The Little Dragon. Betty Neels

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СКАЧАТЬ anything like this—I have to eat the same food as she does.’

      Her companion looked astonished. ‘But she’s on a diabetic diet, is she not?’

      Constantia nodded. ‘Yes—I have sugar in my tea and coffee, of course. But no cake or biscuits or puddings.’

      The doctor muttered something in Dutch and she said severely: ‘That sounded rude.’

      He laughed. ‘It was. Have another cake—your carbohydrates must be at a very low ebb.’

      She speared a second luscious confection. ‘Yes, I thought that too. I’m being greedy. You’ve not eaten anything.’ It occurred to her suddenly that perhaps he hadn’t very much money—three children would cost a lot to feed and he had a dreadful old car. On the other hand, when he had taken off his sheepskin jacket, she had noticed that the grey suit he was wearing was of very fine cloth and most elegantly cut. Of course, being such a size he would have to have his clothes made for him, just as he would have to present a well-tailored person to his patients. Probably he bought a very expensive suit every five years or so. It worried her a little and she said presently: ‘It is kind of you to give me tea—I mean, we’ve only just met, and you didn’t have to…if we’d been old friends or not seen each other for a long time…’

      He smiled lazily at her. ‘I hope we’ll soon be old friends, and I have the strangest feeling that I have known you for a very long time.’

      ‘That’s funny—I felt like that too when we met. Perhaps we’ve met before and haven’t remembered.’ She poured more tea for them both. ‘Do you ever go to London?’

      ‘Yes—from time to time.’

      ‘Well, perhaps that’s it? St Anne’s isn’t a very big hospital, but it specialises in deficiency diseases and diabetes and metabolism.’

      ‘And do you plan to go back there?’

      She shook her head. ‘Oh, no, I thought I’d do private nursing for a year because one can really save money, and then I shall go to Canada or New Zealand.’

      ‘Your family don’t mind?’ he asked.

      ‘I haven’t a family. I can only just remember my parents. An aunt brought me up; she died a year or two ago. There isn’t anyone else.’

      ‘No boy-friend?’

      ‘No.’

      He leaned back in his chair and looked at her thoughtfully. ‘I’m surprised. Don’t you approve of us?’

      She had to laugh. ‘Of course I do, only I’ve never met anyone I wanted to marry. I expect I shall one day.’

      ‘I expect you will, too. In the meantime you have Mrs Dowling to contend with.’ He took a pipe from his pocket. ‘Would you mind if I smoked?’

      ‘Not a bit.’ She savoured the last crumbs of her cake. ‘I should be going.’

      ‘You have a half day—surely you can stay out as long as you wish?’

      ‘Oh, yes, of course. I wasn’t going back to Mrs Dowling. There’s an organ recital at the Walloon church—I thought I’d go.’

      ‘And until then?’ he prompted.

      ‘Well, I want to look at the shops and learn my way about the town.’ She picked up her gloves and began to put them on. ‘I have enjoyed my afternoon. Thank you very much, Doctor van der Giessen.’

      She stifled quick disappointment at his noncommittal, ‘That sounds very pleasant,’ and when she got up he rose to his feet too with no sign of reluctance—and there was no reason why he should do otherwise, she told herself sensibly.

      All the same, the rest of her half day seemed flat. Constantia had faced loneliness for several years now, quite cheerfully, too, but now she felt lonely. As she prepared for bed later she decided it was because she hadn’t met anyone—any man—with whom she had felt so relaxed. Probably she would see him again from time to time, but she would have to take care not to go out of her way to do so. He had been kind because she was a stranger in Delft and he had wanted her to see something of it. He would be a very good friend, she thought sleepily; impersonal friendliness among the young men she had known had been a rarity…

      She closed her eyes, content with her day, and then opened them again as Mrs Dowling’s bell pinged in her ear. Constantia stifled a yawn, put on her dressing gown and slippers, and went along to the large room at the front of the house. Mrs Dowling always rang when she had had a half day; probably to make her pay for her free time. Constantia made a charmingly naughty face and opened the door.

      ‘There you are,’ declared her patient, quite unnecessarily. ‘I can’t sleep—I’ll have a cup of tea. What did you do with yourself?’

      ‘Oh, I had a delightful afternoon,’ Constantia told her happily, and went away to make the tea.

      CHAPTER TWO

      CONSTANTIA SAW Doctor van der Giessen three days later, on a rather bleak Sunday afternoon, because Mrs Dowling had decided that it suited her to allow Constantia to have her half day then…that there would be very little for her to do hadn’t entered her patient’s head. She was having friends in for tea and bridge, and there would be no need for her company.

      So Constantia wrapped herself up in her winter coat once more and went for a walk. The Hotel Central would be open, she would have tea there and then go back and write letters and perhaps spend an hour conning the Dutch phrase book she had purchased; and if the walk palled, there were two museums which would be open until five o’clock. She had been saving them for a wet day, but they would pass a pleasant hour.

      She was making her way towards the Nieuwe Plantage when she saw the doctor coming towards her. He wasn’t alone; there were three small children skipping around him and two magnificent long-haired Alsatian dogs were at his heels, and trotting along on a lead, a small black and white dog of no known parentage.

      ‘Another half day?’ asked the doctor as they drew level with her and came to a halt.

      ‘Yes. Mrs Dowling is playing bridge this afternoon.’

      ‘We were just saying that we would like something nice to happen—and here you are.’

      ‘Well,’ began Constantia, ‘you’re very kind to say so.’

      ‘Paul,’ he introduced the elder of the two boys, ‘and Pieter, seven and nine years old, and Elisabeth—she’s five.’

      The children shook hands and smiled at her. They were nice-looking and very clean and neat; she wondered how the doctor managed that.

      ‘And the dogs—Solly and Sheba, and this…’ He indicated the nondescript animal now worrying his shoes, ‘is Prince.’

      Constantia stroked three silky heads and said ‘Hullo,’ and the doctor observed: ‘Good, now you know everyone. We’re on our way back from the usual Sunday afternoon walk.’ He paused and went on smoothly: ‘We mustn’t keep you—your free time is precious.’

      Constantia’s tongue almost tripped over СКАЧАТЬ