A Christmas Wish

by Betty Neels

  ‘No hope of that. He’s bringing Rita with him next weekend and she hates Friesland—too cold and empty.’

  He didn’t say any more for Nel, who had gone to the other end of the room to play with Achilles, had joined them again.

  Haso came back presently and they sat around, carrying on a desultory conversation over their sherry, and presently they went to lunch.

  Over that meal, Dirk broached his plans for the afternoon. ‘I’ll drive,’ he offered, ‘if you’re tired.’

  ‘On the contrary, driving relaxes me. I think it is a very good idea. When do we go?’

  Olivia, nervous at the idea of being with Mr van der Eisler for hours on end and at the same time overjoyed at the prospect, settled beside him in the car with a cautious air which secretly amused him. She need not have worried; the outing was a tremendous success. He took the road to Sneek, going south until they reached the little town, and then driving along narrow country roads, still covered by snow, so that she might see the lakes, frozen now, although not yet safe for skating. He joined a main road presently and, when they were almost back in Leeuwarden, turned north.

  ‘Dokkum, I think,’ he observed. ‘A nice old town—we might stop there and have coffee and then take a quick look at Lauwers Meer.’ He glanced at Olivia. ‘You’re comfortable?’

  ‘Yes, oh, yes, thank you. It’s beautiful, isn’t it? So still and everything covered by snow. Is it always like this in the winter?’

  ‘Not always, but usually we have snow during the winter.’ He looked over his shoulder at Dirk. ‘When did we last go skating for more than a few days?’

  ‘Two years ago—last year the ice didn’t hold. We might get a day in before these two go back. Do you skate, Olivia?’

  ‘No—at least, roller-skating, but I don’t think that’s the same, is it?’

  ‘But you can balance—it should be easy. Here’s Dokkum. We’ll have coffee at de Posthoorn.’

  Olivia was enchanted by the little town, with its canal running through its centre and the old houses leaning against each other on either side of it. The hotel was very old and shabby, in a nice way, and when she asked for tea instead of coffee she was served a glass of hot water and a tea-bag. Nel, drinking hot chocolate, thought it was very funny, chattering away happily, the very picture of a contented small girl.

  It was cold outside and there was no one much about; Nel walked between the two men, skipping and jumping over the snow, and Mr van der Eisler drew Olivia close and tucked her hand under his arm.

  There wasn’t much to see and it was too cold to stand about so they went briskly back to the car, stopping on the way to buy four pokes of potat frites with generous dollops of pickles on top, which they sat and ate in the car.

  Mr van der Eisler, offering Achilles the last of the chips, said, ‘It must be years since I ate these. I’d forgotten how delicious they are.’

  Olivia poised the last of the pickle on a chip and took a bite. ‘Why don’t we do this in England?’ she wanted to know, and glanced at Nel with a warm smile. The child was so happy—it was a pity she had to go away from all this kindness and fun. It was a pity, too, she reflected, that she had to go as well.

  She wasn’t going to let such thoughts sadden her, though. Dirk was fun but Haso was a perfect companion; she could have sat for hours on end beside him while he drove. It was strange, she thought, that she felt so at ease with him when by rights she should have been feeling awkward, spending hours in the company of a man she loved but who treated her with kindly indifference and at the same time, she had to admit, made sure of her comfort. He would do that anyway, she reminded herself, for his manners were impeccable. She had a fleeting uneasy memory of the icy stare he had given her when he had arrived that morning. She had taken care not to meet his eyes since then and she wondered if they were still as cold.

  They were still going north, this time to the coast. The villages were few and far between but the road was clear of snow, although the fields on either side were white as far as her eye could see.

  ‘What do people do here?’ she asked.

  ‘Shrimp-fishing and a big fish auction at Zoutkamp. We’re going round the Wadden Meer—Zoutkamp is on the farther side. Actually we are on the border of Groningen and Friesland, but we turn to the west presently and then we are back in Friesland again. We’ll take the road through Engwierum and pick up the ElO at Buitenpost.’

