by Betty Neels
He stooped and dropped a kiss on to her wet head. `All in good time.'
'Matt's all right?"
'Rauke's giving him a good rub down and a warm meal. He can come and see you presently.'
He scooped her up then and carried her upstairs, with Tyske trotting in front to open the door and throw a blanket over the bed.
`I'll be back,' he told her and went away.
Half an hour later she was in bed, blissfully warm once more, her newly washed hair tied back, sipping warm milk which Tyske brought her before she bustled round the room collecting discarded clothes and tidying up.
When Rijk knocked on the door Matt came in with him, coming to lean against the bed and stare at her, his tongue hanging out with pleasure.
`You splendid brave fellow,' said Sophie and rubbed his rough head in the way he liked best, glad of something to do, because she felt shy of Rijk, who had come to sit on the bed.
He took her hand, but only to feel her pulse, his manner impersonal but friendly. `Feeling better?' he asked.
'I'm fine really. I feel a fraud lying here in bed.' She sat up straighter. `Thank you, Rijk, for saving us-you were so quick. We really couldn't move, you know.'
He was still holding her hand. `Cold, wasn't it?' He smiled at her.
`Very. You've changed? You're all right? And the boy?"
'Gone to Grouw to the hospital there for the night. His mother and father asked me to tell you that they would be indebted to you for the rest of their lives.'
`I was so frightened...'
`Which makes you doubly brave.' He laid her hand on the coverlet. 'You'll eat your supper in bed and then go to sleep.' He got up, towering over her. `I'll look in later just to make sure that you are asleep.'
`You don't have to go anywhere? You'll be here?"
'I'll be here.' He went quietly, with Matt crowding at his heels.
Anneke, one of the housemaids, brought her supper presently: soup, creamed chicken, potatoes whipped to an unbelievable lightness and a creme brulee to finish off. She ate the lot with a splendid appetite and drank the glass of hock accompanying it and when Anneke came for the tray told her in awkward Dutch that she wanted nothing more.
The house was very quiet and the room pleasantly warm; the curtains drawn across the windows shut out the cold dark outside. Sophie closed her eyes and slept. Rijk, coming to see how she fared around midnight, stood for several minutes, looking down at her. She lay curled up in bed, her hands pillowing her cheek, her lovely mouth slightly open, so that
there was no mistaking the faintest of snores. He bent and dropped a kiss on her head and then went away.
She was young and strong and healthy; she got up the next morning feeling none the worse for her ducking. She was halfway down the staircase on her way to breakfast when Rijk's voice stopped her. His study door was half open and he was on the phone and, hearing her own name, she stopped and listened.
He was speaking Dutch, but she understood a word here and there, enough to know that he was saying something about the accident at the lake. It was when he said, laughing, `Oh, Irena,' that she stiffened. He had a rather slow, clear voice and she could pick out more words now. Something about this evening and dinner... He stopped speaking and she nipped smartly upstairs again, and then, as he came from his study and crossed the hall, she started down again. He looked up and saw her and they went into breakfast together.
`You're feeling perfectly fit?' he wanted to know. `It might be a good idea if you stayed indoors today. I've a busy day ahead of me and, alas, I shan't be home for dinner, so have something and go to bed early.'
`Very well. Surely you aren't operating this evening?' She was pleased at her casual tone.
`No.' He stared at her across the table. `An evening engagement with an old patient that I prefer not to put off. I can, of course, do so if you want me at home, but since you are looking quite yourself and it is a matter of some importance I should like to go.'
`No, no, of course you don't have to come home. I've so much to keep me occupied; the days are never long enough. Besides, Tiele is coming to tea.'
She gave him a dazzling smile. `It would be silly of me to ask you to drive carefully, wouldn't it?'
He got up, ready to leave. `Very silly, but rather nice too.' He touched her lightly as he went. `Don't wait up,' he said casually as he went through the door.
CHAPTER NINE
SOPHIE sat at the table after Rijk had gone, feeding Matt pieces of toast while she thought. It had been wrong of her to eavesdrop, she knew that, but if she hadn't she wouldn't have known, would she? She wasn't sure what she did know, but it seemed likely that Rijk was still seeing someone-a woman-whom he had known and perhaps loved or been in love with before he met her and decided that she would fill the empty space he had allocated for a suitable wife. `The heartless brute,' said Sophie in a stony little voice and, since she loved him with all her heart, not meaning a word of it.
She had told Rijk that she would stay indoors, but Matt had to go out; she put on the woolly cap and the loden cloak, stuck her feet into wellies, and took him for a brisk run in the grounds. The sky was still grey and the wind bitter, but the snow had stopped. When she got back to the house Rauke told her that tomorrow everyone would be skating.
Tiele came after lunch, bringing with her another young woman, a friend with whom she had been lunching and who had professed a keen desire to meet Rijk's bride. She was older than Tiele, tall and fair and with cold blue eyes, quite beautifully dressed. Sophie didn't like her and knew that she wasn't liked either, but on the surface at least they appeared good friends, and Tiele-kind, warm-hearted Tiele-noticed nothing, and there was plenty to talk about-the children, the family dinner party, only two days away now, and finally Elisabeth Willenstra's engagement.
