by Betty Neels
Curious to know Emma's opinion of her decision, she went along to the kitchen and made herself understood on the subject, only to have Emma overcome with surprise. "But the doctor would be most annoyed," she explained in the slow Dutch she used when she spoke to Olympia. "We have not spring-cleaned for years; each week a room is turned out thoroughly, and that is done all the year round. Juffrouw de Val is mistaken." She frowned. "She knows as well as I do that the doctor dislikes it very much."
Olympia ate a biscuit from a plateful on the kitchen table and said carefully: "Perhaps I didn't understand."
"But Juffrouw de Val speaks English to you, mevrouw."
Olympia agreed that yes, she did, and ate another biscuit, praised Emma's baking, wished her good night and went back to the sittingroom. Waldo was there, standing by the window, looking out into the dark garden. He turned round as she went in, remarking: "What a good friend Elisabeth is. She must have been of great help to you."
Olympia agreed. She must reserve judgment; undoubtedly she couldn't have been listening properly to Elisabeth, or the kind soul had forgotten that Waldo disliked having his home turned inside out. Anyway, it didn't really matter. She made a few prosaic remarks about his journey, declared her intention of going up to bed after she had paid a final visit to Ria's room, and wished him a serene good night. No one, watching her going with calm leisure up the stairs, would have guessed at her unhappiness.
She saw him off the next day with a smiling face and no sign of the curiosity which consumed her. There had been little time to talk during breakfast and what they had said had been to do with Ria, and when he returned to pick up his overnight bag after surgery, she took care to keep the conversation vague and pleasant, never once mentioning his stay in London. And he hadn't wanted it otherwise, or so it seemed. Only when he was on the point of leaving he had held her close for a moment, and she, betrayed into lifting her face for his kiss, received none, only he muttered something in his own language as he touched her cheek with a gentle finger. He had left then, without another word, and she had remained in the empty hall, listening to the Lamborghini's purr dying into nothingness. A nice cry would have done her a power of good, but Ria was in the sitting-room, a little tearful because her papa had gone away, and although Olympia felt herself to be a poor substitute, at least she might be able to fill the gap until he returned.
And indeed she did. Elisabeth, whom Olympia had expected to visit them, didn't come; the two of them spent the day happily enough with Niko to divert them, the doll's house to set in order, and after tea, a rousing game of Happy Families, with Emma and Joanna roped in to make it more exciting. Ria had mastered the names easily enough, but Emma's efforts to pronounce Mr Bun the Baker kept her laughing happily until bedtime, and while she was eating her supper, the doctor telephoned.
Olympia, who had had a hopeful ear stretched for the last hour or so, forced herself not to hurry to answer it, while her imagination painted a vivid picture of Waldo sipping champagne in the beautiful girl's flat, being diverted by her scintillating conversation and remembering impatiently that he really should telephone his wife… This absurd vision was so real to her that she positively snapped "Hullo' in the Grossest of voices and was brought back to reality immediately by Waldo's quiet: "Hullo, Olympia, why are you upset?"
She made haste to deny this and added brightly: "I hope you had a good trip. We've had a nice day, Ria and I." She beckoned to the little girl, lifted her on to her lap and went on before he could speak, "Here is Ria to talk to you."
Ria had a lot to say and took some time to say it. When at length she had finished, she gave the receiver back to Olympia and stayed where she was; in the crook of her arm. "Hullo," said Olympia once again.
"I'll be home tomorrow evening," said Waldo in her ear. "Anything from Wim or Paul?"
"No-Paul telephoned to ask if we were all right, he said they were coping very well."
In the little silence which followed she clearly heard the tinkle of glasses and someone laughs woman. "Must go," she spoke stiffly in an effort to sound natural. "Ria…"
"Yes, of course. Good night, dear girl."
Her reply was glacial.
