by Betty Neels
‘Well, yes, I do, especially on an important occasion such as this one.’
Which put her in mind of the forthcoming evening. ‘I’m a little nervous,’ she told him, and added in a rush: ‘You see, it isn’t as if I were an—an ordinary wife—I mean, that—that you had fallen in love with me. Do you suppose that it will notice? That anyone will see the difference?’
He sounded as though he were laughing. ‘No, my dear, no one will see the difference, I can promise you that.’ He added smoothly: ‘Everyone knows about you, Constantia, but not about us.’
She wasn’t sure if she was glad about that or not, but she had no time to worry at it, for he was slowing the car now and in moments he had turned into a side street, which in turn led into a wide avenue lined with trees and with beautiful old houses behind them. He stopped outside one of them, observed calmly: ‘Here we are,’ and got out to open her door.
He kept her arm in his as they crossed the narrow pavement and mounted the double steps to the great front door, and before he could use the knocker, the door was flung open by a very small old man, who ushered them into the vestibule. They hadn’t quite reached the inner door when he darted past them to open that too, and Jeroen said something which made his elderly shoulders shake with laughter.
‘This is Joop,’ said the doctor, ‘he’s been with my grandmother for as long as I can remember. He’s nudging eighty, but I don’t suppose he will ever retire; he has a snug little room here and emerges on important occasions—for the rest of the time he bosses everyone from his chair by the stove.’
Constantia stopped, smiled at the old man, said How do you do in her pretty voice, and offered a hand. The old man took it carefully as though it were something precious and made a short speech, none of which she understood.
‘He’s welcoming you into the family on behalf of the other servants,’ explained Jeroen. He gave her a warm smile. ‘That was very nicely done, Constantia, and all the nicer because it came naturally. Let’s leave our coats and go upstairs.’ He cast his coat on to a magnificent chair standing in a corner of the hall, and took hers. ‘Unless you want to do things to your face?’
‘No—I think I’d rather not look at myself, thank you.’
He laughed at her with gentle mockery and together they went up the curved staircase to the landing above and in through the double doors to one side of it. The room was long and lofty and full of people standing in groups and talking and laughing, so that the noise was considerable. Constantia felt the reassuring pressure of Jeroen’s fingers as they started to cross its carpeted length.
It seemed to her as though the talking stopped and then began again on a small crescendo of welcome, but Jeroen didn’t pause, only nodded and smiled around him as they wove their way through the guests until they reached the great hearth where a fire blazed and a very old lady sat in a straight-backed chair. She was a pretty old lady, with a high-bridged nose and bright blue eyes, her white hair piled in an elaborate knot on top of her head. She smoothed her silken lap with a be-ringed hand and her smile included them both.
‘Jeroen, my dear boy—and you have brought your Constantia.’ She lifted her exquisitely made-up face for his kiss, and continued in her soft voice. ‘Come here, child, and give me a kiss.’
Constantia did as she was bid and then stood silently while the old lady looked her over.
‘Pretty—very pretty.’ The old lady’s English was almost faultless. She nodded to herself in a satisfied way as her sharp eyes took in Constantia’s hair, drawn back into a knot at the nape of her neck, her nicely made-up face, the soft lines of her dress and her capable, well-kept hands. ‘A sweet mouth,’ went on Mevrouw van der Giessen, ‘and kind eyes. Jeroen, you have chosen well.’
The doctor took Constantia’s hand and held it firmly. ‘Yes, Grandmother, I know I have. I am a fortunate man.’
His elderly relative looked at Constantia. ‘He will be a good husband, my dear—the van der Giessens have always been that. And now you shall meet your family.’
She lifted an imperious hand.
It wasn’t the ordeal Constantia had imagined; true, there were an awful lot of strange faces, but they were kind too, their owners welcoming her with a warmth she hadn’t expected, drawing her into the family, making her feel at home. And Jeroen didn’t leave her for one moment; his hand, lightly on her arm, guided her from group to group, making her known to aunts and uncles, cousins, nephews and nieces, until her head reeled with her efforts to remember their names. And indeed, he must have thought of that too, for between one group and the next he said placidly: ‘Don’t worry about names, my dear—no one expects you to remember them all.’
