Tempestuous April. Бетти Нилс

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СКАЧАТЬ ‘Well, we only said hullo and good-bye, you know. He’s not quite what I expected.’ She explained about the gravy stains and the permanent stoop, and Sieske giggled.

      ‘Harry, how could you, and he is so handsome, don’t you think?’

      Harriet said ‘Very,’ with a magnificent nonchalance.

      ‘And so very rich,’ Sieske went on.

      ‘So I heard,’ said Harriet, maintaining the nonchalance. ‘How nice for him.’

      Sieske curled her legs up under her and settled herself more comfortably. ‘Also nice for his wife,’ she remarked.

      Harriet felt a sudden chill. ‘Oh? Is he going to marry, then?’ she asked, and wondered why the answer mattered so much.

      Sieske laughed.

      ‘Well, he will one day, I expect, but I think he enjoys being a … vrijgezel. I don’t know the English—it is a man who is not yet married.’

      ‘Bachelor,’ said Harriet.

      ‘Yes—well, he has many girl-friends, you see, but he does not love any of them.’

      ‘How do you know that?’ asked Harriet in a deceptively calm voice.

      ‘I asked him,’ said Sieske simply, ‘and he told me. I should like him to be happy as Wierd is happy; and I would like you to be happy too, Harry,’ she added disarmingly.

      Harriet felt herself getting red in the face. ‘But I am happy,’ she cried. ‘I’ve got what I wanted, haven’t I? A sister’s post, and—and—’ The thought struck her that probably in twenty years’ time she would still have that same sister’s post. She shuddered. ‘I’ll get up,’ she said, briskly cheerful to dispel the gloomy thought. But this she wasn’t allowed to do; the family, it seemed, were going to church at nine o’clock, and had decided that the unfamiliar service and the long sermon wouldn’t be of the least benefit to her. She was to stay in bed and go down to breakfast when she felt like it.

      Sieske got up from the bed and stretched herself. ‘We are back soon after ten, and Wierd comes to lunch. We will plan something nice to do.’ She turned round as she reached the door. ‘Go to sleep again, Harry.’

      Harriet, however, had no desire for sleep. She lay staring at the roses on the wallpaper, contemplating her future with a complete lack of enthusiasm, and was suddenly struck by the fact that this was entirely due to the knowledge that Dr Eijsinck would have no part of it. The front door banged and she got out of bed to watch the Van Minnen family make their way down the street towards church, glad of the interruption of thoughts she didn’t care to think. It wasn’t quite nine o’clock; she slipped on the nightgown’s matching peignoir and the rather ridiculous slippers which went with it, and made her way downstairs through the quiet old house to the dining-room.

      Someone had thoughtfully drawn a small table up to the soft warmth of the stove and laid it with care, for cup, saucer and plate of a bright brown earthenware, flanked by butter in a Delft blue dish, stood invitingly ready. There was coffee too, and a small basket full of an assortment of bread, and grouped together, jam and sausage and cheese. Harriet poured coffee, buttered a crusty slice of bread with a lavish hand and took a large satisfying bite. She had lifted her coffee cup half-way to her lips when the door opened.

      ‘Where’s everybody?’ asked Dr Eijsinck, without bothering to say good morning. ‘Church?’

      Harriet put down her cup. ‘Yes,’ she said, with her mouth full. His glance flickered over her and she went pink under it.

      ‘Are you ill?’ he asked politely, although his look denied his words.

      ‘Me? Ill? No.’ If he chose to think of her as a useless lazy creature, she thought furiously, she for one would not enlighten him.

      ‘Well, if you’re not ill, you’d better come to the surgery and hold down a brat with a bead up his nose.’

      ‘Certainly,’ said Harriet, ‘since you ask me so nicely; but I must dress first.’

      ‘Why? There’s no one around who’s interested in seeing you like that. The child’s about three; his mother’s in the waiting room because she’s too frightened to hold him herself; and as for me, I assure you that I am quite unaffected.’

      She didn’t like the note of mockery—he was being deliberately tiresome! She put her cup back in its saucer, got up without a word and followed him down the passage to the surgery where she waited while he fetched the child from its mother. She took the little boy in capable arms and said, ‘There, there,’ in the soft, kind voice she used to anyone ill or afraid. He sniffed and gulped, and under her approving, ‘There’s a big man, then!’ subsided into quietness punctuated by heaving breaths, so that she was able to lay him on the examination table without further ado, and steady his round head between her small firm hands. Dr Eijsinck, standing with speculum, probe and curved forceps ready to hand, grunted something she couldn’t understand and switched on his head lamp.

      ‘Will you be able to hold him with one arm?’ she asked matter-of-factly.

      He looked as though he was going to laugh, but his voice was mild enough as he replied. ‘I believe I can manage, Miss Slocombe. He’s quite small, and my arm is—er—large enough to suffice.’

      He sprayed the tiny nostril carefully and got to work, his big hand manipulating the instruments with a surprising delicacy. While he worked he talked softly to his small patient; a meaningless jumble of words Harriet could make nothing of.

      ‘Are you speaking Fries?’ she wanted to know.

      He didn’t look up. ‘Yes … I don’t mean to be rude, but Atse here doesn’t understand anything else at present.’ He withdrew a bright blue bead from the small nose and Atse at once burst into tearful roars, the while his face was mopped up. Harriet scooped him up into her arms.

      ‘Silly boy, it’s all over.’ She gave him a hug and he stopped his sobbing to look at her and say something. She returned his look in her turn. ‘It’s no good, Atse, I can’t understand.’

      Dr Eijsinck looked up from the sink where he was washing his hands.

      ‘Allow me to translate. He is observing—as I daresay many other members of his sex have done before him—that you and your—er—dress are very beautiful.’

      Harriet felt her cheeks grow hot, but she answered in a composed voice, ‘What a lovely compliment—something to remember when I get home.’

      The doctor had come to stand close to her and she handed him the little boy. ‘Good-bye, Atse, I hope I see you again.’ She shook the fat little hand, straightened the examination table, thumped up its pillow with a few brisk movements, and made for the door. She had opened it before Dr Eijsinck said quietly, ‘Thank you for your help, Miss Slocombe.’

      ‘Don’t mention it,’ she said airily, as she went through.

      The breakfast table still looked very attractive; she plugged in the coffee pot and took another bite from her bread and butter. She was spreading a second slice with a generous wafer of cheese when the door opened again. Dr Eijsinck said from the doorway, ‘I’m sorry I disturbed your breakfast.’ And then, ‘Is the coffee hot?’

      She СКАЧАТЬ