Caroline's Waterloo Read online

  She bent to scratch Rex’s woolly ear and then offered the same service to Waterloo, sitting beside the dog. ‘I went to see Queenie this evening,’ she told him. ‘It’s a wonder how she’s picked up, and Willem’s done wonders with her coat already.’

  ‘I’ve just come from there—she’s reacting very nicely to the antibiotic.’ Radinck sat down in the great winged chair opposite her, his long legs stretched out, his glass in his hand, and when she looked up briefly it was to find him staring at her again, his eyes very bright. It seemed a good idea to apply herself to her tapestry and by the time Noakes came to announce dinner was ready she had made a fine mess of it.

  And to her surprised delight, after dinner, instead of going to his study or out again, Radinck followed her into the drawing-room and sat drinking his coffee, giving no sign of wanting to go anywhere else. Her fingers shook as she fell upon the tapestry once again, but her face was quiet enough as she gave him a quick peep. He had stretched himself out comfortably and was reading a newspaper—perhaps he had forgotten that she was there.

  But he hadn’t, and presently he began to talk; observations on the news, describing an interesting case he had had at the hospital that day and going on to ask her if she would like to start Dutch lessons straight away as he had found someone suitable to teach her.

  She replied suitably to everything he said and presently, loath to do so, for she could have sat there for ever with him, she declared her intention of going to bed; it would never do for him to discover that she was eager for his company. She gave him a quiet goodnight and went to the door, aware as she went through it that he was looking at her again. She was halfway along the gallery above the hall when he called to her, and she stopped and leaned over the balustrade to ask ‘Yes, Radinck?’

  ‘You have forgotten that we are to ride together in the morning?’

  ‘No, Radinck. Shall I meet you at the stables?’

  ‘No, I shall be here at half past seven.’ He said goodnight again as she turned away.

  Contrary to her expectations Caroline slept dreamlessly until she was wakened by Ilke with her morning tea. She drank it while she dressed, afraid of being late. Actually she raced downstairs with a couple of minutes to spare, to find Radinck waiting for her. She thought he looked splendid in his riding kit and longed to tell him so. He wished her good morning and without wasting time they went to the stables. It was almost light with a clear sky and a cold wind and the grass was touched with frost. ‘If it gets much colder you will have to stop riding—once the ground gets too hard there’s more chance of a toss.’

  She said, ‘Yes, Radinck,’ meekly. Frost or no frost, she would go on riding as long as he did.

  The stables were lighted and Willem was there, busy with Jemmy and Rufus, Radinck’s great bay horse. Caro, her fingers crossed, contrived to mount neatly and watched while Radinck swung himself into the saddle, whistled to Rex, and led the way out of the yard. He hadn’t fussed over her at all, merely wanted to know if she were ready and carelessly told her to straighten her back. ‘We’ll go over the fields as far as the lane and go round the outside of the wall,’ he told her. ‘Don’t trot Jemmy in the fields, but you may do so in the lane.’

  Caro, completely overshadowed by man and horse, craned her neck to answer him. ‘Yes, very well, but I expect you like a gallop, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes, I do—but not this morning. I must find a quiet little mare for you and then we can gallop together—it hardly seems fair to expect Jemmy to do more than trot.’

  She patted the pony’s neck. ‘He’s a darling—wouldn’t he mind if I rode another horse?’

  Radinck laughed. ‘He’s been here for years—he’s quite elderly now, he’ll be good company for Queenie and her foal.’

  They reached the first field and once out of it started to trot, and presently when they reached the gate to the lane beyond Radinck said: ‘Now try a canter, Caroline.’

  She acquitted herself very well, although by the time they got back she was shaking with nerves, terrified that she would fall off or do something stupid, but she didn’t, and had the pleasure of hearing her husband say as they went indoors: ‘That went very well—do you care to ride each morning while the weather’s fine?’

  She tried not to sound eager. ‘Oh, please, if you’d like to.’

  He turned to give her a suddenly cool look. ‘I should hardly have asked you if I hadn’t wanted to, Caroline. Shall we have breakfast in fifteen minutes?’