He was on good terms with them all, that was evident; their progress round the room took quite a time and then they were served champagne, and their healths were drunk. Constantia, who wasn’t used to champagne, began to enjoy herself, but presently, when for a few moments they were alone, she asked softly: ‘Jeroen—he’s not here, is he? And I did so want to meet him—or have I missed him? There were so many names…’
Jeroen said almost lazily: ‘I certainly can’t see him, my dear, but I promise you you shall meet very shortly.’
‘Is he so busy?’
‘A very active man, despite his age,’ he assured her. ‘There’s Grandmother beckoning to us, we’re about to be cross-examined…in a nice way, of course, but she likes to keep tabs on all of us.’
The evening had been quite perfect, Constantia decided as they drove back to Delft, although it had been a pity that neither Jeroen’s brothers nor younger sister had been there; but Regina had explained. Juditha was recovering from ’flu, but hoped to be well enough to have lunch at Regina’s house in a few days’ time— ‘She’ll bring Marcus with her, of course—her husband—and Marre and Renaut are still away, but they’ve promised to be back too—you’ll meet them all then,’ she had said hearteningly. ‘We’re rather a large family to swallow all at once, and I must warn you that we do an awful lot of visiting; birthdays and anniversaries, and Christmas and Oude en Nieuw…’
‘I like your family,’ said Constantia, addressing the calm profile beside her. ‘And they were very kind to me—they might have hated me on sight. I’m a foreigner, you know.’
Jeroen smiled a little. ‘So you are—do you know, I’d never given that a thought.’ He slowed to go through Delft’s narrow streets. ‘You looked charming, Constantia, I felt proud of you.’
She turned to look at him as he stopped before the house. ‘How nice of you to say so—thank you. That just shows you what a really expensive dress can do for a woman.’ And when he had helped her out of the car: ‘Don’t worry about me if you want to put this car away. Is there room for it in the garage?’
He took no notice of this, only unlocked the door and ushered her in. ‘Rietje will have left coffee in the kitchen—shall we have some?’ And once they sat at the big scrubbed table, their coffee steaming fragrantly before them, he observed: ‘You look very pretty, Constantia—and it isn’t just the dress.’
She felt a pleased glow spreading under her ribs. ‘Dragons aren’t pretty,’ was all she could find to say. ‘But perhaps I’m not a dragon any more?’
‘Indeed you are, but only in the nicest possible way. Tell me, what did you think of Grandmother?’
They sat over their coffee for half an hour, idly discussing the evening until Constantia looked at the clock and exclaimed: ‘Heavens, look at the time!’ and added anxiously: ‘Do put that lovely car somewhere safe. Wouldn’t it be awful if someone stole it—whatever would he say?’
‘He would be very annoyed,’ he admitted. ‘I’ll help you with the cups first.’
She had set the table for breakfast and tidied the kitchen by the time he got back, and they went together through the house and up the staircase. The old house was very quiet and a faint scent of wax polish, mingled with the scent of the flowers Constantia arranged each day in the hall, caused her to wrinkle her nose appre
ciatively.
At the head of the staircase she paused to look down. ‘This is such a lovely house,’ she said softly, ‘I’d like to stay here for the rest of my days, but I don’t suppose that’s possible.’
‘Why not?’
She turned round to look at his face in the dim light. ‘Well, the upkeep—it must cost thousands of guldens—and taxes and things,’ she added vaguely.
He smiled faintly. ‘I could of course turn into a millionaire… Would that do?’
She shook her head. ‘You’re a doctor and I’d much rather you stayed one—remember what I said about rich people? You’re happy, aren’t you? You like your job and the money doesn’t matter one bit.’ She went on urgently: ‘You mustn’t think because I said that, that I should make a fuss if we had to move. I’d rather be poor and happy.’
‘You are happy, Constantia?’
She realised with something of a shock that she was, very. ‘Yes, I am,’ she told him a little breathlessly.
‘Good,’ said Jeroen softly, and kissed her hard. ‘And now off to bed with you.’
