by Betty Neels
She made a grimace at her lovely reflection, jammed on her woollen cap and went downstairs, to find that Taro had brought the car round from the shed and was leaning on its bonnet, talking to Penny. They made a striking couple, she admitted to herself a little sourly.
It was on their way back, the eggs safely collected and in a basket on the back seat, that Penny, sitting beside Alexandra, chattering away quite amiably, suddenly leaned over and tried to wrench the wheel from her grasp.
The car swung across the road, hit a tree with its rear bumper, and lurched alarmingly before Alexandra managed to push Penny away, and with all her strength, regain control. And when Penny lunged forward once more, Alexandra slapped her hard, using her left hand while she hung on to the wheel with the other. She felt her palm slam into the other girl’s cheek. ‘Sorry, Penny,’ she said in a voice a little shaky with fright, ‘but I had to do that.’
She heard the girl whimpering beside her, but she didn’t take her eyes off the road. It was empty, and a good thing too, she thought, putting her foot firmly down on the accelerator—the quicker they got back to the cottage the better. It came into sight round the next bend, and she heaved a sigh of relief; she was shaking now and a good burst of tears would have helped, but she turned the car into the short drive and stopped before the door and turned to Penny, so intent on asking what had come over her that she barely noticed the doctor and his aunt standing in the porch. But Penny had seen them; she was out of the car, running headlong into Taro’s arms, sobbing incoherently, leaving Alexandra to follow her.
‘Look what she did!’ Penny’s voice was a pitiful wail. ‘She hit me—she went right across the road and drove into a tree and when I tried to steer for her, she hit me…’
Alexandra opened her mouth and then shut it again; Penny was having a brainstorm. In a few moments, when she was calmer, she would explain what had really happened.
‘You hit her?’ The doctor’s voice was astonished.
‘I slapped her—I had to…’
‘Did it have to be quite so hard?’ He wasn’t astonished now, just coldly polite.
Alexandra looked at Penny—there was indeed a red mark on her cheek, but if she hadn’t slapped her they might even now be in the ditch, the pair of them, with even worse injuries than a reddened cheek. She said again: ‘It was necessary.’
‘She was trying to make me remember,’ said Penny, still in the same pitiful voice, ‘and she got cross because I couldn’t. She’s damaged the car too, I heard it—I think it was the bumper.’
Miss Thrums had said nothing so far. ‘Whatever happened,’ she stated reasonably, ‘I think it would be only fair to hear what Alexandra has to say—and would we not be more comfortable indoors?’
In the sitting-room Alexandra took off her coat and watched the doctor performing the same office for Penny; he fetched something from his case too and attended to the fast disappearing patch on her cheek. He kissed it lightly when he had done and Alexandra choked back a snort of rage and turned her back; but only for a moment. Within seconds she faced them again, ready to give her explanation with calm reasonableness.
It was a pity that the doctor remarked, still very polite: ‘You gave me to understand that you were a good driver.’
Sweet reasonableness flew out of her head and temper took over. ‘Did I now? I must have got carried away, mustn’t I?’
Impatience took over from politeness. ‘There is no need to be flippant.’
‘No?’ Her voice, despite her best efforts, rose a little. ‘What else should I be? Miss Thrums suggested that I might have something to say, but you aren’t interested, are you?’
He answered her stiffly: ‘I beg your pardon. I had every intention of asking you.’
‘Pooh!’ Her temper had risen nicely now, adding a sparkle to her eyes and a glow to her cheeks. ‘I don’t believe it, and since you’ve already decided to whom you’re going to listen, I’ll not take up another minute of your time. I’m sure you’ll have no difficulty in finding someone with years of driving experience to take my place. I’m going to pack.’
She started for the door, to pause by Penny, still standing in the shelter of the doctor’s arm. ‘You had only to tell me that you didn’t like me,’ she told her quite gently. ‘I would have gone without any fuss, you know—there was no need to go to such lengths…’
She made a dignified exit, shut the door quietly behind her and raced upstairs, where she packed with great speed and a sad lack of neatness, telling herself meanwhile that she was glad to be going, resolutely swallowing the tears she wouldn’t allow herself to shed. It had all happened in a great hurry and perhaps she was being foolish; she didn’t care, she had to get away from the house—and more than that, she had to get away from Taro, who didn’t trust her.
