Cobweb Morning Read online

  They lunched in a small room, oak-panelled and with small windows overlooking the grounds at the back of the house. They sat at a round oak table, on tall carved chairs, and there was little else in the room save a vast sideboard and a great bowl of flowers on an exquisite china pedestal.

  Alexandra loved it, but Penny exclaimed in disappointment: ‘Oh, is this the dining-room? I thought it would be much larger and grander. There aren’t any pictures,’ her eyes swept the sideboard, ‘and no silver.’

  ‘What did you expect?’ asked the doctor in a tolerant voice, ‘gold plate and footmen? But if it will make you any happier, there is another dining-room; it’s too large for us.’

  ‘Do you give parties—big ones?’ Penny had waved the soup away impatiently.

  ‘Occasionally—when I have reason to celebrate something.’

  She smiled bewitchingly. ‘Then we can have one while I’m here, can’t we? Oh, Taro, please!’

  ‘Let’s be practical,’ he begged her, half laughing. ‘I’m a hard-working doctor. The time I’ve wasted rushing to and fro to check up on you is no one’s business, and somehow I’ve got to make that time up. No party, Penny.’

  She pouted prettily. ‘Taro, not even a teeny one? Then we’ll have to do something to make up for it. Couldn’t we go out to dinner and go to a theatre? Surely there’s a theatre or a night club?’

  The doctor’s expression didn’t change, he applied himself to the canard à l’orange with which Pieters had just served him. ‘You seem to have had quite a taste for the bright lights,’ he observed lightly, ‘you must have been a swinger that past life of yours.’

  He barely glanced at her before he turned to his aunt. ‘I’ve one or two appointments,’ he told her. ‘If I’m delayed I’ll telephone, but I should be back by seven o’clock—if I’m not, don’t wait dinner.’ He glanced at Alexandra. ‘The library is on the other side of the hall, do take any book you want,’ he told her pleasantly, ‘and might I suggest that you and Penny go for a brisk walk before tea? And that’s at half past three, by the way. There’s a very small village about half a mile down the road, the church is rather quaint. Pieters will tell you how to get the key if you want to go inside, he speaks a little English and understands a great deal.’

  He left them almost immediately after they had finished lunch, and Alexandra, standing idly by the window while Penny and Miss Thrums finished their coffee, wasn’t really surprised when she saw the car he drove himself away in—a silver-grey Rolls-Royce, no less. Nothing else would have done, she conceded, watching its sleek nose slide past the corner of the house. He looked up as he passed and waved, and even as she returned this salute she felt annoyance at herself for being at the window in the first place. He had waved just as though he had expected her to be there, too. He would think her vulgarly curious. She joined the others without mentioning the Rolls; Penny would find out soon enough.

  They went to get their coats shortly afterwards and Penny was so sweet and charming during their walk that Alexandra became full of doubt once more. She really shouldn’t have the job at all, she thought worriedly; the fact that she was in love with Taro herself made her most unsuitable and probably she was imagining things about Penny just because of it. The poor girl needed someone older and more motherly, someone who would listen with kindly tolerance to her ceaseless chatter about the doctor. Perhaps she really was in love with him, thought Alexandra, leaning over backwards to be tolerant and motherly, although she didn’t think so; Penny was enchanted with his good looks and his deep voice and his beautiful house and unexpected wealth, but then she herself was enchanted too, not that she cared a button whether he had any money or not; he would do very nicely just as he was, thought Alexandra longingly, and never mind the trimmings.

  But being woeful about it wasn’t going to help at all, she was on a job and just because she was in love with the doctor was no reason to be suspicious of Penny. She laid herself out to be as nice as she could to her charge for the rest of the day; it was rather a strain, especially when after dinner, Penny knelt at the doctor’s feet, gazing adoringly into his face. The fact that he was, for the greater part of the time, deeply immersed in some papers and quite unaware of this made very little difference, made it no easier to watch. Even when he looked up briefly and asked her what she thought of the newest twinbagged catheters, his question was uttered in such an impersonal tone—just as though they had been standing in the recovery room—that she took no pleasure from it, and mumbled a reply quite lacking in observation, earning nothing more than a raised eyebrow on his part. She didn’t see him at all the next day; he was away before eight o’clock and she had been in bed an hour or more when she saw the lights of the car from her bed. By listening hard she could just make out the purr of the Rolls passing beneath her window. A long day, she thought sleepily; he would be tired out. Probably Pieters or Nel or the plump Bet who did the cooking would be waiting up to get him a meal. She sat up and thumped her pillows, wide awake again, and then froze at the tap on her door. It was Pieters’ voice, very low, which reached her ear, urging her in his basic English to put on a robe and go downstairs.

