Dearest Eulalia Read online

  ‘Delicious coffee,’ he observed, ‘and I was delighted to meet the Colonel.’

  Eulalia got up and turned round to face him. ‘Thank you for bringing down the tray. This is Jane, our housekeeper and friend.’

  He crossed the room and shook hands with her and smiled his slow smile so that she lost her elderly heart to him.

  ‘Miss Lally’s just going to do the shopping,’ she told him.

  ‘Perhaps I may be allowed to carry the basket?’

  And very much to her surprise Eulalia found herself walking out of the house with him and down a narrow side street where there was a row of small shops, old-fashioned and tucked discreetly behind the rather grand houses.

  She asked, ‘Don’t you have to go back to the hospital? I mean, this is kind of you but you don’t have to.’

  ‘It’s more or less on my way,’ said Mr van der Leurs, and since she was too polite to ask where he was going and he had no intention of telling her she made polite small talk until they reached the shops.

  The grocer’s was small and rather dark but he sold everything. Mr van der Leurs, without appearing to do so, noted that she bought Earl Grey, the finest coffee beans, Bath Olivers, farm butter, Brie and Port Salut cheese, Cooper’s marmalade and a few slices of the finest bacon; and, these bought, she added cheap tea bags, a tin of instant coffee, a butter substitute, sugar and flour and streaky bacon.

  It was the same at the butcher’s, where she bought lamb cutlets, a chicken breast, lamb’s kidneys and then minced beef and some sausages. He hadn’t gone into the shop with her but had stood outside, apparently studying the contents of the window. At the greengrocer’s he followed her in to take the basket while she bought potatoes and a cabbage, celery, carrots and a bunch of grapes.

  ‘We make our own bread,’ said Eulalia, bypassing the baker.

  Mr van der Leurs, keeping his thoughts to himself, made light-hearted conversation as they returned to the house. It was evident to him that living was on two levels in the Colonel’s house, which made it a sensible reason for him to marry her as quickly as possible. There were, of course, other reasons, but those, like his thoughts, he kept to himself.

  At the house he didn’t go in but as he handed over the basket he said, ‘Will you have lunch with me tomorrow? We might drive out into the country. I find the weekends lonely.’

  It was a good thing that his numerous friends in London hadn’t heard him say that. He had sounded very matter-of-fact about it, which somehow made her feel sorry for him. A stranger in a foreign land, thought Eulalia, ignoring the absurd idea; he seemed perfectly at home in London and his English was as good as her own.

  ‘Thank you, I should like that.’

  ‘I’ll call for you about eleven o’clock.’ He smiled at her. ‘Goodbye, Eulalia.’

  * * *

  Jane thought it was a splendid idea. ‘Time you had a bit of fun,’ she observed, ‘and a good meal out somewhere posh.’

  ‘It will probably be in a pub,’ answered Eulalia.

  She told her grandfather when she carried up his lunch.

  ‘Splendid, my dear; he’s a sound chap, just like his father was. I’ve asked him to come and see me again. He tells me he is frequently in England although he has his home in Holland.’

  Eulalia, getting the tea later while Jane had a rest, spent an agreeable hour deciding what she would wear. It was nearing the end of October but the fine weather had held although it was crisply cold morning and evening. She decided on a short jacket, a pleated skirt and a silk jersey top, all of them old but because they had been expensive and well cut they presented an elegant whole. He had said that they would drive into the country, which might mean a pub lunch, but if it were to be somewhere grander she would pass muster…

  When he called for her he was wearing beautifully cut tweeds, by no means new but bearing the hallmark of a master tailor, and his polished shoes were handmade. Even to an untutored eye he looked exactly what he was—a man of good taste and with the means to indulge it. Moreover, reflected Eulalia happily, her own outfit matched his.

  He went to see her grandfather, to spend ten minutes with him and give him a book they had been discussing, and then stopped to talk to Jane, who was hovering in the hall, before he swept Eulalia out of the house and into the dark grey Bentley parked on the kerb.

  ‘Is this yours?’ asked Eulalia.

  ‘Yes. I need to get around when I’m over here.’ He glanced at her. ‘Comfortable? Warm enough? It’s a lovely morning but there’s a nip in the air.’

