Discovering Daisy Page 13

  ‘Did she say why?’

  ‘Heer Friske had a niece who wanted to join his business. It was a short note; I had the impression that it wasn’t the usual kind of letter she would have written. I telephoned Heer Friske. He sounded really sorry that she had gone home, and observed that she had at least seen something of Holland before she went. Helene took her out for the day—perhaps you knew that?’

  ‘Helene told me. She also told me that she had told Daisy that we were to marry very shortly.’

  Mevrouw der Huizma said slowly, ‘And are you, Jules? Going to marry soon?’

  ‘No. It seems that Helene told Daisy that for reasons of her own. She has no wish to marry in the foreseeable future.’

  His mother breathed a hidden sigh of relief. ‘Well, dear, since you are so busy for weeks ahead that might be a good idea.’

  He said harshly, ‘Was Daisy happy? Here in this house with you?’

  ‘Yes, Jules. And a delightful companion. A clever girl, I fancy, able to hold her own in any situation and, to use an old-fashioned word, modest about her knowledge.’

  They began to talk of other things, and Daisy wasn’t mentioned again.

  Jules went back to Amsterdam. He would phone his mother before he went to England, he told her.

  She sat, long after he had gone, thinking about him.

  He was a grown man, capable of running his own life, and had indeed made a success of it. She dared not meddle. He would do what was right, she was sure of that, but at what cost to his happiness? There was always the chance that Helene would release him from his promise, but she had to admit that it was a slim one.

  And she was right; Helene, anxious now that she had lost whatever love Jules had had for her, did everything she could to recapture it. She did it in the only way she knew how; phoning him in the evenings, asking him to join her at some friend’s house for dinner, suggesting that they should drive out into the country and dine at some popular restaurant, go to a play, spend a Sunday at Keukenhof, laughing off his protests that he had no time to spare. So from time to time he spent an evening with her, a pleasant companion listening to her chatter, admiring her dresses. That there was no warmth in his manner didn’t worry her. She was an undemonstrative woman, not capable of loving deeply. She was confident that in time she would be able to arrange their future exactly as she wanted it.

  It was a shock when he told her one evening that he would be going to England in a few days’ time.

  ‘To one of the hospitals?’

  ‘I have two hospitals to visit, yes. I am going to see Daisy.’

  She managed to keep her face composed. ‘Give her my love. I dare say she is getting ready for her wedding. Perhaps you could find time to get her a present from us?’

  ‘I doubt that.’ He began to talk of something else then.

  Daisy, now that summer was here, made the most of her daily walks. In another few weeks her father would need her more often in the shop, and her outings would have to be curtailed, even stopped for the height of the tourist season. She had a little colour in her cheeks now, but she had grown thinner and there were violet shadows under her eyes. But although she was quiet she was unendingly cheerful. That she longed to see Jules was something she kept to herself. She talked readily enough about her stay in Holland but Jules she never mentioned, something her mother had noticed with a troubled heart.

  It was a bright, blustery day when she set out for her usual walk, but the sky was blue, even if overshadowed from time to time by great billowing clouds. She put on a cardigan over the sober dress she wore in the shop, tied a scarf over her neat head, and set out. She was a little later than usual, for her father had asked her to clean and polish a small silver-framed hand mirror; a delicate trifle which, arranged in the window, would draw the attention of passers-by. She would take her usual walk, she decided, go as far as the tumble of rocks at the far end of the beach and then climb the short distance to the coast path and go home along the low cliffs.

  She was halfway to the rocks when she saw someone coming towards her. He had a dog with him, Trigger, who lumbered up to meet her with delighted barks. Daisy stood still. If she could have run away she would have done so, despite the happy beating of her heart at the sight of the vast figure coming so rapidly towards her. But there was nowhere to run…

  He had reached her before she had her breathing under control. She said, inanely, ‘It’s a lovely day.’

  He smiled slowly. ‘The loveliest day of my life.’

  ‘How funny that we’ve met again here on the beach.’

