by Betty Neels
The evening was pleasant; the dinner was superb: mushrooms in garlic, roast duck with an orange sauce, lemon syllabub and a bombe glacee to finish.
Getting up from the table, Sophie wondered if the meal was a sample of the week ahead. If so, she would have to take long walks or do exercises in her room each morning.
She didn't have to worry about the exercises; the next morning Rijk took her walking and she was glad of the sensible shoes and a thick woolly under the Jaeger jacket, for the weather was cold and the sky grey with a wind which hinted at snow later on. He took her briskly round the grounds and then down to the village beyond, with Matt prancing along beside them.
As they walked he talked about his home and the life he led.
`I am away a good deal,' he told her, `you know that already, but I come home whenever I can. Of course, if you wish you can accompany me to England when I go and visit your parents while I am working. You won't be lonely if you stay here; the family will see to that, and besides, you will soon make friends.'
It seemed to her that he was making it clear that he didn't want her with him while he travelled away from home. Reasonable enough, she supposed, it wasn't as though he was head over heels in love with her; theirs was to be a placid, well mannered marriage with no strong feelings, and she supposed that was what she wanted. She had told him that, hadn't she? He had taken her at her word, no doubt content to have found a woman who had the same attitude to marriage as he had.
They walked until lunchtime and had that meal together, for his mother and father had gone to visit neighbouring friends and wouldn't be back until the evening. When they had finished Rijk asked her if she would like to go with him to his study while he looked over the notes on several cases he had been asked to deal with. She was surprised, but settled down in a comfortable leather chair by the window with a pile of magazines, while Matt got under the desk at his master's feet.
The room was pleasantly warm and very quiet and she took care not to speak, even when she glanced out of the window and saw the first snowflakes falling, and presently she had her reward, for the professor closed his case papers and leaned back in his chair. `How restful you are, Sophie; I'm sure you were longing to tell me that it was snowing...'
`Well, yes, I was, but I know how annoying it is when you're studying something or writing a report and someone keeps talking in hushed tones or sighing.'
`I can see we're ideally suited. Come and have tea; you deserve a whole pot to yourself.'
His parents came back presently and they dined and spent the rest of the evening sitting in the drawing-room. Mevrouw van Taak ter Wijsma made no bones about questioning Sophie, in the nicest possible way, about her life and home. Sophie answered readily enough; if she were a mother, even if her son were an adult well able to look after his own interests, she felt sure that she would want to know as much as possible about a future daughter-in-law.
Rijk followed her out into the hall when she and his mother went to bed. `Shall we walk again in the morning?' he asked her. 'I'm going to Leeuwarden after lunch; perhaps you would like to come with me? You can look around the shops while I am at the hospital.'
She agreed readily, and presently, in bed and half asleep, began on a list of presents she would take home with her. She was asleep before it was even half finished.
They walked away from the village in the morning, taking a narrow cart track which wound round the shores of the lake, and Sophie, muffled in her coat and with her head swathed in a cashmere scarf of Rijk's, was glad of them, for the wind was cutting and the snow, long ceased, had frozen on the ground. Looking around her, she had to admit that the scenery was bleak, and yet she liked it. Which, she conceded silently, was a good thing if she were to marry Rijk. She hadn't made up her mind yet, she reminded herself, despite his cool assumption that their marriage was a foregone conclusion.
Even while she thought about it, she knew in her heart of hearts that she would marry him; he would be a good husband, kind and considerate and undemanding, and more than anything else she wanted the security and contentment which he had offered her. Romance, she had decided wistfully, wasn't for her. Her only taste of it had turned sour; far better settle for a comfortable relationship.
He drove her to Leeuwarden in the afternoon, set her down in the centre of the shopping centre, close to the ancient Weigh House, told her that he would wait there for her at four O'clock, and drove himself off to the hospital.
Left to herself, Sophie studied the shop windows and presently made a few purchases.
Cigars for her father, a Delft blue vase for her mother, a thick slab of chocolate for Tom and, after a lengthy search, a book on Friesland for George, who was a bookworm, and a pen and pencil set for Paul. She could have bought that in England, but at least it was in a Dutch box and the description was in that language, which made it rather different.
By then it was getting on for four o'clock and she made her way back to the Weigh House and found Rijk waiting. He took her parcels from her, settled her in the car and got in beside her. `You found shopping easy enough?' he wanted to know.
`Well, yes; once or twice I got a bit muddled, but almost everyone speaks English. Did you have a busy afternoon?"
'An unusual case...' He began to tell her about it and she listened with intelligence and real interest, so that he observed, `How delightful it is to discuss my work with someone who knows what I'm talking about and is really interested.'Which gave Sophie a gentle glow of pleasure. The next day he put her in the car and took her on a sightseeing tour of Friesland. North first, to Dokkum, where they had coffee at a nice old-fashioned hotel by the canal, and then on to the coast and the Waddenzee, bleak and cold, with a distant view of the islands, looking lonely beyond the dull grey sea.
