Tabitha in Moonlight Page 20

  ‘There’s one thing for sure,’ said Lilith as she went past her. ‘Don’t expect to be the bridesmaid.’

  They went a few minutes later and it was while the farewells were being made that Marius came and stood by Tabitha, waiting by the door.

  ‘What did your stepmother say to you just now?’ he wanted to know. ‘You looked in a fine rage, the place practically burst into flames.’ He frowned. ‘And what secrets did Lilith tell you upstairs?’

  She didn’t smile. ‘It’s of no possible interest to you what my stepmother said, and Lilith has never told me a secret in her life; she isn’t likely to now.’

  She thought he looked relieved, though his voice was silky. ‘I’m glad of that, but make no mistake, Tabitha, it is of interest to me. Perhaps you will feel like telling me when I get back.’

  Tabitha’s temper plucked at her tongue, making it reckless. ‘I shall not. In any case, I daresay we shall all be in bed, and asleep by the time you’re home.’ She turned on her heel, then paused to say through her teeth: ‘I hope you have a lovely day,’ and was furious when he laughed.

  He was back before tea. They were all at the harbour’s edge watching a rather splendid Norwegian yacht edging its way out into the lake, and it was Tabitha who turned at the soft sigh of the Bentley stopping behind them. She stared at Marius’s face as he got out of the car to try and read from it how his day had gone and he returned her look placidly, seeming neither elated nor cast down. He said: ‘Hullo there, how nice to be back. Schipol is a miracle of modern planning; it is also no place to be in if you happen to want peace and quiet. Have you had tea? If not, I’ll be with you in five minutes.’

  He was back with half a minute to spare, sitting in his great armchair.

  ‘What shall we do with our evening?’ he wanted to know. ‘I feel guilty leaving you all day as I did.’ He smiled round at them all, looking not in the least guilty but rather very pleased with himself, and, thought Tabitha, studying his face, he was keeping it to himself. He glanced up before she could look away. ‘Tabby, I’ve a message for you—your stepmother asked me to tell you that they intend to be away for several weeks and there will be no point in you going to Chidlake until they return.’

  Tabitha’s thanks were a little bewildered, for her stepmother had never before bothered to send her messages, good or bad; it was almost as though they didn’t want her at Chidlake… She made a strong resolve there and then that just as soon as she could, she would drive over to her home and see for herself. Even if Lilith and her stepmother were going away, there was no reason why she shouldn’t go there for her days off. She had in fact done so on several occasions, for it was, when all was said and done, her home. She contradicted herself. It was only her home by courtesy of her stepmother—she had no more claim to it than anyone else now.

  She came out of her brown study to find Marius’s eyes on her again, and this time the look was guarded and thoughtful, almost as though he had guessed her thoughts. For no reason at all she went pink and when his mouth twitched in a faint, mocking smile, the pink deepened into red just as though she were guilty of something or other. She lifted her chin and turned to Mr Raynard beside her, to plunge into a series of questions about his children, which he, being a kindhearted man and seeing her hot cheeks, answered with a tremendous wealth of detail.

  They decided not to go out that evening, instead Marius suggested that he might ask a few friends in for drinks after dinner, an idea which everyone acclaimed, especially Tabitha and Muriel who saw a chance to wear their new dresses and did so with startling success, even provoking Bill Raynard to say: ‘Well, I must say, Tabby, I’ve always thought you looked very neat and tidy in uniform, but you’ll never be the same again now, however tight you pull back your hair and starch your aprons. Marius, what do you think?’

  Marius put his glass down and his hands in his pockets. He spoke mildly.

  ‘But Tabitha isn’t going to pull her hair back any more, are you, my girl? Though I know what you mean, Bill.’ His eyes twinkled although he wasn’t laughing. ‘Cinderella’s ball gown did the same for her, I believe.’

  Everyone laughed and Tabitha with them because it would have looked silly if she hadn’t, and they had a rather noisy dinner because, for some reason, they all felt lighthearted.