The next day dragged. Ria had made the swift recovery all healthy children make, and now, almost well again, wished to do all the things she shouldn't. Olympia devoted her whole day to her save for her Dutch lesson in the morning. Somehow she couldn't bear to miss that, it had become important to her that she should conquer the tongue-twisting language at the soonest possible moment. An ambition which Mijnheer Blom found most laudable and certainly possible; he had never had a pupil who worked so hard, he assured her, listening to her rendering of the conditional tense with a perseverance which did her-and him-credit.
Waldo had told Ria that he would be home in time to carry her up to bed, a nightly practice the moppet set great store by, and for once Olympia had no trouble in getting her bathed and dressing-gowned and downstairs in the small sitting-room, where her supper was waiting for her.
"It will please Papa very much if you have eaten everything up by the time he arrives," counselled Olympia, and while the child ate obediently began, haltingly, to read The Tale of Benjamin Bunny in Dutch. It was pure chance that Elisabeth should call only ten minutes before Waldo arrived home, and pure chance that the first thing he should see as he entered the room was Elisabeth sitting on the floor beside Ria, with her arm around her. Olympia, who had taken the supper tray back to the kitchen and so had missed the sound of his arrival, got back in time to see Elisabeth spring to her feet and go towards him. She had almost reached him when he saw Olympia, and with the briefest of smiles for Elisabeth, went to meet her. He bent his head and brushed her cheek lightly and said: 'Hullo-you're wearing that pretty dress again. How is Ria?" and before she could reply, "I've brought a guest with me."
It was preposterous for her to imagine, even for one moment, that he had brought the girl back with him, but she did. She turned a stricken face to his, so that he caught her hand and exclaimed: "My dear, what is it? You're tired but Aunt Betsy won't need entertaining, you know."
"Aunt Betsy?" echoed Olympia foolishly, and smiled brilliantly at him. "Oh, dear-I'm so sorry, I thought…' She was unable to tell him what she had thought, and a good thing too, she realized later, because Ria came bouncing out of the sitting room and Waldo turned away to swing her up into his arms and then go to the door where Aunt Betsy was standing.
Olympia hurried forward too. "Aunt Betsy, how lovely!" she cried, "and do forgive us for leaving you to stand there."
"Nonsense, my dear," said Mrs. van der Graaf comfortably, "husbands should have a few minutes in which to greet their wives. I had no intention of coming, I do assure you, but Waldo persuaded me to spend a couple of days here and I very much wanted to see you again-and Ria." She turned to greet the little girl and then listened attentively to her dramatic tale, told with a gusto which set them all laughing.
"Well, come in," begged Olympia at last. "You'd like a drink, I'm sure-Elisabeth, you too."
But Elisabeth declined in her pleasant, quiet voice; she would not intrude upon the family circle, she told them, a little wistfully, she had only called round to see how her darling Ria was getting on. Olympia went with her to the door and wished her her usual warm good night and asked her to come again while Aunt Betsy was staying. Elisabeth got into her car, saying vaguely that she had several things to do and perhaps she wouldn't have time.
"Oh, well, never mind," said Olympia cheerfully. "Come round when you like, you know you're welcome."
Elisabeth smiled at her. "I think that Ria begins to like you more than she likes me," she commented lightly.
"She's very fond of you, but it would be marvellous if she would accept me as her mother. I-I'm very fond of her too, you know. I've thought during these last few days that she had begun to like me a little."
The other girl nodded. "Yes, I have noticed it also. Now I must not keep you, Olympia. Good-bye."
"Don't get up," cried Olympia as Waldo began to lift Ria from his knee. "I'll get myself something." She glanced at their stately guest. "Aunt Betsy, what are you having?"
"Madeira, child, and an excellent one. How Waldo can drink whisky when there are wines like this, I cannot understand."
He laughed. "it does me good at the end of a day. Olympia, try some of the Madeira, I brought some back with me."
Ria had her present open at last-there was a doll inside the box, a pretty baby doll, wrapped in a shawl. "No clothes!" shrilled the child, investigating.
"Look in the package underneath," advised the doctor patiently.