  He took the M4 out of London and turned off at Maidenhead. ‘I thought the Cotswolds? We could lunch at Woodstock and drive on from there. A charming part of England, isn’t it? You don’t need to hurry back?’

  ‘No. Jane likes to go to Evensong but I expect we shall be back long before then. Do you know this part of England well?’

  ‘Not as well as I should like but each time I come here I explore a little more.’

  He had turned off the A423 and was driving along country roads, through small villages and the quiet countryside to stop presently at North Stoke, a village by the Thames where they had coffee at a quiet pub. He talked quietly as he drove, undemanding, a placid flow of nothing much. By the time they reached Woodstock, Eulalia was wishing the day would go on for ever.

  The Feathers was warm and welcoming, with a pleasant bar and a charming restaurant. Eulalia, invited to choose her lunch, gulped at the prices and then, urged by her companion, decided on lobster patties and then a traditional Sunday lunch—roast beef, Yorkshire pudding, roast potatoes, vegetables…and after that a trifle to put to shame any other trifle. Eulalia finally sighed with repletion and poured the coffee.

  ‘What a heavenly meal,’ she observed. ‘I shall remember it for years.’

  ‘Good. The Cotswolds are at their best in the autumn, I think.’

  He drove to Shipton-under-Wychwood, on to Stow-on-the-Wold and then Bourton-on-the-Water where he obligingly stopped for a while so that she might enjoy its charm and the little river running through the village. At Burford he stopped for tea at a hotel in its steep main street, a warm and cosy place where they sat in a pleasant room by the fire and ate toasted teacakes oozing butter and drank the finest Assam tea.

  ‘This is bliss,’ said Eulalia, mopping a buttery mouth. She smiled at him across the little table. ‘I’ve had a heavenly day. Now we have to go back, don’t we?’

  ‘I’m afraid so. I’ll settle up and see you at the car.’

  Eulalia, powdering her beautiful nose, made a face at her reflection.

  This has been a treat, she told herself. It isn’t likely to happen again and so I mustn’t like him too much. Even if I were to meet him at St Chad’s it wouldn’t be the same; he might not even recognise me. He’ll go back to Holland and forget me.

  It was already getting dusk and this time Mr van der Leurs took the main roads, travelling at a steady fast pace while they carried on an easy flow of small talk. But for all that, thought Eulalia as they were once more enclosed by the city’s suburbs, she still knew almost nothing about him. Not that that mattered since she was unlikely to see him again. She hadn’t asked him when he was going back to Holland but she supposed that it would be soon.

  At the house, he came in with her. They were met by Jane in the hall.

  ‘You’ll have had your tea, but the kettle’s boiling if you’d like another cup. The Colonel’s nicely settled until supper time. I’m off to church.’

  She smiled at them both. ‘You’ve had a nice day?’

  ‘Oh, Jane, it was heavenly.’

  ‘I thought it might be. I’ll get my hat and coat.’

  ‘I don’t suppose you want more tea?’ Eulalia asked Aderik.

  ‘I’d love a cup. While you are getting it may I have five minutes with the Colonel?’

  ‘He’d like that. Do you want me to come up with you?’

  ‘No, no. I know my way. I won’t stay more than a few minutes.’r />
  He went up the staircase, tapped on the Colonel’s door and, bidden to enter, did so.

  The Colonel was sitting in his chair doing a jigsaw puzzle but he pushed it to one side when Mr van der Leurs went in.

  ‘Aderik. You had a pleasant day? Where did you go?’

  Mr van der Leurs sat down beside him and gave him a succinct account of the day.

  ‘You found Lally good company? She goes out so seldom. Never complains but it’s no life for a girl. I do wonder what will happen to her when I am no longer here. She can’t stay here—the place has to go to a nephew. A good chap but married with children.’

  ‘Perhaps I can put your mind at rest about that, sir. I intend to marry Eulalia.’

  The Colonel stared at him and then slowly smiled. ‘Not wasted much time, have you?’

  ‘I’m thirty-eight. Those years have been wasted romantically. I fell in love with her when I first saw her at St Chad’s a day or two ago. I see no reason to waste any more time. You have no objection?’