  It was almost dark by the time they got back, to be welcomed by Mevrouw van der Eisler with piping-hot coffee in the lovely drawing-room. Nel was tired and a little excited, and wanted to stay up for dinner again, but Haso said no in the nicest possible way, which gave Olivia the chance to suggest that supper in bed might be quite fun.

  ‘If you’ll stay with me,’ demanded Nel.

  ‘If you promise to eat every scrap and go to sleep afterwards.’

  ‘We are all going to church in the morning,’ said Mr van der Eisler cheerfully, ‘and after lunch we might take Achilles for a walk. You’d like that?’

  The next day’s plans having been made, Olivia bore Nel upstairs and, presently bathed, and, by then quite sleepy, the child sat up in her pretty room, her supper on a tray before her. A very tasty supper too—little pastry tarts filled with creamed chicken, a few potat frites, the merest suggestion of carrot purée and to follow this a little dish of poffertjes—tiny, crisp pancakes, smothered in fine sugar. The glass of warm milk which accompanied these dainties was drunk almost unnoticed and without any persuasion on Olivia’s part. It only remained for her to take away the tray and tuck the little girl in, kiss her goodnight and turn on the little nightlight—a small comfort which it seemed Juffrouw Schalk had vetoed.

  In her room Olivia showered and got into the one dress she had brought with her. It was a pretty shade of blue, plainly made of good material, and hopelessly out of date. ‘Not that it matters,’ she muttered, bundling up her hair in a ruthless fashion.

  A discreet tap on the door surprised her. It was Tober with the request that she should join the professor in his study at her convenience.

  ‘I’ll come now,’ said Olivia. Of course he was going to tell her when she was to go back to England with Nel—or without the child? Hadn’t he said that Rita was to accompany him when he came the following weekend? So they hadn’t decided about Nel yet. She slowed her steps—or they had decided, and Nel was to stay with her mother and he and she were to marry.

  Her head full of muddled thoughts, she knocked on the study door.

  Mr van der Eisler was sitting behind his desk with the faithful Achilles beside him. He got up as she went in.

  ‘Come and sit here, nearer the fire,’ he invited. ‘You must find it colder here than in London.’

  ‘Well, yes, but it’s a nice cold, isn’t it? Dry and bright.’

  She sat down, her hands still in her lap, and waited for him to speak. He sat back in his chair, watching her. He thought she looked beautiful in the dull blue dress. ‘You’re happy here, Olivia?’

  ‘Yes, thank you.’

  ‘So is Nel, but of course matters cannot remain as they are, you realise that?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Do you have any plans as to your future? A job in mind?’

  She shook her head. ‘No, but of course as soon as I get home I’ll find something to do. Miss Cross promised me a good reference—for a similar post, you know.’

  ‘But it is too late for such a job until the summer term, surely?’

  She had hoped he wouldn’t think of that. ‘Well, yes, but it would be nice to be at home with my mother for a little while.’

  He smiled. ‘My dear girl, do you take me for a fool? I have met your grandmother and am only too aware that living with her is by no means ideal for you or for your mother.’

  She said coldly, ‘You have no need to bother with my affairs, Mr van der Eisler.’ She met his gaze. ‘I am quite able to manage my own life.’

  His smile widened. ‘You wouldn’t consider workin
g over here in Holland?’

  She was too surprised to speak for a moment. ‘Here, in Holland? What as? I haven’t any skills.’

  ‘There is plenty of work for someone like yourself.’ But she only shook her head, and after a moment he said, ‘I shall be bringing Nel’s mother here next weekend—her future must be settled before any other matter can be considered. Once that is decided you and I can talk.’

  ‘What about?’ asked Olivia.

  ‘Why, you and I, Olivia.’ He got up. ‘Shall we join the others for a drink before dinner?’

  As they walked across the hall he asked idly, ‘You get on well with Dirk?’

  A straightforward remark she could answer. ‘Oh, yes, he’s a dear, isn’t he? If I’d had a brother I would have liked him to be just like Dirk. He’s very young still, isn’t he? All those girlfriends.’

  ‘Something all men experience when they are young.’

  She stood still for a moment. ‘You too?’