`I shall have a big wedding,' she told Sophie, `for we have so many friends, Wim and I. You and Rijk must come, of course-it will be in two months' time. Such a pity that I shall be away for your party, but we're sure to meet again-Rijk has so many friends.' She gave Sophie a sharp glance. `I expect you have met Irena-Irena van Moeren-by now? One of his oldest friends.'
Sophie busied herself with the teapot. `We haven't met yet; there has hardly been time. We had an invitation '
`I'm sure Rijk will have found time.'
There was so much spite in Elisabeth's voice that Tiele looked up. `If he has, it must have been by chance,' she said, `and I'm sure Sophie knows about her, anyway, don't you, Sophie?"
'Oh, yes, of course,' said Sophie. It was surprising how easily the lie tripped off her tongue. It was in a good cause, she decided, for Elisabeth looked disappointed.
Alone again, she allowed herself half an hour's worry about the tiresome Irena. Elisabeth had been trying to needle her; all the same, this Irena van Moeren was someone to reckon with. Sophie decided that she would feel much better if she met the woman...
Rijk was late home, which was a good thing, for Sophie was in a bad temper and ripe for a quarrel.
The same bad temper prevented her from going to Leeuwarden to look for a dress for the family party. She would wear the pink she had bought in London. What did it matter what she wore? she reflected pettishly, wallowing in a gloomy self-pity; no one would notice. And of course by no one she meant Rijk.
She had tried hard to forget Elisabeth Willenstra's sly remarks. All the same, she hadn't been very successful; Irena van Moeren was beginning to loom very large on her horizon, and she wished with all her heart that she didn't need to go to the family gathering.
There was to be a family dinner first before the guests arrived, and Rijk had come home early and spent half a hour with her in the drawingroom before they'd parted to dress, and now she was on the point of going downstairs.
The pink dress had lifted her spirits; it was pretty without being too girlish and flattered her splendid person. She had done her hair in its usual complicated coil, hooked in the diamond earrings, and fastened the pearl necklace; now she
took a last look at her reflection in the pier-glass in her room and, catching up the mohair wrap to keep her warm on their journey, she went downstairs.
Rijk was in the drawing-room, standing by the open French window while Matt pranced around in the snow. Sophie, coming quietly into the room, thought that he was the handsomest man she had ever set eyes on; certainly a dinner-jacket, superbly cut, set off his massive proportions to the very best advantage.
He turned round at the soft sound of her skirt's rustle and studied her at his leisure. `You look beautiful,' he said quietly.
She thanked him just as quietly; she had very little conceit, but she knew that she was looking her best. If only her best would match up to Irena van Moeren.. .
Matt came bounding in to stand obediently and have his great paws wiped clean before going to his basket, and Rijk said, `If you are ready, I think we had better be on our way.'
He was perfectly at ease as they drove to Leeuwarden, telling her about his day's work, asking her what she had been doing, promising that since he was free on the following day he would take her on to the lake and give her her first skating lesson. She answered suitably in a voice so unlike her open manner that he asked her if she was nervous.
`You don't need to be,' he assured her. `The family may be overpowering but they love you and, as for the guests, I'll be there to hold your hand.'
She said, `You have so many friends, haven't you? I shan't remember any names, and will they all speak English?'
`Oh, yes. Although I expect Grandmother will make a point of addressing you in Dutch-she can be very contrary-although I have it from Mother that she approves of you, largely because you look as a woman should look.'
`You mean my clothes?"
'No, Sophie, your person. Your curves are generous and in the right places; she considers that a woman should look like one, not like a beanpole.' He glanced sideways at her in the dimness of the car. `And I do agree with her, I certainly do.'
Her face flamed and she was glad that he couldn't see that. Her `Thank you' was uttered in a prim voice which made him smile.
The whole family were waiting for them as they entered the drawing-room, and she was glad that she had worn the pink dress; she felt comfortable in it and it matched the other dresses there in elegance. Rijk had taken her hand, going from one person to another after they had greeted his parents, reminding her of names. Aunts and uncles, cousins and the older nieces and nephews, there seemed to be no end to them, but presently, after they had drunk their champagne and spoken to everyone, she found herself at the dinner-table, sitting on the right of her father-in-law, and thankfully Loewert was on her other side. Rijk was at the other end of the table, sitting beside his mother, and the meal was conducted in a formal manner since it was, as her host assured her, a most important occasion in the family.
Dinner was lengthy and delicious and, between father and son, Sophie began to enjoy herself. By the time they rose and made their way back to the drawing-room she felt quite at ease, and when Rijk joined her and slipped an arm round her waist she smiled up at him, momentarily forgetful of her worries, only to have them all crowding back into her head as the guests began to arrive and her foreboding was realised.
