A Little Moonlight. Betty Neels

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СКАЧАТЬ room when the head porter rang up. She was to leave everything with him and Dr ter Feulen would collect his letters later.

      She handed in her work and hurried to catch her bus, rehearsing what she would say to her mother. Her spirits sank as she neared home—her mother would never consent to the upheaval in her well-ordered life. She let herself into her home, resigned to disappointment but all the same determined to do her best to persuade her parent that a change of scene would do her a great deal of good.

      She cast off her outdoor things in the hall and went into the sitting-room.

      Her mother was sitting at her writing desk, pen poised. ‘There you are, darling. What splendid news—I’ve had such a long chat on the telephone with Dr ter Feulen. He sounds a delightful man—apologised for keeping you so late and told me how much he depends upon your assistance. And this marvellous job you’re to take over, and going to Holland too! I can hardly wait. He is of the opinion that a change of scene is just what is needed for someone as delicate as I am.’

      Her mother paused for breath and Serena said in a voice she strove to keep calm, ‘He rang up? So you know all about it? And you’d like to go? It won’t be too much for you, Mother?’

      ‘Certainly not! It will probably take a few days for me to get over the journey, but I will willingly tire myself out for you, darling. I’m making a list of the clothes I shall need … Have you had supper? I’ve been so busy … Could you get us something now? I must keep up what strength I have.’ She looked at Serena. ‘You look a bit white, dear. You need a meal too, I dare say.’

      ‘Mother, I haven’t said I’d take the job yet.’

      Her mother gave her an outraged look. ‘Darling, why ever not? What a funny little thing you are! Why ever not?’

      ‘I wasn’t sure if you would like the idea.’

      Her mother laughed. ‘Darling, I love the idea! Tell me, how old is this Dr ter Feulen?’

      ‘I don’t know—about thirty-five or -six, I should think.’

      ‘Married?’

      ‘I’ve no idea.’ A fib, and she wasn’t sure why she had said it.

      ‘Well, we’re bound to get to know a lot of people in Amsterdam. Pour me a glass of sherry, will you, Serena? I need the stimulant.’

      There was little opportunity to think her own thoughts that evening. Mrs Proudfoot made plans, discussed clothes and speculated as to the pleasures in store.

      ‘Mother, it won’t be quite like a holiday,’ Serena warned carefully. ‘I shall be working very hard every day, so you’ll be on your own for a great deal of the time.’

      ‘I’m on my own every day now, darling, and deadly boring it is too. If only I had your health and strength.’

      They got to bed at last, and Serena lay awake for a long time wondering if she had done the right thing, or rather if the right thing had been done for her, for she had had little say in the matter.

      She wasn’t sure if she was pleased at the doctor’s intervention either. He had forced her hand and there was no going back now, for her mother was determined to go. All the same, when she saw him in the morning she would tell him that he had no right to interfere. On this firm resolution she at last slept.

      CHAPTER TWO

      SERENA was still firmly resolved to speak her mind to the doctor when she went to work in the morning. It was unfortunate that it wasn’t until the end of the day that she had the opportunity to do so.

      She was on the way to the side entrance she normally used when she came face to face with him. She slid to a halt and said briskly, ‘Oh, good, I wanted to see you, Dr ter Feulen.’

      He stood in front of her, blocking the way. ‘Ah, Miss Proudfoot, should I be greatly flattered at your eagerness to see me again?’ He paused and looked at her earnest, rather cross face. ‘No, that is too much to expect. I have annoyed you?’

      She suspected that he was laughing at her. ‘I think it was most—most unfair of you to telephone my mother before I’d had a chance to talk to her. I haven’t said I’ll take the job, have I? So what right have you to—to—to …!’

      ‘Interfere?’ he suggested helpfully. ‘Meddle in your affairs? No right at all. My intentions were purely selfish. After some years of Muriel’s calm acceptance of my ill humour, impatience and bad handwriting, I have been terrified of engaging her successor. Who knows what foibles she might have? A desire to finish her work at the correct time, an inability to ignore my bad temper, a desire to answer back pertly as well as a failure to spell correctly.’ He smiled at her and she found herself smiling back. ‘You are the nearest thing to Miss Payne that I have met.’

      A kind of compliment, Serena decided, and warmed just a little towards him. But only for a moment. ‘You are unobtrusive,’ he went on. ‘There is nothing about you to distract my attention from my work—’

      ‘Just like Miss Payne,’ said Serena through her teeth.

      ‘Exactly so, and I must remind you that a change of scene may be a help to your mother and aid her to overcome her ill health. She seemed delighted at the idea.’

      Serena, hanging on to politeness by the skin of her teeth, agreed that that was so.

      He smiled again, looking faintly smug, and she longed to refuse the job out of hand, but the thought of her mother stopped her. She said reluctantly, ‘Very well, I’ll work for you, Dr ter Feulen.’

      ‘Splendid.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘And since I have kept you talking I will drive you home and make the acquaintance of your mother.’

      She opened her mouth to protest, and closed it again. Getting the better of him was like getting the better of a feather mattress with a solid core of steel.

      Her annoyance was very slightly mitigated by the pleasure of riding in a Bentley, but not sufficient for her to do more than answer his casual talk with monosyllables. She opened her front door and said with false politeness, ‘Do come in, Dr ter Feulen,’ and flattened herself against the wall to allow his considerable bulk to get past her.

      Her mother’s voice sounded thinly from the sitting-room. ‘Serena? You’re late again, darling—I hope you’ve thought of something nice for my supper, I’m far too exhausted to do anything about it. Perhaps a glass of sherry …?’

      The doctor glanced at Serena’s face, which was a little pale and weary after a day’s work. He had been right in his surmise about her mother; a selfish woman, not unkind but quite uncaring of anyone but herself. He put a large hand on her shoulder and smiled a little, and she stifled an urge to fling herself on to his big chest and have a good cry.

      ‘Come and meet Mother,’ she invited in a small controlled voice.

      The doctor had charm. He also had guile and the self-assurance to deal with difficult situations without anyone else realising the fact. Within half an hour, over a glass of sherry, he had arranged matters exactly to his liking, with Mrs Proudfoot agreeing to every word, and although he had included Serena in the conversation she was bound to admit later that she had been given no opportunity to say anything much. The whole matter had been settled СКАЧАТЬ