by Betty Neels
He was away very early on Monday morning to take a teaching round, leaving her to finish the cards and buy the rest of the presents. When he got home in the evening she saw that he was tired. She gave him a second look—not tired perhaps, but worried about something. And when he wanted to know how she had spent her day she told him in her quiet voice.
His eyes were on her face. ‘How restful you are, Arabella,’ he observed, and when she looked up, surprised, he asked, ‘Have the dogs been good?’
The party was the next day. Anxious to look her best, she creamed her face, did her nails, washed her hair and took another look at the dress.
When the day arrived she bade him goodbye after they had had breakfast and assured him that she would have a late tea ready for him before they needed to dress, and then she went off to the kitchen to talk to Mrs Turner and take the dogs for their romp in the garden. Glowing from the cold air, back indoors, she went upstairs to Titus’s room to lay out his clothes for the evening only to be interrupted by a peal on the doorbell. She was at the head of the staircase when Mrs Turner opened the door and after a moment stood aside to admit someone. Geraldine Tulsma.
Arabella, hurrying down to the hall, saw that she had a suitcase with her and her heart sank.
Geraldine was in complete command of the situation. ‘Here I am, Arabella. I have a day or two free and I know Titus will be delighted to see me.’ She shook hands. ‘We have known each other too long to stand on ceremony.’
‘He’s at the hospital,’ said Arabella and added belatedly, ‘How nice to see you, Geraldine.’
‘He’ll be home for lunch?’
Arabella led the way into the drawing room. ‘Well, no, he won’t be back until about five o’clock—we’re going to a party this evening...’
‘I’ll come with you. We’re bound to get a chance to talk there—you know what parties are, all noise and chatter, ideal for a quiet discussion. There’s a theory I intend to tell him about...’
‘How nice,’ said Arabella, and felt foolish. ‘Do sit down and have some coffee. I’ll tell Mrs Turner to get a room ready for you.’
It was like being in a bad dream. Geraldine might despise her as a woman but Arabella was an audience; her ears were ringing by the end of the afternoon. Geraldine had a splendid opinion of herself and liked people to know it.
I don’t think Titus will be pleased, thought Arabella as she heard the front door being opened.
CHAPTER EIGHT
ARABELLA GOT UP and went into the hall, anxious to tell Titus that Geraldine was there, but Geraldine came with her, hurrying past her and taking Titus’s hand in hers.
‘I’ve surprised you,’ she exclaimed in her vibrant tones. ‘I have a few days off and I came at once, knowing that you would be delighted to talk to someone with a mind compatible with your own.’
The doctor shook the hand on his arm and handed it back. Looking at him, there was no knowing what his feelings might be. He said pleasantly, ‘This is indeed a surprise, Geraldine.’
‘I knew that you would be delighted.’ She waited impatiently as he crossed the hall to kiss Arabella’s cheek. ‘I hear there’s a party tonight. I’m sure no one will mind if I come along too.’
Arabella found her voice and was pleased to hear how pleasant it sounded. ‘I’ll phone, shall I, Titus? I’m sure Geraldine will be welcome. After all, there will be so many people there that one more won’t be noticed.’
He hid a smile. ‘Yes, by all means do that, my dear. Now, if you will forgive me I have some phoning to do. I’ll be in my study if you should want me, Arabella.’
Geraldine looked disappointed. ‘I suppose it is necessary for him to go away,’ she observed to Arabella. ‘I will go to my room and unpack and rest until he has finished what he has to do.’
Arabella, the epitome of the perfect hostess, led the way upstairs, offered refreshment, an extra blanket and the assurance that she would be waiting to let Geraldine know the moment that Titus was free.
‘I hope those dogs will be quiet,’ said Geraldine. ‘I do not care for them. And you have a cat...’
‘Yes,’ said Arabella equably, ‘we both like animals.’
She went downstairs, her eyes sparkling with rage. It wouldn’t have mattered so much if Titus had looked annoyed, even taken aback at Geraldine’s appearance. There had been no expression on his face— She paused. Yes, there had. Faint amusement. She couldn’t think why.