Irena van Moeren was one of the first to arrive and she was indeed the woman Sophie had seen with Rijk; moreover, she was a strikingly handsome one, not young any more, but beautifully turned out in a black gown of utter simplicity.
That she knew everyone there was obvious and when she reached Rijk and Sophie she lifted her face for his kiss in a way which made it plain that she had done it many times before. She kissed Sophie too, and held her hand, telling her how delighted she was to meet her. `We must become friends,' she said, and sounded as though she really meant it.
If Rijk was in love with her, reflected Sophie, agreeing with false enthusiasm, then she couldn't blame him; Irena was charming and obviously kind and warm-hearted. If Sophie hadn't hated her so thoroughly, she would have liked her. There was no sign of her husband and she must either be married or a widow, for she wore a ring. Perhaps, thought Sophie, allowing her thoughts to wander, Rijk had been unable to marry her when her husband was alive, and, now that he was dead, he was married himself.
She became aware that Irena was saying something to her. 'Rijk has asked me to spend an afternoon with you both, skating on the lake.'
`I don't skate,' said Sophie bleakly. She would have to stand and watch the two of them executing complicated figures together...
`You'll learn in no time, Rijk on one side of you and me on the other.'
Rijk hadn't spoken; she summoned up an enthusiasm she didn't feel and said heartily, `Oh, that sounds wonderful. Do come.' She glanced at Rijk, `I'm not sure when you're free, but if you could bring Irena for lunch one day soon?'
He didn't remind her that he had already told
her that he was free on the following day. `Tomorrow? I'll fetch you, Irena; we'll have an early lunch so that we can get the best of the afternoon.'
`Oh, yes,' Sophie added, `and stay for dinner; I shall look forward to it.'
They were joined by several other guests then and it wasn't until the end of the evening that Sophie spoke to Irena again. She had come over to say goodbye and Sophie said gaily, `Don't forget tomorrow-I do look forward to it.
They were the last to leave; the family had stayed for a little while after the last of the guests had gone, mulling over the evening and then going home, until only Rijk's brothers and parents were left.
`It was a perfectly lovely evening,' declared Sophie, kissing and being kissed. `Thank you very much. I-I feel one of the family now and I hope you will let me be that.'
Mevrouw van Taak ter Wijsma embraced her with warmth. `You dear child, you have been one of us since the moment we saw you. I look forward to a delightful future with my new daughter. You are so exactly right for Rijk.'
Sophie smiled; of course she was right for Rijk, but did he think so too? Was she to be second best in his life? He would be good to her and care for her as his wife, but would he always be eating his heart out for Irena?
If he were, he showed no signs of it as they drove back home. It was a clear night with a bright moon, turning the snow-clad countryside to a fairytale beauty; he talked about their evening and the various people who had been there, apparently not noticing her silence. Only when they got home did he remark that it had been an exciting evening for her and that she must be tired. `Go to bed, my dear,' he told her, `and get some sleep. You have no need to get up for breakfast-I'll fetch Irena about midday and I'm sure that Tyske will cope with lunch.'
A remark which brought her out of her silence. `It was a lovely evening and I am a little tired, but I don't want to stay in bed in the morning. Since you aren't going to the hospital in the morning perhaps we might have breakfast a little later, though?"
'Of course; tell Rauke before you go to bed. Would you like coffee or tea now?'
She shook her head, wished him goodnight, had a word with Rauke, and went to her room. She undressed slowly and got into bed and lay awake long after the house was quiet. The thought of the hours she must spend in Irena's company made her feel quite sick. She slept at last, to dream that Irena had come to the house, accompanied by piles of luggage, and that she herself was transported, in the way of dreams, on to an icy waste and told to skate back to England. It took her all of half an hour, using all her common sense, to face the grey light of early morning.
She got up thankfully and dressed carefully, wishing that she had gone to Leeuwarden as Rijk had suggested and bought some new clothes. She got into corduroy trousers and a heavy sweater and was rewarded by Rijk's genial, 'Ah, all ready to skate, I see.' He had given her face, pinched by worry and lack of sleep, a quick look. `It should be excellent on the lake; there's not much wind. I've been down to have a look and there's plenty of hard, smooth ice, just right for you.' He added kindly, `Of course, if you don't feel like it, you have no need to skate today-there w
ill be ice for some time, I should think.'
She took a reviving sip of coffee. The idea of allowing him and Irena to spend half the day on the lake was sufficient to make her doubly keen to skate; jealousy was a great incentive, she had just discovered, although she despised herself for giving way to it. She said airily, `Oh, but I'm longing to learn-I must be the only person living in Friesland who can't skate.'
He laughed then and began to talk about other things and presently went away to his study to emerge in time to take Matt for a walk before he went to fetch Irena.
Sophie, making sure that lunch was going to be ready by the time they returned, wondered how she was going to get through the day.
Standing at the window, she watched the car stop before the house and Irena and Rijk get out. Irena was laughing, obviously happy, and looking eye-catching in a scarlet anorak and stretch leggings, a scarf, tied with careless elegance, over her blonde hair.
