by Betty Neels
Florina found herself in the same room that she had had previously, bidden by Mrs Jolly to make haste and tidy herself, and, since Pauline was a little peevish and excited, would it be a good idea if she had her lunch in the child’s room? There was a small table there and perhaps Pauline would settle down and have a nice nap if someone was with her.
Which presently, was exactly what happened. Florina sat quietly where she was for a time, thinking about Sir William. She had been foolish to fall in love with him, although she could quite see that one couldn’t always pick and choose whom one loved, but their worlds were so far apart, her visit to the hospital had emphasised that…
She picked up her tray, carried it downstairs and stayed for a few minutes in the kitchen talking to Mrs Jolly. ‘You’ll need a breath of air,’ declared that lady. ‘I’ll bring you both up a nice tea presently and sit with Pauline while you have a quick walk. Sir William won’t be home before six o’clock.’
‘That’s kind of you, Mrs Jolly; perhaps I’ll do that. Pauline mustn’t read or watch television. I thought I’d read aloud to her before her supper.’
She went back through the baize door into the hall just as Jolly went to answer the front door. It was Wanda, who pushed past him and then stopped dead in her tracks as she caught sight of Florina.
‘What are you doing here?’ she demanded. Her blue eyes narrowed. ‘Up to your tricks again, are you? What a sly creature you are—the moment my back is turned.’
She had crossed the hall and was standing at the foot of the stairs so that Florina couldn’t get past her without pushing.
Florina, conscious that Jolly was hovering by the baize door, kept her temper. ‘Pauline had an accident; Sir William has brought her here so that she could go to the hospital for an X-ray—somebody had to come with her. She is upstairs asleep.’
Wanda didn’t answer, and Florina said politely, ‘I’m going upstairs to sit with her—if you wouldn’t mind moving…’
Wanda didn’t budge. She turned her head and said very rudely: ‘You can go back to the kitchen, Jolly.’ But he didn’t move, only glanced at Florina. She smiled and nodded to reassure him, and he went reluctantly away.
‘How long are you staying here?’ demanded Wanda.
‘Until Pauline is well enough to go back to Wheel House. Sir William will decide…’
‘Oh, Sir William, Sir William!’ gibed Wanda. ‘He’s the top and bottom of your existence, isn’t he? You’re such a fool too, just because he treats you decently and appears to take an interest in you—don’t you know that that is part of his work? Being kind and sympathetic—turning on the charm for hysterical mothers, listening to their silly whining about their kids.’
Florina interrupted her then. ‘That is not true and it’s a wicked thing to say! Sir William is kind and good and he loves his work. You can say what you like about me, but you are not going to say a word against him.’
Wanda burst out laughing. ‘Oh, lord, you’re so funny—if only you could see that plain face of yours.’ She said suddenly, seriously, ‘Do you know that we are to be married next week? Your precious Sir William didn’t tell you that, did he? But why should he? You are only his cook, and not for much longer, either.’
She turned away and sauntered towards the drawing-room. ‘You’d better get back upstairs and keep an eye on that child before she does something stupid.’
Florina went up the stairs without a word, shaking with rage and misery and, under those feelings, prey to first doubts. Wanda had sounded so sure of herself, and indeed, there was no reason at all why Sir William should tell her his plans. She went into Pauline’s room and sat down to think, thankful that Pauline was dozing. Her head remained obstinately empty of thoughts; it was a relief when the little girl wakened and demanded to be read to. So Florina read The Wind in the Willows, until Pauline declared that she would like her tea.
‘I’ll pop down and get us a tray, love,’ promised Florina. The house was quiet when she went downstairs. There was still some time before Sir William would return, perhaps she would be able to think a few sensible thoughts by then.
She was in the hall when the drawing-room door opened and Wanda came out.
‘Had time to think?’ she wanted to know. ‘Not that it will make any difference; only a fool like you would be so stupid…’
The street door opened and Sir William asked quietly. ‘Who is stupid?’