  She bent to pat Trigger, trying to get her self-possession back, wishing she could think of a few sensible remarks to make, casual and rather cool…

  She need not have bothered; he said briskly, ‘It’s such a splendid day for a walk, isn’t it? Are you going as far as the rocks?’

  And when she nodded he said, ‘Then may I join you? I’m over here for a few days and am giving myself a short break between hospitals. How are you liking being back home?’

  He was friendly, with the casual friendliness of an old acquaintance, and Daisy fell into step beside him, torn between delight at seeing him once again and regret that he had shown no great pleasure at meeting her once more. Well, why should he? she asked herself silently, skipping to keep up. He had Helene… To maintain a conversation was essential, so she asked about his work in Africa.

  He told her at some length, knowing that she was interested and listening to what he was saying, now and then making intelligent observations. But presently he said, ‘Now it’s your turn, Daisy. What are your plans for the future?’

  She answered him seriously. ‘Well, it’s funny you should ask—we were talking about it this morning. In fact we’ve talked about it quite a lot lately, but nothing is decided.’

  She didn’t say more than that. Why should he be interested in her plan to get taken on by one of the big firms dealing in antiques so that she might learn even more? She thought that perhaps she had been rather abrupt and added, ‘Of course it would mean father would have to get an assistant.’

  A fragmented and misleading remark which left Mr der Huizma no better informed than he had been. But he was a man of infinite patience and he was here for another two days. He began to talk about nothing in particular in his friendly way, and Daisy, blissfully happy for the moment, threw sticks for Trigger, her face rosy from the wind, uncaring of the tendrils of hair escaping from her scarf. Somehow it didn’t matter how she looked when she was with Jules. And anyway, he wasn’t really looking at her—a quick glance from time to time, that was all.

  They had reached the rocks, and she would have liked nothing better than to climb round them and go on walking, but it would soon be midday and she was to take over the shop that afternoon. She said urgently, ‘I must go back…’

  ‘The morning is quickly over,’ he said easily. They didn’t say much on their way back, and at the corner of the lane he bade her goodbye. She longed to know if he would meet her again, but, Daisy being Daisy, she didn’t say anything, just bade him goodbye in her turn and ran to the shop and went inside without looking back.

  Helping her mother lay the table for their lunch, she reflected that it was a good thing they wouldn’t meet again. Perhaps it would have been better if they hadn’t met this morning, upsetting all her efforts to put him out of her mind…

  ‘Did Mr der Huizma find you?’ asked her father as they sat at table. Daisy, caught unawares, went a bright pink although she sounded composed.

  ‘Yes, Father, it was pleasant seeing him again. He’s here for a day or two…’

  And her mother said, ‘He was so kind to you while you were in Holland…’

  Daisy didn’t want him to be kind; she wanted him to love her…

  She thought about him during the afternoon, waiting patiently while a customer dithered between a Sèvres plate and a Rockingham milk jug. Would he be on the beach tomorrow? she wondered. He had said goodbye without saying tha
t they might meet again. She would take her usual walk, she decided as she wrapped up the milk jug. Their meeting had been by chance, and if he had wanted to see her again he would have said so.

  He was there, waiting at the bottom of the steps on the sea front, Trigger weaving happily to and fro. His good morning was cheerfully friendly as they started off towards the rocks. ‘But I believe we’re in for some bad weather,’ he added.

  She glanced uneasily at the sky. It was clear overhead, but out to sea the clouds were grey and threatening.

  ‘Do you suppose these clouds are coming this way?’

  ‘Yes, I’m afraid so. Perhaps you would rather go home?’

  ‘No. No. I like the rain, only sometimes we get really bad weather here.’

  They were walking side by side, content in each other’s company, and Mr der Huizma looked at her small face, rosy from the wind, and thought how beautiful she was. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘if you don’t mind the rain…’

  The clouds didn’t appear to be moving and the wind had died down; they walked briskly, not saying much. There was still a day left, he reflected, and until then he was determined to remain nothing but a casual friend. But tomorrow he must ask her about the future—this man she was to marry. She wasn’t wearing a ring…

  They were almost at the rocks when he glanced out to sea. The sky had darkened but they hadn’t noticed; now the clouds which had been hovering on the horizon were creeping towards them. His eyes narrowed.