`Do people live there?' asked Sophie.
`Good heavens, yes. In summer they swarm with holiday-makers. They're very peaceful out of season; there are bird sanctuaries and beautiful beaches. We will go in early spring and you shall see for yourself.'
He drove south again along narrow brick roads built on their dikes, bypassed Leeuwarden, and stopped in Franeker, where they had a lunch of erwtensoep, a thick pea soup, rich with pieces of sausage and pork, followed by smoked eel on toast-the kind of food, Rijk assured Sophie, which kept the sometimes very cold winter at bay.
They sat over their coffee until a watery sun decided him that it would be worth going down the coast to Hindeloopen and Staveren before turning for home.
Even on a winter's day, Hindeloopen was charming. They walked along the sea wall before driving on to Staveren, which disappointed her so much that Rijk drove inland to Sloten; the sixteenth-century charm of the tiny town more than made up for the unattractiveness of Staveren.
It was dusk as they arrived back at the house, and the windows glowed with light. The professor got out and opened Sophie's door as Rauke, already on the porch, stood back to allow Matt to hurl himself at his master, and she stood quietly, looking around her.
In the fast-gathering dark the house looked beautiful and a little awe-inspiring. There was already a touch of frost on the lawn before it and the trees surrounding it were rustling and sighing. She wondered how long they had been standing there, guarding the house. After her happy and contented day she felt suddenly uncertain; if it hadn't been for Rauke standing there in the cold waiting for them to go inside she would have unburdened herself to Rijk there and then; as it was she went into the house and allowed Rijk to take her coat before she went to her room to tidy her hair and do things to her face. It glowed with the cold air and her eyes sparkled, but it didn't mirror her feelings. She went down to the sitting-room, where the professor was waiting for her, the tea-tray with its shining silver and delicate china already on the sofa table.
Much though she wanted a cup of tea, she had made up her mind to say what she had to say first. She began at once. 'Rijk...'
He looked up from the letters he was glancing through and studied her face. `So
mething is worrying you, Sophie?"
'Yes, how did you know?'
He said quietly, `We are friends-close friends-are we not, my dear?"
'Yes, oh, yes, we are. I'm a bit worried. You see, I didn't know about all this.' She waved a hand around her at the understated comfort and luxury around them. `I knew you were a very successful man; I supposed that you would have a nice house in Holland and be-well, comfortably off. But this is different. Are you very rich?
His firm mouth twitched. 'I'm afraid so. I can only plead that a good deal of my wealth is the result of no doubt ill gotten gains from my merchant ancestors.'
She nodded like a child, glad to have had something explained. `Yes, I see. You don't think that I am marrying you for your money, Rijk?'
He said gently, `No, Sophie, I don't think that.'
`Because I'm not. Money's nice to have, isn't it? But it isn't as important as other things. If if I say I'll marry you it wouldn't make any difference to me if you were on the dole.'
He crossed the room to where she was still standing and took both her hands in his, bent his head, and kissed her. A gentle kiss, as gentle as his voice had been. It reassured her so that she said, `Well, that's all right, then, isn't it?"
'Perfectly all right. Come and pour the tea and I'll tell you what I have to do tomorrow.'
He was going to Brussels to examine some highly connected man with a suspected brain tumour. `I shall be away all day. Mother and Father would like you to go with them on a visit to my grandmother-she lives in Heerenveen-for lunch and tea. I hope to be back in time for dinner.'
`You aren't going to drive all that way there and back?' She sounded, did she but know it, like an anxious wife, and he smiled.
`No, I shall fly. I have a light plane I use from time to time.'
`You can fly as well?'
`It saves a great deal of time. Do you drive a car, Sophie?"
'Oh, yes. I take Father round when I'm home; my brothers taught me.'
`Good; we are a little isolated here, but if you have a car you will be able to go where and when you like.' And at her anxious look, he added, `When I am not at home.'
In bed that night, reviewing her day, she knew that she would marry Rijk. He had, of course, all this time behaved as though she had already agreed to do so, although she was aware that he was prepared to wait for her answer when they got back to England. Her mind made up, there was no point in staying awake; she slept dreamlessly and never heard the plane's engines from a nearby field as Rijk flew off to Brussels.
She was disappointed to find him gone when she went down to breakfast, but, his parents being at the table too, she had no time to brood over that. Bidden to be ready by ten o'clock, she took Matt for a walk in the grounds and joined them in the hall. Rijk's father drove an elderly, beautifully maintained Daimler, and Sophie had expected to be taken at a gentle speed to Heerenveen, but the elderly doctor drove with a speed sometimes alarming on the narrow roads, and since his wife, sitting with Sophie in the back, appeared to find this quite normal, Sophie said nothing, but watched the rolling countryside and made suitable replies to her companions' friendly talk.
