THERE was very little time left for Emmy to dress. Which was perhaps just as well. She lay too long in the bath and had to tear into her clothes, zipping up the brown dress with furious fingers, brushing her hair until her eyes watered.
She had made a fool of herself; the professor must have been amused, he must have seen how his kiss had affected her-like a silly schoolgirl, she told her reflection. If only she didn't love him she would hate him. She would be very cool for the entire evening, let him see that she considered his kiss-his mistletoe kiss, she reminded herself-was no consequence at all.
Her mother and father had already gone downstairs; she hurried after them just in time to see Anneliese making an entrance. Vivid peacock-blue taffeta this evening. In a style slightly too girlish for the wearer, decided Emmy waspishly, before going to greet Grandmother ter Mennolt-who had spent most of the day in her room but had now joined the family party, wearing purple velvet and a cashmere shawl fastened with the largest diamond brooch Emmy had ever set eyes on.
Emmy wished her good evening and would have moved away, but the old lady caught her arm. 'Stay, child. I have seen very little of you. I enjoyed a talk with your parents. They return tomorrow?'
'Yes, mevrouw. I'm staying for a little while to help Joke while her nanny goes on holiday.'
'You will be here for the New Year? It is an important occasion to us in Holland.'
'I don't know; I shouldn't think so. Will it be a family gathering again?'
'Yes, but just for the evening. You are enjoying yourself?'
'Yes, thank you. Very much.'
'Excellent. Now run along and join the others.' The old lady smiled. 'I must confess that I prefer the quiet of my room, but it is Christmas and one must make merry!'
Which described the evening very well-drinks before dinner sent everyone into the dining room full of bonhomie, to sit down to a traditional Christmas dinner-turkey, Christmas pudding, mince pies, crackers, port and walnuts…
The cousin sitting next to Emmy, whose name she had forgotten, accepted a second mince pie. 'Of course, not all Dutch families celebrate as we do here. This is typically English, is it not? But you see we have married into English families from time to time, and this is one of the delightful customs we have adopted. Will you be here for the New Year?'
'I don't know. I don't expect so. I'm only staying for a few days while Nanny has a holiday.'
'We return home tomorrow-all of us. But we shall be here again for New Year. But only for one night. We are that rare thing-a happy family. We enjoy meeting each other quite frequently. You have brothers and sisters?'
'No, there is just me. But I have always been happy at home.'
'The children like you…'
'Well, I like them.' She smiled at him and turned to the elderly man on her other side. She wasn't sure who he was, and his English was heavily accented, but he was, like everyone else-except Anneliese and her parents-friendly towards her.
After dinner everyone went back to the drawing room, to talk and gossip, going from group to group, and Emmy found herself swept up by Joke, listening to the lively chatter, enjoying herself and quite forgetting the brown dress and the way in which the professor avoided her.
It was while Joke, her arm linked in Emmy's, was talking to friends of the professor's-a youngish couple and something, she gathered, to do with one of the hospitals-that Anneliese joined them.
She tapped Emmy on the arm. 'Ruerd tells me you are to stay here for a few weeks as nanny to Joke's children. How fortunate you are, Emmy, to find work so easily after your lovely holiday.' She gave a titter. 'Let us hope that it hasn't given you ideas above your station.'
Emmy reminded herself that this was the professor's fiancйe and that after this evening she need not, with any luck, ever see her again. Which was just as well, for the temptation to slap her was very strong.
She said in a gentle voice, aware that her companions were bating their breath, 'I'm sure you will agree with me that work at any level is preferable to idling away one's life, wasting money on unsuitable clothes-' she cast an eloquent eye at Anneliese's flat chest '-and wasting one's days doing nothing.'
If I sound like a prig, that's too bad, thought Emmy, and smiled her sweetest smile.
Now what would happen?
Joke said instantly, 'You're quite right, Emmy-I'm sure I agree, Anneliese.' And she was backed up by murmurs from her companions.
