by Betty Neels
Her aunt made an agreeing sound and then asked: ‘Freddy? Is he with you? I had a postcard about three weeks ago—he said he’d be leaving soon.’
‘He’s not here, he’s flying back—I’ll tell you later. He’s fine.’ Annis added ‘bye’ quickly before her aunt could think of anything else to say and went back to the car.
Neither of its occupants appeared impatient; she was smilingly reinstated beside Cor, asked by Jake if she wanted to stop anywhere on their way, and when she said no, she didn’t think so, was gently told to sit back and enjoy the ride.
Which she did. Cor was surprisingly well-informed about everything; she could only suppose Jake took him into his confidence about most things. He had, he said, never been to Spitzbergen although he hoped to do so one day. Norway he knew fairly well; he had been there during the war, fighting with the Norwegians because he had been staying with an aunt who lived at Narvik. ‘And naturally, miss, I got to know the country, moving around as we did.’
He was nice, Annis decided, and his manner was exactly right. She had never had anything much to do with servants, but she was forcefully reminded of an old-fashioned family retainer who, while never over-stepping his place, was all part and parcel of that same family. One day, when she had got to know him better, she would ask him how long he had been with Jake.
They were on the point of leaving the M3 when Jake spoke quietly from the back. ‘Cor, make for Middle Wallop, will you? I’m sure Annis would like tea and I’ve a fancy to see a place with a name like that.’ He added: ‘Fifehead Manor, Cor.’
Cor answered him in Dutch and they both laughed gently as Cor sent the car surging ahead.
Fifehead Manor was a country house, and the tea it served was elegant; the three of them sat devouring cucumber sandwiches, fruit cake and tiny sugar-topped cakes while Annis wielded the teapot. As she put her cup down she said wonderingly: ‘Cor, you’re awfully good at finding your way—have you been here before?’
His nice face wrinkled into a smile. ‘No, Miss Brown; the doctor told me exactly where we should be going and all I had to do was look at my map.’
‘Oh, I see.’ She looked at Jake. ‘Do you usually drive yourself? I mean, when your legs are OK?’
He smiled slowly. ‘Always, my dear. Shall we go? If you’re ready?’
As she directed Cor off the road at Mere and told him to park a few yards down the narrow lane, she wondered what Jake would think of Great-Aunt Mary’s house, but she had no time to worry about that as she led the way down the little path by the stream with cottages on the further side of it, each with its own little plank bridge. Riverside Cottage looked small but very pretty as they reached it, and: ‘Mind the planks,’ warned Annis as she went across and then turned back. ‘Jake, can you manage? If I take a crutch and you hold the rail?’
But he managed very well without anyone’s help and they went through the wooden gate and up the short path to the porch. There was no need to knock, Great-Aunt Mary had flung open the door and was waiting for them.
She embraced Annis first, said in a clarion voice: ‘No ring, Annis?’ and then turned to Jake. ‘Jake? I am delighted to meet you—what a very large man you are, to be sure. Come inside—and this is Cor?’ She shook hands and retired into the narrow little hall so that they could get in too, then ushered them into her tiny drawing room, charming with its flower-patterned curtains and Victorian furniture. It seemed even tinier with Jake in it, looking dubiously at the crinoline chairs which would most certainly collapse under his weight. His hostess interpreted his glance and observed in her brisk way: ‘You’d better sit on the sofa, Jake, it’s a stout piece belonging to my grandfather.’ She added: ‘Annis, you didn’t mention what a very large man he is.’
Annis had perched on one of the velvet-covered chairs. ‘No—well, I didn’t think…that is, I’m used to Jake being big and I hardly notice…’
He came to her rescue. ‘I hope you won’t notice either, Miss Brown, or at least, I hope you will get used to me once I’m in the family.’
Great-Aunt Mary looked him over and then smiled at him. ‘I think I shall like you and I daresay you’re just what Annis needs. We’ll have a drink to that.’
The drink was home-made parsnip wine and Annis, sipping cautiously because she knew how potent it was, watched Jake’s face as he tasted it. To his credit his expression didn’t change, although his eyes darkened with amusement, and as for Cor, he prudently waited until everyone else had tasted it before trying it himself.