CHAPTER FIVE
THERE was no one to be seen when she opened her bedroom door, and no sound. She peered over the stair rail and then went quietly down the hall, rather impeded by her suitcase. The hall was empty; she trod across it, suddenly aware that she would have to walk all the way to the village and hire its taxi. She was passing the closed door of the sitting-room when it was opened and the doctor stopped her by putting a hand on her arm and at the same time taking her case from her and putting that on the floor behind him, which meant that to reach it she would have to push him to one side; a physical impossibility. So she stood still, looking past him. When he said: ‘Alexandra, I’m sorry—will you come in here so that I can talk to you?’ she lifted indignant eyes to his.
‘No, I will not!’ she declared firmly. A waste of breath; he lifted her gently off her feet and swung her round so that she found herself beside the case, and he shutting the door very gently behind her.
He said patiently: ‘You’re angry with me, and rightly so, but my dear girl, where is your tolerance, your womanly understanding? Put yourself in my place, confronted as I was by Penny in a state of hysteria, and you, looking like a ghost and shaking like a leaf.’
‘I was not shaking like a leaf…’
‘Oh, yes, you were.’ His voice had been lightly mocking, but now it became harsh. ‘You could have been killed.’
‘Pooh—in that car? Doing a steady forty? Don’t be melodramatic, Doctor van Dresselhuys.’
He looked as though he wanted to laugh. ‘My dear good girl, you have this regrettable habit of saying “Pooh”. But I don’t wish to discuss your failings, rather your attributes.’ He paused to run his eyes over her person. ‘Your—er—nursing attributes. You have done Penny a great deal of good, and contrary to your impetuous conclusion, she likes you. Indeed, she has just told me that she has absolutely no recollection of any of the unfortunate happenings which occurred.’
Alexandra stared at him. ‘Not remember?’ she asked in amazement. ‘But she said…you heard her.’
‘I heard what she said, but she assures me that she can remember nothing at all—only that she found herself in this sitting-room.’
She was still staring at him, but she wasn’t thinking about Penny at all. He was standing close to her, so close that she could, if she had a mind to, have leaned forward just a little and laid her head on his shoulder and had a good cry; it would have relieved her churned-up feelings splendidly. She spurned the thought and studied his face. He was undoubtedly the best-looking man she had ever seen, even when he was in a bad temper, but she didn’t love him for his looks; she began to wonder what she did love him for…
‘I suspect that your mind is not on the subject under discussion, Alexandra.’ His voice was bland, but his eyes were intent. ‘I wonder what you are thinking?’
It seemed best not to answer that; she said after a moment: ‘What do you intend to do?’
‘Ask you to go upstairs and unpack your things—beg you, if necessary, to stay.’
She knew then that she had been afraid that he would let her go; relief flooded over her, but all she asked was: ‘You think that will really help?’
‘Yes. Perhaps
this afternoon’s happenings were the tip of the iceberg; Penny acted without conscious thought, and we must help her all we can. Will you stay? Please, Alexandra?’
She gave him the briefest possible glance. There was no mockery or coldness in his face now. ‘Very well,’ she told him briefly, ‘if you think it will be of some use. I’ll take my case up to my room, or is there anything else you want to discuss? What about Miss Thrums’ car? I’m afraid I’ve damaged it.’
‘I’ll deal with that, and I think the less we say about the whole matter the better, don’t you agree? I shall be seeing Mr Thrush shortly; I believe the time has come to investigate Penny a little more fully—would you stay until that is done?’
He didn’t wait for her answer but picked up her case and led the way back upstairs.
It was after he had gone that afternoon, while they were sitting round the fire, the three of them, that Alexandra allowed herself to think about Penny’s strange behaviour in the car. The doctor had said that she had been unaware of what she had done, but she thought uneasily that that wasn’t the case. She had seen Penny’s eyes when she had tried to grab the wheel, and they had been the eyes of someone quite aware of what she was doing. And in that case, why had she done it?