  ‘Yes, I’ll tell Juffrouw Kropp.’ She went along the passage to the kitchen, gave her message and went upstairs to shower and change, her feelings mixed. Radinck had seemed so friendly, then suddenly he had drawn back and looked at her as though he didn’t like her after all. She was in two minds not to go down to breakfast, but if she didn’t he might think that she minded being snubbed… She changed into a tweed skirt and sweater, tied her hair back and went to join him.

  He was already at the table when she got downstairs, but he got up to draw out her chair, handed her her letters, and went back to reading his own. It was to be a silent meal, she guessed; for the time being she wasn’t a sheet anchor at all, only a nuisance. She murmured a cheerful good morning to Noakes when he came with fresh coffee, and immersed herself in her post—a letter from Clare, excitedly telling her the news that she was engaged, one from her aunt, asking vaguely if she were happy and regretting that she hadn’t been able to attend the wedding, and a card from Sister Pringle inviting her to her wedding in the New Year. Caroline was wondering what to do about it when Radinck leaned across and handed her a pile of opened letters. ‘Invitations,’ he told her. ‘Will you answer them?’

  She glanced through them and counted six and looked up in surprise. ‘But Radinck, how strange! I mean, we’ve been here for almost two weeks and no one has even telephoned, and now all these on the same day.’

  His smile mocked her. ‘My dear girl, have you forgotten that we are supposed to be newlyweds? It would hardly have been decent to have called on us or invited us anywhere for at least a fortnight.’ He tossed a letter across the table to her. ‘Here’s a letter from Rebecca—Tiele’s wife. She wants us to go over for drinks soon—she will ring you some time today.’

  ‘Am I to accept?’

  He looked faintly surprised. ‘Of course. Tiele is a close friend, and I hope you and Rebecca will be friends too. As for the others, if I tell Anna to type out the correct answer in Dutch perhaps you would copy it and get them sent off.’

  Caroline glanced through them; three invitations to drinks, one to the burgermeester’s reception in Leeuwarden and two for evening parties.

  ‘But, Radinck—’ she began, and stopped so he looked up rather impatiently.

  ‘Well?’

  ‘You don’t like going out,’ she observed, not mincing her words. ‘You said so—you like peace and quiet and time to read and…’

  ‘You do not need to remind me, my dear Caroline, I am aware of what I like. However, there are certain conventions which must be observed. We will accept the invitations we receive, and at Christmas I will— I beg your pardon—we will give a large party. By then you will have met everyone who is acquainted with me and we can revert to a normal life here. You will have had the opportunity of making any friends you wish and doubtless you will find life sufficiently entertaining.’

  Words bubbled and boiled on Caro’s tongue, and she went quite red in the face choking them back. The awful thought that she was fighting a losing battle assailed her, but not for long; she had had a glimpse just once or twice of Radinck’s other self hidden away behind all that ill humour. She told herself that it needed patience and all the love she had for him, and she had plenty of both.

  Rebecca telephoned later that morning and Caro liked her voice immediately. ‘We’re not far from you,’ said Rebecca, ‘and I’ve been dying to come and see you, but Tiele said you were entitled to a couple of weeks’ peace and quiet together. Will you come over for drinks? Could R
adinck manage tomorrow evening, do you think—I’m going to invite you to dinner too, but if he’s got something on, ring me back, will you, and we’ll be content with drinks. Have you settled down?’

  ‘Yes, thank you, though I wish I could speak Dutch, but everyone’s so kind.’

  ‘Radinck told Tiele that you were managing very well—have you started lessons yet?’

  ‘No, but Radinck said he’d found someone to teach me.’

  Rebecca giggled. ‘Well, you’ve not had much time to bother about lessons, have you?’

  She rang off presently and Caro went to her room and looked through her wardrobe, wondering what she should wear. She came to the perfectly normal female conclusion that she hadn’t anything, and then changed her mind. The rose pink jersey would do; it had had a good effect the other evening, and after all, it was Radinck she wanted to notice her, not Tiele and Rebecca.

