Emma's Wedding Read online

  It was an early dusk, and chilly, but it was lovely to be out of doors after the warmth of the waiting room. The post office was five minutes’ walk away; Emma went over the little bridge at the end of the street, turned left and followed the canal. The post office was on the corner, facing a busy main road thick with traffic, trams and people. She would have liked to have lingered, taken a quick look around, but that would have to wait until she was free tomorrow. She hurried back and found Juffrouw Smit still at her desk, with no sign of the doctor.

  ‘Take the key,’ said Juffrouw Smit, ‘and go to my house. Perhaps you would put everything ready for our meal? Zuurkool and potatoes and a smoked sausage. Put them all on a very low gas and feed Percy. I shall be another ten minutes. While I cook our meal you can take him for his walk.’

  So Emma went back to the little house, to be greeted by a delighted Percy and deal with the saucepans and wait for Juffrouw Smit.

  Juffrouw Smit was sitting opposite the doctor’s desk, listening to him.

  ‘Yes,’ she told him, ‘Miss Dawson—who wishes to be called Emma—has settled in without fuss. A sensible girl with nice manners, and quick to grasp what is wanted of her.’ Juffrouw Smit fixed the doctor with a sharp eye. ‘Do you wish me to train her to take my place, Doctor?’

  ‘Take your place? Smitty, you surely don’t want to retire? There are years ahead of you. You surely never supposed that that was in my mind? I cannot imagine being without you. No, no, I will explain…’

  Which he did, though giving away none of his true feelings, but as Juffrouw Smit got up to go and reached the door she turned to look at him.

  ‘You wish to marry Emma, Doctor?’

  He glanced up from the papers he was turning over. ‘That is my intention, Smitty.’

  The smile he gave her warmed her spinster’s heart.

  Emma, unaware of the future planned for her, took Percy for a brisk walk, noting the names of the streets as she went. The ranks of tall old houses all looked rather alike, and so did the canals. As she went back she passed the consulting rooms and saw the lights were still on. She hoped the doctor wasn’t sitting there working when he should be at home with that magnificent dog. Kulk should be offering him a stiff drink after his day’s work while Mevrouw Kulk cooked him a delicious meal. It would be nice to see the house again, but she doubted if she would.

  That evening she listened to Juffrouw Smit’s suggestions—clearly to be taken most seriously—concerning her washing and ironing, the time of the day when she might consider the bathroom to be hers, and the household chores she was expected to do—which weren’t many, for a stout woman came twice each week to clean. Emma must keep her room clean and tidy, and help with the cooking and tidying of the kitchen.

  Armed with a Dutch dictionary, and a phrasebook Juffrouw Smit gave her, Emma spent a good deal of her evening in the small room beside the kitchen. Only just before bedtime did she join Juffrouw Smit in the sitting room for a last cup of coffee before saying goodnight. They talked a little then, and watched the news, before she let Percy into the garden prior to taking him upstairs with her.

  For the moment Emma was content; it was all new to her and it would be several weeks before she would feel anything other than a lodger. A day out tomorrow—Saturday—she decided. She would get a map of the city and find her way around at her leisure, and on Sunday she would go to church—there would surely be an English Church? And she would write letters in the little room, out of Juffrouw Smit’s way.

  She had written home once already, a brief letter telling her mother of her safe arrival, with the address and phone number. She would buy postcards too, and send them to Phoebe and Miss Johnson and Mrs Craig. And find a bookshop…

  She went to bed with a head full of cheerful plans. Juffrouw Smit had listened to them and nodded and offered a street map, and told her where she would find the English church. She had observed that she herself would be spending Saturday with a cousin and on Sunday would be going to her own church in the morning.

  ‘So you must feel free to spend your days as you wish, Emma. You have a key, and I hope you will do as you wish and treat my house as your home.’

  Emma told herself that she was a very lucky girl; she had a job, a home, and Percy—and, as well as that, her mother was once more happy.

