by Betty Neels
"There's a bathroom through that door," he pointed out, "and on this side there's my dressing-room and my room beyond it and another bathroom. Are you tired, or would you like to see the rest of the house?"
She disclaimed all tiredness; perhaps he was anxious to get the inspection over with, and it wasn't as though they were looking over their new home for the first time. She fetched a small sigh and followed him out of the room.
They inspected more bedrooms; there were a great many of them, but then the house extended back a long way from the street in a most unexpected way. And upstairs, on the floor above, was Ria's room, small, and furnished exactly as a little girl's room should be. Olympia would have loved to have lingered, to examine the toys scattered around and admire the pictures, but one look at the little girl's face decided her against it; Ria didn't want her there, any fool could have seen that. She sighed again and crossed the landing to look into two more rooms and then pause while the doctor explained that the two doors opposite Ria's room were where Emma and Joanna the maid slept. There was a small narrow staircase beside the end door, leading to the attics. "You can leave those for a wet day," the doctor suggested, "they're full of odds and ends, I'm afraid. Emma cleans them out every now and then, but she always puts everything back again, however useless."
They all went downstairs again, back into the big sitting-room, and the doctor fetched the dolls' house with the suggestion that Ria might be allowed to play with it for an hour before her bedtime before he excused himself on the grounds of telephoning his partners, and disappeared, leaving Olympia and Ria in each other's uneasy company. He had probably forgotten that neither of them could understand the other, and when Olympia made a tentative move to join the little girl on the floor in front of her new toy, she was met with such a bleak look of dislike that she went back to her chair and picked up a paper lying on the table beside it. The paper was, naturally enough, printed in Dutch, which left her with nothing to amuse herself with but her own uncertain thoughts. She remembered her aunt's warning then, and a little niggling doubt crept into her head and would probably have swelled to enormous proportions if the doctor hadn't returned at that moment. He made no comment upon the silence which greeted him, but dropped on his knees beside Ria, saying over his shoulder in a comfortable voice: "Tomorrow you shall start your Dutch lessons, Olympia-there is an excellent teacher close by. I've just been on the telephone to him, he will come each morning. It won't be long before you can at least acquire a basic Dutch; enough to talk to Emma and Ria and do your shopping, and once you start it will get easier."
"Is it very difficult?" she asked anxiously.
He smiled nicely. "Yes but don't let that worry you. You will be able to manage very well with a handful of sentences to begin with, the rest will come easily enough in time."
"Yes, but I'm not clever, you know." She got to her feet. "I think I'll go and unpack, if you don't mind." She hesitated. "Do you want me to do anything about Ria's supper? Who puts her to bed?"
He had risen to his feet too, to come and stand beside her. "Emma will see to that tonighttomorrow will be tithe enough for you to start your new life." His blue eyes studied her face carefully. "You must be tired; we seem to have squeezed a great deal into one day, and I haven't even welcomed you to your new home, dear girl." He bent to kiss her, a friendly, impersonal kiss. "I hope you will be very happy here."
Olympia nodded without speaking. Indeed, she had no words for the moment; she was struggling to behave normally, as though nothing had happened, as though she hadn't just discovered that she was very much in love with this cool, quiet man who had married her-as he had been at pains to point out to her-because of the mutual benefits they might share. Only these benefits hadn't included love. And why, after having known him all these weeks, did she have to discover that now? It would have to be a secret, kept for ever and ever…
"Do you feel all right?" asked the doctor. "You look a little pale."
She might as well begin as she meant to go on: she gave him a serene smile. "As you say, it's been a long day-not that I'm tired, just a bit excited, that's all. Shall I say good night to Ria now? And if you would tell me what time we have dinner-though I'm sure to be ready before then."
He spoke easily. "Of course-I've always dined at half past seven, after evening surgery, if that suits you? Will you come down for a drink about seven? Ria goes to bed at half past six." He glanced at his watch, "Emma will be coming for her in half an hour or so-a good idea to say good night now."