  ‘Good Lord, no. And your father would have liked her, as I’m sure your mother will.’He paused to think. ‘She has no idea of your intentions?’

  ‘None.’

  ‘Well, I’m sure you know how you intend to go about that. You have lifted a load off my mind, Aderik. She’s a dear girl and she has a loving heart.’

  Mr van der Leurs got up and the Colonel offered a hand. ‘You’ll stay for supper?’

  ‘No. I think not; enough is as good as a feast. Is that not so?’

  The colonel rumbled with laughter. ‘You’re very like your father. Goodnight, my boy.’

  * * *

  Eulalia was in the kitchen. She and Jane were to have jacket potatoes for their supper but it was hardly a dish to offer to a guest. She hadn’t asked him to stay to supper but she expected him to. She made the tea and when he entered the kitchen gave him a worried look.

  ‘Shall we have tea here? Would you like to stay for supper?’ She didn’t sound at all eager and he hid a smile.

  ‘Thank you but I mustn’t stay. I’ve an appointment this evening. Tea would be fine.’

  He drank his tea, waved aside her thanks for her day out, bade her a brisk goodbye and drove himself away. Eulalia shut the door as the Bentley slipped away, feeling hurt and a little peevish. He could at least have waved; it was almost as if he couldn’t get away fast enough.

  She poured herself another cup of tea. Of course he might be late for his appointment—with a girl? She allowed her imagination to run riot and then told herself sternly to stop being a fool. He was almost a stranger; she had only met him a couple of times; she knew nothing about him… So why was it that she felt so at ease with him, as though she had known him all her life?

  If she had hoped to see him at the hospital the next day, she was disappointed. Her journeys into the hospital proper were limited to her visits to the supply department, the general office for requisitioning something for the canteen or taking money from the canteen at the end of the day to one of the clerical staff to lock away, but those trips took her nowhere near the wards and, since she had no idea as to what he actually did, even if she had the opportunity she had no idea where to look for him.

  Filling rolls with cheese as the first of the day’s patients began to surge in, she told herself to forget him.

  Since it was the haematology outpatients clinic the benches were filling up fast. She recognised several of the patients as she poured tea and offered rolls. Anaemia in its many guises took a long time to cure, and if not to cure at least to check for as long as possible…

  The clinic was due to start at any moment. She glanced towards the end of the waiting room to the row of consulting rooms and almost dropped the teapot she was filling. Mr van der Leurs, enormous in a white coat, was going into the first room, flanked by two young doctors and a nurse.

  ‘But he’s a mister,’ said Eulalia to the teapot. ‘A surgeon, so why is he at this clinic?’ She had picked up quite a bit of knowledge since she had been working at St Chad’s, not all of it accurate but she was sure that haematology was a medical field. He had disappeared, of course, and he wouldn’t have seen her.

  In this she was mistaken.

  When the clinic was finally over she was at the back of the canteen getting ready for the afternoon’s work and didn’t see him leave.

  It was six o’clock by the time she had closed the canteen, checked the takings and locked up. She got into her coat, picked up the bag of money and went through to the hospital. The clerk on night duty would lock it away and she would be free to go home. It was a pity that she had seen Mr van der Leurs again, she reflected. It had unsettled her.

  She handed over the money and made for the main door. With any luck she wouldn’t have to wait too long for a bus and the rush hour was over.

  She pushed open the swing doors and walked full tilt into Mr van der Leurs.

  He said easily, ‘Ah, Eulalia, I was on my way to look for you. I have a book for your grandfather and I wondered if you would like a lift?’

  She said slowly, ‘I saw you in Outpatients this morning. I thought you were a surgeon—Mr, you know?’

  He had taken her arm and was leading her to where the Bentley was parked.

  ‘I am a surgeon, but I do a good deal of bone marrow transplanting and I had been asked to take a look at several patients who might benefit from that.’

  He popped her into the car, got in beside her and drove away.

  Eulalia said, ‘Oh, I see,’ which wasn’t very adequate as a reply but it was all she could think of, and she answered his casual enquiry as to her day just as briefly; she hadn’t expected to see him again and it had taken her by surprise.