  ‘Certainly. It smooths the rough edges, as it were, while waiting for the one woman in the world…’

  ‘She might not come.’

  ‘Oh, but she does. Make no mistake about that.’

  He was looking at her very intently and she looked away. He was thinking of Rita, no doubt.

  They all went to church in the morning, standing in a row in the family pew, Olivia with one arm round Nel, her other shoulder wedged against Haso’s vast person. The hymns were familiar, even though the words meant nothing to her, and the dominee thundered his sermon from the pulpit in what she considered a very severe manner, but when she was introduced to him as they left she found him to be a mild man with a splendid knowledge of English and a friendly manner.

  They ate their lunch and then got back into their outdoor things and took Nel for a walk, with Achilles racing to and fro. Haso and Dirk talked comfortably of the village and the country round them and never mentioned Rita once.

  Mr van der Eisler was to leave after tea. They all went into the hall to see him off but Olivia slipped back into the drawing-room when she thought no one was looking—after all, she wasn’t one of the family.

  Of course Haso had seen her; he made his goodbyes, kissed and hugged Nel, and went back into the drawing-room.

  ‘Are you not going to wish me goodbye?’ he wanted to know.

  She had retreated to the window overlooking the garden. ‘I hope you have a good drive back,’ she told him soberly, ‘and a successful week.’

  ‘Certainly it will be a busy one.’ He crossed the room to stand close by her. ‘When I come again everything should be settled. Until then you do understand, do you not, that there is nothing I can say.’

  About working in Holland? she wondered, and raised a puzzled face to his. He stared down at her for a long moment.

  ‘And so much for my good resolutions,’ said Mr van der Eisler in a goaded voice, and swept her into his arms and kissed her soundly.

  Even if she had intended to demur she had no chance. He had gone before she had got her breath back.

  CHAPTER NINE

  OLIVIA stood where he had left her, her heart galloping along at a great rate. As well as surprise, happiness was welling up and threatening to choke her. Why had he kissed her, and in such a manner? And what had he meant about good resolutions?

  She allowed her thoughts to become daydreams, standing there in the centre of the room until the others, returning, shook them free.

  ‘The house always seems so empty when Haso isn’t here,’ said Dirk. ‘A pity I shan’t be here next week to see him—and Rita.’

  ‘You will stay for another day or two?’ asked his mother.

  ‘Oh, yes. I need to be back in Leiden on Wednesday— I’m starting that new course then.’

  ‘But you are qualified?’ asked Olivia, glad of something to talk about.

  ‘Oh, yes, but by no means finished. I can’t hope to be as brilliant as Haso, but I shall do my best to uphold the family name.’

  ‘Surgery or medicine?’

  ‘Oh, surgery, it’s in the blood, you know, generations of us.’ He saw Nel’s downcast face. ‘Who’s for a game of Ludo?’

  Two days later she saw him drive away with real regret. He had been an amusing companion and delightful with Nel, and he had made her laugh, something she rarely did at her grandmother’s home. She was honest enough to admit to herself that even if he had done none of these things she would have liked him because he was Haso’s brother, and anything or anyone close to Haso was close to her too.

  There were several days before Haso would come again and there was Nel to keep happy. Because she thought it would please him, she did her best to persuade Nel to live with her mother during her holidays. She didn’t have much success, but she persevered.

  The snow had ceased several days ago although it still lay thick on the ground. The sky was a cold blue and the sun shone, albeit just as cold as the sky. They wrapped themselves up and went walking, and one day Mevrouw van der Eisler took them to Leeuwarden, with Tober driving.

  They had lunch at a large restaurant—Onder de Luifel—and then they went to the shops and Olivia, with woefully few coins in her purse, bought two small vases in the local pottery, wishing that she had had the money to buy some of the silverware—delicate spoons, small bon-bon dishes and silver wire brooches. Her companion admired the vases and wished that Haso had done something about paying Olivia. After all, the poor girl had been whisked over to Holland at a moment’s notice, with no chance to go to a bank. Perhaps, thought Mevrouw van der Eisler, she hadn’t got a bank. Haso would be vexed when he knew about it. Having more than enough money himself, he nevertheless was thoughtful of the needs of other people. Too generous, she reflected, remembering the money Rita had borrowed from him from time to time and never repaid. Even with the money Rob had left her, and her well-paid job, she never had enough to pay for all the expensive clothes she loved.