  The guests came about nine o’clock. Tabitha had expected half a dozen of the worthier citizens of the little town, and true enough, the burgemeester and the dominee were the first to arrive with their wives, quickly followed by a sprinkling of lawyers, doctors and several members of the yacht club, but these were augmented by several younger married couples from further afield until the room was full of gay and, as Tabitha couldn’t help see for herself, very well-dressed people. She felt glad she had on the new dress and began to enjoy herself.

  The party broke up about midnight and Tabitha, helping Mr Bow to bed, had to admit that it had been great fun. She said so to him now and added:

  ‘I’ve put your water and glasses and book on the table, but you won’t need a sleeping pill tonight.’ His bewhiskered face looked tired against the pillows; she dropped a kiss on his cheek and said: ‘I’ll peep in on my way up in a few minutes,’ and went downstairs. Muriel and Bill were on the point of going up to their room, but Marius said: ‘Unless you’re very sleepy, Tabitha, stay a minute—I haven’t seen you the whole evening.’

  She didn’t answer but stood rather self-consciously by the door until Marius said in a voice so unlike his usual mild tones that she stared:

  ‘For heaven’s sake sit!’ and before she could do more than feel surprise at his brusque tone, he asked: ‘What do you think of my friends?’

  That surprised her too, for her mind had been running on Lilith. She said, stammering a little: ‘Very nice,’ and added idiotically: ‘They’re all married.’

  Marius’s eyebrows rose slowly. ‘This part of Holland is hardly a hotbed of permissive society,’ he observed blandly, and Tabitha frowned and said shortly: ‘That isn’t at all what I meant—they’re all married with children, or all those I spoke to were, and you…you’re still a bachelor.’

  She was affronted when he burst out laughing and then suddenly unhappy when he said softly: ‘Yes, I am, but not for long now.’

  She wondered if she should congratulate him or just murmur politely. She had decided on the murmur when he disconcerted her by saying: ‘I like your outfit—very dashing and with it. Do you know you’ve turned into a very attractive woman, Tabitha?’

  She got to her feet. The conversation was getting them nowhere.

  ‘Look at me, Marius,’ she said flatly, ‘and I mean a proper look—not just a kind one, for I know you are kind and you’ve done all you can to make me believe that I’m not a plain girl,’ her voice rose, ‘but what is the use? Why did you do it? Look at my face…’

  Marius had been tossing a paperweight up and down like a marble; even in her misery she hoped he wouldn’t drop it; she had admired it several times, it was a millefiori and probably very valuable. She caught her breath as he caught it for the last time and then looked at her. ‘I am looking, Tabitha,’ he smiled with a hint of mockery. ‘I’ve been looking for a long time.’ He sent the paperweight spinning again. ‘Go to bed,’ he said, his voice suddenly harsh. ‘Good night.’

  She tried to make sense of the conversation before she went to sleep, but perhaps she was too tired, for she couldn’t think rationally and the urge to have a good cry was very great. She blew her sensible little nose with determination and closed her eyes firmly on the tears.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  THE MIRACULOUS weather still held the next morning. Tabitha drank the tea Anneke brought her, laboriously trying out her few words of Dutch on the obliging girl as she did so, and then got up, not wishing to miss a moment of the last two days of the holiday. She was early, but Marius was even earlier; they met in the hall and he greeted her with a cheerful ‘Hullo, Tabby, if you’ve nothing better to do, come into the study—you can
browse around the bookshelves while I do some telephoning.’

  The little room was cool and quiet and the bookshelves definitely worth exploring. She wandered to and fro dipping into the catholic collection while she half listened to Marius making a succession of calls, all in Dutch. Presently he said; ‘Now the letters—you’re not bored?’

  She looked up from an old copy of Jane’s Fighting Ships and shook her head, hoping that the letters would take a long time because she was enjoying herself. But they only took fifteen minutes or so, because he dictated them into a Dictaphone she hadn’t noticed on his desk. When he had finished, she asked:

  ‘Who types your letters?’

  ‘My secretary—she’s on holiday because I am, but she’ll be in some time today to deal with these. I couldn’t manage without her—she’s efficient and quiet, besides, she deals with bills and so forth as well as making appointments.’

  Tabitha abandoned her book. ‘Do you see your patients here, then?’

