A Good Wife

by Betty Neels

  Ivo said, ‘I will wait here while you get your coat.’ He spoke pleasantly, but his eyes were cold. She had made him angry and she told herself that she was glad of it. If he wanted to quarrel she was quite willing…

  In the car, beside him, she said defiantly, ‘What a delightful evening. I did enjoy it. Didn’t you, Ivo?’ She added daringly, ‘Meeting so many people too.’

  He gave a grunt and didn’t speak again until they were home. In the hall, Serena yawned. ‘There’s coffee on the Aga if you want some, Ivo. I think I’ll go straight to bed.’ She turned as she reached the staircase. ‘Goodnight Ivo.’

  He was standing in the hall, looking at her. ‘You danced a good deal with Veldt.’ He spoke very quietly.

  ‘Yes.’ It seemed prudent to start climbing the staircase. ‘He’s a good dancer and great fun…’

  ‘Were you paying me back in my own coin, Serena?’ he asked blandly.

  ‘As a matter of fact I was. What’s sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander.’

  The look on his face didn’t exactly frighten her, but it sent her running up to her room at a fine rate.

  By the morning’s light she regretted every word she had said. Never mind that he had hurt her so that she actually ached with unhappiness. When they had married they had struck a bargain; she had known exactly what he had wanted and she had agreed to it—a calm partnership with no pretence of love, only friendship and liking and a comfortable knowing that they got on well together. And now she had shattered that.

  She got up and dressed and went down to breakfast, and found him standing by the open door. The dogs were in the garden and Puss was sitting by his feet.

  He turned to wish her a genial good morning and she said at once, ‘Oh, don’t be nice, Ivo. I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have said what I did last night. If you want to be angry I’ll deserve every word of it. And I only danced with Dirk Veldt to annoy you…’

  He turned from the door as the dogs came in. ‘My dear, Serena, why should I be angry? You may dance with whom you choose and say what you wish.’

  ‘Yes, that’s all very well, but that isn’t what we agreed, is it? We were to have a friendly marriage and not—not interfere. And you have every right to see your friends. She’s very beautiful…’

  ‘Ah,’ said Ivo, in such a strange voice that she looked at him again.

  ‘You believe that I am enjoying the resumption of a love affair?’ he went on bitingly. ‘We have been married a matter of a few weeks, Serena. If that is what you think of me then perhaps we should confine our feelings to the friendship to which you so often allude and avoid looking too closely at each other’s lives.’

  ‘Oh, Ivo,’ said Serena miserably.

  ‘Shall we have breakfast? It’s a splendid morning for a walk, and you can tell me what you thought of the reception.’

  He sounded his usual calm self again; the whole unfortunate episode was to be overlooked. Now she would never know about Rachel Vinke…

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  IT WAS still early when they started out with the dogs, and Serena, anxious to make amends, said, ‘We mustn’t be too long. I don’t know at what time Juffrouw Vinke is coming. I told Elly there would be a guest for lunch—it’s duckling and cherry sauce, but there’s one of Elly’s raised pies in case she doesn’t like duckling. And Domus let me have some strawberries from the greenhouse.’

  She fell silent, aware that she was babbling, and Ivo said, ‘Rachel is married. I said I would fetch her around noon. How are you getting on with your Dutch lessons?’

  It was a gentle snub; she had deserved it, she supposed. ‘Very well, I think, though the grammar is puzzling and I quite often miss out on the verbs—I mean, having to tack them onto the end of a sentence, one tends to overlook them.’

  ‘Well, you will have a short respite soon. I’m due at the hospital in London in just over a week. I have to go to Leeds too, but you will be happy with Nanny?’

  ‘Oh, yes, it will be lovely to see her again. I must find something to take her.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘Shouldn’t we be turning back? If you’re going to fetch Mevrouw Vinke…’

  He took her arm as they retraced their steps. ‘You are anxious to meet Rachel again? I don’t imagine that you have much in common.’

  ‘We’re both women,’ said Serena, and heard his rumble of laughter.