There were balls of knitting wool, lovely pale colours and knitting needles besides. "Mama knits beautifully," he pointed out, "nice woolly things, just right for a baby, and I daresay she will teach you how to knit too."
"Ton will mind," objected Ria.
"No, she won't, she will be very glad to have a baby to play with. You have had Ton for three years, she's a big girl now, almost as big as you."
Olympia had listened to this conversation and understood most of it. Waldo was repairing the fiasco of the dress she had made for Ton; even if he didn't love her, he was so kind… She said in her slow Dutch:
"Now, that is a splendid idea, and there's plenty of wool to make Ton a jumper. We'll start tomorrow, shall we?" She finished her drink. "What about bed, poppet?"
Ria was borne upstairs, kissed good night by the doctor and left to Olympia's gentle care. Only as she was preparing to leave the room, with Niko frisking along beside her, the new doll tucked up with Ton beside the little girl, and the bell just nicely within reach in case anything was needed, and the night light on the chest of drawers, did the child ask: "May Tante Betsy come and see me?"
Olympia bent to kiss the small forehead and tried not to notice Ria's quick turn of the head to avoid it-and only an hour or so ago she had thought that the moppet was beginning to like her…she said quietly: "Of course, darling, I'll ask her."
Aunt Betsy got to her feet at once and surged from the room. "And I will go to my bedroomthe one I always have, I expect? and tidy myself," she told them, and chuckled cosily. "That will give you ten minutes to yourselves, won't it?"
"The kitchen-Emma!" exclaimed Olympia, suddenly breathless at the idea of being left alone with Waldo, and made for the door.
"Olympia." The doctor's voice was placid, but it halted her. She asked: "Yes, Waldo?" a little too brightly, only half turning round, the very picture of a hindered and harassed housewife, and he said on a half laugh, "I'm sure that Emma can cope with whatever emergency there is in the kitchen." He got up and strolled over to her. "Why did you look like that, dear girl?"
"Like what?"
"Like someone whose heaven had fallen. Who were you expecting, Olympia?"
She gave him a wild glance. "No one-1 mean, I was surprised. I didn't expect Aunt Betsy."
His voice was bland. "Ah, yes-of course. By the way, I've changed the car."
"Changed the car? The Lamborghini?" She forgot she was anxious to get away from him, she even took a couple of steps forward.
"Yes. Now that I am a married man, it isn't very suitable, don't you agree? Tearing around on my own isn't quite the same thing as driving my wife and daughter."
She stared at him, trying to fit the girl in London into this new happening; perhaps he had given the Lamborghini to her-she would be able to go down to Dover and meet him and they would tear off anywhere they wanted to go… She blinked at the wild strength of her imagination, at her rage at the thought of him loving anyone else, even though he had never loved her. She schooled her voice to mild inquiry. "Oh? What sort of car?"
"A Rolls-Royce-a Corniche Convertible. I had someone looking out for one for a week or two and he had the incredible luck to find a man who had just taken delivery of one and then had second thoughts. Come outside and have a look."
It was a wonderful car, a gleaming gunmetal grey, perfection itself. Olympia, quite overcome, peered and poked and then got inside to try its super comfort, longing to ask the wifely question as to whether he could afford it. She was quite startled when he said, "Don't worry, my dear, I'm rich enough to indulge my tastes and, I hope, please you."
"Oh, you have," she assured him. "It's super-I liked the Lamborghini, but this one is just right for you, somehow."
He smiled a little, leaning against the door. "Should I be flattered?"
For a moment she had forgotten the girl in London and Elisabeth and Ria not liking her. "Yes, I think you should," she told him shyly, and then, afraid that she might say more than she ever meant him to know, she got out of the car and added sedately: 'Ria is going to love it." She turned her back on him and asked carefully: "What's happened to the Lamborghini?"
He swung her round to face him, his hands on her waist. It was quiet and there was no one about; it seemed a long time before he answered her. "She's gone to someone who will appreciate her," he told her. "Let's go in and rescue Aunt Betsy."
