by Betty Neels
Which somehow made the whole escapade sound romantic and Emily a heroine and left Beatrix van Telle looking foolish. She smoothed away the incident with practiced ease, but the look she shot at Emily spoke volumes.
Emily blinked her one eye and said nothing at all.
Juffrouw van Telle didn’t stay long, and soon after she left, Mevrouw van Tecqx went too, giving a warm invitation to Emily to visit her at some early date as she went.
The three of them lunched together, but not before Lucillia had gone on her crutches to the dining-room with Dirk in close attendance, very pleased with herself and in high spirits. After the meal, she had insisted on going back again before Emily made her comfortable in her armchair by the fire.
‘Now you must go and rest,’ declared Lucillia. ‘Sebastian said so,’ and Emily went, aware that they wanted to be on their own and relieved too, for her head was aching, due, she felt sure, to frustrated rage at Beatrix van Telle’s rudeness. There was a soft woollen rug on the chest at the end of her bed, and she rolled herself thankfully into it after carefully folding back the coverlet, put her head on the pillows and fell instantly asleep.
She awoke to a twilight room, lighted by one bedside lamp. Mr van Tecqx had drawn up a little table close to her bed and arranged an easy chair beside it, in which he was sitting, and she peered at him for a few moments in disbelief.
‘Oh, good,’ he said cheerfully. ‘I thought we might keep each other company and have tea together. It would be unkind to intrude upon the two young people downstairs.’
A remark calculated to make Emily feel twice her age. She sat up and reached for her eye-shade.
‘No, don’t put it on; there’s no need, it won’t be the first black eye I’ve seen, nor the last. Is it any less painful?’
She felt at a disadvantage, cocooned in the rug. ‘Yes, thank you.’
‘Good.’ He got up and piled the pillows behind her, and scooped her up so that she was sitting up against them. It surprised her a little that he did it so expertly. He poured their tea too, and handed her a plate with speculaas, the special biscuits eaten around Christmas time.
‘Tomorrow, unless it’s wet, you should wrap up warmly and we will go for a walk in the town. I have to operate in Rotterdam in the morning and shall be back after lunch. Theo is coming over to see Lucillia in the afternoon, and a good brisk walk will do you good.’ He gave her another cup of tea. ‘You have sensible shoes? There is a good deal of frozen snow.’
All her shoes were sensible. She said rather stiffly, ‘I have stout shoes, and I should enjoy a walk.’ Then she forgot to be stiff. ‘I’m so glad Lucillia is happy with Dirk—I mean, they just sort of…’ She paused, seeking the right word.
‘Fell in love at first sight,’ finished Mr van Tecqx. ‘I hoped they would.’
‘You mean you arranged it—that they should meet?’
He smiled and looked smug and modest at the same time, and she suspected he was amused. ‘My dear girl, one doesn’t interfere with fate. I merely asked Dirk to come to tea.’ He got up. ‘Which reminds me—Lucillia has begged to stay downstairs for dinner; would you mind very much if you settle her for the night later than usual? I hope you will feel able to join us. After a hard day in theatre I do not feel that I can play gooseberry without support.’
He wandered to the door. ‘I hear that Beatrix van Telle was rude to you—unwittingly, I am sure. You must forgive her.’
‘Of course, Mr van Tecqx. I dare say I would have done the same thing in her place.’
‘Now there you are entirely wrong, Emily.’
After he had gone, Emily got up and did her face and hair and changed into the navy blue needlecord dress, adjusted the eye-shield and went downstairs. There was no sign of Mr van Tecqx and although Lucillia and Dirk greeted her with pleasure she quickly felt superfluous. Murmuring that she would get Lucillia’s room ready for her, she went back upstairs and pottered around, putting everything ready. Lucillia had had a long day and done a great deal, she would be tired, and the quicker she was got to bed the better. Emily had to admit that Dirk had been the incentive she had needed; she was making real progress. In a few months’ time she would be walking with a stick, and even though she would have to continue with massage and exercises, she would be able to go back to her home and lead a normal life once more. That meant that before long Emily wouldn’t be needed.