  He went straight up to the Colonel’s room when they reached the house and when he came down again after ten minutes or so she was in the hall. There wasn’t a fire in the drawing room. If he accepted her offer of coffee he would have to drink it in the kitchen; the drawing room would be icy…

  He refused her offer. ‘I’m leaving for Holland in the morning,’ he told her, then he smiled down at her, shook her hand, and was gone.

  CHAPTER TWO

  JANE came to the kitchen door. ‘Gone, has he? Well, it was shepherd’s pie for supper; I doubt if he would have fancied that. I’ll get a tin of salmon in the house; if he comes again, unexpected, like, I can make fishcakes.’

  Eulalia said quietly, ‘No need, Jane; he’s going back to Holland in the morning.’

  ‘You’ll miss him…’

  ‘I don’t really know him, but yes, I shall miss him.’

  Which was exactly what Mr van der Leurs had hoped for.

  * * *

  She was pouring tea for the thirsty queue towards the end of Thursday’s afternoon clinic when she looked up and saw him. She put the teapot down with a thump and hoped that she didn’t look as pleased as she felt; he had, after all, bidden her goodbye without a backward glance…

  The queue parted for him to watch and listen with interest.

  ‘I’ll be outside the entrance,’ he told her, smiled impartially at the queue and went on his way.

  “E was ‘ere last week,’ said a voice. ‘Looking at my Jimmy—ever so nice ‘e was, too.’

  ‘A friend of yours, miss?’ asked another voice.

  ‘An acquaintance,’ said Eulalia in a voice which forbade confidences of any sort, her colour somewhat heightened. The queue dissolved, the last few patients were called, she began to clear up, and presently, the hall empty, Sue and Polly gone, she closed down for the day.

  The clerk kept her talking when she took the money to the office. He was an elderly man and night duty was a lonely job and she was too kind and polite to show impatience while he talked. Perhaps Mr van der Leurs would think that she didn’t intend to meet him. She hadn’t said that she would, had she? And if it had been a casual offer made on the spur of the moment, he might not wait.

  He was there, leaning against the Bentley’s bonnet, oblivious
of the chilly evening. He opened the door for her as she reached him and got in beside her.

  ‘Could we go somewhere for a cup of coffee? I haven’t much time…’

  ‘You can have coffee at home—’ began Eulalia, and was cut short by his curt,

  ‘There’s a café in the Fulham Road; that is the quickest way.’

  She said tartly, ‘If you are so pressed for time you had no need to give me a lift.’

  He didn’t answer but drove through the city. The café he ushered her into was small and half empty. He sat her down at a table away from the other customers, ordered coffee and observed in a matter-of-fact voice, ‘This isn’t quite what I intended but it will have to do. I got held up.’

  The coffee came and Eulalia took a sip. ‘I thought you were in Holland.’

  ‘I was; I came over on the fast ferry this afternoon. I must go back on the ferry from Dover in a couple of hours’ time.’

  ‘You mean you’re only here for an hour or two? Whatever for?’

  ‘I wanted to see you and as I’m going to be away for a few days…’

  ‘But you could have seen me at home or at the hospital.’

  ‘Don’t interrupt, Eulalia; there isn’t time. It is enough to say that I wanted to see you alone.’

  He smiled then and sat back, quite at his ease. ‘Will you marry me, Eulalia?’

  She opened her pretty mouth and closed it again and stared at him, sitting there asking her to marry him in a manner one would use to ask for the sugar.

  ‘No,’ said Eulalia.

  He didn’t look in the least put out. ‘There are a dozen reasons why you should say no. Perhaps you will think about them while I’m away and when I see you again we can discuss them.’ He smiled at her. ‘I shall see you again, you know, and next time we can talk at our leisure. Now I’m afraid I must take you home.’

  Eulalia could think of nothing to say; she tried out several sensible remarks to make in her head but didn’t utter them. She could, of course, tell him that she didn’t want to see him again but somehow she didn’t say so. Later she would think of all kinds of clever replies to make but he wouldn’t be there to hear them. And she musn’t see him again.