She had pleased him, she thought happily as she got ready for bed, and his family had liked her—it must have been a great relief to him; no wonder he had kissed her like that. She would have to do her best at Regina’s dinner party too—she would wear the crêpe-de-chine again because Jeroen liked her in it, and hope that they would like her too. It had suddenly become very important that they should; she would have gone deeper into this, but sleep took her unawares.
Any doubts she might have had were quite dispelled when they arrived at Regina’s house a few days later. Her sister-in-law lived on the outskirts of den Haag, in Wassenaar, the smart suburb of the wealthy, criss-crossed by shady lanes, lined with villas surrounded by charming gardens.
It was a fine evening, though still chilly, and the children, ready for bed, had been allowed to stay up to say hullo so that even if Constantia had been feeling shy she would have had no chance to remain so for long, for she was at once engulfed in a boisterous greeting, intermingled with the news that they would be coming to stay with their uncle for a night or two in the very near future.
‘We’ll play Monopoly,’ cried Paul, ‘and make doll’s clothes,’ screamed Elisabeth, ‘and teach Prince to beg…’
‘Oh, we will,’ promised Constantia, ‘and Butch has had kittens.’
A piece of news which was received with excited rapture and an instant demand that they might have one of them for a pet. ‘Ask your uncle,’ said Constantia, ‘and your mother and father—not everyone likes cats.’
Whereupon the whole party, arguing lightheartedly, surged upstairs.
Juditha and her husband Willem were in the drawing room, and so were Jeroen’s brothers. Juditha was a smaller, darker version of Regina and about Constantia’s age, and Willem was short and thickset and cheerful. Constantia liked them both on sight; she liked Marre and Renaut too; very like their brother but a good deal younger. They greeted her as zusje amidst a good deal of laughter, and kissed her with gusto, declared that Jeroen had the prettiest wife in the world, and deplored the fact that they hadn’t seen her first.
The children were packed off to bed then, and the rest of them sat around having drinks, laughing and talking and teasing Constantia just a little.
It was Marre who asked: ‘Which car did you come in, Jeroen?’ He was going to say something else, only Renaut interrupted him rather loudly with: ‘I’m thinking of getting one of the new Citroëns—what do you think?’ The warning look he shot at Marre was quite lost on Constantia, who was talking to Regina and Juditha, but the two sisters exchanged speaking glances over her head; she didn’t hear Jeroen’s very quiet voice say something in his own language, either.
Dinner was a gay affair, eaten in a panelled room which Constantia decided wasn’t a patch on the dining room in Jeroen’s house. Which reminded her to say to Renaut, sitting beside her: ‘I still have to meet the relation who lets Jeroen live in his house—he must be a very nice man, and I’m longing to meet him—you know him, I expect?’
Her new brother-in-law’s blue eyes twinkled. ‘Oh, indeed I do—very well, and he is very nice—we’ve all known him, all our lives.’
‘He must be quite old—I don’t know how he can bear not to live in his lovely house, but perhaps his other house in the country is just as lovely.’
‘It is—I’ve been there. I think you would like that too—it’s up in the north—in Friesland.’
‘Oh, that’s why we haven’t seen him, I expect,’ said Constantia. ‘Jeroen doesn’t have much time to spare.’
He agreed with her gravely. ‘He loves his work.’
She beamed at him. ‘You’re a doctor too, aren’t you?’
‘On the bottom rung as yet—Marre is forging ahead, though, he’s in the Path. Lab.’ He wrinkled his fine nose. ‘Test tubes and microscopes—they’re not for me—nor for Jeroen.’
She said warmly, ‘He’s the nicest man I’ve ever met,’ and then blushed a bright pink at Renaut’s look.
‘I rather thought you might say that,’ he told her. ‘Indeed, I should have been surprised if you hadn’t.’
She glanced across the table to where Jeroen sat and caught his eye and smiled happily at him; her little world was quite perfect—or very nearly so. The thought surprised her, because she wasn’t sure why.
It seemed that friends had been asked to call after dinner, a way of introducing Constantia to the people she was bound to meet now that she was one of the family, Regina told her comfortably.