  She broached the subject of going to dinner when Radinck came home for lunch and managed not to show her disappointment when he said that it was quite impossible. He had a hospital governors’ meeting to attend at eight o’clock; he would drive her back from the Raukema van den Ecks and go straight on to the hospital where he would get a meal later. He looked at her sharply as he said it, but she met the look calmly, remarking that it would be nice to meet another English girl. ‘She sounded sweet,’ she declared. ‘Would you like your coffee here or in the drawing-room?’

  ‘I’m due back in ten minutes—I won’t wait. Don’t wait dinner for me either, Caroline; I’ll have some sandwiches when I get back.’ He was at the door when he paused and asked: ‘Will you come riding tomorrow morning?’

  ‘Well, yes, I should like to. The same time?’

  He nodded as he went out of the room.

  Caroline didn’t see him for the rest of that day, but he was waiting for her when she went downstairs the next morning. The weather was being kind, cold and windy but dry, and the skies were clear. She acquitted herself very well, although Radinck had very little to say as they rode across the fields and after a few remarks about Queenie and a request that she should be ready that evening by half past six he fell silent. It was when they had returned to the house and were crossing the hall that he observed that he would be unable to get home for lunch. He spoke in his usual austere way, but she thought that she detected regret and her spirits rose.

  They stayed that way too. The morning filled with her visit to see Marta, a solemn consultation with Juffrouw Kropp about the renewal of some kitchen equipment, a visit to Queenie, now looking almost plump, and an hour at the piano. And the afternoon went quickly too. By half past five Caroline was upstairs in her room trying out different hairstyles and making up her face. In the end she toned down the make-up and decided to keep to her usual hairstyle, partly because she was afraid that if she attempted anything else it would disintegrate halfway through the evening. The pink jersey dress was entirely satisfactory, though. She gave a final long look in the pier glass, and went down to the sitting-room.

  It wasn’t quite half past six and she hadn’t expected Radinck to be waiting for her, but he was, in an elegant dark suit, looking as though he hadn’t just done a day’s work at the hospital, only sat about in idleness. Caroline wondered how he did it. He allowed himself very little recreation. One day, she thought with real terror, he would have a coronary…

  He got up as she went in, took her coat from her and held it while she got into it and they went out together. Beyond greeting her he had said nothing and nor had she, but once on the sweep she was surprised into exclaiming: ‘But where’s the Aston Martin?’

  There was another car standing there and she went closer to see what it was. A Panther de Ville; she had only seen one or two before. Now she admired the elegance and choked over its price. She hadn’t quite believed Radinck when he had said that he was rich, now she decided that she had been mistaken. Only someone with a great deal of money could afford to buy, let alone run such a motor car. ‘What a lovely car,’ she said faintly. ‘Is it yours?’

  ‘Yes.’ He opened the door and she got in, cudgelling her brains to find some way of making him say more than yes or no. She was still worrying about it as he drove off and since he had very little to say during the brief journey, she had time to worry some more. Perhaps it was a good thing when they arrived and she had to empty her head of worries and respond to the friendly welcome from Tiele and his wife.

  Rebecca, Caro was relieved to see, wasn’t pretty; beautifully made up, exquisitely dressed, but not pretty, although it was apparent at once that her husband considered her the most beautiful woman in the world.

  They took to each other at once and Caro was borne away to see the new baby before they had drinks. ‘A darling,’ declared Caro, and meant it.

  ‘Yes, he is,’ agreed his doting mother, ‘but he keeps us busy, I can tell you, although we’ve got a marvellous nanny.’ She giggled enchantingly. ‘The poor dear doesn’t get a look in!’ She tucked an arm into Caro’s as they went down the stairs. ‘Tiele’s a splendid father—he’s a nice husband too. Radinck’s a dear, isn’t he? And that’s a silly question!’ They had reached the drawing-room and she laughingly repeated her remark to the men. ‘As though Caro’s going to admit anything!’ she declared. Caro was glad to see that Radinck laughed too, although he didn’t look at her, which was a good thing because she had got rather pink in the face.

