by Betty Neels
The phone had been ringing all day, Jan informed her, and it rang again while he was telling her this. It was Rose, her pretty voice anxious.
‘Tilly? You’re all right? Sybren drove over to Leiden as soon as he heard about the bomb. He saw Rauwerd just for a moment—he was up to his eyes, of course, and so dreadfully worried about you because he’d had to leave you, but he couldn’t do anything else, could he, being in charge of the rescue team? Have you seen him since?’
‘No, I’ve been asleep. He came back to change his clothes but he didn’t wake me. He’ll be back any minute…’
‘Oh, Tilly, I’m so relieved that it wasn’t worse for you. Sybren says everyone is talking about the way you waded in and helped and gave first aid. Will you feel like having me to tea in a day or two and telling me all about it?’
‘Oh, Rose, I’d love that—what about tomorrow?’
‘Lovely. May I bring little Sybren with me?’
She put down the receiver and Jan appeared at her side. ‘May I suggest a nice glass of sherry, Mevrouw? The doctor would like you to have it.’
He handed her a glass. ‘There are flowers, also—from the director’s wife and the partners’ wives and from Professor Tacx. May I say how proud we are of you, Mevrouw?’ He beamed at her, picking his words carefully so as to get the English right.
‘Why, thank you, Jan, but there were other people helping, too, you know. And it was lovely to come home to you all here.’ She glanced at the clock. ‘I wonder when the doctor will be back.’
‘You would like me to telephone?’
‘No, I don’t think so, Jan. They must be very busy. I don’t know how many people were hurt, though I dare say quite a few were transferred to Amsterdam or den Haag. Could Bep put dinner back for half an hour?’
‘Certainly, Mevrouw.’
But the half-hour came and went and in the end she dined alone. It was almost ten o’clock when she heard his voice as he spoke to Jan in the hall and whistled to Dickens.
‘You should be in bed,’ he said from the hall, and he spoke so harshly that she felt the silly, easy tears prick her eyelids.
‘Hello, Rauwerd.’ Her voice came out expressionless. ‘I slept well all day, thank you. Would you like dinner? Bep’s got everything ready for you.’
He had come right into the room and she looked at him now. He looked tired to death; she longed to push him into his chair and throw her arms round his neck and hug him and fuss around him with a drink and his supper, while he unburdened himself of his day’s work, as any husband would.
Only he wasn’t any husband; he was Rauwerd, who had no intention of doing anything of the sort.
‘How do you feel?’ he wanted to know. ‘Is that eye painful?’ He sat down opposite her. ‘Van Kalk examined you thoroughly; you escaped lightly.’
‘Yes, didn’t I? Were the casualties high?’
He nodded. ‘We’ve transferred about half of them; there are several in intensive care, though.’
‘It was dreadful. You must be very tired. Did you tell Jan that you wanted a meal? I’ll go and see…’
‘He’s bringing me some coffee and sandwiches.’
‘I’ll get you a drink.’
‘Stay where you are, I can get it. By the way, a woman called at the hospital; she was the stallholder where you were standing. Says you were so kind and helpful when you were both knocked over. She found your handbag and returned it; it’s in the hall, rather the worse for wear, I’m afraid. You are by way of being a heroine, Tilly.’
‘That’s nonsense—I was a bit nearer the store than anyone else, that’s all.’
He said, ‘You might have been killed, or mutilated.’ His voice was harsh again. Jan came in then, which was a pity, for Matilda had hoped that he would say more.
But what was there to say? He wasn’t a man to pretend to feelings he didn’t have for her and she didn’t blame him for that. She poured his coffee and watched him eat the sandwiches, and although she longed to talk she held her tongue. She gave him a second cup of coffee and when he had drunk it he fell asleep.
He woke after half an hour. ‘My dear Tilly, I’m so sorry. You should have wakened me…’
She said in a motherly voice, ‘Why? You need a nap. I think you should go to bed at once. I suppose you have to go to the hospital in the morning?’
‘Yes.’ He was staring at her and she met his gaze with her one good eye.