  She helped to wash up and tidy the little house in the morning and then went to her room to get her jacket and her handbag. When she went downstairs Percy was in the hall waiting for her. So were Juffrouw Smit and Dr van Dyke.

  His good morning was genial. ‘If you feel like a walk I thought I might show you some of Amsterdam. It can be a little confusing to a stranger…’

  She stared up at him. ‘Thank you, but I wouldn’t dream of wasting your time. I have a street map…’

  ‘Oh, but I’m much easier to understand than a street map.’ He smiled at her. ‘The canals can be very confusing, don’t you agree, Smitty?’

  ‘Oh, undoubtedly, Doctor. And it will be much quicker for Emma to find her way around once she has been guided by someone who knows the city.’ She said briskly to Emma, ‘You have your key?’

  Emma nodded, trying to think of something to say which wouldn’t sound rude; she was having her day arranged for her, and although it would be delightful to spend it with the doctor she couldn’t help but feel that he was performing a charitable act prompted by good manners. To refuse wasn’t possible; rudeness was something she had been brought up to avoid at all costs, so she said quietly, ‘You’re very kind. May I bring Percy?’

  ‘Of course. He’ll be company for Prince.’

  They bade Juffrouw Smit goodbye and went out into the street. The Rolls was there, with Prince in the driver’s seat, and Emma came to a halt.

  ‘I was going to explore Amsterdam…’

  ‘So we will, but first we will go back to my place and have coffee, and leave Prince and Percy in Kulk’s charge; neither of them would enjoy sightseeing, you know.’

  This statement was uttered in such a reasonable voice that there was no answer…besides, it was obvious when they reached his house that Percy was delighted to be handed over to the care of Kulk and Prince’s fatherly company.

  She was ushered into the room where they had had breakfast and the dogs rushed out into the garden as Kulk came in with the coffee tray. Emma, pouring coffee from the silver pot into paper-thin cups, allowed herself to enjoy the quiet luxury of the doctor’s household. A pity, she thought as she nibbled a wafer-thin biscuit, that she couldn’t see behind the ornate double doors on the other side of the hall. It was a large house, and doubtless full of lovely furniture…

  She made polite small talk, encouraged by the doctor’s grave replies, but it was a relief when he suggested that she might like to tidy herself before they went back to Amsterdam.

  He parked the Rolls outside his consulting rooms. ‘I shall show you the lay-out of the city,’ he told her, ‘so that you are familiar with the main streets. We shall walk first to the station. Think of it as the centre of a spider’s web. The main streets radiate from it and the canals encircle it. Always carry Juffrouw Smit’s address with you, and my telephone number, and keep to the main streets until you know your way around.’

  He walked her briskly to the station, then down Damrak to Damrak Square, where he allowed her a moment to view the royal palace and the memorial before taking her through Kalverstraat, lined with shops, to the Leidesgracht, into the Herengracht and into Vizelstraat back towards the Dam Square.

  He took her to lunch then, in a large hotel close to the flower market and the Mint, and Emma, her appetite sharpened by their lengthy walking, ate smoked eel—which she hadn’t expected to like but which turned out to be simply delicious—followed by sole meunière with a salad and a dessert of profiteroles and whipped cream. Pouring coffee, she said in her sensible way, ‘That was a lovely lunch. Thank you!’

  ‘Good. Now I will show you where the museums are, and the churches, the Town Hall, the hospit
als and the post office and banks.’

  So off they went once more. It was hardly a social outing, reflected Emma, conscious that her feet were beginning to ache, excepting for the lunch, of course. On the other hand it was going to make finding her way around the city much easier.

  It was four o’clock when he said finally, ‘You would like a cup of tea,’ and ushered her to a small elegant café. She sank into a chair and eased her feet out of her shoes, drank the tea and ate a mountainous pastry swimming in cream and then pushed her feet back into her shoes once again.

  It was a relief to find that they were only a short walk from Juffrouw Smit’s house, and when they were in sight of it the doctor said, ‘I’ve tired you out. Go indoors; I’ll fetch Percy.’