  There seemed to be a great deal to talk about and she found herself listening to Radinck’s voice, warm and friendly, teasing Becky, exchanging views with Tiele, including her punctiliously in the talk so that they gave what she hoped was a splendid impression of a happily married couple. She was sorry to leave, but since they were to see each other again at the burgermeester’s reception, she was able to echo her husband’s ‘Tot ziens’cheerfully enough. But he showed no inclination to discuss their evening, indeed he didn’t speak until they were almost halfway home.

  ‘You enjoyed your evening?’ he asked her. ‘You liked Becky?’

  ‘Very much; she’s sweet, and such a darling little baby.’

  Her husband grunted and she wished she hadn’t said that; she hurried on to cover the little silence: ‘It’s nice that we shall see each other at the reception.’

  ‘Yes. You will also meet a number of my friends there. You answered the invitations?’

  ‘Yes, and three more came with the afternoon post.’

  ‘Will you leave them on the hall table? I’ll make sure they’re friends and not just acquaintances.’

  ‘You’re not coming in before you go—wherever you’re going?’

  ‘I have no time.’ She couldn’t help but notice how cold his voice had become. She sighed very softly and didn’t speak again until they reached the house, when she said hurriedly: ‘No, don’t get out, Radinck, I’m sure you’re pressed for time.’

  She jumped out of the car and ran up the steps where the watchful Noakes was already standing by the open door. ‘We’ll ride in the morning?’ Radinck called after her. Caroline had been afraid he wasn’t going to say that, so, careful not to sound eager, she said over her shoulder: ‘I’ll see you then,’ and ran indoors.

  She saw him much sooner than that, though. Left alone, she had whipped down to the stables to see how Queenie was, gone round the outside of the house with Rex, who was feeling hurt because Radinck had gone without him, had her dinner, conducted her choir and then gone upstairs to bed. She had been there two hours or more sitting up against her pillows reviewing her evening when she heard Queenie’s voice—not loud, not nearly loud enough to rouse everyone else in the house, with their rooms right on the other side. Nor would Willem hear her, living as he did in a small cottage on the estate boundary with his mother. The noise came again and Caro got out of bed, put on her quilted dressing gown, whipped a pair of boots from the closet, and crept through the house. Radinck wasn’t in and she had no idea when he would return. She could take a look at Queenie and if things weren’t going right,
she could get a message to Willem or old Jan, who would know what to do, and if necessary she could get Mijnheer Stagsma.

  She let herself out of the side door nearest the stables, into the very cold, clear night, and, glad of her boots but wishing she had put on something thicker than a dressing gown, made her way to the yard. There was a light in the barn. She switched it on and went to peer at the donkey. Queenie looked back at her with gentle eyes. She was lying down on her bed of straw and even to Caro, who didn’t know much about it, it was obvious that she was about to produce her foal. But whether she was in need of help was another thing. She might have been calling for company; after all, it was a lonely business, giving birth.

  Caro knelt down by Queenie’s head and rubbed the long furry ears; for the moment she wasn’t sure what to do. ‘I’ll wait just for a few minutes,’ she told Queenie, ‘and if something doesn’t start to happen by then I’ll go and get help. It’s a pity that Radinck isn’t here, but even if he were, I wouldn’t like to bother him. You see, Queenie, he doesn’t…’Her soft voice spiralled into a small shriek as her husband spoke from the dimness of the door.

  ‘I saw the light—it’s Queenie, isn’t it?’ He came and stood beside the pair of them, and it was difficult to see his face clearly. Caroline nodded, her heart still thumping with fright, and he took off his car coat and his jacket, rolled up his shirt sleeves and knelt down to take a closer look at the donkey. ‘Any minute now,’ he pronounced. ‘Everything looks fine. How long have you been here?’

  ‘Ten minutes, perhaps a little longer.’

  ‘Did she wake you up?’

  She answered without much thought. ‘No—I hadn’t been to sleep.’

  He had his head bent. ‘It’s almost two o’clock.’ He turned to look at her then, a slow look taking in her tousled hair and the dressing gown. ‘My dear good girl, it’s winter! You should have put on something warmer than that.’

  ‘I am wearing my boots,’ Caro declared as though that was a sufficient answer, and added: ‘I didn’t want to waste time in case Queenie was ill.’