Anneliese, red in the face, said sharply, 'Well, of course I do. Excuse me, I must speak to Aunt Beatrix…'
'You mean our aunt Beatrix,' said Joke in a voice of kindly reproval. Anneliese shot her a look of pure dislike and went away without another word.
'I simply must learn to hold my tongue,' said Joke, and giggled. 'I'm afraid I shall be a very nasty sister-in-law. Alemke is much more civil, although it plays havoc with her temper.'
She caught Emmy's sleeve. 'Come and talk to Grandmother. She will be going back to den Haag in the morning. Well, everyone will be going, won't they? Ruerd last of all, after lunch, and that leaves you and the children and me, Emmy.'
'I shall like that,' said Emmy. She was still shaking with rage. Anneliese would go to Ruerd and tell him how rude she had been, and he would never speak to her again…
She was talking to her mother when Anneliese went home with her parents. She gave them no more than a cool nod as she swept past them. The professor, as a good host should, saw them into their car and when he came back went to talk to his grandmother. It wasn't until everyone was dispersing much later to their beds that he came to wish the Fosters a good night and to hope that they had enjoyed their evening.
'I trust that you enjoyed yourself, too, Ermentrude,' he observed, looking down his splendid nose at her.
How nice if one could voice one's true thoughts and feelings, thought Emmy, assuring him in a polite voice that she had had a splendid evening.
He said, 'Good, good. I have to go to Leiden in the morning, but I shall see you before we go after lunch.'
For the last time, thought Emmy, and kissed her mother and father goodnight and went up the staircase to her bed.
Once breakfast was over in the morning people began to leave-stopping for a last-minute gossip, going back to find something they'd forgotten to pack, exchanging last-minute messages. They went at last, and within minutes the professor had got into his car and driven away too, leaving Emmy and her parents with Joke and the children.
Mrs Foster went away to finish her packing and Mr Foster retired to the library to read the Daily Telegraph, which Cokker had conjured up from somewhere. Since Joke wanted to talk to Tiele about the running of the house once the professor had gone, Emmy dressed the children in their outdoor things, wrapped herself in her coat, tied a scarf over her head and took them off to the village, with Solly and Tip for company.
They bought sweets in the small village shop and the dogs crunched the biscuits old Mevrouw Kamp offered them while she took a good look at Emmy, nodding and smiling while the children talked. Emmy had no doubt that it was about her, but the old lady looked friendly enough and, when she offered the children a sweetie from the jar on the counter, she offered Emmy one too. It tasted horrid, but she chewed it with apparent pleasure and wondered what it was.
'Zoute drop,' she was told. 'And weren't they delicious?'
For anyone partial to a sweet made of salt probably they were, thought Emmy, and swallowed the last morsel thankfully.
They lunched early as the professor wanted to leave by one o'clock. He joined in the talk-teasing the children, making last-minute arrangements with his sister, discussing the latest news with Mr Foster. But, although he was careful to see that Emmy had all that she wanted and was included in the talk, he had little to say to her.
I shan't see him again, thought Emmy, and I can't bear it. She brightened, though, when she remembered that she would be going back to England later and there was a chance that he might take her if he was on one of his flying visits to one or other of the hospitals. The thought cheered her so much that she was able to bid him goodbye with brisk friendliness and thank him suitably for her visit. 'It was a lovely Christmas,' she told him, and offered a hand, to have it engulfed in his.
His brief, too cheerful, 'Yes, it was, wasn't it?' made it only too plain that behind his good manners he didn't care tuppence…
She bade her mother and father goodbye, pleased to see what a lot of good these few days had done them. A little luxury never harmed anyone, she reflected, and hoped that the lodge would be quickly restored to normal.
'When you get home everything will be sorted out,' her mother assured her. 'Your father and I feel so rested we can tackle anything. Take care of yourself, love, won't you? Ruerd says you could do with a few more days before you go job-hunting.'
If it hadn't been for the children the house would have seemed very quiet once its master had driven away, but the rest of the day was taken up with the pleasurable task of re-examining the presents which they had had at Christmas, and a visit to the village shop once more to buy paper and envelopes for the less pleasurable task of writing the thank-you letters.