  ‘I’m not sure, but I think there’s bad weather coming fast. We can sit it out among the rocks.’ He whistled to Trigger and took her hand.

  He had explored the rocks several times and knew where to go, between two great outcrops facing inland. Almost there, Daisy stopped to look out to sea. ‘Oh, look,’ she cried. ‘Isn’t that extraordinary…?’

  ‘A whirlwind,’ said Mr der Huizma calmly. ‘Most interesting. But come along now.’He had Trigger on his lead and a vast arm round Daisy.

  They settled with their backs to the rock which encircled them and Daisy asked, ‘Will it last long, the whirlwind?’

  ‘No. A bit noisy and rough, but we’re secure here. I’m sorry; I should have seen it earlier.’

  Daisy, feeling his arm around her, was glad that he hadn’t.

  It grew darker and noisier, and all at once the whirlwind was upon them—and gone again before Daisy had the time to feel frightened. But it was followed by great peals of thunder and flashes of lightning. She had always been frightened of storms; now she buried her face in his shoulder and kept her eyes tight shut.

  She muttered into his Burberry, ‘I’m terrified of storms. So sorry.’

  She was surprised to hear his rumble of laughter, but all he said was, ‘It will soon pass. We’re quite safe here.’

  Positively cosy, reflected Daisy, her head on his shoulder, Trigger’s doggy warmth pressed up against her legs… She swallowed down her fright and thought how happy she was, sitting here hidden from the storm and Jules’s arm holding her close. There was a great deal of him, and he was very solid. This, she thought, was a moment to remember for the rest of her life.

  The whirlwind had passed, the storm was blowing itself out, and the thunder was a rumble in the distance. Jules took his arm away and stood up. It was raining, but there was a clear sky out to sea where the last of the clouds were hurtling away.

  He hauled her to her feet, took her arm and walked her briskly back along the beach, Trigger walking soberly beside them. It was raining still, and the sea was boisterous, but Daisy, happy in her own particular heaven, didn’t notice. Mr der Huizma, looking down at her blissful face, sighed and wished for a miracle. To break his promise to marry Helene wasn’t a thing he would contemplate, but surely there was some way in which she might decide that to marry him was a mistake?

  ‘I’m going back to Holland tomorrow evening,’ he told her as they climbed the steps to the promenade. ‘Could you get a few hours off? We might drive into the country and have lunch?’

  She stood beside him amidst the litter the whirlwind had caused. ‘Well, I usually walk for a bit each morning, but I go to the shop after lunch…’

  ‘Then if I call for you around ten o’clock we could lunch early and have you back in good time.’

  ‘I’d like that—if I could be back here before two o’clock…’

  ‘That’s a promise.’

  He walked with her up the main street and waited at the corner of the lane until she had gone into the shop. She hadn’t looked back.

  For Daisy the rest of the day was endless; she washed her hair, did her nails, pleased in a modest way that she had pretty hands, inspected her face for spots, and went to bed early—but not to sleep immediately.The morning’s events had to be gone over; every word, every smile!

  She saw with pleasure in the morning that the weather was on her side; hardly a cloud, and warm enough for her to wear the jersey dress. She was ready long before ten o’clock, but all the same when she heard the car stop outside she stayed in her room until her mother called her. Mr der Huizma was in the living room, looking very much at home, discussing the weather. His, ‘Good morning, Daisy,’was pleasant, but if her mother was looking for any warmer feeling she was to be disappointed. He was a man who had complete control over his features—an asset in his profession.

  ‘Where are we going?’ asked Daisy as he got into the car beside her.

  ‘Dartmoor. I’ve booked a table at Gidleigh Park, just outside Chagford. They will give us lunch at half past twelve, which gives us plenty of time to get back by two o’clock.’

