by Betty Neels
He had the door open for her. ‘Goodnight, Duert. It was a lovely holiday, thank you.’
She went to bed and wept herself to sleep for, although she loved him so much, she had no idea how to break down the barrier of reserve he had built up against her.
They were away by ten o’clock, and back in Leiden that afternoon. Duert had offered to drive her to Delft and then return to the hospital, but she sensed that he was impatient to stop in Leiden. ‘It’s still quite early,’ she pointed out in her matter-of-fact way. ‘I’m quite comfortable in the car, why not call in on your way home?’
She saw that he was relieved at that, but when they got to the hospital he took her in with him, saw her into the consultants’ room and arranged for her to have a tea-tray. ‘I don’t suppose I shall be too long,’ he told her. ‘Just one or two matters to attend to.’
Venetia drank her tea, puzzled her way through a medical journal lying on the table, got out her notebook and roughly jotted down several matters which would require her attention when they got back, had another look at the journal, did her face, and then wandered round the sombre room, reading with great difficulty the various notices hanging on the notice-board and inspecting the portraits of bygone consultants adorning its walls. She whiled away an hour in this manner, and then went back to her rather uncomfortable chair. She had plenty to think about, but upon reflection she decided not to think too deeply; the future was beginning to loom and she wasn’t too happy about it. She closed her eyes and dozed off.
She woke half an hour later. The afternoon had slipped away into evening, and the profound silence of the room was daunting. Perhaps she had been forgotten? She got up and went to open the door on to a silent corridor. There would be no harm in looking round… She closed the door behind her and walked to the end of the corridor where it met a kind of roundabout of passages. The one to her left looked promising. Besides, there was a noise at the end of it—familiar hospital noise which reassured her. She walked to the end just in time to see Duert coming out of a lift with two white-coated men. He didn’t see her, and by the time she had found her surprised voice they had disappeared down yet another corridor.
She must be mad to love a man who could forget her so utterly, it was already all of two hours—he had probably forgotten that he was married. The strong desire to leave the hospital, find a taxi and be driven, at great expense, all the way to Delft was something she managed to suppress. She went back to the consultants’ room and sat down again. There was still half a cup of tepid tea in the pot. She drank it, her thoughts on the splendid meal she would eat if, and when, she ever got to Delft.
She went back along the corridor after another half an hour, and kindly Fate allowed Duert to turn into it from another corridor. He stopped short when he saw her, and the look on his face more than repaid her for her long wait. She had never seen him looking other than completely self-possessed, angry or not, but now his handsome features registered the utmost disquiet.
‘My dear girl,’ he said and took her hands in his. ‘I am so sorry…’
‘You forgot me,’ she observed flatly. ‘It’s perfectly all right, your work comes first, doesn’t it? But if you could spare the time, perhaps you would ask someone to find me a taxi and I’ll go back h…to Delft.’
He wasn’t the man to smooth over an awkward situation. ‘Yes, I did forget you, Venetia. Please, forgive me. I’ll take you home now.’
‘Will you have to come back?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then get me a taxi.’
She could have saved her breath. He walked her out of the hospital, ushered her into the Bentley and drove her to Delft, handed her over to Domus, then turned round and drove back to Leiden again.
Domus picked up her cases. He said slowly in Dutch so that she could understand him, ‘The professor is a busy man, alas. You will dine at once, mevrouw?’
So Venetia tidied her person without much attention and ate her dinner alone. She felt better after that, and went along to the kitchen to see Truus, and then to her room to unpack and take her presents down to the kitchen and, at the same time, make sure that everything was ready for Anneta’s return. That done, she went to the drawing-room and sat down with Digby, an open book on her lap, not reading a word.
It was quite late when Duert came home. She had got Truus to cut sandwiches and leave the coffee ready on the Aga, and she went into the hall with the dog as he came in.
He was tired, her loving eyes saw that at a glance. She said quickly, ‘Truus made some sandwiches, and there’s coffee. I’ll fetch it.’