There was a tap on the door and Anneke put her head round it. ‘Mijnheer wishes you in his study, miss.’
She held the door open and Emily went past her and down the staircase. Now what? she wondered. Her father? A change of treatment for Lucillia?
She knocked on the door and went in.
Mr van Tecqx was on the phone. He beckoned her forward and handed the receiver to her. ‘Your father,’ he told her. ‘Have a chat while I have a word with Dirk.’
Everything was fine at home. ‘I’ve never felt better,’ her father declared. ‘Mr van Tecqx will operate some time in January. Will you be back by then?’
Emily had to say that she had no idea. ‘But it shouldn’t be much after that, Father. Lucillia is improving so quickly, I shan’t be needed for much longer.’ She enquired after Mrs Philips and Podge and then rang off just as Mr van Tecqx returned.
‘Everything all right? Shall we go to the drawing-room and have a drink before dinner?’
The evening was a success. Lucillia was animated and happy and the two men kept the talk to trivialities, and Emily blossomed under their gentle banter, but, mindful of her patient, once the meal was over, she organised Lucillia’s return to her room, then took herself off to her room for five minutes so that Dirk could say goodnight, then she went back to be helpful and put a tired Lucillia to bed. Her brother came presently to make sure that everything was as it should be before bidding her goodnight. He wished Emily goodnight too, so that any faint idea she might have had about going down to the drawing-room again was squashed on the instant.
Not that she would have gone, she told herself stoutly, she still had the vestige of a headache and her eyes throbbed. She got ready for bed and was turning back the bedcovers when there was a tap on her door and Anneke came in; carrying a glass of hot milk and a spoon containing a pill.
‘You are to take this, and I must watch you, miss. For the head and the eye.’
Emily did as she was told meekly enough. If she had refused no doubt the master of the house would have replaced his housekeeper and stood over her until she had swallowed it. She drank the milk under Anneke’s motherly eye and laid her head on the pillow. Five minutes later she was asleep.
She felt quite well in the morning; her eye was sore, but her headache had disappeared. She went to the window and looked out on to the dark garden. There was still a good deal of snow lying around and she hoped there wouldn’t be any more until they had had their walk.
Her hope was justified; the day was overcast and cold, but there was no more snow. The morning went well. Lucillia, buoyed up by the knowledge that Dirk would telephone her during the day, was amenable to any suggestion which Emily had to offer and astonished Juffrouw Smit by her exemplary behaviour during her hated exercise period. Emily got her downstairs, settled her in the drawing-room and presently shepherded her into the dining-room for their lunch, listening with every appearance of interest to her companion’s happy chatter, a hotch-potch of Dirk, new clothes, Christmas, new clothes again, and then Dirk once more, while she thought lovingly of Mr van Tecqx and their forthcoming walk.
She tried not to look too often at the clock while Lucillia, with maddening slowness, finished her coffee. Help came in the form of Theo, with little Willem in his Moses basket, for Lucillia was eager to tell her sister about Dirk. Emily got her back into her chair, asked Bas to bring fresh coffee, admired the baby and then went without apparent haste to her room to study her face anxiously and get into the stout shoes.
It wouldn’t do to appear too eager, and how was she to know if Mr van Tecqx had returned home or
not? She went along to Lucillia’s room, plucked up a gossamer shawl and went down to the drawing-room with it, intent on spying out the land.
He was there, the baby lying across his knee, laughing at something Theo had said, but he looked up as Emily went in.
‘Ah, you’re ready? Forgive me if I don’t get up.’ He watched her give the shawl to Lucillia. ‘Run and get your things—we’ll be off.’
Buttoning her coat, Emily wished with longing for a new one. The shoes might be stout, they were also without a vestige of fashion and the woolly cap, while practical, did nothing for her at all. Most dissatisfied with her appearance, she went down to the hall, and found him waiting, coated and gloved, the epitome of elegance.
His glance swept over her. ‘You’ll be warm enough? We’ll go to the Markt first and then along to the Koornmarkt and Lange Geer; there are three especially beautiful houses to see and several more of interest on the Oude Delft, and we might visit the Stedelijk Museum; you can see the bullet holes on the staircase where Prince William was murdered.’