Heerenveen was rather nice, she decided as their driver at last slowed down to go through the town and take a narrow road which presently revealed a small lake. Old Mevrouw van Taak ter Wij sma lived in a fair-sized square house close to the water, with a sprinkling of small houses along the road, cared for by several devoted servants. She went out seldom, but kept a sharp eye on her numerous family. She was a tall old lady, very thin, with a high bridged nose and bright blue eyes, dressed in black with a great many gold chains, and she received them in a room overlooking the lake, furnished with old-fashioned heavy furniture, its small tables covered by photos in silver frames, and great cabinets along its walls loaded with beautiful porcelain. She offered a cheek to her son and daughter-in-law and then studied Sophie at some length.
`So you're the girl that Rijk intends to marry. At least you match him with height. Nice-looking too. You'll make him a good wife, no doubt.'
Sophie murmured suitably; there seemed no point in explaining that she hadn't actually said that she would marry Rijk and didn't intend to until he asked her if her mind was made up. She was told to sit by the old lady and spent the next hour making the right replies to that lady's questions.
Lunch was a solemn, long-drawn-out meal and afterwards, their hostess retiring for a brief nap, Sophie was invited to look round the house with Rijk's mother, and by the time they had peered into a great many rather gloomy rooms it was time to join the old lady for milkless tea and very small biscuits.
Presently they drove back to Rijk's home, his father, doubtless pleased at having been able to leave before it was quite dark, driving with a carefree speed which set Sophie's neat head of hair on end.
Rijk was home and came to help his mother and Sophie out of the car while Matt got in everyone's way. As they went indoors he took Sophie's arm.
`And did you like Granny?' he asked. She nodded. `She's a darling...'
He paused in the hall so that for a moment they were alone. `She phoned just now; she says you're a darling too.'
For a moment Sophie thought that he would kiss her, but he didn't; he only smiled.
CHAPTER SIX
THERE were only two days left. Sophie went down to breakfast in the morning wondering if Rijk had any plans.
He had: a walk down to the village to meet the dominie and look round the church and then, since it was a clear, cold day, a walk along the lakeside to an outlying farm which he owned. `And in the afternoon, if you would like, we will drive to Groningen and take a look round-there's a rather splendid church and the university.'
On the way to the village presently he told her that they would go back to his parents' house on the following day, lunch there, and then come back and have an early dinner before driving down to the Hoek to catch the night ferry.
Sophie agreed cheerfully, thankful that she had bought her presents when they had gone to Leeuwarden. `Do phone your people if you would like to,' went on Rijk. `We should be back around nine o'clock.'
`Would you like to stay? There's plenty of room-Mother will expect you for lunch, I'm sure.'
`Lunch, by all means, but I've a consultation in the afternoon and I'm operating on the following day and then going to Leeds for a couple of days...'
`But it's almost Christmas...'
`Which I shall have to spend away from home-I did tell you.'
`I forgot. So we can't see each other for a while?"
'No.' He tucked a hand under her elbow. `May I come and see you on my way home?' He smiled at her. `Life is one long rush, isn't it?ff
'In four days' time? You want to know...' She paused and he said easily, `Yes, please, Sophie.'
The dominie was a bearded giant of a man.
His wife, fair-haired and blue-eyed, offered coffee and took Sophie to see the youngest of their children, a calmly sleeping baby. `The other three are at school. You like children?"
'Yes,' said Sophie and blushed when her companion said cheerfully,
`Of course, Rijk will want a family.'
They went round the church when they had had coffee, a severely plain edifice with whitewashed walls and small latticed windows. A number of Rijk's ancestors were buried beneath its flagstoned floor and even more in the small churchyard. His family had lived there for a very long time-centuries.
Presently they said goodbye to the dominie and his wife and took a rough little lane skirting the lake. It was very quiet there and they walked briskly, arm in arm, stopping now and then while he pointed out some thing of interest, telling her about the people and the country round them. Presently they came to the farm, a flat dwelling with a tiled and thatched roof, its huge barn at its back. `The cows live there throughout the winter,' explained Rijk. `Come inside with me and meet Wendel and Sierou.'
The farmer was middle-aged and powerfully built and his wife was almost as stoutly
built as he was. After the first polite greetings, Rijk murmured an apology and carried on the conversation in Friese. Dutch is bad enough, reflected Sophie, Friese is far worse; but she enjoyed sitting there in the vast kitchen, drinking more coffee and listening to Rijk's quiet voice and the farmer's rumbling replies.
They got up to go presently and walked back the way they had come, and over lunch presently the talk had been of a variety of matters, none of them personal. Rijk's parents had been out too and lunched with them, but they didn't linger over the meal since they were to drive to Groningen.
Rijk cut through to the motorway from Drachten to Groningen, a journey of twentyfive miles or so, which, while quick, missed a good deal of the smaller villages. `We shall come home through the side-roads,' he promised her.
