by Neels, Betty
He wasn’t at breakfast; he’d been called out during the night and hadn’t returned home yet, but halfway through the meal he phoned. He sounded tired. Til be home in about an hour—could you get Sitska to have some breakfast ready for me? I’ll shower and shave first. See to the letters, will you? Tell Sibella to be a good girl.’
Prudence went to see Sitska in the kitchen, took Sibella to school and hurried home There had been no time to look at the post and there were several letters. She had got through them all and arranged them on his desk by the time he got home, and she went into the hall to meet him as he came in.
He was in a sweater and slacks, unshaven and weary, but his ‘good morning’ was uttered in his usual placid tones.
‘Shower first or a cup of tea?’ asked Prudence. ‘And will fifteen minutes’ time do for breakfast?’
‘Perfect, and I’ll have that tea now.’ He took his bag into the study and went across the hall to the sitting room. ‘Have one with me?’
‘I’ll fetch it,’ said Prudence and sped away.
‘What was it?’ she asked when he’d drunk half of his tea. ‘Or don’t you want to talk about it?’
‘Cardiac arrest—that was just after midnight. I was just leaving the hospital when there was a second one on the operating table. It’s taken us all this time...’
‘The patients will be all right?’
‘I believe so; it’s early days yet, but at least they’ve got a chance.’
She poured him a second cup. ‘Do you have to go back at once? Could you have a quick nap?’
He shook his head. ‘Ten minutes at the most. I’ve a busy morning and I’m running late already.’ He smiled, a faint, tired smile that wrenched at her heart. ‘I shan’t be home to lunch—I shan’t be going out either.’
Prudence blushed. ‘I’m sorry—I was hateful, wasn’t I? I won’t do it again. It’s none of my business anyway.’ He lifted an eyebrow and gave her a questioning look, but she judged that this was no time to argue. She picked up the tray. ‘Ten minutes and Sitska will bring in your breakfast.’
Benedict got up, laughing a little. I’ve been unused to being ordered about like this for years—I rather like it!’
He was back with a minute to spare, shaved and dressed with his usual elegance, only his face was lined and pale. ‘When do you have to go again?’ asked Prudence, pouring his coffee.
He glanced at the bracket clock on the wall behind her. ‘My first appointment is at ten o’clock—at my rooms. I’ll have to leave here five minutes before that.’
She nodded and didn’t speak while he devoured toast and cheese and cold ham. When he had drunk his final cup of coffee, she said quietly: ‘You’ve got just over ten minutes. If you lie down, I’ll wake you. I told Ork not to come in until I rang, so you won’t be disturbed.’
He was asleep at once, stretched out on the wide high-backed sofa along one wall. She sat and looked at him, longing to touch him, not moving until it was time to wake him.
He was alert at once. ‘Tea round the playroom fire?’ he asked. He didn’t wait for an answer, but dropped a kiss on her cheek and went past her into the hall where Ork was waiting. He said something to the old man as he opened the door and Ork smiled widely, then they both turned to look at her before the door was shut and Benedict had gone.
Prudence did the letters then, rearranged the flowers and went along to consult with Sitska about food for the party. They got on rather well by now, and Ork was always at hand to translate. They settled on celery sticks with cream cheese, tiny savoury puffs, vol-au-vents, bitter balls, lobster patties and cheese straws. There would be ices and little trifles and gateaux for the sweet-toothed and bowls of hot chestnuts for those who wanted something a bit different. Prudence left the kitchens and went back to the sitting room. She would have her coffee and afterwards deal with the letters. Benedict had left a list of friends to be invited and she had offered to look them up in the phone book and write the numbers beside the names so that they could phone everyone that evening.
She went and got the list now and fetched the phone book, then sat down at the small desk under the window. There were a lot of names, it would take longer than she had thought.
She was halfway through when she heard the clang of the front door bell and,Ork’s voice in the hall. He appeared a few moments later at the door.
‘Professor Herrisma has called, Mevrouw.
Prudence flung down her list and jumped to her feet. ‘Oh, how nice—ask him to come in, please, Ork. Everard, what a lovely surprise! I was just going to have coffee, do say you’ll have it with me. Did you want to see Benedict? He’s at the hospital—he was there most of the night too.’