He opened the door wide and with no further ado swept her out into the street. It was to be a lecture tour, mentally uplifting, she had no doubt, but very lowering to a loving heart.
CHAPTER EIGHT
IT WAS VERY COLD, but the bitter wind had died down. Mr van Tecqx took hold of Emily’s arm and started off at a brisk pace, the dogs at his heels. He was silent, but she sensed that it was a companionable silence and there was no need to make small talk. They reached the Markt and turned past the Stadhuis into the Koornmarkt, where they came to a halt to admire two lovely gabled houses on either side of the street. Mr van Tecqx had a sound knowledge of his birthplace; he pointed out the differences between the gables and the Gothic façade of one of them and talked at some length about Dutch Renaissance architecture. With anyone else, Emily would probably have been bored, but as it was, she listened to every word, not taking in anything of what he was saying, just listening to his voice.
They walked on presently down Lange Geer, to inspect another well restored house, and thence over one of the little arched bridges which she so admired, to the Oude Delft. There were very old buildings here too, the arsenals from the seventeenth century, and close by the East India Company House, looking exactly as it had done when it was first built.
They were nearing the Oude Kerk again and Sint Agathaplein, and Emily wondered if her companion remembered their first walk in the moonlight. Apparently not; she took a quick peep at his face which showed it to be unconcerned.
He took her along the Schoutenvleugel to the Prinsenhof and ushered her inside, with a quiet word to the dogs to wait outside. There were no other people there, only the curator, whom Mr van Tecqx engaged in a brief conversation before setting off on a tour of the building.
It was very quiet as they went slowly from one room to the next—it was a museum, but it didn’t seem like one. Mr van Tecqx was an excellent guide, saying just enough and giving her time to stand and stare, ready to answer her questions. They came at last to the stairs and the wall where the bullets from Balthasar Gerard’s pistol, first killing Prince William of Orange, had buried themselves in the plaster.
‘You have a proud history,’ observed Emily softly. ‘You must be very happy to live here.’
‘Oh, yes, I am. My family have lived here since the seventeenth century, in the same house. My mother’s house is old too, but it wasn’t until Napoleon’s time that the custom was formed of the eldest son taking over the house when his father died, and his widowed mother moving to the house my mother lives in now. A pleasant custom, leaving the son’s bride to take up the reins, as it were, until such time as it is her turn to do likewise.’
He led the way outside to where the dogs were patiently waiting and she saw that the afternoon was already sinking into dusk. ‘Lucillia…’ she began.
‘Dirk does not leave until seven o’clock. We are going to have tea with some old friends of mine, Constantia and Jereon van der Geissen—he is a GP. She is English; they met nine or ten years ago—she was a nurse, and I think you will like her.’
The house was at the other end of Oude Delft, a patrician house with a great deal of plasterwork on its flat front. Mr vanTecqx gave the old-fashioned doorbell an almighty tug, and the door was opened almost at once by a dignified man whom Mr van Tecqx addressed as Taunus.
Urged forward, Emily entered the house, smiling shyly at the man who wished her a dignified ‘Good day’ in English and added, ‘I shall fetch mevrouw: you are expected, mijnheer.’
He led the way into a large, grand room, its grandness made cosy by a tabby cat curled up on one of the enormous sofas, a tangle of knitting cast down untidily on a table and a pile of books and magazines on a sofa table. Emily barely had the time to glance around her before the door was flung open and Constantia came in with a rush. She embraced Mr van Tecqx and caught hold of Emily’s hand, her pretty face alight with laughter. ‘So you are Emily? I’ve heard all about you, but I don’t suppose Sebastian has even mentioned me?’
Emily found herself smiling back. ‘Well, no—only a few minutes ago as we were on our way here.’
‘They’re all alike—men!’ declared Constantia darkly. ‘Jereon won’t be long—he went to see a patient. Take off your coats, do. Sebastian, sit down and take a nap or something while I show Emily the children.’
‘All healthy, I suppose?’ he wanted to know as he took Emily’s coat.