She hadn’t expected the mocking smile. ‘We mustn’t allow this to become a habit, must we? There was no need for you to stay up, Venetia. They look after me very well at the hospital.’
She was a mild-tempered girl, slow to anger, but now she had had enough. ‘Oh, good!’ she snapped. ‘I don’t need to concern myself about you any more—so silly of me—there must have been someone running after you, feeding you and seeing that you had clean shirts since the day you were born.’ She added loudly, ‘And people doing just what you want them to do…’ she sniffed ‘…and then getting forgotten for hours on end.’
He had flung his case down on a chair and crossed the hall towards her, but if she stayed another minute she would burst into tears. She rushed up the staircase and into her room and shut the door.
She undressed in a welter of tears and, quite worn out, got into bed, where she went on weeping into her pillow for quite some time, no longer quite sure why she was crying, but, none the less, most unhappy.
She overslept, and by the time she got downstairs Duert had been gone for some time. There was a note on her plate from him asking her to go with Domus to fetch Anneta from Schiphol, and telling her that he would do his best to get home in good time for dinner that evening.
‘Oh, well,’ muttered Venetia to herself, ‘I had that coming to me, I suppose.’
Anneta’s flight was due in at half-past two, and she came through Customs, her arms laden with packages, wearing a leather outfit which was far too hot for the time of year, and which Venetia was sure Duert would frown upon. She flung herself at Venetia with cries of delight, talking all the time while Domus saw to her luggage.
‘I have had the most heavenly time,’ she declared. ‘The party was really something—’ she broke off. ‘Where’s Duert?’
‘He couldn’t get away—he’ll be home as soon as he can this evening.’
They were in the car speeding back to Delft.
‘I wouldn’t stand for it if I were you,’ said Anneta. ‘He’ll forget he’s married if you’re not careful.’ She sighed. ‘I wouldn’t put up with it. I need romance not just now and then, but all the time.’ She glanced at Venetia. ‘Is Duert romantic?’
Venetia felt her cheeks glow. ‘I shan’t answer that,’ she said. ‘Now, tell me about your holiday. Did you meet anyone nice?’
‘Lots of boys, and one or two men.’ Something in her voice made Venetia look at her sharply, but she returned the look guilelessly, going on to give a racy account of her days. It all sounded harmless enough, thought Venetia worriedly, but at the back of her mind was the nagging thought that Anneta wasn’t telling her everything.
‘And you?’ asked Anneta. ‘Did you have fun? I’ve only met Aunt Millicent once. I thought she was pretty dreary.’
‘Not a bit of it. We had a lovely time. It’s a simply heavenly spot to live in, too. We walked miles.’
Anneta gave a mock sigh. ‘I suppose it would be all right for you and Duert—I mean, if you’re in love with someone I don’t suppose you mind where you are.’
True enough. Venetia agreed with her, and asked if her clothes had been all right.
‘Oh, yes, but I bought a few things in Paris. It would have been silly not to, wouldn’t it?’
‘You found time to shop?’
‘Oh, of course,’ said Anneta airily, and changed the conversation abruptly.
Duert ca
me home early, to be hugged and kissed by Anneta, and in the flurry of greetings and excited chatter it went unnoticed that he did no more than nod coolly at Venetia, who fielded it back with an icy stare which should have frozen him to the bone, but merely caused him to smile thinly.
On the surface, life settled down to the usual round of pleasant jobs around the house, walks with Digby, shopping and driving lessons. After several more weeks Venetia passed her driving test, so they were able to drive around the country and, rather more cautiously, into den Haag to shop. They had resumed their work at the children’s hospital, too, and Venetia was relieved that Anneta seemed willing enough to do her share of the work there. Indeed, after a short time she asked Venetia if she might do an extra afternoon there. ‘And no need for you to come in, too,’ she declared. ‘I know everyone there now, and Wim can drive me in…’
‘Well, I could, too…’
‘You come and fetch me if you like. Six o’clock outside the main doors. Every Friday.’
So, on one of the rare occasions when Venetia found herself alone with Duert, she was able to tell him that Anneta had settled down very well, and had even volunteered to work extra hours with the children.