Florina had a cowardly impulse to turn and run back upstairs but quelled it; even Wanda had been taken by surprise. ‘Wanda, I didn’t expect to find you here…’
She shrugged that aside. ‘I’ll tell you who’s stupid,’ she said spitefully. ‘Your cook.’ She laughed. ‘She’s in love with you, William.’
He didn’t look at Florina. ‘Yes, I know.’ He spoke gently. ‘You haven’t told me why you are here. Shall we go into my study while you tell me?’
He still hadn’t looked at Florina, standing like a small statue, her face as stony as her person.
It was only when the door had been closed gently behind them that she moved. She went to the kitchen and fetched the tea tray, oblivious of the Jollys’ concerned faces, and only when Mrs Jolly offered to sit with Pauline so that she might have an hour or two to herself did she say in a wispy voice, ‘I’d rather stay with her, thank you so much, Mrs Jolly.’
She carried the tray back upstairs, saw to Pauline’s wants and poured herself a cup of tea. Mrs Jolly had gone to a lot of trouble with their tea; little scones, feather-light, mouth-watering sandwiches, small iced cakes—Florina, pleading a headache in answer to Pauline’s anxious enquiries as to why she didn’t eat anything, plunged into talk. There was plenty to say about Bobby and the cats, and school, and whether would Nanny remember to feed the swans. Once tea was over Florina got out The Wind in the Willows again and began to read in her quiet voice.
She was interrupted by Sir William, who sauntered in, embraced his daughter and said in a perfectly normal voice, ‘I’ll sit with Pauline for a while, Florina. I dare say you would like a breath of air. I have to go out this evening, but I shall be back after dinner— I should like to talk to you then.’
She kept her eyes on his waistcoat. Her ‘Very well, Sir William,’ was uttered in what she hoped was a voice which showed no trace of a wobble.
She went out because she could think of nothing else to do. A nice quiet cry in her bedroom would have eased her, but if she cried her nose remained regrettably pink for hours afterwards and so did her eyelids.
She marched briskly, unheeding of her surroundings for half an hour, and then she turned round and marched back again. The exercise had brought some colour into her white face, but her insides were in turmoil. She would have given a great deal not to have to see Sir William later that evening; she could, of course, retire to bed with a migraine, only if she did he would undoubtedly feel it his duty to prescribe for her. ‘Don’t be a coward,’ she muttered as she rang the doorbell to be admitted by a silently sympathetic Jolly. ‘Sir William has just gone out, Miss Florina; he hopes to be back by nine o’clock. Dinner will be at half-past seven in the small sitting-room. Mrs Jolly would like to know if she can help in any way with Pauline.’
‘We’ve given her a great deal of extra work as it is. I’ll go up to her and settle her down before dinner. Wouldn’t it be less trouble if I were to join you and Mrs Jolly?’
‘Sir William’s orders, Miss Florina—I dare say he thinks that after the exciting time that you’ve had you could do with some peace and quiet.’
Pauline was tired at any rate; she ate her supper, submitted to being washed and having a fresh nightie, and declared sleepily that she was quite ready to go to sleep. Florina kissed her goodnight, left a small table lamp burning and went away to tidy herself. She had no appetite, indeed she was feeling slightly sick at the thought of the coming interview, but she would have to wear a brave face…
She managed to swallow at least some of the delicious food Jolly put before her, and
, since there was still some time before Sir William would return, she sat over her coffee, still at the table, so lost in a hotchpotch of muddled thoughts that she didn’t hear Sir William’s return.
When she looked up he was standing in the open doorway, watching her. She was so startled that her cup clattered into the saucer and she got clumsily to her feet, her head suddenly clear. She loved him; it didn’t matter that he knew, for what difference would that make? She had felt a burning shame in the hall listening to Wanda’s spite tearing her secret to shreds, but now she merely felt cold and detached, as though she was watching herself, a self who wasn’t her at all.
Sir William’s eyes hadn’t left her face. He said, ‘If you’ve finished your coffee, will you come to the study?’
She walked past him without a word, for really she had nothing to say. He opened the door and she went past him and sat, very straight-backed and composed in the chair he offered her.