During the days which followed, she could discover nothing which might help to solve the riddle. Penny acted towards her as she had always done—with a friendly, rather helpless manner which showed not the faintest hint of dislike. They went for quite long walks together and into Needham Market to shop and even, on the days when the weather permitted, pottered in the garden; she had never been so amenable, and Alexandra and Miss Thrums congratulated each other on her progress while they waited with outward patience for a word from the doctor.
He arrived on New Year’s Day, with Penny still in bed and Alexandra and Miss Thrums busy in the kitchen getting the breakfast, so that they were quite unprepared for his sudden, silent appearance at the kitchen door—at least Alexandra was; Miss Thrums merely broke a number of eggs into the frying pan, remarking: ‘Ah, dear boy, there you are, how very nice to see you again. Alexandra, you will have to make a good deal more toast.’ She put up her face for his kiss and smiled at him before turning back to the eggs.
Alexandra, cutting bread, avoided his eyes, afraid that he might see her delight at his coming; she said a quick: ‘Hullo’ and bent once more to her loaf. Only when she had damped down her feelings did she ask:
‘Where on earth did you sleep? I thought the ferry didn’t get in to Harwich until about now.’
He leaned across the table and took a slice of bread. ‘There are other ways of getting here,’ he told her carelessly, and set about buttering his bread with a lavish hand. ‘How’s Penny?’
‘Very well—happy too, isn’t she, Miss Thrums?’
‘Yes, dear. How very glad I am that you didn’t go away—we should have been so uncomfortable with a stranger.’ She looked round at her nephew. ‘Have you been working hard, Taro?’
He bit into his slice. ‘So-so, Aunty. I managed to see Thrush and we’ve come up with an idea between us. I’m going to take Penny back with me to Holland and get van Toller to have a look at her. You’ll both come too, of course.’ He smiled at them both in turn. ‘This evening.’
His aunt dished up the eggs. ‘What a splendid idea, Taro. When are we to go?’
Alexandra stopped cutting bread. She was a level-headed girl, but now she was startled. People—at least, the people she knew—didn’t walk into a house at breakfast time and state that the household was to be uprooted in less than twenty-four hours. Of all the arrogance, she fumed silently—did he really suppose that she would meekly pack her bags and fall in with his high-handed wishes?
It seemed that he did, for as he leaned forward to take another slice of bread he remarked casually: ‘I hope you’re one of those people who keep their passports handy, Alexandra.’
‘I do have it in my case,’ she began, and then went on a little crossly: ‘But don’t imagine for one moment that I intend to be rushed into going abroad—talk about a moment’s notice…’ She drew a long, indignant breath. ‘The very idea!’
‘You’re sounding off like a timid maiden lady, dear girl. Do remember that you’re still young and healthy and—er—robust enough to take a small thing like an unexpected trip in your stride. I had no idea that you would carry on in this fashion.’ He smiled at her with patient indulgence which made her even crosser. ‘After all, Aunty hasn’t turned a hair.’
‘I am not your aunt,’ Alexandra pointed out, ‘and I’m not in a temper either.’ She caught his eye and despite herself, burst out laughing.
‘That’s better.’ He leaned over the table and kissed her on the end of her nose. ‘And now what about breakfast, I’m famished.’
Alexandra, during that meal, allowed herself to be drawn into the discussion over their journey. She had taken up Penny’s breakfast as usual, with strict instructions to say nothing about Taro’s arrival or plans; now they sat round the kitchen table, making arrangements; at least, the doctor did the arranging, Miss Thrums and Alexandra kept his cup and plate filled and agreed meekly to what he had to say. They would travel in the Morris, its bumper happily repaired, and they would go by the night ferry from Harwich.
‘But where to?’ asked Alexandra. ‘It’s all very well, you know, but I haven’t the slightest idea where we’re going; I simply must let my family know.’
‘Close to Leiden—that’s about eleven miles from The Hague—telephone your mother presently and tell her that you’ll telephone again as soon as we arrive, you can give her the address then.’
Alexandra frowned. ‘I haven’t any clothes.’
She regretted the words immediately; he eyed her up and down without haste, remarking blandly: ‘Dear girl, there’s a lot I could say in answer to that, but I don’t like to upset Aunty’s sense of modesty. Could you not buy what you need when we get there? Contrary to your statement, I find, to my disappointment, that you appear to be more than adequately covered.’