‘Some of them are…’ she wrinkled her small high-bridged nose delightfully, ‘well, they’ve known the family for ages, but don’t worry, Jeroen or Juditha or I will stick close to you. You’ll be invited to this and that, but just smile and say that you must ask Jeroen…here they come now.’
She got up and went to meet the first of her guests, and Constantia found Jeroen beside her, saying comfortably in her ear: ‘I’m afraid we’re such a large family that we know a great number of people. Don’t worry, my dear, just smile at them all and murmur—you murmur very prettily.’
So she murmured at a bewildering number of new faces, moving from one group to the other and always with Jeroen or one of his sisters with her. It was while she was with Regina, talking to a formidable group of elderly matrons, that one of them—Mevrouw van Hoorn—invited her and Jeroen to dinner, and this time the murmur didn’t work; she found herself pinned down to dates, and what was more, Regina was pinned down with her.
Presently, when they had moved on, Regina muttered in her ear: ‘Just our luck—sorry about that, Constantia—Jeroen won’t be pleased.’
‘Why not? Then we won’t go,’ said Constantia at once.
Regina gave her a kindly smile. ‘Jeroen is lucky,’ she observed, and then: ‘You can’t very well get out of it; she’s known the family for years. Our mother’s friend and a very meddlesome one, too, and indiscreet.’ She sighed. ‘We’ll have to make the best of it.’ She tucked an arm into Constantia’s. ‘I like your dress—by the way, Mevrouw van Hoorn gives the kind of party where everyone is supposed to dress up—long, you know.’ She went on carelessly, ‘You have the rubies, I see.’
Constantia lifted her hand and looked at her ring. ‘Yes—it’s a beautiful ring, isn’t it? It’s the first really lovely thing I’ve ever had to wear.’
Her companion glanced at her. ‘You don’t hanker after the rest? The necklace and earrings and bracelets?’
Constantia looked at her in astonishment. ‘Heavens, no.’ She giggled. ‘And a good thing too, isn’t it, for I don’t know where Jeroen would get them from unless he robbed a bank.’ She paused. ‘And I wouldn’t let him.’
To her surprise her sister-in-law leaned over and gave her a light kiss. ‘He called you a little laughing dragon, and I must say you look fierce enough at the moment.’ She turned as Jeroen joined them. ‘Constantia is doing very well, Jeroen—we have thrown her in at the deep end, haven�
�t we?’
He caught Constantia’s hand and she felt his reassuring grip. ‘She’s been wonderful. Regina, I’m going to take her home now—it’s getting late, and it’s been a crowded evening.’
‘But I’ve loved it,’ interpolated Constantia, and smiled at them both.
Jeroen was going away the following morning—a seminar in Brussels, he had told her; he would leave early in the morning and hope to be back on the following day. She had been going to suggest that they had coffee in the kitchen again, but when they got home he wished her goodnight in the hall, saying that he had some papers to look through, and went to his study. She went to her room feeling strangely deflated.
He had gone when she got down the next morning. She looked in his study and in the little sitting room, forlornly wishing for a note, a brief message would have done, but there was nothing and she went down to the kitchen at last to drink her coffee and nibble at a piece of toast while Rietje, in basic Dutch, outlined her menus for lunch and dinner.
The day seemed long. Constantia, washing the delicate china in one of the display cabinets, thought that it would never be over, but Rietje went at last and she was alone, with the evening stretching before her. She wandered around, picking up the exquisite trifles of silver and china lying about, and studying the paintings on the walls. She should have asked Rietje to stay, she thought, and as though in answer heard the click of the kitchen door which she had shut not an hour since. It was Rietje, and Tarnus with her, and it was he who spoke: ‘The doctor asked us if we would sleep in the house, mevrouw. He didn’t like to think of you being here alone. With your permission we will use the rooms on the third floor.’
Constantia nodded, a nice little glow of pleasure spreading inside her because Jeroen had thought about her. ‘That’s very thoughtful, thank you.’
Tarnus bowed slightly. ‘I will bring you coffee, mevrouw, and within the hour Rietje will have your dinner ready.’
It was much less than the hour when Jeroen telephoned. She hadn’t expected that, and the glow warmed up nicely again. His quiet, ‘All right, my dear?’ was so clear that he could have been standing at her shoulder.