She went to the phone then, to explain about their unexpected guest, and was assured that their hostess would be delighted to see any friend of Titus’s. ‘Friend,’ muttered Arabella through her teeth, and turned to find Titus in the doorway, watching her.
‘Geraldine’s very welcome,’ she told him airily. ‘I’ll just go and talk to Mrs Turner.’
That lady’s feathers were ruffled—the nice little dinner for two would have to be stretched to three. ‘Coming unexpected like that,’ she grumbled to Arabella. ‘How long will she be stopping, ma’am?’
‘Well, not long, I think. She said something about a few days...’
Mrs Turner gave the sauce she was stirring a look which should have curdled it.
Titus was in the drawing-room when she went back there, stretched out in his armchair with Percy on his knee and the dogs drowsing by the fire. Arabella eyed him peevishly. ‘I’ll go and tell Geraldine that you’re out of the study—she asked me to let her know. I’m sure you won’t want to miss any time with her!’
She flounced to the door to be halted by his quiet voice. ‘Am I mistaken in thinking that you are making it as easy as possible for Geraldine and me to be together, Arabella?’
‘Well, that’s what you want, isn’t it? I hadn’t noticed you discouraging her.’ She swept out of the room and went to tap on their guest’s door.
Dressing for the party, Arabella reflected that if Titus and Geraldine had wanted to be together she had given them every opportunity. After a token appearance with their guest she had excused herself on some household pretext and left them alone. ‘And I hope they enjoy each other’s society,’ she observed to Percy, sitting on the end of her bed, watching her as she dressed.
Contrary to the normal desires of a woman in love, Arabella ignored the silver-grey dress and picked out a dress which hadn’t been designed to catch a man’s eye at all—an elegant mouse-brown silk crêpe, guaranteed to be eclipsed by the other gowns worn at the party. She had overlooked the fact that it fitted her quite delightfully and by its very quiet elegance would stand out in a crowd.
Her hair in a French pleat, her face nicely made up, she went down to the drawing-room to find Titus already there. He got up when she went in and took stock of her. ‘Charming.’ He took a box from his pocket. ‘I would like you to wear this, Arabella...’
He had gently unclasped the pearls around her neck and fastened a diamond necklace in its place. He didn’t say anything and after a moment she crossed to the great mirror over the fireplace and took a look. It was a delicate affair, the diamonds set in small flower-like sprays in gold, the necklace a series of fine gold loops between each spray. It looked like a spangled spider’s web. She touched it gently. ‘It’s old...’
‘Yes. It has been in the family for a great many years and is handed down from one bride to the next.’
She looked at his reflection in the mirror. ‘So of course it is right and proper that your wife should wear it this evening.’ She turned on him, her cheeks very pink. ‘We have to keep up appearances, do we not?’
He had gone rather white. ‘If that is how you choose to look at it...’
The door opened and Geraldine came in, wearing another floating chiffon creation in vivid pink.
‘What a charming dress,’ said Arabella. ‘So—so colourful, don’t you agree, Titus?’
‘Extremely so.’
>
Geraldine viewed her opulent person with satisfaction. ‘One doesn’t want to look drab...’ She smiled at Arabella. ‘Time enough to dress in brown and black and grey when one is old. Are we likely to meet anyone interesting this evening?’
‘I’m sure you will meet someone to interest you,’ said Titus smoothly.
Arabella added sweetly, ‘You can always fall back on Titus.’
A remark which earned her a cold stare from her husband.
The party was in full swing when they arrived. Arabella, Titus’s firm hand steering her from group to group, smiled and shook hands and murmured party talk, all the while aware that breathing down her neck was Geraldine, intent on keeping as close to Titus as possible. If he minded this, there was no sign of it and presently, after the dancing had started and he had had the first dance with Arabella, he handed her over to an eager young man and as she danced away she saw him bending his head to hear what Geraldine was saying.
She saw them dancing together presently and then lost sight of them as she went from one partner to the other—a small graceful girl, the brown dress a splendid foil for the diamonds around her neck.