  She was out of bed, tearing into her dressing gown and thrusting her feet into her slippers almost before he had finished speaking; Taro must be ill—unconscious—dying, perhaps. She raced downstairs, hair flying, her face a picture of fear, and plunged through the door Pieters was holding open for her.

  Taro was sitting at the table, a bowl of soup before him, a glass in his hand. He looked the picture of good health, albeit a little tired, and she skidded to a halt half-way across the room to protest: ‘I thought you were ill—or something frightful. Pieters said come downstairs…’ She fetched a breath. ‘I was in bed,’ she added accusingly.

  He had got to his feet, watching her. ‘So I see,’ he spoke on a laugh, ‘and very nice too; the hair is very pretty like that, you should wear it hanging down your back.’

  She felt bewildered; surely she hadn’t come downstairs at that hour of night to discuss hair styles with him. ‘Don’t be absurd—I’m not a girl.’

  ‘No? I beg to disagree about that.’ He smiled so nicely that she almost smiled back at him, but remembered in time to ask severely: ‘Is it urgent? Whatever it was you wished to see me about?’

  For answer he pulled out the chair beside his. ‘Come and sit down, Pieters shall bring you something—coffee, perhaps?—then I can finish my supper with a clear conscience. You see, I have to leave at six o’clock tomorrow morning and I haven’t yet told you where to go with Penny.’ He began on his soup. ‘She’s to be at van Toller’s rooms at half past ten. Pieters will drive you in and Aunty will be with you. I’ll meet you there and when it’s finished, I’ll drive you both back. Aunty wants to do some shopping and come back with Pieters later.’ He glanced at her. ‘Is that clear?’

  The coffee had come and she poured herself a cup while Pieters set a grilled steak before the doctor. ‘Yes, thank you. When shall we know the results of—of whatever is going to be done?’

  She thought how guarded his face looked. ‘Perhaps at once. It’s a gamble.’

  ‘Isn’t that rather soon?’

  ‘Not in certain circumstances—you see, we think we know what the result will be.’

  She chose her words carefully. ‘Would it make any difference to you whatever it is? I mean, supposing Penny isn’t likely to regain her memory ever again?— That can happen with retrograde amnesia, can’t it? Would it matter very much?’

  ‘You are referring, I imagine, to my personal feelings. It won’t make a scrap of difference to me, either way.’

  The coffee cup before her became a little misty and she couldn’t quite trust her voice. She gulped the scalding liquid instead and choked—providentially—because now it didn’t matter that tears filled her eyes. He thumped her back gently, proffered his handkerchief and refrained from commenting on the super-abundance of tears on her cheeks. When she had recovered a little, he went on wit
h his supper until she asked: ‘How long is Penny to stay here? That is, if nothing more can be done?’

  She waited anxiously for his answer, and when it came she was disappointed; he was going to tell her nothing. ‘Ask me that question after she has seen van Toller,’ he advised her lightly. ‘There’s an excellent pudding, you’d better have some of it.’

  ‘But I had dinner…’

  ‘I shall be lonely if you go.’

  She assented weakly, eating her share of the castle puddings, light as air, which Pieters had placed before them, and then having another cup of coffee while Taro drank his. And gradually she relaxed under the gentle flow of his small talk, and presently she found herself telling him about her home and parents. ‘Though Miss Thrums’ cottage is just as pretty as Father’s house,’ she told him, ‘it’s like a fairytale house. Did you really mean that—that you would like a home just like hers?’ She turned to look at him inquiringly. ‘I don’t see how you could have when you have all this.’

