Cruise to a Wedding. Бетти Нилс

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СКАЧАТЬ remarks about her fortune she had always taken with a pinch of salt, for her friend was inclined to flights of fantasy, so she really was surprised when they were met at Schiphol by a chauffeur-driven Mercedes. No hired car, this, for the man was obviously a well trusted servant and friend, greeting Rimada with the respectful familiarity of someone who had known her for a long time.

      ‘This is Jos,’ said Rimada. ‘He’s been with us ever since I can remember. He doesn’t speak English, but he’s a wizard driver.’

      They tore along the motorway in the direction of Den Haag; Rimada’s home was to the north of that city, north too of Wassenaar, its fashionable suburb. As they went, she pointed out the more interesting aspects of the countryside through which they were passing and while Loveday obediently looked from left to right so as to miss nothing, she wondered if Rimada had been wise in her decision not to tell her mother the true purpose of her cruise. A decision which, she had assured Loveday, Terry had agreed with. If it were I marrying, thought Loveday, frowning thoughtfully at a windmill, I would have wanted Mother and Father to know—I would have wanted them to meet him too. But perhaps it wasn’t quite the same in her friend’s case. She settled back more comfortably and murmured her appreciation of a particularly fine church in the distance.

      If she had been surprised at the car and the chauffeur, she was even more surprised at the sight of Rimada’s home; a large villa, embellished with balconies, turrets and fancy brickwork, set in the midst of a garden so precise that it might have been ruled out with a set-square, and so perfectly kept that it appeared to have been embroidered upon the ground rather than growing in the earth. The massive mahogany and glass door was flung open by a tall angular woman, whose rather harsh features broke into a smile as they got out of the car. ‘Jaantje,’ introduced Rimada as they went inside, and hardly pausing, crossed the thickly carpeted floor to a half-open door.

      The room they entered was lavishly furnished in a style to make Loveday blink, and in the middle of its superabundance of velvet curtains, brocade chairs, cushions, little tables loaded with silver photo frames, lamps and overstuffed chairs, sat Rimada’s mother. It could be none other; here was Rimada, shorter and stouter and rather heavily made up, there were the blue eyes, as large as her daughter’s, and the sweet smile. The lady got to her feet as they went in, the folds of her gossamer garment—quite unsuitable for the time of day—floating around her in an expensive cloud of haute couture chiffon.

      ‘Lieveling—Rimtsje!’ She enfolded her daughter lovingly and with some difficulty, because Rimada was a head taller and very much larger than her mother. ‘And Loveday.’ She turned to smile. ‘I hear so much of you,’ she went on in perfect English, ‘you have been so kind to my little girl in her exile.’

      Loveday shook hands and murmured; she had never thought of Rimada as being in exile before; perhaps her mother was given to embroider her conversation with the exaggerations which sometimes adorned her daughter’s. And she had never thought of her friend as a little girl, either; her mother had undoubtedly never seen her offspring making a play for the numerous young men who took her fancy at the Royal City.

      They all sat down, and coffee was brought in presently while they talked—Rimada did most of the talking, to such good effect that by the time they had finished their second cups and nibbled the biscuits which went with them, she had coaxed more than twice the amount she needed for her holiday from her mother; nor did that lady seem in the least surprised at the sum her daughter asked for.

      ‘Dear child,’ she said earnestly, ‘it is quite ridiculous that Adam doesn’t allow you more money. The least he could have done after forcing you to take up nursing in that dreary hospital, was to see that you had sufficient with which to enjoy yourself. I have mentioned it to him on many occasions, you know, but he is as steel; my motherly feelings have no effect upon him; he is a hard man.’ She dabbed her eyes with a large chiffon handkerchief and went on with the same breath, ‘tomorrow we will go to Den Haag; I saw a delightful little dress in Kuhne’s, just right for you, dearest. A little expensive, I am afraid, but we must see what we can do.’ She smiled kindly at Loveday. ‘You like clothes, Loveday?’

      The three ladies embarked happily upon this interesting subject and were only interrupted by the entrance of Jaantje, inquiring if the young ladies would like to tidy themselves before lunch, and if so, she would show Miss her room.

      Loveday found her bedroom to be as elaborately furnished as the sitting-room; its comfort amounting to luxury. But not quite to her fancy, she decided as she walked round it, picking things up and putting them down again. It was a room to suit Rimada’s mother down to the ground; Rimada too, she rather thought, but for her own taste it was a little too ornate and over-furnished. She found her way to the bathroom leading from it and eyed the gold-plated taps with something like awe; she had never quite believed Rimada when she had said that her mother was rich, but she could see now that she had been mistaken. She washed her face and hands, re-did her hair and face and went downstairs for lunch.

      They went shopping the following morning. At least Rimada and her mother shopped while Loveday admired and tried not to envy. She considered Den Haag a lovely city and longed to explore, but it was obvious that there was to be none of that; Rimada, in the excitement of choosing a wardrobe of new clothes, had no thought for anything else; naturally enough. Loveday, with an eye to her slender purse, purchased one or two trifles for her family and refused to be coaxed or bullied, however gently, into buying anything for herself. It wasn’t as if, she told her friend later, she was going to be the bride, and it really didn’t matter a great deal what she wore as long as she was presentable. She had some nice clothes, perhaps not quite as new as she would have liked, but elegant and becoming; she had good taste and an eye for fashion and the fortunate attribute of wearing the right things at the right time. Later that day she sat on Rimada’s bed, staring out on to the flat, tranquil countryside, swept by September rain and a bustling wind, and applauded suitably each time her friend opened a box to reveal some new garment.

      ‘You’re sure, aren’t you, Rimmy?’ she asked suddenly.

      Her friend held up a blue crêpe dress. ‘Well, of course. Look—it is exactly the colour of my eyes.’

      ‘Silly—I mean about marrying Terry. It’s easy enough for us to get a holiday and just go, but won’t he find himself without a job?’

      Rimada nodded, not giving her whole attention. ‘I think so, but he does not mind that. He is far too clever for this job he has, you know. He will one day be a clever surgeon with an enormous practice.’

      Loveday remembered his singular ineptitude in theatre and doubted it very much. All the same, he was qualified to a certain extent; he could always earn a living. Only, watching Rimada happily trying on her new clothes, Loveday wondered if that would be enough to content her. Just supposing her guardian didn’t relent? How would she react to being the wife of a comparatively poor young doctor—and how could he hope to be anything else for quite a number of years to come? He would have to work for his fellowship to start with, and that would mean at least two years’ hard study. She voiced her doubts: ‘Supposing you can’t get your money, Rimmy, do you suppose it would be better for you to wait a bit? You could be engaged, you know, until Terry has made his way…if your guardian sees that he intends to make a success of surgery, he’ll probably help.’

      She watched Rimada’s mouth set stubbornly. ‘No. I wish to marry now, and so does Terry—nothing shall stop us.’ She shot Loveday a speculative glance. ‘If you back out now, I will still get what I want.’ And Loveday believed her.

      They went down to a rather splendid dinner presently, and friends came in afterwards. Loveday, introduced as Rimada’s closest friend, was passed from group to group, thankfully surprised to find that everyone there could speak English. She was having a lovely time, she told herself firmly, hiding what she was distressed СКАЧАТЬ