by Betty Neels
Tabitha felt sick. She said carefully: ‘Lilith’s lucky to have found someone to love so early in her life.’
Mrs Crawley laughed shortly. ‘Love—who said anything about love?’ she wanted to know. ‘Lilith has the good sense to want a rich easy-going husband. Only a fool like you would start drooling about love.’ She frowned. ‘I can’t say I’m delighted at your news—why should I be? On the other hand, perhaps it’s a good thing. Some other girl might have gone, but you’re just a nurse who works for him and I suppose you’ll be employed as a sort of mother’s help. He sees you every day, so you’re quite commonplace to him, and anyway, you aren’t exactly exciting, are you, Tabby? I should hardly call you a threat to Lilith’s future.’
She smiled—the smile Tabitha couldn’t bear—so she got up so as not to see it and said: ‘Here they come—shall I go and tell Cook she can serve lunch?’
Lunch went very well, though it seemed to Tabitha that everything was a little unreal, for she and Lilith and her stepmother were all playing parts while Marius, entertaining them with casual charm, appeared not to notice their stilted politeness to each other. All the same it was a relief when after the meal her stepmother suggested that she might like to go upstairs and pack any clothes she might need for her holiday. Tabitha, who had no clothes upstairs, nevertheless agreed because she could see that it was a ruse to get her out of the way; she was even more sure of this when Mrs Crawley announced that she would rest for an hour or so. They went upstairs together, and presently Tabitha, standing in her little room by the window, heard the purr of the Bentley’s engine, and by craning her neck was able to watch Marius, with Lilith beside him, drive away.
She sat on her bed for quite half an hour, wondering if she should back out of the trip to Veere, but in the end she decided against the idea. It seemed certain that Lilith was going to get Marius, and as he didn’t appear to mind being caught, there was nothing to do about that. But there was no reason why she shouldn’t have a holiday. She would be able to see Marius every day and whatever happened afterwards, she would have that to remember. She went downstairs and out into the garden and started to weed one of the borders.
They left soon after tea, although she had half expected that Marius would want to stay later, despite his promise. He and Lilith had come back at the end of the afternoon, laughing and talking in the most friendly way, but Tabitha detected a faint uneasiness in Lilith’s manner as well as an expression of bewilderment on her face, and her heart leapt with foolish delight because that must mean that Marius hadn’t asked her to marry him.
They didn’t talk much on the way back; it was only as they were approaching Ottery that Marius said: ‘Well, it wasn’t so bad, was it? You would have had to have told them sooner or later, you know—they would have got to hear about it somehow or other, these things get around. It will be easier for you next time you see them….’
Tabitha interrupted him: ‘Is that why you went to all that trouble—making it easy for me?’
‘No trouble, dear girl,’ he gave her a sidelong glance. ‘I intended you to tell them yourself, but you looked’—he paused—‘anyway, since I asked you to come in the first place, it seemed hardly fair.’
He stopped the car outside the cottage in Ottery. ‘By the way, I thought you had some clothes to bring back?’
Tabitha blushed. ‘Well—no, I haven’t anything at Chidlake. It was just so that you and Lilith…’ She was interrupted by his laugh, which was one of genuine amusement.
When they got back to the flat he got out of the car to help Meg and then opened the door for them and Tabitha said uncertainly: ‘Well, do come in if you’d like to,’ and led the way to the kitchen where Podger was waiting for them. Tabitha picked him up and Meg, after a glance at her, said comfortably: ‘I’ve a dozen of the freshest eggs in my bag. How about scrambling some of them for supper?’
‘If that’s an invitation, I accept,’ said Marius. ‘If someone will show me where everything is, I’ll lay the table.’ Which he did while Tabitha fed the cat and made the coffee and Meg set to work with the eggs. They sat down presently and ate their simple meal, and when Meg produced a large jam sponge, as light as a feather, and a bowl of cream they ate that too. The talk was of everyday things, and Meg, who could be discreet, asked no questions about Chidlake or its occupants, but wanted to know about their holiday instead. They all washed up afterwards and when Tabitha went to the door with Marius, he said: ‘That was the best meal I’ve had for a long time,’ and then, ‘A very nice ending to the day, Tabby, though I can see that I must have patience for a little longer.’