‘I am proud of you, Tilly, and there has been no chance to tell you so. I was so scared and when I saw you there, quite oblivious of your danger, I said nothing. I hope you’ll forgive me for that.’
She got out of her chair. ‘Well, of course I do. There was no chance to talk, was there? And I didn’t expect you to bother with me when there were people lying around crying for help. I’m going to bed.’ She smiled at him. ‘It’s been quite a day, hasn’t it?’
He went to the door with her and opened it.
‘Oh, your father phoned this evening just to make quite sure that we were all right. I missed his first two calls but Jan coped marvellously. Goodnight, Rauwerd.’
She got up as usual in the morning to find that Rauwerd had already left for the hospital, leaving a message with Jan that he thought it unlikely that he would be home for lunch.
The morning was largely taken up with answering the telephone calls. It astonished Matilda that there were so many of them, but then, of course, Rauwerd was well known in the town. Dickens had been left at home, so she donned the eyepatch Rauwerd had left for her and took him for a brisk walk along Rapenburg and then submitted to the anxious attentions of Emma and Bep, eating the lunch they had made with such care although she wasn’t in the least hungry and then going to the sitting-room to wait for Rose.
It was quiet there and the sun shining through the window gave out a pleasant warmth. She curled up in a chair with Dickens beside her and closed her eyes. Rauwerd would be working and there would be no let up for a few days to come. Perhaps when things had got back to normal she would be able to persuade him to take a few days off. Go over to England, perhaps, and see a play, or just laze around in his London home or walk in one of the parks.
She was almost asleep when Jan came in and said apologetically, ‘Juffrouw van Wijk is here, Mevrouw, and she insists on seeing you.’
Matilda sat up straight and assumed an expression of pleased surprise. Just in time.
Nikky pushed past Jan and didn’t wait for him to close the door before she said, ‘I thought Rauwerd would be here—I came to see him, really. My God, what a fearful shock I had when I heard. He’s not hurt? I phoned the hospital but they didn’t know where he was; nor did that man of yours when I telephoned yesterday. This morning I was told that he was unable to answer the telephone—I could leave a message for him with his secretary.’ She laughed rather wildly. ‘His secretary! If he’d known it was I, he would have answered the phone.’
Matilda heard her out and then said politely, ‘Do sit down. And do tell me, why should Rauwerd have answered your telephone call? He is a doctor, and they are working almost round the clock at the hospital.’
Nikky fixed her with an angry look. ‘Oh, you don’t know what you’re talking about.’ She burst into sudden laughter. ‘Oh, poor Matilda, your eye—you do look a fright—and your hands. You look as though you’ve been scrubbing floors for years. You won’t be able to go anywhere for days. Not that it would matter; you don’t go out together, do you? I mean, the two of you for fun?’ She leaned back in her chair. ‘Rauwerd and I always had fun; he’d die of boredom if he didn’t have me to visit. Does he tell you he’s working late?’
Matilda sat like a ramrod, very pale, her eyes sparkling with rage. Any minute now she knew she would say something rash, or slap Nikky’s face. Neither of them had heard Jan answer the door and admit Rose, who was standing at the door Jan had half opened, shamelessly listening.
She flung it wide now and went in, the carrycot dangling from one hand.
‘Tilly, dear, how lovely to see you.’ She turned an enquiring face towards Nikky. ‘Oh, hello. Just going, are you? Jan’s in the hall; he’ll see you out, and don’t you dare to say another word.’
She stood back by the open door and Jan, who had heard every word, went to the front door and held it wide. Rose was small and unassuming but she had a way with her; Nikky went. Slowly, it was true, but she went.
Rose put the carrycot down on the sofa and sat down on the arm of Matilda’s chair. Matilda was paper white and tears of rage were trickling down her cheeks. Her pallor threw her black eye into violent relief and she was shaking. Presently she said, ‘Thank you, Rose. I couldn’t think of anything to say, you know. I just wanted to hit her. She said… Did you hear?’
‘Oh, yes,’ said Rose comfortably. ‘I was standing at the door, listening to every word.’
‘Rose, is it true? I mean about her and Rauwerd? Will you tell me?’