‘Delicious,’ pronounced Jake. ‘You make all your own wines, Miss Brown?’
‘Call me Great-Aunt Mary,’ said that lady gruffly. ‘Yes, I do—you shall take a bottle back with you.’
Which they did, after two days of planning and telephoning and finding someone to look after Tim the cat while Miss Brown would be at the wedding. Cor disappeared discreetly each day, appearing miraculously whenever he was needed and Jake—Jake, Annis had to admit, was a great success with her aunt, just as he was a great success with her. He might not be a very romantic man, but he made her feel wanted…
They had decided to spend a day in London on the way back so that Annis could buy her wedding dress and meet Carol, who had agreed excitedly to be a bridesmaid, and it was still fairly early in the morning when they left Mere and Cor set the Bristol racing towards London. And this time Annis sat in the back with Jake, making lists and doing sums, while he listened idly to her mutterings. She didn’t suppose he was very interested in what she intended to wear, but he was too polite to say so. He argued the superiority of organza over crêpe-de-chine, agreed that a short veil was much prettier than a long one and asked her what flowers she wished to carry. The journey passed very pleasantly and after lunch at Claridge’s she was put in Cor’s care and driven to Carol’s little flat in Highgate, where the two girls spent a feverish hour discussing the wedding.
They went shopping the next day and Annis, quite carried away with an excitement she tried to suppress, bought a creamy organza gown and the short veil Jake preferred. It took most of the morning and she would have happily gone on buying, only Jake reminded her gently that they were crossing to Holland that evening and anything else she wanted she could buy just as easily there. ‘We’ll go shopping together,’ he promised her, and smiled his slow, friendly smile.
She had really had no time to enjoy the hotel or its luxuries, she thought, getting ready for bed on the ferry later. Everything had been done in such a rush, and yet Jake hadn’t appeared to hurry her at all; perhaps it was because so much had happened in so short a time. She curled up in her bunk going over the conversations they had had; he had been sweet and charmingly thoughtful of her, but now she had time to ponder everything, he hadn’t kissed her once; not since they had arrived in England. She frowned and slept.
CHAPTER SIX
THEY ARRIVED so early in the morning at Vlissingen that there was no time and no inclination for breakfast. Annis had a cup of tea in her cabin and then joined Jake and Cor as the disembodied voice from the loudspeakers asked everyone to go to their cars. There was no delay; they were off the ferry, through Customs and driving down a narrow unmade lane before she had quite realised that they were actually in Holland.
‘About half an hour,’ said Jake beside her, ‘it’s motorway all the way.’ He smiled. ‘It’s a pleasant morning in which to see Holland for the first time.’
And indeed it was; the pearly sky was pinkened by the sun’s rays and the flat green land lay serene around them. Annis could see factory chimneys in the distance and the fringe of Middelburg, its orderly rows of suburban houses and flats concealing the lovely heart of the city.
Jake sat back in his corner, watching her, telling her a little of the country they were passing through until he observed: ‘There’s the TV tower at Goes,’ and said something to Cor in his own language. Cor laughed as he answered him and Annis suddenly felt scared; Jake’s mother, until that moment a nebulous figure in the safely distant futu
re, was here, waiting for her. Panic churned her insides and she let out a held breath when he said placidly: ‘Feeling scared, Annis? No need.’ He put out a hand and took hers in it, engulfing it comfortingly. ‘The town centre is down that street we’re just passing, we go down the next one.’
It was a wide thoroughfare, tree-lined and with rather heavy red brick houses set in well-cared-for gardens, and she was conscious of a vague disappointment. She had expected something really Dutch, like a picture by one of the Old Masters. She wasn’t disappointed. Cor sent the car down a narrow road which took them back towards the town’s centre and presently it opened into a narrow street beside a wide canal lined with trees, and beyond them, facing the water, houses, tall and narrow with gabled roofs topping their three or four storeys. Cor stopped the car before one of the tallest, its great windows surrounded by elaborate plaster work, its massive door heavily carved.