Everard shook the hand she held out and smiled at her, a questioning look in his eyes. ‘I didn’t expect to see him, but I was passing and I called to see if you would both have dinner with me one evening.’
Prudence sat down and nodded to the other end of the sofa. ‘We’d love to,’ and she beamed even more widely at him as he sat down beside her. ‘We’re planning a party quite soon and I don’t know when Benedict’s free...’
‘How about Sunday evening, then? I’ll ask Mevrouw van der Gulp along too.’ He fell silent while Ork put the coffee tray on a small table close to Prudence, but when he’d gone again he went on: ‘I don’t suppose you’ve got out much since you got back?’
‘Hardly at all,’ said Prudence cheerfully, ‘but we are going to Arnhem on Saturday.’ She almost told him about the trip to England, but she wasn’t sure if Benedict would like that even though he and Everard were such old friends.
She gave Everard his coffee, happy to have him there because he was Benedict’s friend, and perhaps because of that she found herself talking to him as though she had known him all her life; she told him about her home and the difficulties she was having with his language and how Sibella was doing at school, and because Benedict was uppermost in her mind she talked a great deal about him too. And Everard listened stolidly, not saying much, sitting sideways so that he could watch her. They were discussing dogs and Henry in particular when the door opened and Benedict came in. Prudence stopped in mid-sentence and got to her feet.
‘Benedict—heavens, is it so late? I must fetch Sibella...’
He was at his most placid. ‘Hullo, my dear. Everard, how nice to see you. And it’s not late, Prudence—there’s still all of half an hour before Sibella needs to be fetched. I found that I could get away after all.’
He crossed the room and sat down in his big chair. ‘Have I interrupted some interesting discussion?’ He looked at Prudence, smiling faintly, and she frowned a little. He looked as placid as usual, his voice was just as slow and quiet, but all the same she had the nasty feeling that he was angry.
‘Dogs,’ she explained. ‘We were talking about Henry and Podge. Benedict, you’d like coffee, wouldn’t you? Are you very tired?’
‘Ork is bringing me some coffee, and if you mean by tired that I might wish to have a sleep before lunch, I don’t, thank you.’
The smile he gave her, she decided, wasn’t a very nice one. ‘Everard called to, see if we’d have dinner with him.’
‘I don’t know if you’re committed to anything, Benedict—if you’re not how about Sunday evening?’
Benedict watched Prudence pour his coffee. ‘That will be delightful. Anyone else going to be there?’
‘Mevrouw van der Gulp. Prudence tells me that you were at the hospital last night. Anything interesting?’
‘A cardiac arrest; I think we’ve pulled him through—and then a second one in theatre. Dulmin was operating. I thought we’d got him too, but he hasn’t made it. That’s why I’m home early.’
Everard stood up. ‘Well, I’d better be on my way— I’ve got a list this afternoon...’
‘Why not stay to lunch?’ said Prudence, and wished that she hadn’t as she glanced at Benedict’s face.
‘Yes, why not?’ he echoed, But Everard refused in his grave
way, shook hands and left the room with Benedict.
It was almost time to fetch Sibella. Prudence picked up the tray and carried it out to the kitchen, to be reprimanded by Ork for doing so, and went back to the sitting room. Benedict was at the desk, looking at the list of guests for their party, and she said guiltily: ‘I haven’t finished it, but I’ll have it ready by teatime.’ She added: ‘I’m sorry.’
Benedict turned away from the window where he had been staring out at the garden. ‘Am I such a hard taskmaster?’ he asked mildly.
‘Heavens, no, but I said I’d have it ready for you, and it’s not.’ She added shyly: ‘It’s nice that you’re home early.’ She went pink as she said it because she had spoken her thought out loud, something she would have to learn not to do. ‘I’ll fetch Sibella.’
‘And I will go with you.’
She fetched her coat and a scarf for her hair and found him waiting for her. They walked quickly, his arm tucked into hers. She hoped that he couldn’t feel her trembling at his touch and because she felt shy and awkward with him, she talked non-stop, mostly about Everard’s visit and what they had talked about. And Benedict listened gravely, saying very little, his eyes thoughtful.