Mrs. van der Graaf was a delightful guest; she reappeared at exactly the right time, just before dinner, made light conversation while they drank their sherry and had just the right amount to say for herself at the dinner table. She ate delicately but with pleasure, praising the ratatouille, the salmon steaks with herb butter, accompanied by broccoli and a French dressing and tiny new potatoes, and the splendid apple pie which Olympia had made that afternoon. They went back to the sitting-room for their coffee and Aunt Betsy, sitting erect, as always, gave it her opinion that Olympia was an excellent housewife. "A delightful meal, my dear," she beamed. "Waldo must be very proud of you." She glanced across at her nephew. "You must give a dinner party and let everyone see what a treasure you have captured, dear boy."
He smiled back at her. "Indeed we must, it will give Olympia an opportunity to air her Dutch, too. She is making great progress."
They talked light-heartedly until bedtime. A delightful evening, thought Olympia, on the way upstairs to bed with Aunt Betsy, and as she thought it, had it shattered by the ringing of the telephone in Waldo's study. He was still in the hall. Olympia, looking back, saw his quick frown as he went to answer it; she heard, too, his quick: "Yes? I'm home-wait a minute…' He had closed the door then and she, with barely a pause, went on up the stairs beside her guest, talking rapidly about nothing at all in an effort to appear totally unaware of Waldo's words.
It was while they were having their coffee the next morning, with Ria happily engrossed in her doll's house on the floor between them, that Olympia remarked to her guest: "I asked Elisabeth to come in while you were here, but she wasn't sure if she could manage it-1 expect you know her very well."
Aunt Betsy stirred her coffee and added a thought more sugar. "Very well indeed," she said in a dry voice. "She has been a great help to you, so Waldo tells me."
"Oh, yes. I don't know what I should have done without her. She explained how Waldo liked things and told me when I made mistakes-and I made dozens-still do."
"I am sure that you would have managed very well even without her help, and you had Waldo to go to for advice."
Olympia had no idea how stricken her face looked. "He's very busy," she pointed out defensively. "I couldn't go running to him each time I wanted to know something." She had her eyes on her cup and didn't see her companion's bright glance. "I was terrified of letting him down-it's quite true what Elisabeth says, you know
, I'm not used to this kind of life." She looked up at last. "You know, Aunt Betsy, I really didn't think that Waldo was rich-really rich. I've had to get used to that."
"And if he lost all his money tomorrow, would you have to get used to that too?"
Olympia laughed. "Yes, of course, but it wouldn't matter at all."
Aunt Betsy clicked her tongue. "A pity you weren't able to come with him to London, but of course you had to stay with the little one. You get on well with her?"
There was no point in prevarication with Aunt Betsy; she would keep on, like a bulldozer, until she got what she wanted.
"No. I've tried very hard and once or twice I thought that she was beginning to like me. She's always very polite and her manners are beautiful, it's as though she's been told not to like me, but that's absurd, of course. She loves Elisabeth-understandably. I think," she went on, mentally damning the consequences, "it would have been far better if Waldo had married Elisabeth."
"Ah," said Aunt Betsy profoundly. "Far better for everyone, my dear?"
"Everyone."
"You are, of course, mistaken, but it is not for me to enlighten you. Why do you suppose Waldo married you?"
"He wanted someone to run his home and look after-mother-Ria. He knew that I was unhappy with Aunt Maria and he thought it a good idea if-if we married, so that I could do these things for him and get away from Aunt Maria." She shot a defiant look at Mrs. van der Graaf. "And please don't tell me anything different."
"Why should I when what you tell me is quite true, my dear?" queried her guest, dashing down any half-formed hopes Olympia was cherishing. She went on in a chatty way: "Of course Waldo has known Elisabeth for a great many years, before he married you. He depended upon her when it came to household matters and looking after Ria. She is an old and trusted friend, but no more than that."