  If her feet hadn’t been hurting so much perhaps she might have demurred. As it was she went thankfully into the house and he went at once. ‘Fifteen minutes,’ he told her, and was gone.

  She had her shoes off and her slippers on, her outdoor things put away and everything ready for coffee by the time he returned with Percy.

  She opened the door to him, embraced Percy and politely offered coffee.

  The doctor stood looking at her. The bright overhead light in the little hall had turned her fiery head into a rich glow, and the long walk had given her a splendid colour. The temptation to gather her into his arms and kiss her was great, but he resisted it, well aware that this wasn’t the time or the place.

  ‘Would you like coffee?’ asked Emma.

  ‘I’ve an appointment,’ he told her. ‘I do hope I haven’t tired you too much?’

  ‘No, no. I’ve enjoyed every minute of it—and it will be so helpful now that I’ve a good idea of the city. It was a lovely day. Thank you very much.’

  He smiled, then bade her goodbye and went away.

  It seemed very quiet in the little house when he had gone. She made dark coffee, fed Percy and thought about her day. Being with the doctor had been delightful, for he was a good companion and she felt quite at ease in his company, but she doubted if there would be many occasions such as today. He had felt it his duty, no doubt, to make her familiar with Amsterdam, since she had had no chance to do anything about it herself, and probably he felt responsible about her since she was in his employ. And that was something she must never forget, for all his friendliness.

  Juffrouw Smit had said that she would be late home, so Emma got her own supper presently, and wrote a letter to her mother. She had plenty to write about, and she had only just finished it when Juffrouw Smit came back. They sat together for an hour over coffee, exchanging news of their day until bedtime.

  Tomorrow, thought Emma sleepily, curling up in her bed, I shall go to church, have lunch somewhere and explore. The quicker she felt at home in Amsterdam the better.

  She found the little church in the Beguine Court, which the doctor had told her about, and after the service wandered around looking at the charming little houses surrounding it before going in search of a small café.

  Much refreshed by a kaas broodje and coffee, she found her way to the station, bought a timetable with an eye to future expeditions, and then boarded a sightseeing boat to tour the canals.

  The boat was full, mostly with Americans and English, and the guide kept up a running commentary as they went from one canal to the other. It gave her a splendid back-to-front view of the city, with the lovely old houses backing onto the canals, some with high-walled gardens, some of their windows almost at water level. If she had had the time she would have gone round again for a second time, but it was almost four o’clock and she intended to have tea before she went back to Juffrouw Smit.

  She found the café where the doctor had taken her, and, reckless of the prices, had tea and an enormous confection of cream and meringue and chocolate. Then, well satisfied with her day, she went back to Juffrouw Smit’s little house.

  They spent a pleasant evening together, talking about nothing much while Juffrouw Smit knitted a complicated pattern with enviable ease. Beyond hoping that she had enjoyed her day she asked no questions as to what Emma had done with it, nor did she vouchsafe any information as to her own day. Emma sensed that although they liked each other they would never become friendly enough to exchange personal feelings. But it was enough that they could live together in harmony.

  The days went smoothly enough. As the week progressed Emma found herself taking on more and more of the trivial jobs at the consulting rooms, so that Juffrouw Smit could spend more time at her desk, dealing with the computer, the e-mails and the fax machine. For all her staid appearance, there was nothing lacking in her modern skills.

  These were things Emma supposed she would have to master if she wished to make a career for herself, but first she supposed that she must learn at least a smattering of the Dutch language. She must ask Juffrouw Smit if there were evening classes. But for the moment it was enough that she had a roof over her head, a job and her wages.

  Towards the end of the week she had a letter from her mother. Mrs Dawson was happy—something she had never been with her, thought Emma wistfully, but it was good to know that she was finding life fun again. She and Alice, she wrote, had settled in well. They had found a woman to look after the place, and they had joined a bridge club. They had coffee with Mrs Craig and various friends each morning, and the boutique had such lovely clothes for the winter. At the end of the letter Mrs Dawson hoped that Emma had settled in happily and was getting to know some young people and having fun. You really must learn to enjoy life more, darling! She didn’t ask about Emma’s work.