CHAPTER NINE
SIR WILLIAM sat down in his chair behind the desk and rather disconcertingly remained silent. He sat back, unsmiling, apparently deep in thought, which gave Florina time to admire his stylish appearance. He was wearing a dinner-jacket, beautifully tailored, and a plain dress-shirt of dazzling whiteness. Dinner with Wanda, thought Florina; somewhere wildly fashionable where all the best people went. Wanda would have been tricked out in the forefront of fashion—taffeta was in fashion, preferably in a vivid colour like petunia. She frowned—definitely not a colour for Wanda—ice blue, perhaps, or black…
She became aware that Sir William had said something and she murmured, ‘I’m sorry…I was thinking.’
Because he had nothing to say to that she gushed on, in terror of a silence between them. ‘Wanda— Miss Fortesque, you know—she looks her best in black or that very pale blue…’
Behind the gravity of his face she suspected that he was laughing, but all he said was, ‘Just for the moment, shall we leave her out of it?’ He leaned forward and put his elbows on the desk.
‘I think that you should go away for a time, Florina. You have had a tiresome few weeks.’ His eyes searched her face and he went on deliberately, ‘That is something which we don’t need to discuss. I have a colleague at the hospital, a Dutchman over here for a seminar. He will be returning home in a couple of days’ time and it so happens that the English girl who helps to look after his children is anxious to go off on holiday. It might suit you very well to take over from her for a few weeks?’
‘You don’t want me to be your cook?’ said Florina baldly.
He smiled faintly. ‘That is a difficult question to answer at the moment. The situation is such that I believe the best thing for you is to accept Doctor van Thurssen’s offer.’
Florina was feeling reckless; it didn’t matter any more what she said, in a day or two she would be gone and probably he hoped that once back in Holland she would find work and stay there.
‘You would like me out of the way?’ She spoke with deliberate flippancy.
‘Exactly, Florina.’ He sat back in his chair, staring at her. ‘You have no objection to going?’
‘I think it is a marvellous idea.’ She met his eyes, her own wide, holding back tears.
‘I’ll get Jolly to drive you back to Wheel House tomorrow so that you can pack your things; he will fetch you back in two days time so that you can travel with Doctor van Thurssen. Can you be ready to drive to the hospital with me in the morning—just before eight o’clock—so that you can meet him?’
‘Certainly, Sir William. Would you be kind enough to write me a reference?’
He looked surprised, so she added woodenly, ‘So that I can get another job.’ She got up. ‘If there is nothing else to discuss I should like to go to bed, Sir William.’
He got up at once and opened the door, bidding her goodnight in a calm fashion, they might have been discussing the menu for a dinner party. She went up to her room and sat down on the bed, a prey to a thousand and one thoughts, none of them at all pleasant. She had been so intent on preserving a cool front that she had forgotten to ask exactly what she would be expected to do—and was she to be paid or was this doctor merely doing Sir William a good turn? And for how long? Until this other girl came back? And then what? She could always go and stay with Tante Minna, but if she did that she would have to see Felix. Supposing she had refused Sir William’s offer, would he have given her notice? There was Pauline to consider too; she was so fond of the child and she thought that Pauline was fond of her. Sir William was behaving strangely; not at all what she would have expected of him. Suddenly the realisation that she wasn’t going to see him again once she had left the house was too much for her; there was no point in keeping a stiff upper lip with no one to see it; so she buried her face in the pillows and had a good cry.
She was up early after a night which had been far too long and wakeful, but Sir William was up even earlier, going soft-footed to his small daughter’s room. She was awake; he drew the curtains back and sat down on the bed.
‘Can you keep a secret?’ He wanted to know and when she nodded, he continued, ‘Florina is going away, and when I’ve explained why I think you’ll be very pleased…’
It didn’t take long and when he had finished, ‘Not so much as a breath or a hint,’ he warned her and submitted to her delighted hug before taking himself off down to his study, where he spent ten minutes or so on the telephone to Nanny. It was breakfast time by then; he was sitting at the table when Florina joined him, to carry on a polite conversation while she pushed food around her plate. He made no mention of their talk of the previous evening, for which she was thankful; she couldn’t have borne that.