‘Home,’ said Jake, and bent and kissed her gently before giving her back her hand.
Cor went ahead of them, across the brick pavement, then opened the door and stood aside for them to go inside. A glass vestibule opened into a narrow lofty hall, carpeted in a rich shade of burgundy, its white-painted walls lighted by crystal sconces, and at one side, under a wide arch, Annis caught a glimpse of a staircase. Walking beside Jake as he stomped along on his gutter crutches, she thought how different it was from what she had imagined it might be—and then didn’t think at all as he leaned forward and opened a door at the end of the hall.
The room was square and not too large, its high ceiling adorned with strap work, its walls panelled in some dark wood. There was a distinctly Victorian flavour about its furniture; a round rosewood table stood in the centre of the fine carpet, there were glass-fronted bookcases on either side of the marble fireplace, and the chairs arranged here and there were large, comfortable and covered in rich velvets.
A lady was seated in one of these chairs, very upright. She was grey-haired and elderly and, Annis saw with a sinking heart, of majestic appearance. And when she rose to her feet it was apparent that she was as tall as Annis, rather stout and possessed of handsome rather than good looks, just as her son had said. Annis, taking in the expensive, beautifully cut dress, thought rather defiantly that she wouldn’t allow herself to be intimidated by Jake’s formidable mother—far worse than she had imagined. Jake’s cheerful voice broke up her thoughts: ‘Mama, how nice of you to be waiting for us—so early too.’ He bent to kiss her cheek. ‘And here is Annis.’
How bald, thought Annis; here’s Annis, take her or leave her. She held out a hand and smiled nicely because after all she did love Jake very much, enough to put up with a rather fierce-looking mother-in-law if she had to.
But it wasn’t like that at all. Jake’s mother took her hand and then bent her head to kiss her warmly. ‘My dear child,’ she declared in vibrant tones, ‘you have no idea how delighted I am—the whole family too, that Jake has found himself a wife, and such a pretty one too.’ She beamed down at her. ‘And doubly welcome because you are English. My husband’s mother was an Englishwoman and indeed, there have been any number married into the family over the years. Now do let us have breakfast and then Jake can go away and do whatever he wants and we can have a nice little talk.’
Annis murmured something and Jake agreed placidly; he would always agree placidly, decided Annis, unless it was something he didn’t want to do, and then nothing would make him do it. She allowed herself to be led back into the hall by a strapping pink-cheeked girl in a cotton dress and a very clean white apron, whose name was Ellie, and through the arch and up the oak staircase curving to the next floor where she was shown into a room overlooking the garden at the back of the house. It was at the end of a long narrow passage, with other passages leading from it, some with a step or two up or down, so that she was a little doubtful of finding her way down again but she didn’t worry about that; the room was worth a little journey; it wasn’t too large and it was very light by reason of the enormous window draped in pale chintz, it was furnished with a little canopied bed, a walnut sofa table with a triple gilded mirror upon it, a tallboy, also of walnut, and a comfortable chair or two. The two doors in its damask-hung walls led to a very large clothes closet and a bathroom which lacked, as far as she could see, nothing at all. She explored slowly and then, in a panic that she would keep the others waiting, did her face and hair and started off on the return journey. She had reached the end of the passage when she heard Jake’s mild bellow: ‘Annis? Turn left when you reach the small landing and go through the archway—the staircase is there.’
And so it was, or at least a branch of it; the rest wandered off in quite another direction. She reached the bottom and found him waiting for her.
‘You shall have a conducted tour later,’ he promised her. ‘The house is a rabbit warren, but we don’t notice it, having lived in it all our lives. I’m going down to the hospital presently and then on to see my partners; you’ll be all right with my mother?’
She said oh yes, of course, and hoped she sounded as certain of it as he obviously expected her to be, not sure whether to be relieved or hurt at his careless friendliness. The memory of Ola caught her in a little gust of regret; she had no feeling for him any more, but she couldn’t forget the romance of it all. And just as though he had read her thoughts, Jake said softly: ‘You’ll forget, my poor dear, I swear you will—I’ll see to that.’