She offered her hand to the little girl because she knew instinctively that Ria didn't want to be kissed; small children couldn't be forced, she knew that, and it might take time, but she would wait with patience until they had got to know each other and Ria liked her a little-had even become fond of her. She was a dear little girl, but perhaps Waldo hadn't prepared her enough about their marriage; even if she didn't remember her own mother, she might be fostering a childish image of her in her small heart, and anyone else trying to oust it would seem an interloper.
Olympia went upstairs to her lovely room and sat down on the edge of the bed to think. It had all seemed very simple and straightforward in London, but she could see now that things wouldn't be quite what she had imagined. She had been told that Waldo was a rich man, but she hadn't quite taken that in; she hadn't expected this lovely old house filled with treasures, certainly she hadn't expected Ria to dislike her, and most important of all, she hadn't expected to fall in love with her husband.
She wasted a lot of time, just sitting there allowing her thoughts to weave their way to and fro in her head before admitting to herself that they were getting her nowhere, because inevitably they returned to Waldo. She began to unpack, glad to have something to do, and when this was done to her satisfaction she did her hair and face with care, and still in the dress she had worn for their wedding, went downstairs.
The doctor was in the sitting-room, in his mammoth armchair, going through his post; a formidable task, it would appear, for although he had remembered to place a wastepaper basket within reach, he had either forgotten about it or ignored it; it stood empty while the floor around him was piled high with screwed-up envelopes, discarded letters and unopened circulars. To make matters worse he got up from his chair as she entered, sending a cascade of paper to join the rest on the floor.
"What an enormous post," observed Olympia, and quite forgetting the shyness which had overcome her at the thought of seeing him again, got down on her knees and began to stuff the basket full.
He beamed at her before becoming immersed in a closely-written form. "Dear girl, what a blessing you will be to me. I never could control my letters and Juffrouw Bruin-my secretary at the surgery-is on Holiday. Three piles," he instructed her, "circulars, bills and so forth, and letters." He returned to his reading and then looked up to say: "They look the same in any language, but you had better make another pile of the ones you aren't certain about."
He was quite right; a bill was a bill whether she could understand the language or not, and she was nothing if not efficient. Within a few minutes she had the chaos subdued into neat piles and the wastepaper basket piled high, and since he was still immersed in his reading, she went and sat in a small button-backed chair close by. She was naturally a quiet girl and her upbringing had made her even more so; she neither moved nor sighed, examined her nails or fidgeted with her hair. It was quite five minutes before he looked up, cast down his papers and exclaimed: "Olympia, I had forgotten. Drinks before dinner-will sherry suit you, or a Dubonnet?"
She chose the latter and when he had handed her a glass, asked: "Is it very interesting? Don't stop reading on my account."
She smiled a little shyly. "I don't need to be entertained, you know."
"I can see that we are going to suit each other very well. This is a report on a patient I sent for open heart surgery— -doing rather well, despite complications, too." He plunged into highly technical details of the case. "I've been to Utrecht
to see her several times. I fancy she's out of the wood now."
"Young?" Olympia wanted to know.
"Almost twelve. There was no chance to do anything sooner, she's an asthmatic as well, poor child, but happily that is improving."
"Oh, the poor little girl! Will she go home to convalesce or will you send her to an after-care centre?"
"Send her away, I think. Her father's finances must be stretched to their limit by now, and there's a splendid place not too far away."
Olympia sipped her drink. Intent on keeping the conversation on safe, impersonal lines, she asked: "How does your National Health work in Holland-there is one, of course?"
"Oh, yes-but not quite like England; it will take a little explaining. Shall we go into dinner and I can tell you about it while we eat."