‘I’ll drop you off at the main entrance,’ he told her as he drove to the hospital, and she nodded silently. In a few minutes now she would bid him goodbye; she had been to Pauline’s room before they had left the house but she had said nothing about leaving. She would have to do that presently, after she had seen Doctor van Thurssen, and since she was to leave with Jolly by ten o’clock it would have to be a hurried explanation. Just as well, perhaps.
Sir William drew up at the main doors and got out. ‘There’s no need…I can find my way…’ She was gabbling while she tried to think of something cool and dignified to say by way of goodbye.
Sir William took no notice, he took her arm and ushered her into the entrance hall and over to the porter’s lodge. Here he relinquished his grasp. ‘Benson will take you to Doctor van Thurssen.’ He nodded to the elderly porter, who came out of his lodge to join them. At least it would make her goodbye more easily said. She put out a hand and had it engulfed in Sir William’s firm grasp.
Conscious of Benson’s sharp eyes, she said gruffly. ‘Goodbye, Sir William. Thank you for arranging everything.’ It was a great effort to add, ‘I hope you will be very happy.’
She even managed a smile, rather shaky at the corners.
‘I’m quite certain that I shall be, Florina.’
He looked at Benson, who said at once, ‘This way, miss,’ and marched away towards a long passage at the back of the hall, so that she was forced to follow him. It took her every ounce of will-power not to turn round for a last glimpse of Sir William. He hadn’t said goodbye, she reflected on a spurt of anger; loving him had been a great waste of time and what a good thing that she was going away—right away, where there would be nothing to remind her of him and perhaps in time she would be able to forget what a fool she had made of herself over him. She went pink with shame just thinking about it, so that when Benson opened a door and ushered her into a large gloomy room he paused to say, ‘You’re out of breath, miss— I hurried too much, quite red in the face you are.’
Doctor van Thurssen was looking out of one of the windows, although there was nothing to see, only the bare brick walls of a wing of the hospital. He turned round as she went in, a man in his late thirties with sandy hair and a pleasant, rugged face. He was tall and stoutly built and his eyes were a clear light blue. He woul
d be from the north, she guessed, and remembered that she still knew no details of this job which had been thrust upon her.
He shook her briskly by the hand and spoke in Dutch. ‘This is very good of you, Miss Payne. I hope you don’t feel that you’ve been rushed into this; my wife really needs someone to help out with the children until our Nanny comes back.’
‘I’ll be glad to help, but I don’t know very much. Where do you live?’
‘Do you know Friesland? I have a practice in Hindeloopen, I’m also consultant at the children’s hospital in Leeuwarden. We have six children; the youngest is almost two years old, the eldest fourteen. Ellie, who looks after them, will be away for two weeks. I shall be driving back tomorrow, taking the car ferry from Harwich, if you could manage to be ready by then? You will, of course be given your air ticket to return, as to salary…’ He mentioned a generous sum and looked at her hopefully.
She liked him; six children seemed a lot, but the older ones wouldn’t need much done for them, and presumably there was other help in the house. She agreed at once, glad to have something solid to hold on to in a nebulous future.
She took a taxi back, for time was running out. Back at the house she hurried to Pauline’s room, rehearsing suitable things to say, but there was no need; Pauline said cheerfully, ‘Daddy told me you were to have a holiday and you are going to Holland. Will you bring me back some of those little almond biscuits—your aunt gave me some?’ She flung her arms tightly round Florina’s neck. ‘I shall miss you but Daddy says you must have some time to yourself because you’ve had too much on your mind. Were you very lost when Bobby ran away? Daddy said you couldn’t see the wood for the trees—it was a nasty wood, wasn’t it? All those brambles…’
‘Yes, darling. You’ll look after Nanny and the animals, won’t you?’ Florina got up off the bed and bent to kiss Pauline. ‘Jolly is waiting for me, I must go…’