  Olivia viewed the approaching weekend with some anxiety; so did his mother. True, Haso had said that he had no intention of marrying Rita, but she was a clever young woman—pretty and amusing, and charming when she wished to be. Olivia longed to see Haso again but she doubted if they would be together at all—and how was she to behave? As though he hadn’t kissed her? As though she had found it an amusing episode and dismissed it as such? And would he tell her when she was to return to England? Whatever was decided, surely Nel would have to go back to school as soon as possible? And, worst of all, had Rita coerced him into marrying her?

  She lay wakeful, wondering about that. If, she reflected, I had been someone like Rita, would he have fallen in love with me and married me? She thought that he might. Given the right clothes and background she would have competed with Rita quite happily and probably won. She shook up the big square pillows and closed her eyes. Negative thinking, she told herself sternly, gets you nowhere, my girl.

  She took Nel down to the village to buy sweets on Saturday morning because to wait in the house for Haso and Rita was too nerve-racking. Far better for them to return after they had arrived when any awkwardness would be glossed over in the bustle of greetings. Mevrouw van der Eisler, when consulted, had agreed. ‘The child’s on edge. I do hope that Rita has agreed to Haso’s proposal and that everything is arranged satisfactorily.’

  Proposal, thought Olivia unhappily, but she went off with Nel and spent a long time in the village shop buying toffee. When they got back the Bentley was in front of the house and at the sight of it Nel’s small fingers curled tightly around Olivia’s hand.

  ‘We’ll go and say hello quickly,’ said Olivia, ‘and then go and tidy ourselves. It will soon be time for lunch.’

  ‘It will be nice to see Uncle Haso again,’ said Nel in a very small voice.

  ‘And Mummy. I’m sure she’s excited at seeing you again.’

  Nel gave her an old-fashioned look. ‘Don’t be silly,’ she said.

  They went round the house to one of the side doors and got out of their wel
lies and outdoor things. Olivia was of two minds as to whether to creep up the back stairs and do something to their ruffled persons before going to the drawing-room, but Anke had seen them and swept them along, lecturing them sternly in her own tongue and flinging the drawing-room door wide.

  They stood on the threshold and the persons gathered there turned to look at them.

  Mevrouw van der Eisler and her son spoke at the same time. ‘Good, here you are, my dears,’ and ‘You’ve been to the village to buy toffee,’ said Mr van der Eisler, and tossed a delighted Nel into the air and gave Olivia the briefest of smiles.

  Rita didn’t get up from her chair but held out her arms. ‘Nel, how very untidy you are. I don’t think Olivia can be a very good nanny. Come here and give me a kiss.’

  And when the child went reluctantly she put her arms around her. ‘Have you missed me?’

  ‘Olivia is a very good nanny,’ said Nel in a shaky voice, ‘and she’s not a nanny, she’s a person. Like you or Granny or Mevrouw van der Eisler.’

  Her mother said impatiently, ‘Yes, yes, of course she is. Now go away and have your hair brushed and your hands washed. Why is there a bulge in your cheek? What are you eating?’

  ‘Toffee. The village shop…’

  ‘Yes, yes, never mind that now. It’s almost time for lunch and then Uncle Haso is going to talk to you.’

  All this time she had ignored Olivia who, in response to Mevrouw van der Eisler’s beckoning finger, had gone to sit by her. Mr van der Eisler, in his chair again with Achilles beside him, took no part in the conversation. What his thoughts were could be anybody’s guess.

  Well, we will know soon enough, thought Olivia, and I for one can’t get back home soon enough. She was aware that this idea had no vestige of truth in it; to go back to England never seeing Haso again wasn’t to be borne and, worse, the thought of his marrying Rita made her feel sick.

  The woman looked so right against the background of the lovely old house—casual tweeds, costing the earth, boots of leather as supple as silk, a cashmere jumper, hair with not a single strand out of place, perfect make-up…