just exactly right.’ He must buy her a brooch, he thought, and some pearls—and there was that diamond necklace of his mother’s…
He took her straight to the consultants’ room behind the vast entrance, and just for a moment she panicked as he opened the door. The room appeared full of well-dressed men, all staring at her. But the moment was over. A tall grey-haired man and a small woman with a sweet face were smiling at her…
‘The hospital directeur,’ said Ivo, ‘and his wife. Duert and Christina ter Brandt—my wife, Serena.’
‘I’ve been dying to meet you,’ said Mevrouw ter Brandt, ‘well, we all have—I wanted to come and see you, but Duert said I must wait until you had settled in.’
Duert ter Brandt smiled at her and shook hands. ‘We are delighted that Ivo has married at last and we hope you will both be very happy. I’m sure you will soon have many friends.’
And after that she was led from one person to the next, smiling and murmuring politely and forgetting names as fast as she was told them. When the last introduction had been made they went from group to group while they drank coffee and ate little biscuits, and presently Serena found herself without Ivo, smiling at a man younger than the rest, who took her coffee cup from her and, standing in front of her, screened her from the others.
‘I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten your name,’ said Serena.
‘Dirk—you don’t need to know the rest of it. How is it that Ivo found you first? I’ve been looking for a girl like you all my life…’
He was being familiar, decided Serena, and wasn’t sure if she liked that. But it was rather fun to be chatted up—no one had ever done it before… She decided to ignore his remark and asked, ‘Are you a doctor or a surgeon?’
‘Doctor; I couldn’t aspire to the surgical heights of your husband.’ And, at her surprised look, ‘Only joking—he’s brilliant. Are you going to be happy here in Den Haag?’
‘Yes, of course. And we don’t live in Den Haag; our home is in the country.’
‘May I come and see you there?’
‘I’m sure we’ll both be delighted, but not just yet.’
She glanced round and caught Mevrouw ter Brandt’s eye. ‘I must speak to Mevrouw ter Brandt.’ She gave him a nod and a smile and crossed the room.
‘You must come to tea—and call me Christina; I’m years
older than you, but we’re both married to Dutch medical men so we have a lot in common.’ Christina smiled a little. ‘What did you think of Dirk Veldt? A great one for the ladies. Come to tea on Monday; get Ivo to bring you. You must meet the children. I’ve three—a girl and two boys.’
‘I’d like that very much, thank you.’
Serena felt an arm on her shoulders and Christina laughed. ‘Ivo, I’ve invited Serena to tea on Monday. Will you bring her? Come early—it is your clinic afternoon, isn’t it?’
‘Two o’clock not too early? May I collect her around five o’clock?’
They said goodbye then, and Duert ter Brandt shook hands once again and said kindly, ‘You must both come to dinner soon.’ He clapped Ivo on the shoulder. ‘You’re a lucky man, Ivo.’
He kissed Serena, and Christina gave her a hug. ‘Are you going round the hospital? We won’t keep you, then; it will take the rest of the morning.’
Which it did. But, since Serena was interested in everything she saw, that didn’t matter. Ivo took her home to lunch and then went back to work. ‘But I’m free tomorrow,’ he told her. ‘We’ll drive up to the farm.’
It was a cool, crisp morning when they left soon after breakfast the next day. He took the road through Alkmaar and across the great dijk, and once in Friesland turned away from the main road toward Sneek. There were lakes on all sides, and large farmhouses backed by vast barns, and the roads were mostly brick and narrow. Presently they reached a scattering of houses, too small for a village, and a mile or so further on Ivo turned in through an open gateway and stopped before a farmhouse standing back from the road.
A tall, thick-set man came round the corner of the house, calling a welcome, thumping Ivo on his shoulder and then shaking hands with Serena, and a moment later he was joined by a woman, almost as tall as he. ‘Abe and Sien,’ said Ivo, ‘who run the farm for me.’
They all went indoors then, to drink coffee and eat little sugary biscuits, with Ivo patiently translating the conversation to Serena. It was all about sheep and cows and poultry, and presently she was taken to see the livestock before going back to the kitchen to sit at the table and eat sausage and red cabbage and delicious floury potatoes. And although she couldn’t understand a word Abe and Sien were saying, Serena enjoyed every moment of it.