There was a buffet supper and briefly she found Titus with her again but, since there were half a dozen other people clustered around the table, talking was out of the question—besides, what did she have to say?
She danced for the rest of the evening while she laughed and talked and wondered if Titus would ever fall in love with her. Several of the men there had expressed their pleasure in her company, which was more, she reflected unfairly, than Titus had ever done. Memory could be a very convenient thing to lose when one was angry and unhappy and, she had to admit, jealous of the tiresome Geraldine.
Back at the house in the very early hours of the morning, that lady showed an alarming tendency to sit about discussing the evening. Arabella wondered what she should do. Urge the lady to go to bed? Go to bed herself and leave her with Titus? Make some graceful remark and sweep Geraldine upstairs with her? She might not go...
It was Titus who said presently, ‘Well, I’ve some work to finish. I’ll say goodnight, Geraldine.’ He kissed Arabella very deliberately. ‘I won’t disturb you, my dear.’
Arabella saw Geraldine’s instantly alert face. ‘Oh, I’m a light sleeper, Titus—I dare say I’ll still be awake,’ she uttered in a voice dripping with sweetness while she glared at him.
Percy was at the top of the stairs, waiting for her.
‘I believe cats to be dirty animals,’ said Geraldine, sweeping past him.
‘Have you ever watched a cat washing itself? A pity some humans aren’t as thorough.’ Arabella saw her guest to her bedroom door, wished her goodnight and, gathering up Percy, went to her own room.
The house was very quiet. She undressed, put on her dressing-gown and, bidding Percy stay where he was on the bed, tiptoed downstairs again. Bassett and Beauty would be in the kitchen; she always went to see them before she went to bed.
They were snoozing in their baskets but they woke as she went into the warm room. She bade them goodnight, sitting on the floor between them, an arm round Bassett’s small body and the other around Beauty’s massive neck. The day had been horrid and she was glad it was all over.
‘Though mind you,’ said Arabella, ‘tomorrow may be a great deal worse.’
Presently she crept back through the house and up the stairs, unaware that Titus had opened his study door and was watching her.
* * *
Titus was getting ready to leave the house when she went down to breakfast. ‘Geraldine not with you?’ he wanted to know.
‘She fancied breakfast in bed,’ said Arabella, matter-of-factly. ‘Did you want to see her? Shall I give her a message?’
His look made her feel uncomfortable. Was it amusement? What had he to be amused about?
‘Would you tell her that I have arranged a visit to the Royal College of Physicians? Eleven o’clock—the main door. I’ll be home some time after five o’clock, Arabella.’ He turned at the door. ‘Did I tell you how charming you looked last night?’
He had gone before she could think of a reply to that, which was as well for she was fuming at the thought of him and Geraldine strolling round the Royal College of Physicians. She was vague as to what functions were held there or for what purpose one would visit it—sufficient that the pair of them were going to spend the morning there and probably have lunch together afterwards...
She went upstairs to give Geraldine the message, noting with satisfaction that while her guest when fully clothed gave the appearance of a magnificent figure, in bed she was plain fat. She probably wore a strongly built foundation with bones...
‘I shall be out to lunch,’ said Geraldine, without bothering to thank Arabella for the message. She took a bite of toast. ‘Titus enjoys my company.’ She slid a sly glance in Arabella’s direction. ‘But of course you know about that.’
Arabella sat down in a pretty little armchair by the window. ‘No, I don’t—at least, not your version. Do tell?’
‘Many men have loved me,’ declared Geraldine smugly, ‘but there is only one whom I wish to marry and that is Titus—he must have told you that he wanted to marry me?’ She didn’t wait for an answer, which was just as well. ‘But I was a silly girl. I wished to make my mark in the medical world and so I continued to refuse him—each time he came to Leiden I would say no. I was wrong, of course—two brilliant minds such as ours are meant to become one. I cannot blame him for marrying you—there is nothing about you which could come between us. You are of no account; you are not clever, nor are you pretty. A very nice person, I am sure,’ she added graciously, ‘therefore I have no feelings of jealousy about you. You are Titus’s wife but of course he has no love for you, that is obvious to my eyes—the eyes of a woman who loves him.’