On the following day they all got into Joke's car and drove along the coast as far as Alkmaar. The cheese museum was closed for the winter, but there was the clock, with its mechanical figures circling round it on each hour, and the lovely cathedral church, as well as the picturesque old houses and shops. They lunched in a small cafй, off erwtensoep-a pea soup so thick that a spoon could stand upright in it-and roggebrood. The children made Emmy repeat the names after them, rolling around with laughter at her efforts.
It was a surprisingly happy day, and Emmy was kept too busy to think about the professor. Only that night as she got into bed did she spare him a thought. He would be back in Chelsea by now, with Beaker looking after him. He would have phoned Anneliese, of course. He would miss her, thought Emmy sleepily, although how a man could miss anyone as disagreeable as she was a bit of a puzzle.
There was a phone call from her mother in the morning. They had had a splendid trip back; Ruerd had taken them right to their door, and there had been a letter waiting for them, telling them that the furniture would be removed in a day's time.
'So now we can get things straight,' said her mother happily. 'And Ruerd is so splendid-he unloaded a box of the most delicious food for us, and a bottle of champagne. One meets such a person so seldom in life, and when one does it is so often for a brief period. We shall miss him. He sent his kind regards, by the way, love.'
An empty, meaningless phrase, reflected Emmy.
She was to have the children all day as Joke was going to den Haag to the hairdresser's and to do some shopping. It was a bright, cold day, so, with everyone well wrapped-up, she led them down to the sea, tramping along the sand with Tip and Solly gavotting around them. They all threw sticks, racing up and down, shouting and laughing to each other, playing tig, daring each other to run to the water's edge and back.
Emmy shouted with them; there was no one else to hear or see them, and the air was exhilarating. They trooped back presently, tired and hungry, to eat the lunch Cokker had waiting for them and then go to the nursery, where they sat around the table playing cards-the littlest one on Emmy's lap, her head tucked into Emmy's shoulder, half asleep.
They had tea there presently and, since Joke wasn't back yet, Emmy set about getting them ready for bed. Bathed and clad in dressing gowns they were eating their suppers when their mother returned.
'Emmy, you must be worn out. I never meant to be so long, but I met some friends and had lunch with them and then I had the shopping to do. Have you hated it?'
'I've enjoyed every minute,' said Emmy quite truthfully. 'I had a lovely day; I only hope the children did, too.'
'Well, tomorrow we're all going to den Haag to have lunch with my mother and father. They were away for Christmas-in Denmark with a widowed aunt. They'll be here for New Year, though. You did know that we had parents living?'
'The professor mentioned it.'
'Christmas wasn't quite the same without them, but we'll all be here in a few days.'
'You want me to come with you tomorrow?' asked Emmy. 'I'm quite happy to stay here-I mean, it's family…'
Joke smiled. 'I want you to come if you will, Emmy.' She wondered if she should tell her that her parents had been told all about her by Ruerd, and decided not to. It was his business. They had never been a family to interfere with each other's lives, although she and Alemke very much wished to dissuade him from marrying Anneliese.
There was undoubtedly something Ruerd was keeping to himself, and neither of them had seen any sign of love or even affection in his manner towards Anneliese, although he was attentive to her needs and always concerned for her comfort. Good manners wouldn't allow him to be otherwise. And he had been careful to avoid being alone with Emmy at Christmas. Always polite towards her, his friendliness also aloof. Knowing her brother, Joke knew that he wouldn't break his word to Anneliese, although she strongly suspected that he had more than a casual interest in Emmy.
They drove to den Haag in good spirits in the morning. The children spoke a little English and Emmy taught them some of the old-fashioned nursery rhymes, which they sang for most of the way. Only as they reached a long, stately avenue with large houses on each side of it did Emmy suggest that they should stop. Joke drove up the short drive of one of these houses and stopped before its ponderous door. 'Well, here we are,' she declared. 'Oma and Opa will be waiting.'
The door opened as they reached it and a stout, elderly woman welcomed them.