  ‘Oh, make no mistake. I love this place down to the last bolt and nail, but it would be very pleasant to have a small place to go to,’ he gave her a wicked look, ‘where I could wear old clothes and saw logs and walk instead of driving.’

  ‘You can do all that here.’

  He shook his head. ‘I seldom have the time. Were you sorry for me, Alexandra?’

  ‘Well, yes. You see, I thought the Morris was yours and that’s hardly a successful doctor’s car, is it, and your clothes were—well, the old ones you liked wearing, I suppose, but I didn’t know that, did I? And when you visited Miss Thrums, you never came in a car—I thought you had to walk from the nearest bus stop.’ She gave him a defiant look. ‘Now tell me I’m silly, you must have thought it often enough.’

  He said slowly: ‘No, dear Miss Dobbs, I have never thought that of you; nothing you could do or say would alter my opinion of you. And now I think that perhaps you had better go to bed,’ and when she got obediently to her feet, he got up too and kissed her gently on her cheek before going to open the door for her. She looked down as she reached the head of the stairs and he was still standing there, watching her.

  She did as he had told her in the morning, coaxing Penny, who quite suddenly didn’t want to go to see a specialist, to get up and dress and eat some sort of a breakfast. Somehow she managed to have her ready by the time Pieters came to the door, sitting in the driving seat of a BMW 520.

  They were met in the hall by Miss Thrums, clad, as was her wont, in a sensible tweed coat and a felt hat which could only be described as vintage. She exchanged an understanding glance with Alexandra and declared her intention of sitting in front with Pieters, leaving her the task of keeping Penny happy during the short drive.

  Professor van Toller lived close to the Rapenburg Canal, in a tall thin house in the middle of a row of houses exactly similar. He was a burly man, giving the impression that at any moment he would split the seams of his well cut suit; he must have a good tailor, thought Alexandra, shaking hands and warming at once to his fatherly manner. But Penny, when she was introduced to him, hung back a little and when, after a few minutes’ aimless talk, he suggested that he might start his examination, she declared that she wouldn’t be examined and that no one could force her, a state of affairs happily put right by the appearance of Taro, looking somehow quite different—remote and professional—in his sober grey suit. He overrode her objections in a friendly, compelling manner which gave her no chance at all, and Professor van Toller’s nurse opened his consulting room door. He ushered Penny in, exchanged a look with Taro and turned to Alexandra. ‘I think it would be as well if you were present, Miss Dobbs—instead of my own nurse, you know.’ He swept her inside too, with Taro behind her, and she thought she knew why he had done it; it would be nicer for Penny, for a start, and all doctors liked a nurse or secretary there when they were dealing with young women, they were useful to help with the taking off and putting on of clothes and they were reassuring. She took the chair Taro nodded her into, and waited.

  Professor van Toller seated himself behind his desk and glanced at the papers before him. ‘Retrograde amnesia,’ he rumbled to himself. ‘Now, young lady, let me see…’ He muttered his way through the notes, occasionally asking a question, and referring at times to Taro, speaking with a word of apology, in their own language. Presently he laid the notes down and sat back, just looking at Penny, who at first looked back at him and then presently dropped her eyes. Alexandra, uncomfortably aware of tension in the air, was taken completely by surprise when he said suddenly: ‘And now, Miss Dobbs, we will hear your precise account of what happened while you were driving the car.’

  She didn’t look at Penny or Taro. ‘Penny has already told Doctor van Dresselhuys that she can’t remember anything about it—is it really necessary? No harm was done…’

  ‘Very necessary, Miss Dobbs. You have not been asked to tell your version of this occurrence for several good reasons. If you will begin, please.’ He beamed at her. ‘I listen attentively,’ he assured her.

  ‘Well,’ she began slowly, and was interrupted by Penny.

  ‘She’ll tell you a lot of lies,’ she said rapidly. ‘She doesn’t like me, and I’ll tell you why…’

  She was interrupted in turn by Taro with a swift smoothness which gained Alexandra’s instant admiration. ‘Penny,’ he said quietly, ‘it would be wise for you to hold your tongue,’ and his tone was such that she did so at once, her blue eyes on his face; a questioning look, tinged with suspicion.