Arabella found her voice. She could stand no more. ‘How very interesting—but I mustn’t keep you talking or you will be late. Have you finished your breakfast? I’ll take the tray. Mrs Turner is busy and I’m going downstairs anyway.’ She added politely, ‘Do you know how to get to this place.’
‘No.’
‘No, nor do I. I should take a taxi or ask a policeman.’
She was in the garden with Percy and the dogs when Geraldine called to say, ‘I am going now,’ and added, ‘I shall be back during the afternoon.’
Arabella went to the front door with her, wished her a delightful day and closed the door after her. She would feel better if she had a nice quiet cry. She leaned against the door and sniffed and snivelled and sobbed, and then went and washed her face, powdered her pink nose and drank the coffee Mrs Turner brought her, carefully avoiding looking at her swollen eyes and ill-disguised nose.
‘That woman,’ said Mrs Turner viciously to Betty, one of the girls who came in daily to help. ‘I’d like to get my hands on her. The doctor must be out of his mind. And don’t you remember what I’ve just said, or breathe a word, or I’ll take my rolling pin to you!’
Arabella took the dogs into the park and came back for lunch, which she pushed around her plate and didn’t eat. There was no sign of Geraldine but she hadn’t expected there to be. She got into her outdoor things again, told Mrs Turner that she was going shopping and would be back for tea, and let herself out of the house.
She had no idea where she wanted to go. A cruising taxi came along and she hailed it and said, ‘Oxford Street,’ because it was the first place she thought of. There were lights there and the pavements were thronged with people doing their Christmas shopping. She walked slowly, stopping to look at the gaily dressed windows, buying several things she neither needed nor liked particularly—a scarf which was of a colour she never wore, socks with Father Christmas and his reindeer embroidered on them, which Titus would receive with outward pleasure and never wear, and a pair of outsize earrings, glittering
with imitation jewels, dangling almost to her shoulders. When she got home she put them all carefully in a drawer in her bedroom. The scarf at least would be just right for Betty, who loved bright colours. The socks she buried under a pile of undies but the earrings she put on. They looked absurd and she turned her head to and fro watching them swing and glitter. She kept them on and went downstairs to have her tea in the animals’ company.
Mrs Turner brought the tea tray. ‘That Dr Tulsma came back an hour ago. Said she needed to rest. Shall I tell her the tea’s ready?’
‘Please, Mrs Turner.’
Geraldine joined her five minutes later and Arabella handed her her tea, offered the cakes and enquired as to her day.
‘A splendid day,’ said Geraldine loudly. ‘I have never enjoyed myself so much—so much to talk about and a delicious lunch. I do not know how I am going to tear myself away from you...’
‘Oh, do you have to go back shortly?’ Arabella did her best not to sound delighted.
‘My dear Arabella, duty calls and someone in my position cannot ignore that. I go on an evening flight. I rang for a taxi just before you returned home.’
‘Rang for a taxi?’ repeated Arabella. ‘You mean you’re on the point of leaving now?’
‘Indeed I am.’ She glanced at the clock. ‘In ten minutes or so.’
‘Can’t you wait for Titus? He’ll be so disappointed and I’m sure he would drive you to Heathrow.’
Geraldine put her hand on her ample bosom. ‘We have said goodbye. We have to be satisfied with these brief glimpses of each other—there will be other meetings.’
She went away to fetch her things and Arabella, rather dazed with the suddenness of it all, wished her goodbye and a safe journey.
‘You are quite a nice little thing,’ said Geraldine. ‘I can understand that Titus finds you exactly the kind of wife he needs—undemanding and allowing him to lead his own life and lacking in childish romantic notions. Goodbye, Arabella.’
She went out to the waiting taxi and Arabella shut the door on her for the second time that day. Mrs Turner, coming into the hall, took a look at her face. ‘I’ll make a nice pot of tea, ma’am, and you just sit down and enjoy it. It’s not my place to say so, but it’s nice to have the house quiet once more.’