‘Bursting with good health. You’ll see them all presently, they’ll be down for tea.’ She caught Emily by the hand. ‘They’re in the nursery—little Jereon and Sebastian go to school, they’re eight and six, and Regina’s three.’ She led the way upstairs. ‘Do you like Holland? Delft in particular?’ She didn’t wait for an answer. ‘Is your eye very painful? Sebastian was very bothered about it…’ Emily thought she was going to say more than that, but she didn’t, and since they had reached the landing, she opened a door and they went into the nursery. The boys were fair-haired and blue-eyed with high-bridged noses. They greeted Emily in English and wanted to know about the eye-shield, and when she told them she had a black eye informed her that they were going to be doctors just like their papa.
‘Not Regina,’ they explained, ‘she’s a girl.’
A miniature of her mother, Regina was having her hair brushed by a comfortable body in a large white apron. The room, reflected Emily, the house too had an air of content and happiness; it would be heavenly to be married and living with a doting husband and delightful children in such a house…
Constantia got up from where she had been kneeling by an elderly black and white dog; it was small as well as old. ‘Prince likes to stay here in the nursery. He’s more than ten years old now—Jereon found him…’
They went back downstairs, the children with them, just in time to fling themselves at a big man with greying hair and blue eyes under heavy lids. He hugged them in turn and then bent to kiss his wife. ‘Hello, darling. This will be Emily?’ He smiled and shook hands with her. ‘Sebastian’s in the drawing room? Good. I’ll be five minutes.’
They sat around in the lovely room, having their tea; old friends who managed to make Emily feel as though she had known them for a long time too. When they got up to go, Constantia urged her to come again. ‘We’re only a short walk away and I’m sure you get an hour or two off during the day. You’re not going back to England yet?’
Conscious of Mr van Tecqx’s eyes upon her, Emily said demurely that she didn’t know.
Walking back beside him, the dogs prancing ahead, she observed, ‘What a delightful afternoon, and such a happy family.’
‘I was a medical student with Jereon; they’re devoted—nice children too.’ His answer was so casual that she decided to say no more; perhaps he was reminded of his dead wife. They reached his house in silence and once indoors Emily thanked him again and, chilled by his careless nod, went to her room and presently downstairs to see how Lucillia fared.
Emily h
ad expected to find her tired, and she was, but she was happy too. Dirk was proving to be the incentive she had needed to get her back to normal. Emily prayed that the bond between him and Lucillia would prove lasting; it seemed likely.
Now he added his voice to hers in order to persuade Lucillia to go to bed early and have her supper there. ‘You might just as well,’ he said coaxingly. ‘I’m on duty at seven o’clock anyway.’
He carried her upstairs and wished her a prolonged goodnight, while Emily obligingly fussed around in the bathroom, and promised he would find time, however busy he was, to telephone her the next day.
When he had gone, Lucillia said, ‘I’ve had a lovely day. I’m so happy, Emily.’ And then, ‘I forgot to ask you, did you have a nice walk with Sebastian?’
‘Very, thank you. The museum, you know, and some of the old houses…’
Lucillia took a look at her in astonishment. ‘Is that all? What did you talk about?’
‘Oh, the history of Delft…’ Emily was bending over an open drawer, getting out a nightie.
‘But Sebastian…’ began Lucillia, then stopped, her lovely eyes thoughtful. After a moment she went on, ‘I’m glad it’s almost Christmas; everyone comes here for Christmas Day. Sebastian has to go to the hospital in Leiden for an hour or two, though, but when he comes back we have a marvellous dinner and dance afterwards.’
Emily heard the hesitation. ‘I should think if Dirk could come even for an hour or two, you might dance a few steps; I know you won’t be able to do much, but he can hold you up, and if you were to wear a long, full skirt, who’s to know?’
’emily, how clever you are. I’ll surprise everyone!’
‘Of course you will. But you’ll have to work at your exercises and walking—it’s only a couple of weeks away, and you’ll have to rest for part of the day. You must promise that.’
‘I’ll promise you anything, darling Emily. We won’t tell anyone.’