  ‘Some. I’ve rooms in Rotterdam and Middelburg where I see private patients and then I see the Ziekenfonds patients in hospital.’

  ‘Every day?’

  ‘Twice a week. I lecture as well.’

  ‘But you don’t live in Rotterdam?’

  ‘No. Occasionally I spend a night there, but I prefer to go to and fro with the car.’

  Tabitha nodded in agreement. ‘So would I if I were coming back here each evening. But isn’t it a long way?’

  He shrugged. ‘Sixty odd miles, but the roads are good—it doesn’t take me much over an hour.’ He smiled and she smiled back because just for that brief while she was happy sitting there quietly with him, and he seemed to be enjoying it too. Even as she thought it he got up from his desk. ‘What shall we do today?’ he asked.

  She didn’t answer but said instead: ‘There are only two days left,’ and walked through the house with him and out of the street door into the sunshine where there was already a cheerful bustle among the boats in the harbour as well as the clatter of the milkman and the postman and the man with a cartload of fruit and vegetables going slowly down the street, to stop each time a housewife appeared at her door. He shouted at Marius as he passed and then pulled up his elderly horse.

  ‘He’s offering you a pear, he says he’s got some nice ones,’ said Marius. ‘Go and help yourself.’

  ‘I haven’t any money.’ She looked at him doubtfully and he said, half-laughing: ‘Don’t worry about that—Hans is one of his best customers.’ But he walked over to the cart with her and waited while the greengrocer chose her the fruit and said something which made the man laugh very much. She had no idea what it was—she bit into her pear and was content.

  Muriel joined them shortly afterwards and Tabitha went indoors to see how Mr Bow was getting on with his dressing and investigate the muffled roars coming from Mr Raynard’s room, due to the fact that he had mislaid his glasses.

  By mutual consent the whole party voted for a day’s sailing from which they returned so gloriously tired that drinks at the yacht clubhouse and Hans’s excellent dinner, followed by the most desultory conversation, was all that was required to round off a perfect day. It was the same on the following day too, although they returned a little earlier so that they could pack ready for an early start in the morning, and after dinner a few of Marius’s friends came in for a drink and to wish them a good trip home, but they didn’t stay late and by eleven o’clock Tabitha had Mr Bow tucked up and half asleep in his bed and was on her way downstairs again to wish the others good night, only to find that the Raynards had already gone upstairs and Marius alone in the sitting room. She stood just inside the doorway, trying over a few graceful phrases in her head which would get her upstairs again, when Hans came to call him to the telephone, and she was left alone. It seemed rude to go to bed without saying good night; she waited patiently while the old-fashioned Zaansche clock on the wall ticked away five minutes. Probably he had forgotten she was there. But he hadn’t, she had got as far as the arch at the bottom of the stairs when he joined her.

  ‘I see I’m just in time,’ he observed mildly. ‘I should have asked you to wait.’ He opened a cupboard door in the wall and dragged out a thick sweater. ‘Put this round your shoulders—it’s chilly—and come up to the end of the harbour for a last look at the lake.’ They were at the door when he asked as an afterthought: ‘You’d like to come?’

  ‘Yes, thank you,’ said Tabitha politely, who could think of nothing nicer. She draped the thick wool round her, as it was indeed cool, for it was the last day of August and the evenings were shortening, although the sky was still the deep violet of summer and there were more stars than she could hope to count.

  ‘This time tomorrow we shall be in England,’ she said as they leaned over the wall by the hotel to watch the quiet water. Marius flung an arm round her shoulders.

  ‘England in autumn is delightful—I’m looking forward to it.’ And Tabitha, hardly sharing his views, made shift to murmur something and was taken aback when he said blandly: ‘You don’t sound enthusiastic.’

  What was the good of telling him she wasn’t? And what had she to be enthusiastic about anyway? The ward, the endless broken bones, nurses to train, the constant forays to various departments in search of something needed for the ward and which no one wanted her to have…she loved her work, but at the moment it seemed singularly unattractive.

  He said still blandly: ‘You haven’t answered.’

  ‘No, well—I expect we’re thinking of different things, don’t you?’