'This is Nynke,' said Joke, and Emmy shook hands and waited while the children hugged and kissed her. 'The housekeeper. She has been with us since I was a little girl.' It was her turn to be hugged and kissed before they all went into the hall to take off coats and scarves and gloves, and go through the arched double doors Nynke was holding open for them.
The elderly couple waiting for them at the end of the long, narrow room made an imposing pair. The professor's parents were tall-his father with the massive frame he had passed on to his son, and his mother an imposing, rather stout figure. They both had grey hair, and his father was still a handsome man, but his mother, despite her elegant bearing, had a homely face, spared from downright plainness by a pair of very blue eyes.
No wonder he has fallen in love with Anneliese, reflected Emmy, with that lovely face and golden hair.
The children swarmed over their grandparents, although they were careful to mind their manners, and presently stood quietly while Joke greeted her parents.
'And this is Emmy,' she said, and put a hand on Emmy's arm. 'I am so glad to have her with me for a few days-she's been staying with her parents over Christmas at Huis ter Mennolt. Rik's away, and it's lovely to have company.'
Emmy shook hands, warmed by friendly smiles and greetings in almost accentless English. Presently Mevrouw ter Mennolt drew her to one side and, over coffee and tiny almond biscuits, begged her to tell her something of herself.
'Ruerd mentioned that he had guests from England when he phoned us. You know him well?'
The nice, plain face smiled, the blue eyes twinkled. Emmy embarked on a brief rйsumй of her acquaintance with the professor, happily unaware that her companion had already had a detailed account from her son. It was what he hadn't said which had convinced his mother that he was more than a little interested in Emmy.
Watching Emmy's face, almost as plain as her own, she wished heartily for a miracle before Anneliese managed to get her son to the altar. Mevrouw ter Mennolt had tried hard to like her, since her son was to marry the girl, but she had had no success, and Anneliese, confident in her beauty and charm, had never made an effort to gain her future mother-in-law's affection.
Emmy would, however, do very nicely. Joke had told her that she was right for Ruerd, and she found herself agreeing. The children liked her and that, for a doting grandmother, was an important point. She hadn't forgotten Anneliese once flying into a rage during a visit because Joke's youngest had accidentally put a grubby little paw on Anneliese's white skirt. It was a pity that Ruerd hadn't been there, for her lovely face had grown ugly with temper. Besides, this quiet, rather shabbily dressed girl might be the one woman in the world who understood Ruerd, a man who's feelings ran deep and hidden from all but those who loved him.
Emmy was handed over to her host presently, and although she was at first wary of this older edition of the professor he put her at her ease in minutes, talking about gardening, dogs and cats, and presently he bade her fetch her coat.
'We have a garden here,' he told her. 'Not as splendid as that at Huis ter Mennolt, but sufficient for us and Max. Let us take the dogs for a quick run before lunch.'
They went through the house, into a conservatory, out of doors onto a terrace and down some steps to the garden below. Max, the black Labrador, Solly and Tip went with them, going off the path to search for imaginary rabbits, while Emmy and Ruerd's father walked briskly down its considerable length to the shrubbery at the end.
All the while they talked. At least, the old man talked, and a great deal of what he said concerned his son. Emmy learned more about Ruerd in fifteen minutes than she had in all the weeks she had known him. She listened avidly; soon she would never see him again, so every small scrap of information about him was precious, to be stored away, to be mulled over in a future empty of him.
Back at the house she led the children away to have their hands washed and their hair combed before lunch. They went up the stairs and into one of the bathrooms-old-fashioned like the rest of the house, but lacking nothing in comfort. She liked the house. It wasn't like Huis ter Mennolt; it had been built at a later date-mid-nineteenth century, she guessed-and the furniture was solid and beautifully cared for. Beidermeier? she thought, not knowing much about it. Its walls were hung with family portraits and she longed to study them as she urged the children downstairs once again, all talking at once and laughing at her attempts to understand them.
She was offered dry sherry in the drawing room while the children drank something pink and fizzy-a special drink they always had at their grandmother's, they told her, before they all went into the dining room for lunch.