She looked up at him, on the verge of telling him that there wasn’t anything to forget; she even began: ‘Jake…’ but he interrupted her with: ‘You’ll feel more the thing when you’ve had breakfast.’
Which she did. There was nothing like a cup of excellent coffee to pull one together; she found herself enjoying rolls and butter and toast and answering Mevrouw van Germert’s measured questions readily enough. The feeling that she was going to like that lady was growing stronger every minute; she might look formidable, but she was surprisingly kind and the kindness was genuine, with no attempt to ingratiate herself, and although some of her questions were searching they were born of natural curiosity and nothing else. Presently Jake left them, with a swift kiss on the cheek for Annis and the same salute for his parent. He would be back in an hour or so, he told them, and perhaps they could get some plans made while he was away.
‘And you can ignore that,’ said his mother as he went out of the room. ‘Jake will have made all the plans he thinks necessary and will merely listen patiently to what we have to say and then go his own way. He always has.’
Annis said nothing. Somehow or other, however long it took, she would make Jake fall in love with her; not just the friendly affection he felt for her now, but a good blazing fire of feeling, and until then she was prepared to ignore everything else. She listened serenely to her companion explaining the procedure of marriage in Holland, not taking in much of it, volunteered the information that Jake had suggested a family wedding and that she had agreed, and allowed Mevrouw van Germert to embark on a list of van Germert relations who would expect to be invited. It was a long list; it took her until Ellie came in with the morning coffee.
Jake wasn’t back by lunch time. They ate it in the dining room, a large apartment with an oval table, seating a dozen persons, a carved side-table and a William and Mary display cabinet of great beauty between the windows.
‘You will be wondering,’ observed Mevrouw van Germert, as she passed a critical eye over the dish of aubergine au gratin she was being offered, ‘why I am here, because this is not my home, as you possibly know. It is at Jake’s express wish.’ She threw Annis a quick glance. ‘You probably also know that he is a man of strong views. He has asked that I stay here until your marriage, but I have suggested, and I hope you will agree to this, that you might like to spend a week with me in a few days’ time. Jake will be busy and have very little time to take you round and you might be lonely. You think it a good idea?’
Annis didn’t think it was, but she had no intention of saying so. She wou
ld have liked nothing better than to have stayed with Jake in his house, getting to know him and his home and the people in it, but that wouldn’t do.
‘I should like that,’ she told her hostess, ‘and it’s kind of you to ask me. I could have stayed at home, but Jake thought it would be a good idea if I were to find my feet before we got married.’
‘Such a sensible boy,’ declared his fond parent. ‘His sister has been living here and looking after him, but she is married now and although he has a good housekeeper, she is quite elderly—she was a young woman when I came here as a bride, and to get another younger woman while Katrina is still alive would be cruel.’
‘And so he’s marrying me instead…’ Annis spoke silently, but she didn’t feel sorry for herself; it was a challenge. She agreed pleasantly and remarked upon the strong resemblance between Jake and the severe, beetle-browed gentleman whose portrait was hanging on the wall opposite her.
‘His great-grandfather—a doctor, of course. He had a nasty temper, so I am told. Jake has a nasty temper too. Sooner or later you will get a taste of it, my dear.’ Mevrouw van Germert nodded a regal head. ‘I quickly learned to ignore his dear father’s little outbursts—I’m sure you will do the same with Jake.’ She smiled gently. ‘We will have our coffee in the drawing room and then I will show you the paintings there—they’re rather fine.’
The afternoon passed pleasantly. Annis studied portrait after portrait of Jake’s forebears and saw him in all of them; really, not a single one of them had missed out on the craggy features and the dark brows. She studied the charming flower paintings too and several winter scenes. She supposed that they were valuable but didn’t like to ask; she had a feeling that Mevrouw van Germert had a mind above money. It was a little frightening to find that Jake was so rich. Her own people had lived comfortably enough, but certainly not on his scale, and she hoped that she would be able to live up to it; certainly she would enjoy spending money, buying beautiful clothes and taking a taxi instead of a bus; she might even have a car of her own. She wasn’t a mercenary girl, but the idea was distinctly pleasant.