‘Oh, yes, of course—the children’s hospital in Amsterdam. You go there, too, don’t you?’
She bit back the tart remark on her tongue. ‘Yes,’ she told him mildly. ‘Anneta will go in with Wim on Friday, and I’ll drive in and fetch her.’ She added, ‘I can drive now, you know.’
He looked down his nose at her. ‘I hadn’t forgotten, Venetia.’
But he wasn’t always so unresponsive. They were invited out a good deal, not always with Anneta, and then he was exactly as an attentive husband should be. And when from time to time they entertained in their turn he was the perfect host. Sometimes Venetia almost lost heart. The weeks were passing and the warm friendliness they had shared at Selcombe showed no sign of returning. She busied herself running the house efficiently with Truus to guide her, spending a good deal of time with Anneta, and she congratulated herself that at least the girl had changed for the better. Indeed, she was showing a real interest in the children, and when after a week or two she mentioned that she had been asked to work at the convalescent annexe of the hospital Venetia applauded her enthusiasm.
She was taken aback, though, when Duert told them that he would be going over to London in a week’s time and they could go with him. ‘There’s surely some shopping you want to do,’ he remarked carelessly, ‘and we can do a theatre or two.’
Venetia had known that they would be going, and had even mentioned it to Anneta, but now Anneta flew into a sudden fit of temper. ‘But I don’t want to go!’ she stormed. ‘There’s so much to do here. You two go—I should think you’d be glad to be on your own. I don’t want to miss the tennis, and we were all going to Katwijk to swim…’
‘I’ll only be there for a couple of weeks,’ said Duert mildly, although his eyes were thoughtful. ‘In another month or so you’ll get all the tennis and swimming you want with your aunt.’
For answer Anneta burst into tears and flew out of the room.
‘What did I say wrong?’ asked Duert in a voice which dared her to tell him.
So she said quietly, ‘Nothing, Duert. I’ll talk to her. I’m sure she’ll change her mind.’
‘I don’t want to leave her here on her own.’
‘Then I’ll stay with her.’
His dark eyes searched her face. ‘You would like that? Rather than come to London with me?’
‘Oh, no. I want to go with you.’ She had spoken eagerly, but his questioning look brought her up short. ‘The garden will be in full bloom,’ she said the first thing which came into her head, ‘and the Heath will be lovely. Besides, Anneta and I can shop.’
He said silkily, ‘Just for a moment I thought you might have another reason.’ He got up and crossed over to the door. ‘I have some work to do—I’m sure that you’ll do your best with Anneta.’
She watched him go. It seemed to her that he avoided being with her for as much of the time as he could, and yet at Salcombe they had spent their days happily walking and talking. Perhaps because there had been no one else, she thought unhappily.
Presently she went upstairs and knocked on Anneta’s door. She was bidden to go in, and to her surprise she found Anneta all smiles.
She got up off her bed and flung her arm around Venetia’s shoulders. ‘Darling Venetia, I’m sorry I was so cross, and I can’t think why. I’d love to go to Hampstead with you both. We can shop, can’t we? And go for walks on the Heath, and I’ve friends, too, I can go and see them.’
‘Yes, of course you can, dear. I’m so glad you’ve changed your mind, for Duert was disappointed…’
‘Oh, well, now he can cheer up. When are we going?’
‘I don’t know exactly—I expect he’ll tell us as soon as he’s got his theatre lists made up. I think we’ll be gone for at least a fortnight, perhaps three weeks. Even so, you’ll still have time to visit all your friends here before you go.’
‘I hope I’ll like it in the States—all my friends—I shall miss them.’
‘You’ll make new ones. Besides, it only takes a few hours to fly over these days.’
‘I’ll come back with a multimillionaire,’ said Anneta, and giggled.
‘I dare say there are plenty to choose from,’ said Venetia, ‘but do remember that money isn’t half as important as being happy.’
‘I’d be unhappy without it,’ said Anneta. ‘Wouldn’t you?’