It was a pleasant meal, with the children on their best be-haviour and conversation which went well with eating the lamb chops which followed the celery soup-nothing deep which required long pauses while something was debated and explained-and nothing personal. No one, thought Emmy, had mentioned Anneliese once, which, since she was so soon to be a member of the family, seemed strange.
Christmas was discussed, and plans for the New Year.
'We shall all meet again at Huis ter Mennolt,' explained Joke. 'Just for dinner in the evening, and to wish each other a happy New Year. Ruerd will come back just for a day or two; he never misses.'
They sat around after lunch, and presently, when the children became restive, Emmy sat them round a table at the other end of the drawing room and suggested cards. 'Snap', 'beggar your neighbour' and 'beat your neighbour out of doors' she had already taught them, and they settled down to play. Presently she was making as much noise as they were.
It was a large room; the three persons at the other end of it were able to talk without hindrance, and, even if Emmy could have heard them, she couldn't have understood a word. Good manners required them to talk in English while she was with them, but now they embarked on the subject nearest to their hearts-Ruerd.
They would have been much cheered if they had known that he was in his office at St Luke's, sitting at his desk piled with patients' notes, charts and department reports, none of which he was reading. He was thinking about Emmy.
When he returned to Holland in a few days' time, he would ask Anneliese to release him from their engagement. It was a step he was reluctant to take for, although he had no feeling for her any more, he had no wish to humiliate her with her friends. But to marry her when he loved Ermentrude was out of the question. Supposing Ermentrude wouldn't have him? He smiled a little; then he would have to remain a bachelor for the rest of his days.
He would have his lovely home in Holland, his pleasant house in Chelsea, his dogs, his work…but a bleak prospect without her.
Joke, Emmy and the children drove back to Huis ter Mennolt after tea. With the coming of evening it was much colder. 'We shall probably have some snow before much longer,' said Joke. 'Do you skate, Emmy?'
'No, only roller-skating when I was a little girl. We don't get much snow at home.'
'Well, we can teach you while you are here.' Joke added quickly, 'Nanny isn't coming back for another couple of days. Her mother has the flu, and she doesn't want to give it to the children. You won't mind staying for a few days longer?'
Emmy didn't mind. She didn't mind where she was if the professor wasn't going to be there too.
'You've heard from your mother?' asked Joke.
'Yes; everything is going very well at last. The furniture will be gone today and the plumber has almost finished whatever it was he had to do. By the time the term starts they should be well settled in. I ought to have been there to help…'
'Well, Ruerd advised against it, didn't he? And I dare say your mother would have worried over you if you had worked too hard or got wet.'
'Well, yes, I suppose so.'
Emmy eased the smallest child onto her lap so that Solly could lean against her shoulder. Tip was in front with the eldest boy. It was a bit of a squash in the big car, but it was warm and comfortable, smelling of damp dog and the peppermints the children were eating.
The next morning Joke went back to den Haag. 'Cokker will look after you all,' she told Emmy. 'Take the children out if you like. They're getting excited about New Year. Everyone will be coming tomorrow in time for lunch, but Ruerd phoned to say he won't get here until the evening. I hope he'll stay for a few days this time. He'll take you back with him when he does go. If that suits you?' Joke studied Emmy's face. 'You do feel better for the change? I haven't asked you to do too much?'
'I've loved every minute,' said Emmy truthfully. 'I like the children and I love this house and the seashore, and you've all been so kind to me and Mother and Father.'
'You must come and see us again,' said Joke, and looked at Emmy to see how she felt about that.
'I expect I shall have a job, but it's kind of you to invite me.'
'Ruerd could always bring you over when he comes,' persisted Joke.
'Well, I don't suppose we shall see each other. I mean, he's in London and I'll be in Dorset.'
'Will you mind that?' said Joke.
Emmy bent over the French knitting she was fixing for one of the girls.
'Yes. The professor has helped me so often-you know, when things have happened. He-he always seemed to be there, if you see what I mean. I shall always be grateful to him.'