Going back home, of course, it was Sibella, dancing along between them, who did all the talking. There was to be a school play at the end of term and she had been chosen to be a fairy. ‘You will sew a dress, Mama?’ she begged excitedly. ‘Juffrouw Smid says it may be any colour...’ She lapsed into her own tongue, and Benedict obligingly translated and then suggested that Prudence should go along and see Juffrouw Smid and get the details right.
‘Yes, I will,’ said Prudence, ‘although I’m scared stiff of her. She’s very large, you know.’
Benedict laughed. ‘Well, don’t expect me to go with you. Her English is excellent.’
‘I know, better than mine. I must take Dutch lessons, mustn’t I?’
‘Why, yes. Why not ask Juffrouw Smid to teach you? She could come for an hour or so in the evenings.’ Prudence agreed rather forlornly. That would mean that she wouldn’t see so much of him; on the other hand, the sooner she learned to speak his language the more chance she had of making a success of her marriage.
As he opened the door and stood aside to let them pass, she said: ‘All right, I will. Will it take long? I mean, to learn Dutch?’
‘It’s a very difficult language,’ he told her as he crossed the hall to his study. Til see you at lunch.’
The conversation was almost entirely in the hands of Sibella during their meal, which was a good thing, for Prudence was discovering that it was difficult to maintain her normal manner with Benedict; of course she would get used to the situation in time, and the quicker the better, and he, who usually carried on an easy flow of general topics, was strangely silent too. Prudence was conscious of relief when he glanced at his watch and declared that he would have to go. ‘The clinic,’ he explained, ‘but I’ll be back in time for tea.’ He ruffled Sibella’s hair, touched Prudence’s shoulder lightly as he passed her chair, and a moment later she heard the car leaving. In three hours’ time he would be back again, she thought, and smiled to herself so that Sibella wanted to know if she was happy.
‘Yes, darling,’ said Prudence, ‘and again no.’
‘I don’t understand, Mama.’
‘Nor do I, lieffe:
By the time Saturday came she was no nearer getting her thoughts sorted out. She reached the sensible conclusion not to spoil the day by filling her head with foolish longings but to accept what it had to offer and be happy about it. And it was a good day. They drove to Arnhem through the Veluwe, the wooded country on either side of the road all around them, and since it was still fairly early, not much traffic, to spoil the illusion that they were miles away from anywhere. Arnhem, when they reached it, was already busy, though. Benedict parked the car and took them at once to have coffee before escorting them patiently from one shop to the next. There were a number of chic boutiques, and presently he observed mildly: ‘Do you know what you’re going to buy? There are one or two department stores, but I daresay you prefer to get something in one of these smaller shops.’
‘Well—yes.’ Prudence was examining a colourful knitted outfit, flung carelessly over a stool in a tiny window. ‘I like that...’
He said instantly: ‘So do I—let’s get it.’ It happened to fit her, and although the price was shocking, since Benedict insisted on paying for it—a birthday present, he said vaguely—she felt no guilt squandering so much money. They went back into the street again and this time found a dress and coat for Sibella. ‘And shoes,’ said Prudence urgently. ‘You simply must have another pair for school.’
They found shoes and while they were there, Benedict added a pair of little bronze slippers Sibella had been admiring, and by then it was after noon, and as he pointed out, if they intended to go on shopping after lunch then they might as well go back to the car, get rid of the parcels and go to the hotel.
They lunched at the Savoy, overlooking the river and, from a quick glance at the menu, wildly expensive, thought Prudence. She really would have to get used to having lots of money. Her own family weren’t poor by any means, but living on Benedict’s scale was rather breathtaking. She did in fact lose her breath entirely when he walked them into a small shop with nothing but a mink hat and a chinchilla stole in its window, and asked to see fur coats. Ranch mink, he told the saleslady firmly, and added to Prudence: ‘I don’t care for animals being trapped, do you?’
