The Final Touch Read online

  Jolly came to tell them that dinner was served and they sat down at the table, this time with her beside him, so that they could go on talking while they ate the delicious dinner which Mrs Jolly had cooked. Afterwards in the drawing-room, while they had their coffee, he observed, ‘I think that we will spend the day with my family tomorrow.’

  Charity put the delicate porcelain cup carefully into its saucer. ‘Here in Amsterdam?’

  ‘No. In the north, Friesland—I am from Friesland; my family have lived there for a long time. They will all be there to meet you and make you welcome, all save Lucia in Edinburgh. When I can snatch a weekend we will go and see her too.’

  ‘I—I hope your family will like me, I mean it must be a bit sudden for them to have…that is, did they know that you were going to marry me?’

  ‘Indeed they did, and approved it.’ He gave her a placid smile. ‘You looked charming today; wear that blue thing tomorrow so that they can see how you looked as a bride.’

  She seized on what mattered most. ‘You like it? I’m glad, but I don’t need to wear the hat, do I?’

  The twinkle in his eyes belied his calm, ‘Oh, no—we shall be in the car all the time—take a scarf or something to tie round your head if we should go out of doors. It is rather more north than Amsterdam, and colder.’

  She longed to ask him about his family and his home, but she couldn’t think how to start, which was a good thing for he had no more to say about it but began to talk about the children.

  ‘They are happy at school and will be even happier now that they have you to come home to, but don’t feel that you must spend all your days with them; Mrs Jolly and Nel are both reliable and devoted. It would be nice though if you would get them fitted out with some pretty dresses and so on. Miss Bloom was an excellent woman but her ideas about small girls’ clothes were a little old-fashioned. They looked very nice today; one or two pretty dresses might not come amiss. Get whatever you want for yourself. Now that I have a wife we must entertain a little and we shall get asked out from time to time. We will go into finances when we are at the bank.’

  ‘Thank you, Tyco. I haven’t many clothes and I don’t think they’re quite suitable for a—a consultant’s wife.’

  ‘Well, go ahead with your shopping. The children go back to school in two days’ time; they come home for lunch from noon until one o’clock.’

  ‘Do I take them to school and fetch them?’

  ‘If you can do so without disturbing your day—Nel can always take them or fetch them if you are busy.’

  ‘I’d like to go with them.’

  ‘They will like that; the other children have mothers and that is something they have missed.’

  They talked comfortably about nothing much after that and presently Charity said that she would go to bed, a little chagrined at the smartness with which he rose from his chair to open the door. She must remember not to take up too much of his time; start some knitting or embroidery so that if he wanted to read he could do so without feeling that he should talk to her. She said goodnight in her quiet voice and he put a large hand on her shoulder. ‘Goodnight, Charity. We are going to be happy together, you know.’

  She wished she felt as certain of that as he had sounded.

  They set off directly after breakfast the next morning, the little girls in the back with Samson, all three of them in the best of spirits and Charity sitting beside Tyco.

  It was a fast drive for most of the way, he had told her, for once they were free of Amsterdam’s outskirts there was the autosnelweg—the motorway—as far as the Afsluitdijk. It was a mere twelve miles to Leeuwarden from there and half an hour’s drive south of the city to his home.

  They stopped at a hotel for coffee a few miles before they reached the Afsluitdijk and then raced along it, the enclosed Ijsselmeer on one side, grey and cold under a winter sky, and the high sea dike on the other side shutting out the Waddenzee. They were almost across before she saw Friesland looming up in the distance and then they were on land again, with the signposts written in Fries as well as Dutch.

  Tyco slowed through a small town. ‘Harlingen,’ he told her briefly and then, after a few more miles, ‘Franeker—a lovely little town—we’ll show it to you one day.’

  Then they were weaving their way through Leeuwarden and out of it again, going south now into the country. Flat wide fields, narrow canals, farms with huge barns at their backs and presently a glimpse of grey water.