  Waiting for Ivo to come with their guest, Serena wandered around the drawing room, peering in the mirror beneath the windows, poking at her hair, putting on more lipstick and then rubbing it off again. A waste of time, she told herself. She had no hope of competing with someone as beautiful as Rachel.

  She told herself how right she had been as she went to welcome Rachel as she got out of the car—in white from head to toe. The simplicity of her dress owed its art to couture, and made Serena’s straw-coloured linen two-piece insignificant. And her make-up was faultless…

  Serena, very aware of her own shortcomings, greeted her with the social smile she had learnt, to cover her true feelings.

  ‘Such a lovely day,’ she observed. ‘Do come in. What can we get you to drink?’

  They had their drinks sitting by the window overlooking the ornamental pool at the back of the house, and Serena made small talk and didn’t look at Ivo. He was, as he always was, a perfect host, and it was impossible to tell from his manner whether Rachel was just a friend or someone much nearer than that. And over lunch Serena had to admit to herself that she quite liked Rachel; she was amusing and a good talker, and she had a warm and ready smile. And she was attractive…

  As they finished their coffee, Rachel said, ‘And now I must talk to you, Ivo. Serena does not mind?’

  ‘Not a bit.’ Serena summoned the smile again. ‘I’ll take the dogs for a run. You’ll stay for tea?’

  ‘I would have liked that, but I have a plane to catch…’

  She watched them go to Ivo’s study and whistled to the dogs. How long would they be? she wondered. And then set off at a brisk pace, trying to forget about them. But she was back in the house an hour later, sitting in the drawing room, her ears stretched to hear the study door open.

  They came into the drawing room presently; Ivo’s face showed no more than its usual calm, and Rachel was smiling widely.

  ‘That is all settled,’ she told Serena. ‘And now I must go back to my dear Jan. He will be so relieved that everything is settled. I don’t know what we would have done without Ivo’s help, first to put together his broken arms and legs and then to deal with all this tiresome lawsuit. But now at last it is—how do you say?—plain sailing.’

  But not for Serena, of course. She asked, ‘Your husband—he has been hurt in an accident?’

  ‘Ivo did not tell you? A car crash—not his fault. He has broken both his legs and both his arms. Can you imagine anything more terrible? And Ivo has put him together again. We knew he would, and he came to Madrid at once when I came to ask him—he and Jan are old friends, you see. And then he has arranged everything with Jan’s solicitors—it is to go to court, you see. Today I brought the last of the papers for Ivo to see and sign.’

  She flashed Serena a brilliant smile. ‘It is so like Ivo to do all this and say nothing.’

  She kissed Serena warmly. ‘When Jan is well again you must both come and stay with us. And now I must go, but I am glad that I have met you. You are just as Ivo described you.’

  Ivo had been standing at the window with his back to them. Now he turned round to say, ‘We had better leave, Rachel, we’re cutting it fine.’

  He looked at Serena then. ‘I should be back before dinner.’

  He touched her shoulder as they went out, but he didn’t kiss her.

  By the time he returned Serena was in a bad temper. He had deliberately misled her; there had been no reason why he couldn’t have explained about Rachel. Perhaps he had found it amusing. She ground her splendid teeth and tossed back a glass of sherry that she didn’t want.

  The moment he came through
the door she rounded on him, made reckless by a second glass of sherry and a strong sense of grievance.

  ‘You could have told me.’ Her voice was shrill, so she paused and started again. ‘About Rachel. It was beastly of you to let me think the things I did.’

  ‘And what did you think, Serena? Or shall we ignore your regrettable thoughts? And I didn’t tell you for the simple reason that you had already drawn your own conclusions.’

  He had crossed the room and come to stand before her, and suddenly gave a chuckle. ‘You’ve been at the sherry…’

  Which was just too much for her. ‘I hate you,’ said Serena in a choked voice, and raced out of the room and upstairs, where she banged her bedroom door shut, flung herself on the bed and burst into tears.

  Ivo stood for a while, looking at nothing and deep in thought. He had the look of a man who had made a delightful discovery. Presently he went to his dinner, requesting Wim to make sure that mevrouw should have a supper tray taken to her bedroom.