‘Well, no, but then, you see, for quite a few years before I married Duert I hadn’t any money—at least, only just enough to get by.’
‘Would you have married Duert if he had had no money?’
‘Oh, yes, and when you fall in love you’ll see what I mean.’ She got up. ‘Are you coming downstairs to tell Duert that you are going with us?’
They went a week later, and Duert expected to be at St Jude’s for at least two weeks. Anneta had become quite enthusiastic about it, and had written to several of her friends in London arranging meetings. ‘You won’t mind?’ she wanted to know. ‘They’re all old friends, and Duert knows them, and it’ll be a chance to say goodbye to them.’ She had danced off to go through her wardrobe, ready to pack, and Venetia had heaved a sigh of relief. The girl had changed enormously—ready to fall in with Duert’s wishes, and adamant, too, that she should continue to go to the children’s hospital in Amsterdam until the very last day before they were to leave Holland.
Venetia had cried off. There was too much to see to in the house, and last-minute phone calls to make, but halfway through the afternoon she remembered that she had forgotten to tell her teacher that her Dutch lessons would have to be put off for a few weeks. She owed money for her lessons, too, so she got out the car and drove into Delft, found the flat where the old Mijnheer de Wolke lived, explained it all to him, paid her debts and drank a cup of tea with him and his wife, and then hurried back to the car. She was getting in when she paused to stare down the street. She was parked on Oude Delft, a tree-lined street running beside the main canal, and as usual it was crowded, but ahead of her, on the other side of the canal, she thought she had seen Anneta. Even as she looked a party of cyclists blocked out her view, and when they had passed there was no sign of anyone even faintly resembling Anneta.
Venetia got into the car and drove home. It couldn’t have been Anneta—she was in Amsterdam. There were, after all, any number of pretty girls like her, and why would she be in Delft, anyway? She allowed common sense to take over, but it didn’t quite blot out a vague uneasiness.
She finished her packing and went out into the garden. Duert had said that he would be late home, and Anneta had promised to be back in time for tea. A friend was giving her a lift, she had told Venetia when she had suggested that she should fetch her. And sure enough, Venetia hadn’t been outside for more than half an hour when a car drove up, deposited Anneta at the gates and drove off.
Anneta ran to meet her. ‘Hello,’ she called. ‘See how punctual I am. Such a busy day, too—all those children and the noise…’
‘You’re tired, dear? We’ll have tea. Duert’s going to be late home.’
‘I’ll finish my packing after tea. Have you been busy?’
Venetia said, ‘Not particularly. I had to go to Delft—I forgot to tell Mijnheer de Wolke that I’d be away for a bit, and I hadn’t paid him.’ She glanced at Anneta. ‘So silly, I thought I saw you there on Oude Delft—you with a man.’
The change of expression on Anneta’s face was so swift that she decided she had imagined it. ‘Me? In Delft? Darling Venetia, how could it have been me?’
‘I know. I said I was silly. Let’s have tea, shall we?’
They waited dinner for Duert, and the meal was eaten in the highest spirits. Anneta was at the top of her form, teasing Duert, planning shopping trips with Venetia, going into endless detail about the friends she intended visiting while they were at Hampstead. She skipped off to her room soon after they had had coffee, and Duert picked up the post which had been put by his chair. ‘You’ll forgive me if I see to this lot? I won’t have time in the morning. I can dictate the replies and Juffrouw Floos can see to them after we have gone.’
Juffrouw Floos was his secretary, a formidable lady, who spoke Dutch to Venetia very slowly and clearly and expected to be answered in the same language. Venetia was a little scared of her.
She nodded cheerfully, for she had expected him to do just that the moment Anneta had gone. When he had closed the door quietly behind him she picked up her tapestry work once more, her unhappy thoughts keeping pace with her flying needle.
She was her usual composed self in the morning, making sure that everything was just so before they left while Duert took Digby for a quick walk. Anneta had come down to breakfast punctually for once, and had gone upstairs to check that she had everything she would need and phone Mieke. ‘Just to say goodbye…’