  They were on a narrow road now and there had been no village for some miles but presently she saw a church ahead of them with a ring of red-roofed houses around it and leafless trees beyond. ‘Rengerwoude,’ said Tyco, and she heard the warmth in his voice.

  ‘We’re here,’ shouted the children, ‘we’re almost here, look, Charity, do look…’

  She looked, seeing the road ahead sweep round the church and away again and now there was a high wall on one side of the road and then a wide gateway, its wrought-iron gates thrown back. She hadn’t known what to expect, certainly not the large square house at the end of the drive with its pointed roof and orderly row of windows overlooking what seemed to her to be more of a small park than a garden.

  Tyco drew up before a flight of steps leading to a massive door. ‘You may get out, liefjes, but carefully.’ He got out too, saw them safely on to the raked gravel, and opened Charity’s door, Samson at his heels.

  ‘Welcome to our home, my dear.’ He took her hand and they all crossed the drive and started up the steps. The door was thrown open before they reached it by an old man, white-haired but erect, who shook Tyco’s hand, submitted to hugs from the little girls and, introduced as Bas, shook Charity’s hand. His, ’Welkom, mevrouw,’ took her by surprise; she hadn’t got used to the idea of being mevrouw, but it was warm and his smile was fatherly. She took heart from it as they followed the children into the square hall to be immediately engulfed by a wave of people who surged from double doors to one side.

  Tyco had her hand fast in his and she found herself facing an elderly man who could only be his father and a short plump lady with bright blue eyes in a plain face. The face was kind and wore a beaming smile and Charity smiled back widely, aware of relief; she had steeled herself to meet a majestic Dutch matron who would look at her as though she were not good enough for her son and here was a dear little lady, kissing her cheek and speaking in English as good as her own.

  ‘My dear, welcome to the family—such a lot of us, I’m afraid, but all so anxious to meet you. You didn’t mind that we were not at your wedding? Tyco wanted it to be very quiet—just the ceremony, you know, but now we shall celebrate, all of us together.’

  She handed her over to Tyco’s father and Tyco kissed his mother and then became surrounded by his family. His father was as nice as his mother, thought Charity, an elderly version of his son, and suddenly she felt happy to be one of such a large family.

  They swarmed round her now, Reka and Fenna, tall good-looking young women, and Illand and Loek, a good deal younger than Tyco and almost as large, shaking her hand, kissing her, saying how glad they were to meet her, and all the while Letizia and Teile were darting round as well as Samson and two Labradors. She felt her arm gently taken.

  ‘Reka is thirty-four,’ said Tyco half laughing. ‘She is married; her husband will come presently with her children—two, a boy and a girl. They live in Leeuwarden. Fenna is twenty-four, engaged to a naval officer at sea. Lucia is twenty-one—you know of her. Illand is thirty-six, married with four children, and his wife with them will join us for lunch. Loek is twenty-eight and a bachelor; he is at Leiden—a doctor too. Illand lives in Bolsward, and he is a solicitor; no one will mind if you get them mixed up.’

  She was passed from one to the other, drinking coffee and biting at little buttery biscuits until she was borne away with the children to take
off her jacket and tidy herself.

  The house was very large; vast doors opened from the hall and at the head of a massive staircase there were passages leading in all directions from the gallery. She was led to a bedroom furnished with mahogany and very beautiful brocade where she sat down before the triple looking-glass and did her face and tidied her already tidy hair under the friendly eyes of her new sisters-in-law, the children and a very old lady whom everyone called Nanny. Charity was introduced to her and looked over by two beady black eyes. Nanny nodded her head in a satisfactory way. ‘You’ll do very well,’ she told an astonished Charity. ‘No looks to speak of—but that says nothing—but nice kind eyes and a soft mouth.’

  At Charity’s look of enquiry Reka said, ‘Oh, good, Nanny likes you. She’s been with us forever—nursed Tyco, if you can believe that. Never liked his first wife—nor did we.’ She had spoken softly so that only Charity heard her.