She thought he was talking about Lilith—who surely hadn’t refused him? She said kindly: ‘Don’t worry, I’m sure you won’t have to wait.’
He kissed her on the mouth and she guessed that he hadn’t meant to do so. ‘I’ll remind you of that one day,’ he said, and got into the car.
Tabitha went back to the kitchen and helped Meg get ready for the morning. She told her a little of her day at Chidlake, and Meg heard her out with patience and then said: ‘There’s many a slip, Miss Tabby dear, and don’t you worry your head over the things your stepmother says. Hard words break no bones,’ she added comfortingly.
Who cares about bones, thought Tabitha, going to her bed, it’s my heart that’s been broken. She undressed quickly and got into bed, where she lay awake for a very long time wondering why Marius hadn’t proposed to Lilith, and alternatively, why Lilith, who had seemed so keen to marry him, hadn’t accepted him if he had proposed. It was a question she would dearly have loved to have answered. Unfortunately there was no one to do so. She would have to go on guessing.
CHAPTER FIVE
DURING the next few days Tabitha saw very little of Marius. Of course there were the rounds and the brief businesslike discussions about the patients’ treatments, but that was all. It wasn’t until the end of the week that he paused on his way out of the ward after a morning round to tell her that he was going to Chidlake that afternoon and had she any messages. She had said no without any hesitation, and then sought for a few suitable words to soften the baldness of her answer, but he was already on his way down the corridor. He came back that evening, just before she was due to go off duty, and feeling that she should make amends for her abruptness of the morning, she had asked:
‘Did you have a pleasant time at Chidlake?’
He had cast down the chart he was reading and given her a thoughtful stare, then said to mystify her: ‘I hope so. I shan’t know for several weeks.’
Tabitha stared back, trying to make sense of what he had said; it wasn’t until later that she was forced to the conclusion that he had gone for the express purpose of asking Lilith to marry him, and for some reason of her own, Lilith had chosen to keep him waiting for the answer. She voiced this opinion out loud to Podger, who had made a sympathetic noise in the back of his throat, blinked at her several times and then curled himself into a tight ball and gone to sleep.
‘Oh, well,’ said Tabitha, ‘I suppose I may as well do the same,’ and turned out the light to lie wide awake, and because she didn’t want to think about Marius any more that night, she turned her thoughts to the ward. Matron had paid her promised visit and left various samples of material for ward curtains. Tabitha, by concentrating fiercely upon them, and still concentrating, went at last to sleep.
It wasn’t until Friday evening while she was speeding round getting things shipshape before her day off that Marius had anything of a private nature to say to her, and that so unexpected that she stopped counting sheets to listen to him and then said:
‘There, now I’ve forgotten where I was—I’ll have to start again.’ But before she did so, she said politely: ‘Thank you very much, but I planned to drive myself over and I shall take Meg—she dearly loves a wedding, and she can go to the local inn and have lunch while I’m at the reception.’
She started on the sheets once more, counting under her breath. She had got to twelve when
Marius took her hand off the pile and said firmly:
‘Leave those. If you’re offended because I didn’t ask you sooner, I’m sorry. I’m afraid I took it for granted that we would be going together. Come off your perch, Tabby, and tell me what time I should pick you and Meg up.’
He sounded very persuasive; Tabitha came off her perch, although she was still a little reluctant. ‘The wedding’s at half past twelve.’ She sounded offhand because she was not sure if he was just being polite or really wanted to take them, and as though he had read her thoughts he said bracingly: ‘You really should cultivate a good opinion of yourself, Tabitha. I should like you to come with me.’
She gave him a quick look and saw that he was wearing his kind face and smiling too and her own mouth curved. She said cheerfully:
‘It’s only about twelve miles to Bradninch—we ought to get there by a quarter past twelve. I’d planned to leave at about a quarter to because I’m not sure about parking the car.’