  ‘She has a severe headache,’ he told his elderly retainer, who went to the kitchen and told Elly that he was willing to bet his week’s wages on the master and missus being not on speaking terms for the moment.

  ‘It’ll blow over,’ said Elly. ‘Look at the times you and me have had words, and here we are after I don’t know how many years.’

  Wim took the supper tray from her and kissed her plump cheek. ‘Forty next year,’ he told her, and trod carefully upstairs to tap on Serena’s door.

  It was perhaps not very romantic to be hungry when one’s heart was breaking, but Serena polished off the contents of the tray and then, since there was nothing else to do and she had no intention of going back to the drawing room, lay in a hot bath until she was as pink as a lobster and went to bed. Where, rather to her surprise, she fell asleep at once.

  The thought of facing Ivo across the breakfast table was daunting, but she wasn’t a coward, and dressed in a patterned skirt and a cashmere top, she went downstairs.

  Ivo came in from the garden as she reached the breakfast table. His good morning was friendly, as was his enquiry as to her headache. ‘You slept well?’

  ‘Like a log,’ said Serena, ‘and I didn’t have a headache, only a bad temper!’

  He passed her the toast. ‘One of the things I like about you, my dear, is your honesty, so perhaps you will set my mind at rest about something you said. That you hated me…’

  He was staring at her across the table, not smiling, but not angry either.

  ‘No, I don’t hate you,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry I said that, but I was cross.’

  He smiled at her. ‘So you were…’

  ‘Are you never cross, Ivo? I mean wanting to shout at someone?’

  ‘Not cross, but angry. Yes, I can be angry, but self-control is something one learns quite quickly in the medical profession. I’ll be home for lunch and I have to visit an old patient in the afternoon. Would you like to come with me?’

  ‘Oh, yes, I would. In Den Haag?’

  ‘No—an old lady who lives in Leiden.’ He was sitting back in his chair and Puss jumped onto his knees, ignoring the dogs at his feet. He looked the picture of a happily married man. Something which he confidently expected to be, given the patience to wait for Serena to discover that she was a happily married woman…

  They were back on their old friendly footing, thought Serena, happily going to the kitchen to discuss the day’s meals with Elly.

  Her Dutch was improving. She knew the names of their foods now, and could add a few words to them, and Elly never smiled at her accent or her mistakes so that her morning visit was a pleasure. And, that settled, she took the dogs for their walk and went back presently to write a letter to Nanny with Puss curled on her lap.

  It was a short drive to Leiden—ten miles or so—and since they were on the motorway there wasn’t much to see, but when they reached Leiden Serena found plenty to look at and admire. When Ivo stopped in a narrow street beside a canal, with a row of small gabled houses facing it, she exclaimed with delight. The houses were indeed old, leaning against each other, each gable different. They presented a pristine appearance, with shining paintwork and gleaming windows.

  She crossed the cobbles with Ivo and stood beside him as he banged the heavy doorknocker, which was opened almost immediately by a stout woman with screwed up grey hair and very bright blue eyes. She broke into speech when she saw Ivo, shook hands with them both and ushered them inside.

  The hall was tiny, with a steep, narrow staircase facing the door and a half-open door to one side. The room beyond was small and crowded with furniture, and every flat surface was covered by photo frames and china ornaments. And sitting in the middle of it was a very small old lady, dressed severely in black. She had a round face and small dark eyes, a little beaky nose and white hair, piled high.

  Ivo went to kiss her cheek and then introduced Serena, who shook a hand as thin and light as a bird’s claw and murmured a greeting in her careful Dutch. The old lady looked her up and down and had a great deal to say to Ivo. Whatever it was made him laugh, and he drew a chair forward for Serena. ‘Mevrouw Boldt says you are as pretty as a picture, Serena. You will not mind if we speak Dutch? I must ask her questions about her health. She worked for my mother years ago, and had an accident recently and broke her leg and hip. I just need to check them.’