  ‘Oh, I do hope that I’ll do,’ answered Charity fervently.

  They lunched in splendour in a large dining-room at a table seating a score of persons comfortably. The little mushroom pancakes, roast duckling with cherry sauce, a variety of vegetables, followed by a chocolate pudding which melted in the mouth, was every bit as good as the meals Mrs Jolly presented. Charity, sitting by Tyco, contrived to glance around her during the meal. The furniture was heavy and dark and massive and the walls above the panelling almost concealed by heavily framed paintings. There was an enormous chandelier above their heads and a thick carpet on the polished floor. She reflected that if she had had even an inkling of the lifestyle Tyco enjoyed she would have thought twice about marrying him. Then she would never have seen him again nor his delightful children and equally delightful family. He put a hand over hers as it lay on the table and turned to smile at her and she thought in a muddled way that she would have married him whatever he was.

  They all went walking in the park around the house after lunch, well wrapped up against the cold wind, Mevrouw van der Brons in a voluminous cloak and Charity bundled into a hooded coat several sizes too large for her, and when they got back indoors it was to find tea waiting for them round the roaring fire in the drawing-room and once again Charity was passed from one to the other, getting to know Reka’s husband and children and Illand’s wife and family. She supposed that in time she would be able to tell them all apart.

  They left after tea, for the weather was worsening and it was already a deep dusk. Everyone crowded into the hall to say goodbye and when Tyco’s mother kissed her she pressed a small box into her hand. ‘A wedding present to my new daughter,’ she said and kissed her again. ‘You will be happy together and the children love you.’

  Mrs Jolly, on her mettle, presented them with a delicious dinner when they got home and the four of them had it together before Charity, mindful of her new status, saw the two little girls off to bed, tucked them up and went downstairs to tell Tyco that they were waiting to say goodnight to him. He wasn’t in the drawing-room; she peeped into the dining-room, the small sitting-room, and then tapped on the study door and went in. He was on the phone and looked up frowning as she went in so that she said hesitantly, ‘I don’t mean to disturb you, but Letizia and Teile are waiting for you to say goodnight.’

  He held the phone in his hand. ‘I’ll be up in a minute,’ he said, wanting her to go away so obviously that she went without a word.

  There were books in the small sitting-room; she wandered in there and chose one, taking her time, feeling uncertain. Presently he found her there. ‘Come into the drawing-room for an hour?’ he asked her. ‘We have seen very little of each other all day; it will be pleasant to talk quietly.’

  It was indeed pleasant to mull over the day, sitting opposite him with Samson at his feet and Mrs Jolly’s elderly cat Crispin curled up on her lap. Yet she still went to bed presently none the wiser about the man she had married. He had been kind and courteous, putting her at her ease while at the same time telling her nothing of himself.

  Patience, she told herself, before she slept and closed her eyes on her own sound advice.

  Breakfast was early; the children had to be at school by eight o’clock and Tyco left shortly after that. Charity took them to the school gates, led enthusiastically by the pair of them. She kissed them goodbye, reminded them that Nel would fetch them at noon since she was to meet their father for lunch, and hurried back to the house. It was a cold day and she had worn her winter coat and little cap and known that they didn’t match up to the elegance of the other mothers escorting their children. Tyco had said that she must go shopping and her head was full of ways and means as she reached the house. Jolly opened the door to her with a note in his hand. ‘The professor asked me to give you this, mevrouw. There is a nice fire in the little parlour, and I will bring coffee at ten o’clock if that suits you.’

  The note was brief to the point of terseness. ‘I will fetch you at noon or shortly after. Please be ready.’

  It was a long while until noon; the morning stretched emptily before her or so she thought, but the appearance of Mrs Jolly, anxious to show her around the house, this time peering in cupboards, and inspecting the empty bedrooms thoroughly, not to mention the linen-room and the entire contents of the kitchen and its various store-rooms, filled the emptiness very nicely so that she had to hurry a little in order to be ready for Tyco.