Rose said carefully, ‘She wanted him—he’s quite a catch, you know. She never loved him, only his name and his money and the prestige his work gives him—and I’m quite sure that Rauwerd never considered marrying her, didn’t even fall in love with her; he just tolerated her because he’s a kind man. No one likes her and I suppose because of that he was her friend. Ask him, Tilly. He’ll tell you that Nikky isn’t of any importance to him.’
Matilda sniffed, blew her nose and mopped her face. ‘Heavens, you must think I’m a silly fool to take any notice of the woman. I’ll—I’ll have a talk with Rauwerd.’
‘You do that. You see, everything will be all right. That’s a really lovely eye. Were you terrified?’
‘Petrified. It’s like being turned to stone for a few moments; you can’t move or speak. I ruined a new suit, too.’
‘Plenty more where that came from,’ said Rose cheerfully. ‘I say, I’m sorry I was so high-handed just now, ordering Nikky out of your house, only you looked as though you were going to thump her.’
‘I was. I wish I had, too.’ They giggled together. ‘Oh, good, here’s Jan with our tea. Is the baby all right there? He’s very quiet…’
‘Asleep,’ said his proud mother. ‘He’s so placid, bless him. When’s the next Dutch lesson? Isn’t Professor Tacx a nice old man?’
Emma and Bep had provided a lovely tea: tiny sandwiches, scones, toasted and buttered, rich chocolate cake and wafer-thin bread and butter. They took their time over it and hadn’t finished when Rauwerd came in.
He kissed them both, studied his small godson and sat down by the fire. When Jan came in with fresh tea Matilda gave him a cup and asked. ‘Is it still very busy on the ward? Are the patients recovering?’
He studied her face; tears and rage had taken their toll but her voice was quietly enquiring. ‘Ordered chaos is the term; we’ve borrowed nurses from here and there and, of course, it took them a little time to find their way around. But the patients are coming along nicely. Some nasty injuries and still three in intensive care.’ He had demolished the rest of the bread and butter and was starting on the cake. Matilda wondered if had had lunch, and put the plate of scones within his reach. He ate those, too, while he carried on desultory conversation until Rose got up to go.
‘And may I just ring Sybren,’ she asked, ‘to let him know that I’m on my way?’ When she had done that and kissed Matilda she asked Rauwerd, ‘Will you carry the baby down to the car for me?’
With the infant safely stowed in the back of the car she paused as he opened the car door for her. ‘Look, this isn’t my business and probably you’ll never speak to me again, but there is something I must say…’
‘About Tilly?’ His voice was very quiet.
She nodded. ‘Nikky van Wijk was here when I arrived. She just walked in—she wasn’t asked. I don’t know what she said before I arrived but she was saying a whole lot—I stood at the door and listened—lies about you and her. But there were little bits of truth mixed in and it all sounded plausible.’ She looked rather anxiously at his face; he was angry but there was something besides anger in his tired face.
‘You’re furious. I’m sorry if you don’t want to be friends any more.’
He smiled faintly. ‘Yes, I’m furious, but not with you, Rose, or with Tilly. I promise you I will do something to put matters right.’ He bent and kissed her again. ‘Sybren’s a lucky fellow.’
She beamed at him. ‘Yes, isn’t he? I shall tell him all this. Will you mind?’
‘I should find it extraordinary if you didn’t—you’re too close for secrets, aren’t you?’ He shut the door on her. ‘Drive carefully.’
Rauwerd didn’t sit down when he went back into the sitting-room; he went to stand at the window, looking out into the garden, but he turned around when Matilda spoke. She had had time to think what she was going to say and to school her voice to matter-of-factness.
‘Nikky called this afternoon. She was worried about you. She phoned yesterday but Jan didn’t know where you were and I was asleep. She tried the hospital, too, and again today; they told her that you were unable to take calls but she didn’t believe them so she came here.’
‘And what did she have to say?’ His look was so intent that she glanced away.
‘Well, she was upset, naturally…’
He sauntered towards her. ‘Why naturally, Tilly?’
She hesitated. ‘You’re old friends—She—she has a great regard for you.’