Joke said airily, 'Yes, coincidence is a strange thing, isn't it? Some people call it fate. Well, I'm off. Ask Cokker or Tiele for anything you want. I'll try and be back in time for tea, but if the traffic's heavy I may be a bit late.'
The day was much as other days-going down to the seashore, running races on the sand, with Emmy carrying the youngest, joining in the shouting and laughing and then going back to piping hot soup and crokettes, and, since it was almost new year, poffertjes-tiny pancakes sprinkled with sugar.
The two smallest children were led upstairs to rest then, and the other two went to the billiard room where they were allowed to play snooker on the small table at one end of the room.
Which left Emmy with an hour or so to herself. She went back to the drawing room and began a slow round of the portraits and then a careful study of the contents of the two great display cabinets on either side of the fireplace. She was admiring a group of figurines-Meissen, she thought-when Cokker came into the room.
'Juffrouw van Moule has called,' he told her. 'I have said that mevrouw is out, but she wishes to see you, miss.'
'Me? Whatever for?' asked Emmy. 'I expect I'd better see her, hadn't I, Cokker? I don't expect she'll stay, do you? But if the children want anything, could you please ask Tiele to go to them?'
'Yes, miss, and you will ring if you want me?'
'Thank you, Cokker.'
Anneliese came into the room with the self-assurance of someone who knew that she looked perfection itself. Indeed she was beautiful, wrapped in a soft blue wool coat, with a high-crowned Melusine hat perched on her fair hair. She took the coat off and tossed it onto a chair, sent gloves and handbag after it and sat down in one of the small easy chairs.
'Still here, Ermentrude.' It wasn't a question but a statement. 'Hanging on until the last minute. Not that it will do you any good. Ruerd must be heartily tired of you, but that is what happens when one does a good deed-one is condemned to repeat it unendingly. Still, you have had a splendid holiday, have you not? He intends that you should return to England directly after New Year. He will be staying on here for a time; we have the wedding arrangements to complete. You did know that we are to marry in January?'
She looked at Emmy's face. 'No, I see that you did not know. I expect he knew that I would tell you. So much easier for me to do it, is it not? It is embarrassing for him, knowing that you are in love with him, although heaven knows he has never given you the least encouragement. I suppose someone like you, living such a dull life, has to make do with daydreams.'
Anneliese smiled and sat back in her chair.
'It seems to me,' said Emmy, in a voice she willed to keep steady, 'that you are talking a great deal of nonsense. Is that why you came? And you haven't told me anything new. I know that you and the professor are to be married, and I know that I am going back to England as soon as Nanny is back, and I know that you have been very rude and rather spiteful.'
She watched with satisfaction as Anneliese flushed brightly. 'I believe in being outspoken too. We dislike each other; I have no use for girls like you. Go back to England and find some clerk or shopkeeper to marry you. It is a pity that you ever had a taste of our kind of life.' She eyed Emmy shrewdly. 'You do believe me, don't you, about our marriage?'
And when Emmy didn't answer she said, 'I'll prove it.'
She got up and went to the phone on one of the side-tables. 'Ruerd's house number,' she said over her shoulder. 'If he isn't there I will ring the hospital.' She began to dial. 'And you know what I shall say? I shall tell him that you don't believe me, that you hope in your heart that he loves you and that you will continue to pester him and try and spoil his happiness.'
'You don't need to phone,' said Emmy quietly. 'I didn't believe you, but perhaps there is truth in what you say. I shall go back to England as soon as I can and I shan't see him again.'
Anneliese came back to her chair. 'And you'll say nothing when he comes here tomorrow? A pity you have to be here, but it can't be helped. Luckily there will be a number of people here; he won't have time to talk to you.'
'He never has talked to me,' said Emmy. 'Only as a guest.' Emmy got up. 'I expect you would like to go now. I don't know why you have thought of me as a-well, a rival, I suppose. You're beautiful, and I'm sure you will make the professor a most suitable wife. I hope you will both be happy.'
The words had almost choked her, but she had said them. Anneliese looked surprised, but she got into her coat, picked up her gloves and bag and went out of the room without another word. Cokker appeared a minute later.