  So Serena sat quietly, listening to Ivo’s quiet voice, watching his calm face, wondering if he would ever love her. And presently the woman who had admitted them came in with a tea tray. The china cups and saucers were very small, and the tea was weak, without milk or sugar, but there was a plate of little sugary biscuits. Serena sipped her tea, making it last, and nibbled a biscuit. She had a nasty feeling that there wouldn’t be second cups and she was right.

  Ivo had finished his talk with Mevrouw Boldt, and the conversation became general, with Serena’s faltering Dutch smoothly helped out by Ivo, who translated the old lady’s questions to her and popped in the right word when Serena got stuck with her replies. But the old lady seemed to like her, and when they got up to go she was invited to kiss the paper-thin cheek.

  ‘You are to come with me again,’ said Ivo, bidding the woman who had admitted them goodbye.

  In the car he said, ‘Mevrouw Boldt is over eighty, but she lives in the manner of her youth and has no intention of changing her ways. She was with my parents for more than fifty years and retired here with her husband, who was our gardener. Until she fell and broke a hip a year or so ago she was very active.’

  ‘So you keep an eye on her?’

  ‘Yes. You liked her little house?’

  ‘It’s charming—rather a lot of furniture and ornaments…’

  ‘Her possessions, much treasured.’

  ‘Do you visit her often?’

  ‘As often as I can. You’ll come with me again?’

  ‘Yes, please. And perhaps by then my Dutch will be better.’

  ‘You do very well, Serena.’ He turned to smile at her and she smiled back, just for the moment happy.

  They went to England soon after that, and although Serena was glad to be seeing Nanny once more, she hated leaving the dogs and Puss; she hated leaving the lovely old house too, and her friends.

  ‘The change will do you good,’ said Christina, ‘and you can do some shopping for me.’

  Ivo took the car, since he had to go to Leeds as well as London, and they crossed from the Hoek and then drove from Harwich.

  It was nice to be in England again, reflected Serena, though at the same time she wished that they were back in Holland. But Nanny’s welcome was so warm that she forgot that for the moment. The little mews cottage offered a cosy welcome, and London could look delightful on a fine day.

  Ivo went at once to the hospital, leaving her to gossip with Nanny and unpack, and she didn’t see him again until the evening. Over dinner he told her that he would be at the hospital all day. ‘Have you any plans?’ he wanted to know. ‘I’m sorry to lea
ve you on the first day…’

  ‘I’m going shopping,’ said Serena, ‘for Christina and for me. Do you want anything?’

  ‘No, thanks. I’ll try and get tickets for the theatre. What would you like to see?’

  They decided on a musical. ‘And we might have a night out after I get back from Leeds.’

  She realised after the first day that she wasn’t going to see much of him. It wasn’t just his operating lists at the hospital, there were clinics, and on several evenings meetings with his colleagues. But at least she saw him at breakfast, and for dinner in the evening. And they had their evening at the theatre. When she had been living at home no one had taken her to the theatre—indeed, no one had taken her anywhere. The visit to the theatre was a treat, and she enjoyed it with the whole-hearted delight of a child. Ivo, watching her rapt face, saw almost nothing of the show.

  It was on the next day that he went to Leeds. He would be gone for three days, he told her, dropping a light kiss on her cheek, getting into his car and driving away.

  Serena smiled and waved, and then went up to her room and had a good cry. She wasn’t sure why she cried, but she felt better for it, and after mopping her face and putting on fresh make-up she went in search of Nanny. They would go shopping, she insisted. She needed several things, and surely Nanny, too, had things to buy?

  And Nanny, taking a look at Serena’s pink nose, agreed immediately.

  They spent most of the day at Harrods, where Nanny expressed astonishment at the prevailing fashions and then spent happy hours in the food hall. Serena bought sweets for Christina’s children, and a very beautiful scarf for Christina, and then searched for suitable gifts to take to Wim and Elly and the rest of the staff. And for old Domus she found a lavender bush, small enough to go in the car.

  They went back home, tired but pleased with their efforts, and for her part Serena was glad that one day away from Ivo was already nearly over.

  She and Nanny were in the kitchen when he came home. Nanny was making cakes and Serena was sitting on the kitchen table, running a finger round the remains of the cake mixture in the bowl. She was sampling it from one finger when he walked in.