The meal was delicious; Emma, who did the cooking, had a magic touch and there was champagne, presumably to celebrate their wedding day, although the doctor was so engrossed in explaining the Ziekenfonds to her that beyond opening the bottle, filling her glass and raising his own to her in an absent-minded fashion, he had probably forgotten all about it. She must be the only girl in the world, she thought wryly, whose husband spent the first few hours of their life together explaining the Health Service of the Netherlands to her. She rather unwisely tossed off the champagne and when he refilled her glass, drank that down too. It certainly lent a more cheerful light to the situation, indeed, she had to fight a tendency to giggle. It was Emma, bearing in a splendid dessert to round off their meal, who brought their rather one-sided conversation to an end. She offered the delectable confection with a little speech and a smile for Olympia, who smiled back, relieved that it might now be possible to change the subject. Seemingly it was; with a brief reminder to her to ask him to finish his explanations some other time, the doctor applied himself to filling glasses once more, and this time Emma and Joanna came and stood by the table and toasted them as well. And when she had served the sweet, the dish was returned to Emma with instructions to finish it in the kitchen in honour of the bride and groom. Olympia, understanding without comprehending a word, said quickly before Emma should go: 'Waldo, please will you tell Emma that the dinner was delicious-she's a wonderful cook and this dessert looks like something out of fairyland."
He translated rapidly and Emma smiled widely, nodded her head at them both and trotted away. As soon as she had gone, Olympia asked: "What is it called, this pudding?-it's heavenly."
"Gateau St Honore-made especially in your honour."
For some stupid reason she wanted to cry. She took a mouthful of the choux pastry instead, and swallowed the threatening tears with it and contrived to say cheerfully, "How very kind of her, to-to celebrate like that."
She was instantly sorry that she had said it, for Waldo paused with his fork half-way to his mouth. "And I haven't celebrated at all, only to bore you unendingly about the Health Service. My dear Olympia, I am sorry…'
She interrupted him. "That wasn't what I meant-I wasn't bored and there is no need to celebrate, is there? I'm very content if you are."
She had forced her voice to friendly warmth and nothing more, and was rewarded by his smile and his quick: "I can only repeat that we shall suit each other very well, you and I. And now if you're ready, shall we go into the sittingroom for our coffee? I must tell you about the running of the house and the arrangements I have made for you."
It was pleasant sitting by the bright fire while she listened in some awe to him telling her about the account he had opened for her. The size of her allowance seemed excessive to her, and she said so, to be told that she would doubtless need all of it and probably more besides. "We shall go out a good deal," he explained, "and now that I have you as a hostess, we shall entertain a great deal more than I have been doing. You will need pretty clothes and hairdressing and so on. There is also a sum of money paid in for Ria. Elisabeth has always bought her clothes, but it will be more satisfactory now that you are here to do it."
"Who is Elisabeth?" Olympia's voice sounded faint in her own ears; it was quite frightening, the fierceness of her feelings at the mention of another woman-surely she wasn't jealous'? She had never had occasion to feel jealousy before and it was a frightening sensation.
"Have I never mentioned her?" he wanted to know carelessly. "An old friend-we have known each other for fifteen years at least. She was fond of Estelle and naturally enough when she died, Elisabeth helped in every way she could with Ria. She lives close by, you will meet her very soon, I have no doubt."
Very soon indeed; Emma came in at that moment, looking faintly disapproving and muttered to the doctor, who got up with every sign of pleasure. "Elisabeth is here now-how providential," he told Olympia, who found herself disagreeing violently, if silently, with him.
"You're not tired?" He was already on the way to the door and her murmured answer was lost in the sudden outburst of talk as their visitor came in.
And she was such a pretty girl, Olympia saw at once, hating herself for the half-formed hope that Elisabeth might be dumpy andd middle-aged. She was neither; she was fair and superbly built, with bright blue eyes and a voice which would have charmed her worst enemy. She gave the doctor her hand with the briefest of greetings and came across the room to Olympia. "You must think me a very rude woman," she said in English, "calling at this hour of the evening and on the first night of your arrival in your new home, but I am as a sister to Waldo and I have so much wanted to meet you."