'I have prepared a pot of tea, miss; I am sure you would enjoy it.'
Emmy managed a smile. 'Oh, Cokker, thank you. I'd love it.'
He came with the tray and set it down beside her chair. 'The English, I understand, drink tea at any time, but especially at moments of great joy or despair.'
'Yes, Cokker, you are quite right; they do.'
She wasn't going to cry, she told herself, drinking the hot tea, forcing it down over the lump of tears in her throat.
She tried not to think about the things Anneliese had said. They had been spiteful, but they had had the ring of truth. Had she been so transparent in her feelings towards Ruerd? She had thought-and how silly and stupid she had been-that his kiss under the mistletoe had meant something. She didn't know what, but it had been like a spark between them. Perhaps Anneliese was right and she had been allowing herself to daydream.
Emmy went pale at the thought of meeting him, but she had the rest of the day and most of tomorrow in which to pull herself together, and the first chance she got she would go back to England.
The children had their tea and she began on the leisurely task of getting them to bed after a rousing game of ludo. They were in their dressing gowns and eating their suppers when Joke got back, and it wasn't until she and Emmy had dined that Emmy asked her when Nanny would be coming back.
'You are not happy. I have given you too much to do-the children all day long…'
'No, no. I love it here and I like being with the children, only I think that I should go home as soon as Nanny comes back. I don't mean to sound ungrateful-it's been like a lovely holiday-but I must start looking for a job.'
Emmy spoke briskly but her face was sad, and Joke wondered why. She had her answer as Emmy went on in a determinedly cheerful voice, 'Anneliese called this afternoon. I should have told you sooner, but there were so many other things to talk about with the children. She only stayed for a few minutes.'
'Why did she come here? What did she say?'
'Nothing, really; she just sort of popped in. She didn't leave any messages for you. Perhaps she wanted to know something to do with tomorrow. She will be coming, of course.'
'Oh, yes, she will be here. Was she civil? She doesn't like you much, does she?'
'No; I don't know why. She was quite polite.'
I could tell you why, thought Joke-you've stolen Ruerd's heart, something Anneliese knows she can never do.
She said aloud, 'Nanny phoned this evening while you were getting the children into bed. She will be back the day after tomorrow. I hate to see you go, Emmy.'
'I shan't forget any of you, or this house and the people in it,' said Emmy.
She had no time to think about her own plans. The house was in a bustle, getting ready for the guests. Tiele was in the kitchen making piles of oliebolljes-a kind of doughnut which everyone ate at New Year-and the maids were hurrying here and there, laying the table for a buffet lunch and getting a guest room ready in case Grandmother ter Mennolt should need to rest.
'She never misses,' said Joke. 'She and Aunt Beatrix live together at Wassenaar-that's a suburb of den Haag. They have a housekeeper and Jon, the chauffeur, who sees to the garden and stokes the boiler and so on. The aunts and uncles and cousins you met at Christmas will come-oh, and Anneliese, of course.'
Almost everyone came for lunch, although guests were still arriving during the afternoon. Anneliese had arrived for lunch, behaving, as Joke said sourly, as though she were already the mistress of the house. Her parents were with her, and a youngish man whom she introduced as an old friend who had recently returned to Holland.
'We lost touch,' she explained. 'We were quite close…' She smiled charmingly and he put an arm round her waist and smiled down at her. She had spoken in Dutch, and Alemke had whispered a translation in Emmy's ear.
'How dare she bring that man here?' she added. 'And Ruerd won't be here until quite late this evening…Oh, how I wish something would happen…'
Sometimes a wish is granted. The professor, by dint of working twice as hard as usual, was ready to leave Chelsea by the late morning. Seen off by Beaker and Charlie, he drove to Dover, crossed over the channel and made good time to his house. It was dark when he arrived, and the windows were ablaze. He let himself in through a side door, pleased to be home, and even more pleased at the thought of seeing Emmy again. He walked along the curved passage behind the hall and then paused at a half-open door of a small sitting room, seldom used. Whoever was there sounded like Anneliese. He opened the door and went in.