  He came a little after noon and she fancied that he eyed her critically as he kissed her cheek and enquired after her morning. Deeply conscious of her unassuming appearance, she got into the car beside him and, with Samson sitting proudly in the back, they drove to the Herengracht.

  The bank was a large grey building, solidly built and very well appointed. They went at once to the manager’s office and Tyco said, ‘Please excuse us if we speak Dutch now and again. I’ll explain everything later.’

  The manager was a square, bearded man who welcomed them warmly and, after shaking Charity’s hand, embarked on a brisk talk with Tyco.

  Presently Tyco said, ‘Will you sign your name, my dear, so that you can have your cheque-book? Your allowance is waiting for you when you need it and you will get a statement each month.’

  So she did as she was asked and took the cheque-book without looking inside, although she was dying of curiosity. Only in the car once more, sitting beside Tyco, did she venture to peer inside it at the opening statement folded there.

  ‘There’s a mistake,’ she told him with a gasp. ‘It’s more than I have ever earned in a year—I can’t possibly spend it all in a year…’

  ‘That is your quarterly allowance, Charity, just for your own use. The children have their own cheque-book—remind me to let you have it. You will need clothes.’ His eyes swept briefly over her person. ‘You always look nice but I should like my wife to be in the fashion—buy all the clothes you need and if you run out of money, say so.’

  ‘If you don’t mind me asking, have you a lot of money?’

  He turned to look at her. ‘Yes, a great deal, Charity. Perhaps I should have mentioned it.’ He sounded placid and his smile was kind.

  ‘No—no, of course not. I don’t wish to be inquisitive.’ She added with a kind of childish glee, ‘I’ve never had so much money before.’

  He started the car and drove to Dikker en Thijs, an elegant restaurant on the Prinsengracht, where he gave her lunch.

  ‘Shall you go shopping this afternoon?’ he wanted to know.

  ‘Well, I’ll look around; perhaps I should go to a hairdresser’s first.’

  ‘Do not, I beg of you, alter your hairstyle in any way; it’s very nice as it is, soft and mousy. I should much prefer you to look as you always look, but buy all the clothes you want by all means. I rather think that within a few weeks we shall receive a number of invitations for dinner—my colleagues’ wives will call at teatime and later on there will be the hospital bal
l.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘I am sorry that I can’t stay with you but I’ve a list this afternoon. Nel is taking the children back? Good.’

  ‘Yes, but I shall fetch them at four o’clock—I said that I would.’

  ‘I’ll drop you off at the P.C. Hoofstraat; it is full of little dress shops. Reka and Fenna both go there.’

  She watched him drive away before she started walking down the street, looking in the boutique windows as she went. It occurred to her that he had been very helpful, giving her some idea of the clothes she would need, telling her where to buy them. He was so kind and thoughtful; she would try to repay him by being exactly the wife he wanted.

  Within minutes she had seen something she was going to buy. A top coat of superfine wool in hunter’s green, beautifully cut and, she felt sure, her size.

  It was, and so was a tweed suit, green and brown with a cashmere sweater to go with it… Charity embarked on that most pleasant of occupations, buying clothes without looking at the price tags first.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHARITY, wearing the new coat and a chic little felt hat to match it, left the boutique with the promise that the suit and the coat she had been wearing would be delivered within the hour. It had been gratifying to see that Tyco was known; indeed, the saleslady begged her to return at any time. ‘Madam has a charming figure,’ she enthused, ‘and we shall be having our spring stock very shortly.’

  I mustn’t let this go to my head, reflected Charity, going from one elegant little window to the next, and before long she had bought soft leather boots, elegant shoes and two handbags and here again they would be delivered that afternoon, which left her free to search for a dress or two. A jersey three-piece in old rose caught her eye and became hers; so did a fine wool dress in a rich tawny colour. By then time was running out but there was always tomorrow, she thought happily, summoning a taxi with all the aplomb of an assured young matron.