‘What a nice way of putting it. And do you believe that?’
Matilda met his gaze squarely. ‘No, but I don’t think it matters what I think. Rose came just before Nikky left; she told me to ask you… But I don’t think I want to know. I’d like to forget it; it isn’t as though…’ She paused. ‘I expect you would like to go and see Nikky; she was very upset.’
He lounged against a chair but now he straightened up. ‘Why, I do believe I’ll do just that, Matilda.’ He had come to stand in front of her, hands in his pockets. ‘You are almost too good to be true, you know, although, of course that should be easy since your own feelings aren’t involved. You are also as blind as a bat.’ He went briskly to the door. ‘Don’t wait dinner for me,’ he said cheerfully as he went out.
She went to bed shortly after dinner with the excuse that she had a headache, and certainly her eye bore out evidence of the statement. She was sitting up in bed knitting with a kind of concentrated fury when there was a tap on her door and Rauwerd came in.
‘Emma says you have a headache.’ He took her wrist in his hand. ‘Your pulse is fast; do you not feel well, Matilda? You have had a bad time, you know.’ He looked at her with narrowed eyes. ‘Or have you a headache?’
‘No, I haven’t. I said I had otherwise Emma and Bep would have wondered why I came to bed so early.’
‘And why did you?’ He sat down on the side of the bed and took the knitting out of her hands.
She shook her head. ‘I thought I felt tired, but once I was in bed I wasn’t.’ She smiled at him with determined brightness, suddenly certain that he had something to tell her. He had been to see Nikky and they would have talked, about her probably.
‘I’m going over to London on Sunday to give details of the bombing to a committee of hospital authorities and discuss the nature of the injuries. I have two consultations as well. I shall be there for three days, and I’d like you to come with me, Tilly. We will go to the house in Tilden Street, of course. You could shop if you wish and we might go to a show.’
She studied his face; it gave nothing away. She asked slowly, ‘Does Nikky know?’
She wished she knew what he was thinking; his face was so still and his eyes half closed.
‘Yes.’
She said wearily. ‘And I suppose, when we’re there, I stay and you come back here—there are all sorts of excuses you could make.’
His voice was so cold that she actually shivered at the sound of it. ‘You think that? You must be out of your mind, Matilda.’ He got up from the bed and stood towering over her.
�
��Well, I’m not,’ said Matilda, ‘not any more. And I won’t go with you.’ She pulled the bedclothes over her ears. ‘Take Nikky,’ she added into the pillows. But he hadn’t heard that. He was already out of the room, closing the door with a deliberate quietness which was much worse than a resounding slam.
Because she lay awake until the small hours, she overslept. Rauwerd had already gone to the hospital by the time she got down and Jan told her, with a shake of his head, that he wouldn’t be back until the early evening.
‘The doctor is working too hard,’ he told her, ‘and now he goes to London.’
He cast a quick glance at Matilda’s face. ‘You will be staying here, Mevrouw? The doctor says that you are still not quite well.’ He gave her a fatherly smile. ‘We must all take care of you.’
She murmured suitably, feeling guilty, nibbled at her breakfast and had a long conversation on the phone with her mother-in-law.
‘Rauwerd phoned this morning, my dear; such a pity you aren’t well enough to go to London with him, it would have made a pleasant little break for you both, but you are wise to stay at home after such an ordeal.’
Matilda, feeling guiltier than ever, invited her in-laws to lunch the Sunday after Rauwerd got back, and hung up, to plunge into a variety of small chores to keep her busy. She was dreading Rauwerd’s return; indeed, she felt sick whenever she thought about it. Unnecessarily so, as it turned out, for he was his usual coolly pleasant self and no mention was made of their conversation on the previous evening, nor of his trip to London.
The five days till Sunday dragged by. A number of people called to see how she was. Rose telephoned and wisely said nothing at all about Rauwerd, only made a date for the following week and Matilda went to two meetings of charities she had been asked to patronise, the black patch covering her eye which was now yellow and green as well as purple. On Sunday, early, Rauwerd left for London.
CHAPTER NINE