He didn’t wait for her to say yes but turned to look at the armful of coats being offered. ‘Whichever you like, my dear,’ he told her, and Prudence meekly tried them all on, while Sibella danced around begging her to have them all. ‘They’re pretty, and you are pretty too, Mama,’ she declared, and Prudence went a charming pink when her father agreed.
She chose a dark fur finally; it made her hair glow and did wonders for her creamy skin, and when a matching hat was suggested she tried that on too, a small round affair which perched most attractively on top of her head.
Outside on the pavement again, she tried to thank Benedict, but he brushed her thanks aside very gently. ‘Delighted to give you a belated wedding present, Prudence,’ he told her placidly. ‘Let’s go and look at books.’
Holland, Prudence had discovered from her limited experience, had some splendid bookshops. The three of them spent half an hour and came out loaded.
‘It’s too late for the open air museum today,’ said Benedict, ‘but we’ll go next time we come this way. Let’s have tea now.’
A lovely day, thought Prudence drowsily as she lay half asleep that night. Benedict had been such fun, the kind of companion one so often dreamed of and never found. She had felt smug in his company, seeing the glances other women gave him. He wasn’t just a handsome man, he was elegant too, and self-assured, the kind of man one could leave to see to everything. She closed her eyes and dreamed of him; not quite satisfactorily, for she awoke before the end and was left with a vague elusive feeling. Dreams never turned out as you wanted them to.
But they didn’t matter once she was up and breakfasting, with Sibella chattering non-stop and Benedict rumbling goodnatured answers from time to time. They went to church later and after lunch took Henry for a walk. Prudence’s day was perfect. She would have preferred to have spent the evening at home with Benedict, but after all, Everard was a close friend and she liked Mevrouw van der Gulp.
She put Sibella to bed, made sure that her own hair and face were at their best, then went downstairs to where Benedict was waiting. The drive was a short one, and she regretted that, for there was no time to do more than pass a few desultory remarks before they drew up before Everard’s house. It was not to be compared with Benedict’s home—red brick and far too many fussy bits of plaster work above the windows. The front door was painted dark green, and they went up steps to reach it before Benedict tugged at an old-fashioned bell pull beside it. The elderly woman who answered the d
oor suited the house very well. She had a severe no-nonsense face, and iron-grey hair rigidly waved, moreover she was severely dressed in black. But her face melted into a broad smile when she saw Benedict and she said something delightedly which made him laugh. ‘Prudence, this is Nessie, Everard’s housekeeper. We’re very old friends.’
Prudence shook hands and murmured, ‘Aangenaam’, and Nessie broke into further speech which he patiently translated. ‘She’s congratulating us on our marriage and wishing us all the best.’
Prudence smiled at them both and then turned, her smile widening, as Everard came into the hall. ‘Everard—hullo,’ she glanced round her at the rather overpowering size of the square hall. ‘What an enormous house you’ve got!’
Too big for an old bachelor like myself.’ He took her hand and smiled, then turned to Benedict. ‘Glad you could come—you’re not on call?’
Benedict shook his head. ‘After midnight. Is Godmother here?’
‘In the drawing-room.’ He waited while Nessie took Prudence’s coat, then led the way to a half open door and ushered them inside.
The room was vast, high-ceilinged and furnished with old-fashioned heavily upholstered chairs and a number of awkward little tables—the kind of room a bachelor could live in for years and not notice just how awful it was. Everard needed a wife. Prudence crossed the room with her host and greeted Mevrouw van der Gulp, who gave her a cheek to kiss, asked how she was, then turned to kiss Benedict. When they were all sitting sipping pre-prandial drinks, the old lady asked: ‘And when is the party to be? I look forward to it.’
‘We’ve just finished making out a list of guests, but since you’re both here and such old friends, it’s on Tuesday week. There’ll be about thirty, I should think...’
‘Quite time too,’ observed Mevrouw van der Gulp. ‘It’s high time you entertained again, Benedict.’ She added: ‘Of course, you were younger then.’
He didn’t reply, and Prudence was aware that he was for once at a loss for an answer. Perhaps when he had been married before, he and his first wife had led a social life; she felt .a sharp stab of jealousy at the thought.