‘Taro,’ said his aunt sternly.
‘Dear Aunty, what have I said?’ His voice held all the innocence of a child. He looked at Alexandra, who was trying not to laugh. ‘A dress, a coat, things to go underneath them, shoes and stockings—no, tights, isn’t it? Something to cover your hair? You have all those things here, have you not?’
The two ladies exchanged a look. ‘Men!’ exclaimed Alexandra in disgust. ‘They have no idea, have they?’
‘None, my dear—although I do think that the clothes which you have with you should do very well.’
Her nephew beamed at her. ‘Thank you, Aunty, I’m sure that Alexandra will listen to you.’ He passed his cup for more coffee. ‘That’s settled, then. I’ll tell Penny when she comes down, then I’d better go and have a look at the car.’
Alexandra, feeling swamped by circumstance, collected her wits. ‘How long are we to be there?’
He looked vague. ‘Who knows? Two weeks, three…it rather depends on van Toller.’ He smiled at her. ‘You don’t know who he is, either, do you? A professor of Leiden Medical School—rather a well-known authority on amnesia. I’m hoping he’ll have some ideas about Penny.’
Alexandra did her best to ignore the smile and asked matter-of-factly: ‘But she hasn’t a passport, has she? How can she go?’
‘Oh, I’ve settled that. She’ll be issued with a temporary one—I have to collect it on our way—special circumstances, you know.’
She didn’t know, but she nodded. ‘I can’t speak Dutch,’ she observed.
He laughed. ‘What a girl you are for looking on the bright side! You won’t need to, and if you should have to, I feel sure that you’ll cope with our tiresome language with the same aplomb as you cope with everything else.’
‘Thank you for your good opinion, Doctor van Dresselhuys.’ She was aware that he had got his own way, which annoyed her. At the same time, the idea of accompanying him to his home was exciting; more tha
n that, it had, she was bound to admit, driven every sensible thought from her head.
Later, of course, she came to her senses. She had been there when he had told Penny what he intended to do, and seen the girl’s delight and his own smiling amusement at it, and had heard his reply when she had asked him if he were pleased to be taking her to his home. He had said: ‘It is something I have been thinking about and planning, Penny,’ and he had thrown an arm round her shoulders and smiled down at her, and Alexandra had been horrified at the strength of her own feelings as she watched. She had forced herself to think of other things, packing and getting the house ready to leave for a week or two; Miss Thrums had gone to a neighbouring friend with Sambo and Rover, and when she returned the doctor had busied himself looking over the car, and Penny had stayed with him, saying casually when she was asked if she would like to pack her things, that Alexandra could do it for her, and saying it so charmingly that there was nothing to do but go along to her room and put her few clothes into the case Miss Thrums had provided.
They had a late lunch and left before tea, for although there was no great distance to go, Penny’s passport had to be collected in Ipswich. The doctor parked the car there, and he and Penny went off to see about it, leaving his aunt and Alexandra to find their way to the Great White Horse Hotel and order tea for the four of them. They came back in half an hour and Penny looked radiant.
Alexandra began to wish that she had never agreed to come; in the delightful anticipation of the doctor’s company for the next week or so, she had almost convinced herself that he was only interested in Penny as a patient, but now she could see that she had been deluding herself—like a silly lovesick schoolgirl, she told herself disgustedly.
She accepted a cup of tea from Miss Thrums with a too bright smile, reflecting that life, at the moment, wasn’t at all what she would wish it to be—in fact it hadn’t been much fun for weeks now; there had been Anthony to start with, she couldn’t recall a single moment…she paused, a portion of muffin poised on her fork, suspended half-way to her mouth…there had; how could she have forgotten the cobweb morning? She smiled, remembering its brief enchantment, and became aware that Taro was looking at her. It was a disquieting look; searching and faintly amused, and yet somehow it conveyed the idea that he knew exactly what she was thinking. She just went on staring back at him, unable to think of anything to say to break the moment, and he made no effort to help her, although the amusement turned into a smile of such understanding that she might have said heaven knew what if Miss Thrums hadn’t broken the spell with a prosaic remark about the tea they were drinking, so that Alexandra popped in the bit of muffin with the feeling that she had saved herself from appearing a fool, and that only at the very last minute.