‘We’ll use mine, I get claustrophobia in anything smaller. I’ll pick you up.’
Tabitha smoothed the top sheet with extreme care and said without looking at him: ‘If you like to come a few minutes earlier and have coffee before we go…’
‘Half past eleven,’ he answered promptly. ‘I was hoping you would ask me—one can never be sure of wedding feasts and I might get peckish. What will you wear?’
She gave him a surprised look. ‘A—a dress,’ and then because he smiled, ‘It’s a sort of clotted cream colour—silk. I’ve bought a new hat—a pink one with a big wavy brim.’
‘Oh, lord,’ said Marius, ‘that means every time I want to say something to you I shall have to bend double and peer underneath.’
‘Yes.’ It wasn’t the word but the way she had said it which made him say blandly: ‘So that’s it—hiding your light under a bushel again, Tabby. You’ll oblige me by wearing it well back—I like to see your face.’
Tabitha was so astonished that she dropped some of the sheets. She picked them up, red in the face, and Marius, handing her his own quota of fallen linen, gave her a thoughtful look, although all he said was: ‘Well, I must be off. I’ll see you in the morning. Good night.’
Tabitha answered a little breathlessly and fell to counting sheets once more, with so little success that she was doing it when the night nurse came to look for her.
There was a fruit cake to go with the coffee. Marius, elegant in a grey suit of impeccable cut, sat on the kitchen table munching a large slice while Tabitha went upstairs to put on her hat, but when she came down he balanced the cake on his saucer and stood up the better to inspect her. She stood self-consciously in front of him, hoping that the hat would meet with his approval, for she had spent a long time trying it on at different angles, and then, mindful of what he had said, perched it well back, defiantly framing the face she had intended to shade.
He nodded approval. ‘Very nice—pink suits you, Tabby, and that’s a very pretty dress too. You look elegant—does she not, Meg?’ he appealed to the older woman, who said vigorously: ‘Miss Tabby always looks smart,’ and even though Tabitha wasn’t sure if what they said was true at least she felt warmed by their praise.
They arrived in good time at the church, which was a good thing, for most of the village seemed bent on being at the wedding. Fortunately for them an earnest young man in the porch, struggling to sort the guests into His and Hers, recognized them. He had been a frequent visitor to the ward when Jimmy had been a patient there, and although he blinked a little at the unexpected sight of Tabitha without her cap and strings and apron, he ushered them into a seat in the body of the church where they had an excellent view of the bridegroom, very neat in his navy blue suit with its trouser leg cut neatly up its seam to accommodate his leg plaster. He turned round and saw them and waved discreetly and made the thumbs up sign which Tabitha privately thought rather unsuitable to the occasion. She was sitting between Meg and Marius and as the bride came down the aisle she was forced to peer round him in order to see her. It was like looking round a tree trunk.
The reception was in the Town Hall at the top of the hill, and when they had escorted Meg to the hotel and dealt with the question of her lunch, they parked the Bentley amongst the crowd of cars already there and went upstairs to the big room on the first floor where they greeted the happy couple and then passed on to be immediately engulfed in hospitality. Sandwiches, sausages on sticks, little rolls dangerously oozing mustard and cress and large ones filled even more dangerously with chopped egg were offered them from all sides; they found themselves, with their filled plates in one hand and glasses of sweet Spanish wine in the other, in a group of Jimmy’s friends, all of whom had been to the hospital to visit him at one time or another. Then they had been a little overawed by their surroundings, but now the boot was on the other foot—they set themselves to entertain their guests, and naturally being friends of Jimmy’s they were also Rugger enthusiasts; Tabitha found herself taking part in an animated talk concerning something she knew very little about and it was small comfort to observe that Marius was enjoying himself enormously. But with the advent of the bride and groom and two of the bridesmaids who came to join the group she was able to escape to a corner with Jimmy’s new wife and spend a short but pleasant period discussing the wedding gown, the bridesmaids’ dresses and the trousseau before the bride was whisked away to change.