  He took the road to Two Bridges, and then on to Postbridge, stopping for coffee at a small café there and driving unhurriedly along the narrow roads, pausing to watch the ponies and sheep with their lambs.

  ‘Oh, this is lovely,’ said Daisy as they sat in the car, patiently waiting for a ewe and her lambs to cross the road.

  ‘Would you like to walk for a while?’

  ‘Oh, yes, but is there time?’

  ‘We can spare twenty minutes or so. We can go as far as that tor…’

  The sun was warm and the air fresh; they walked briskly, and after a minute, since the rough grass was awkward to walk on, he took her hand. To Daisy, her fingers curled into his large palm, it seemed the most natural thing in the world to do.

  Gidleigh Park was a hotel close to Chagford, in its own splendid grounds with the North Teign river running through them. It was an elegant place, offering unostentatious luxury and delicious meals. They had a table by one of the windows in the half-filled restaurant; the tables close to them were, as yet, empty. Daisy studied the menu and gulped back shock at the prices. Mr der Huizma, watching her face, said matter-offactly, ‘Shall I choose for you, or is there something you would particularly like?’

  ‘Oh, yes, please, you choose…’ She added with the unselfconsciousness of a child, ‘I’m hungry.’

  ‘Good, so am I. How about spinach tarts, lamb cutlets, and choose our pudding from the trolley?’

  The tarts were delicious, and the cutlets came with new potatoes, baby carrots, petit pois and broccoli.

  ‘Heavenly,’said Daisy, daintily polishing off the last of the carrots.

  The pudding trolley was something to drool over. She chose chocolate mousse laced with brandy and topped with cream, accompanied by small paper-thin biscuits, while Mr der Huizma ate cheese.

  Pouring coffee for them both, she beamed across the table at him.

  ‘I’m having such a glorious day…’

  He took his cup from her. ‘Daisy, I am in love with you, do you know that?’

  She put her coffee cup very carefully back into the saucer. She felt the colour creep into her face but she gave him a direct look.

  ‘I didn’t know, but I had begun to wonder if you were. I’ve tried not to think about it. You’re going to marry Helene—quite soon, she told me.’ She steadied her voice. ‘It’s because we keep meeting unexpectedly, don’t you see? I mean, falli
ng in the canal and being mugged and helping me with the wine cooler and…’ She stared at his quiet face. ‘If you saw me every day you wouldn’t even notice me.’

  When he still didn’t speak she went on desperately, ‘You’re going back to Holland tonight; we shan’t see each other again and you’ll forget me.’

  He said then, ‘And that is what you would like? That I should forget you?’

  When she nodded, he added, ‘Well, it is a most sensible suggestion and, given the circumstances, the right one. We are both of us tied by circumstances, are we not?’

  He smiled at her, looking quite unworried, so that she asked, ‘But we’re still friends?’

  ‘Of course. I can’t imagine that Helene or your future husband could object to that. Especially as our friendship will be of necessity a long distance one.’

  ‘My future husband? I haven’t got one. I mean no one has ever asked me to marry them.’She stared at him.

  A slow smile spread over Mr der Huizma’s handsome features. ‘I was told that you were to marry shortly— some young man here.’

  ‘I don’t know any young men,’ said Daisy. ‘Desmond was the only one, and I can’t even remember what he looked like…’

  She looked at Mr der Huizma and thought that he looked ten years younger all at once.

  ‘There is a great deal that I should like to say,’he told her. ‘But it must wait for the moment. This has been a most illuminating conversation, Daisy.’

  ‘Well, yes, but you do understand about you and me? I’m sure that once you get back toAmsterdam you’ll have so many other things to think about—getting married…’

  ‘Ah, yes. Now that is something about which I must think very seriously.’

  He looked so cheerful, almost smug. Perhaps he was already falling out of love with her—and indeed there was nothing lover-like in his manner. She reflected sadly that his falling in love with her had been a moment’s fantasy. A pity that she couldn’t dismiss her own love for him with the same ease.