  He took his arm from her shoulder and tucked a hand under her elbow and turned for home. ‘I’m quite sure we are.’ He sounded amused.

  The return home went without a hitch, but as everything Marius arranged went smoothly, this wasn’t surprising. It was still early evening when they dropped the Raynards off at their house on the outskirts of the city. Tabitha and Mr Bow waited in the Bentley while Marius went to help with their luggage and give Mr Raynard what help he required to get into his house, and Muriel had run back to wish them goodbye and to promise a meeting as soon as it could be arranged. Ten minutes later Marius drew up in front of Tabitha’s flat. The end of the journey, she thought, and of a lovely holiday and, with reservations, of the happiest days of my life. She put her hand on the door to open it and it was instantly covered by Marius’s own hand. ‘No, wait,’ he said, ‘let me make sure Meg’s there first.’

  Of course Meg was there, bustling to the door with cries of welcome. He went back to the car and helped Tabitha out and when she asked him if he and Mr Bow would like to come in for a cup of coffee, said yes, of course, in the tone of voice of someone who had expected the invitation, anyway.

  ‘Go on in to Meg,’ he advised. ‘I’ll see to Knotty and your case.’

  The flat looked very small after the house in Veere, but it was lovely to fling herself at Meg to hug her and be hugged.

  ‘There’s a brown girl,’ said Meg with satisfaction. ‘My word, how well you look, love!’ Her sharp eyes went past Tabitha to study Marius and Mr Bow. ‘And the two gentlemen—very content and pleased with themselves they look.’

  Tabitha turned round to have a look too. Meg was right; they had the look of men who had planned something which had turned out to be more successful than they had imagined it would. She couldn’t think what. She said vaguely: ‘We had a lovely time, Meg. Where’s Podger?’

  Podger came at a sedate trot to greet Mr Bow and sit on his knee while they drank their coffee, and then, at Meg’s earnest invitation, ate the sandwiches she offered. And all the time they talked; there was so much to tell and mull over, more than two hours had passed when Marius got to his feet, declaring it was time they all went to bed. Tabitha wondered where he and Mr Bow intended to spend the night, and longed to ask. Instead she thanked him nicely for her holiday, reminded Mr Bow that she would be seeing him in a couple of days, and wished them both good night. If she had hoped that Marius would have anything to say t
o her, she refused to admit it, her face was calmly friendly as she waved them goodbye—a calm engendered by a hopelessness which she was careful to hide from Meg as they cleared up the coffee cups and got ready for bed. The holiday was over, she couldn’t expect Marius to be more than casually friendly in the future; she had made it plain to him that nothing he could do would make her and Lilith like each other, and naturally it would be Lilith he wanted to please—and that meant cold-shouldering her.

  She woke in the night and for a few blissful moments, imagined that she was still in Veere and as it was impossible to sleep again, she lay remembering. ‘At least I have memories,’ she said out loud to Podger, who being sleepy, took no notice at all. But she dismissed the memories in the morning and set herself to entertain Meg with all the details of her stay in Holland and then, because Meg had been having a rather lonely time of it, she drove her down to Torquay, where they had lunch and a pleasant stroll along the sea-front. Meg enjoyed herself enormously, but its bustling holiday atmosphere merely served to make Tabitha sick with longing for Veere again.

  The ward, on Monday morning, looked unfamiliar in its fresh coat of paint and the gay new curtains. The patients looked unfamiliar too, excepting for Mr Prosser, who had suffered an infection which had set him back a few weeks. He hailed Tabitha with his usual good humour, however, declared that she looked prettier than ever and wanted to know if she had drowned anyone sailing.

  ‘Good gracious, no,’ said Tabitha cheerfully. ‘I’m far too good at it.’

  ‘You brought our Dutchman back with yer, Sister?’

  She said with dignity: ‘Mr van Beek returned with us, yes. Mr Bow too, he’s coming in tomorrow for a check-up and to have his plaster off.’

  ‘And the boss—’ow’s ’e? Can’t think ’ow ’e managed with that great plaster round ’is knee. Sailin’, I mean.’