‘How nice a wedding is,’ observed Tabitha as they drove away an hour or more later. ‘I mean a wedding where everyone really likes the bride and groom and not the kind where the women go just to be spiteful about each other’s hats.’
Meg and Marius agreed and then lapsed into silence while Tabitha, for Meg’s benefit, described exactly what the bride wore—she went on to detail the bridesmaids’ dresses too as well as the bride’s mother’s and several more of the most striking outfits there, pausing in midsentence to point out to Marius that he had taken the wrong fork at Silverton, where they joined the main road, but Marius said with calm: ‘The wrong fork for home, you mean? There’s a nice tea place along here somewhere—the Fisherman’s Cot—I thought we might sit a while. I still have to hear what the bridegroom’s mother wore.’
Tabitha went a bright pink. ‘Oh—have I been boring you?’ She looked contrite. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘Don’t be. I’m vastly entertained, though how you contrive to remember who was wearing what is beyond me.’
He turned the car off the road as he spoke and parked by a picturesque thatched house with a small river running through its pretty garden. They had tea sitting at one of the open windows with the scent of the flowers vying with the delicious aroma of fresh baked scones.
‘I’m hungry,’ said Tabitha simply, eyeing the big dishes of jam and cream which accompanied the scones, and Meg who was pouring the tea, said:
‘Probably you are, Miss Tabby. However good the food is at a wedding reception you can never get enough of it. I,’ she added, ‘had an excellent lunch.’ She beamed at them both and asked Marius: ‘Well, Mr van Beek, what do you think of our nice country village weddings?’
He split a scone with masterly precision. ‘Delightful, Meg—I intend to have a village wedding myself.’
There was silence, broken by Meg who asked hastily: ‘Are they the same in Holland?’
Tabitha didn’t give him the chance to answer; she felt numb with shock, but she had to speak. ‘She might not like it,’ she managed.
Marius eyed her across the table; he looked as though he was enjoying a private joke although he wasn’t even smiling. He said silkily:
‘I am aware that it is usual for the bride to choose; it just so happens that I already know her inclination.’ He turned away from her and addressed Meg, just as though Tabitha had never interrupted him. He described a Dutch wedding with a wealth of detail and a good deal of humour and presently, without her realizing it, drew Tabitha back into the conversation.
It was well after six when they arrived back at
the flat and as Marius opened the door and handed her back the key, Tabitha asked a little uncertainly: ‘Would you like to come in? I daresay we shall be making some coffee…’
He cut her short in the nicest possible way. ‘That would have been delightful, but I’ve an engagement in an hour.’
Tabitha longed to ask where and with whom; instead she said: ‘Then we must thank you now for taking us—we enjoyed it, didn’t we, Meg?’
‘That I did, Mr van Beek, and thank you. Now I’ll go and see to Podger.’
Meg shut the door behind her leaving Tabitha, feeling awkward, outside on the step. She put out a hand and said: ‘Well, goodbye and thank you again, Marius.’
He took the hand and didn’t let it go. She could feel its cool firmness engulfing her own, sending a tingling shock up her arm. He said slowly: ‘You never ask questions, Tabby. Perhaps you are afraid of the answers.’
She gave him a steady look. ‘Yes, I daresay—anyway it’s not my business, is it—what you do, I mean.’
His hand tightened a little. ‘I’m not secretive, Tabby, though I believe you think I am. When I marry I shall share every moment of my life with my wife, whether we’re together or not.’
Tabitha looked at him thoughtfully, wondering what Lilith would have to say to that, for presumably he would expect his wife to feel the same way. ‘Yes, I imagine you would,’ she said soberly. ‘Married people shouldn’t have secrets.’
He gave her back her hand. ‘I’m glad we agree about that.’ He smiled briefly. ‘I’ll see you on Monday.’
He got into the Bentley and drove away and she went indoors and upstairs to take off the pink hat. It was a considerable time later that she remembered that he had said nothing at all about their journey, now only seven days away.