  Emma, stifling hurt feelings, was glad that her mother was once again living the kind of life she had always enjoyed. She wrote back cheerfully.

  Otherwise she spent her evenings poring over the Dutch dictionary, and replied with a cool politeness to the doctor’s brief greetings as he came and went each day.

  She had been there almost a month when she decided that she could afford to buy a winter coat. She had learned her way around Amsterdam by now, and there were side streets where there were little dress shops where one might pick up a bargain…

  Her pay packet crackling nicely in her pocket, she was getting out the case sheets for the day’s patients when the doctor came out of his room. He put a letter on the desk and turned to go back.

  ‘Please see that your letters are addressed to Juffrouw Smit’s house and not to my rooms,’ he observed pleasantly, and had gone again before Emma could utter an apology.

  She picked up the letter. It looked official, typewritten and sent by the overnight express mail. She opened it slowly—had she left an unpaid bill? Or was it something to do with the bank?

  She began to read.

  CHAPTER SIX

  IT WAS from Mr Trump. This would be a severe shock to her, he wrote, but her mother and her friend Mrs Riddley had died instantly in a car crash while making a short visit to friends at Richmond. Fortunately, someone who knew them had phoned him at once and he was dealing with the tragic matter. He had not known how to reach her on the phone but begged her to ring him as soon as possible. It was a kind letter and he assured her of his support and assistance.

  She read it through again, standing in the cubbyhole, until Juffrouw Smit’s voice, a little impatient, penetrated the blankness of her mind. Would she take the doctor’s coffee in at once, or he would have no time to drink it before the first patient arrived.

  She made the coffee, filled his cup and carried cup and saucer across to his door, knocked and went in. As she set them down on his desk he looked up, saw her ashen face and promptly got up to take her in his arms.

  ‘Emma, what’s wrong? Are you ill?’ He remembered the letter. ‘Bad news?’

  She didn’t trust herself to speak but fished the letter out of her pocket. Still with one arm round her, he read it.

  ‘My poor dear girl. What shocking news.’ He sat her down in the chair facing his desk and pressed the button which would light the discreet red light on Juffrouw Smit’s
desk. When that lady came, he said, ‘Smitty, Emma has had bad news from England. Will you bring her some brandy, then delay my first patient if she comes on time?’

  When she brought the brandy he explained in Dutch, and then asked, ‘Is Nurse here yet?’

  ‘Any minute now.’

  ‘She must cope here while you take Emma back to your house. Stay with her for as long as you need to, get her a hot drink and try to get her to lie down.’ Then, in English, he said, ‘Drink this, Emma. Juffrouw Smit will take you back to her house in a moment. Leave the letter with me. I will telephone Mr Trump and discover all I can, then let you know what is best to be done.’

  ‘I must go…’

  ‘Of course. Don’t worry about that. I’ll arrange everything. Now, drink the rest of the brandy like a good girl.’

  A little colour had crept into her cheeks and he took her hands in his.

  ‘Do as Juffrouw Smit suggests and wait until I come, Emma.’ His quiet voice pierced her numb senses, firm and comforting, letting her know that he would do everything he could to help her. She gave him a small bleak smile and went with Juffrouw Smit.

  There were five minutes before his patient would arrive, and the doctor spent them sitting at his desk. By the time she was ushered in by the nurse he knew exactly what had to be done.

  Emma, like an obedient child, did just what Juffrouw Smit bade her do: drank the tea she was offered and lay down on her bed with a blanket tucked around her. She was aware that Juffrouw Smit was talking to her in a quiet, comforting voice, sitting by the bed holding her hand. Presently, she told herself, she would think what must be done, but somehow her thoughts slid away to nothing…

  She had no idea how long she had been lying there when Dr van Dyke came in.

  Juffrouw Smit slipped away and he sat down in her chair and took Emma’s hand in his. She opened her eyes and looked at him, and then sat up in bed as the realisation of what had occurred penetrated her shock.