She smiled with such obvious pleasure that Olympia found herself smiling back, her first doubts stilled. Elisabeth might be gorgeously pretty, but she was nice too-and an old friend. Perhaps she would become her friend too. . She stayed only a very short while; presently she bade them good night in her soft voice, expressing a wish to help Olympia in whatever way she could and saying that she would come again in the morning, and when the doctor came back into the room after seeing her to the door, Olympia said impulsively: "What a very nice person Elisabeth is, and how pretty. Surely she's married?"
He shook his head. "She's had offers enough, but she's very happy as she is, I believe. She lives very much as she wishes; her father died some years ago and she lives with her mother, but she's always been allowed to go her own way-in any case, it would take an exceptional man to take her fancy."
Waldo was an exceptional man, thought Olympia worriedly; they would have made a strikingly handsome pair, too; it seemed strange that he hadn't married Elisabeth, but perhaps she had refused him?-had she not said that she felt like a sister to him?-and she had behaved towards him like one, too, nor had there been anything in his manner towards her… She suddenly longed for her bed as she fought the terrible suspicion that she might have bitten off more than she could chew.
"You wouldn't mind if I went to bed"?" she asked the doctor. "I know it's still quite early…'
"My dear, of course-it's been a long day, hasn't it? I think I'll catch up on some reading for an hour or so. This is the best time of the day for it-the house is quiet and there is no one to disturb me."
A strong hint for future evenings? she wondered peevishly as she wished him a good night. He had gone to the door with her and held it open for her to go through, but he didn't kiss her good night.
In her room presently, brushing her hall' before the mirror, she assured her reflection that she hadn't expected him to, anyway. Her face stared back at her with sad eyes and a mouth which trembled a little. She turned her back upon it, and clad in one of the exquisite nighties which Mrs. van der Graaf had cajoled her into buying, jumped into bed.
She wakened early and lay wondering if she should get up. She felt very much a guest in the house, which was foolish, she knew; she should have asked about it before she had gone to bed. But she need not have worried, for only a few seconds after the carillons of Middelburg had chimed their chorus for seven o'clock, there was a knock on the door, and Joanna came in with morning tea, a luxury Olympia had done without until she had gone to stay with Aunt Bet
sy. She was sitting up in bed sipping it when there was another tap on the door-this time the doctor. His good morning was cheerful and matter-offact, his glance brief and oblivious of the nightie. She was surprised to see that he was already dressed, something she commented upon, glad of something to say.
"Were you called out?"
"No-surgery starts at half past eight, though, and until recently I had a dog to walk before breakfast, so getting up early has become a habit."
"A dog-what happened to him?"
"He died, he was elderly and had a heart condition, but I had him for twelve years-one gets attached."
He was standing looking out of the window, with his back to her. She said with quick sympathy, "Oh, I'm sorry, but could you not get another one in his place-he must have left a gap."
"Now that you are here, I don't see why not. You see, there was the question of training a puppy and I'm so often not home. It would hardly be fair to leave him to Emma and Joanna,"
He turned round at last and she put down her cup and spoke before she could stop herself.
"Waldo, please may we have a dog? I don't mind looking after him and training him when you're not home, in fact, I should like it very much-I never had a dog, you know-and Ria would like it, I'm sure."
He took the tea tray from her knee and sat down on the edge of the bed. "You would? Then we will have one. Large or small?"
"I don't mind. Ria does like dogs, I suppose"?"
"Very much. There is a cat who lives with Emma in the kitchen; she's a great friend of his, but I know she prefers dogs." He got to his feet. "We'll see about it, let me see-I'll telephone someone who might know of a puppy, it should be easy enough. Are you coming down to breakfast? It's in half an hour or so, but if you would rather have yours later, you only have to say so."
"I'll come down and have it with you and Ria." He was almost at the door. "Waldo, does she go to school?"