  Alexandra made her statement as briefly as possible and when she had finished, the professor asked: ‘And your own impression, Miss Dobbs?’

  She looked at Penny. ‘I’m sorry,’ she told her quietly, and then turned back to Professor van Toller. ‘I may have been mistaken, but at the time I had the impression that Penny was quite aware of what she was doing, and I don’t think that she had forgotten it when we got back to Miss Thrums’ house.’

  ‘And other than that, have you at any time been given cause to wonder if this young lady’s amnesia was complete?’

  ‘Once or twice.’

  ‘You will be good enough to tell us.’

  ‘The first time was a few weeks ago, the second time was the day before yesterday.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘I would rather not repeat the conversation. Would you just take my word for it?’

  The professor beamed again. ‘For the moment, Miss Dobbs. And now let us take a look at our patient.’ He spoke to the room at large. ‘Hypnosis might serve us very well in this case—to obtain information from the patient’s subconscious and feed it back to her, as it were. It has been known to prove successful in a number of cases.’ He looked around him. ‘Now, I shall want that powerful lamp just here, I think, and if the young lady will sit…’

  ‘I won’t—it’s a trick!’ shouted Penny. ‘You’re only leading me on. You know—you knew all the time,’ she turned furiously to Alexandra. ‘And you, spying on me, trying to catch me out, listening and smiling. When did you start to guess, eh? But I was too clever for you—and now you’re telling lies because you don’t want me to win, do you?’ She laughed. ‘It was so funny, you knew what I wanted, didn’t you, and you wanted the same thing, but you couldn’t do anything about it—and that silly old woman…’

  ‘You will leave my aunt out of this.’ Taro’s voice was coolly professional. ‘You will also stop abusing Miss Dobbs. You will tell us your name and family details, and I advise you to tell the truth, for we can check it easily enough.’

  ‘How long have you known?’ demanded Penny sullenly. ‘You never let on…’

  ‘I suspected that your amnesia wasn’t genuine some time ago, but I had no positive proof, and in any case it was necessary for you to be seen by another doctor before my suspicions could be confirmed. You would never have told us, would you, Penny?’

  ‘Take me for a fool? Well, now what am I supposed to do?’

  ‘Your name?’ prompted
the professor.

  She said sulkily: ‘Jacqueline Coster. I’m twenty-three, my home’s in Birmingham—leastways, Mum and Dad live there, I haven’t seen them for a couple of years—longer than that. I live with a boy-friend in London. We had a tiff and I walked out on him and hitchhiked—got that car from a chap I know; he said he’d borrowed it. I was having a ride round when I hit trouble.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell us this as soon as you remembered it?’ Taro’s voice was impersonally kind.

  ‘Think I’m soft?’ Penny laughed. ‘I was on to an easy life, wasn’t I? I had my plans too, and when we got here…’ She paused. ‘What are you going to do?’

  ‘Send you home, Penny. You will have to make a statement to the police because you’re still on their books as a case to be solved. You will be taken to the airport, I should imagine, and accompanied to England by one of our policewomen. When you’re in England you will be able to decide where you wish to go. Your parents will be told, of course, and so, if you wish, will your boy-friend. And now if you will wait in the other room, the professor and I have one or two things to discuss.’

  The two of them sat uneasily looking out of the window. Alexandra had tried to talk, but Penny hunched a shoulder and turned away. It was fortunate that the two men were only a few minutes, and when the professor had wished them good-bye, Taro suggested to Alexandra’s astonishment, that they might have lunch before they went back. ‘There’s a good restaurant close by,’ he told them, and took Penny’s arm, leaving Alexandra to follow them out into the street.

  It was surprising, but lunch was a success; Taro made no mention of Penny’s leaving, there was certainly no reproach in his manner towards her, and after the first few awkward minutes she had reverted to her charming air of helplessness. The girl was a splendid actress, decided Alexandra, spearing sole Montreuil; the food was delicious, but she had no appetite, and although she contributed her share of the conversation when necessary, she left the other two to do the talking. It was three o’clock when they got into the Rolls, and Pieters was crossing the hall with the tea tray as they reached the house. Miss Thrums was at home; she greeted them with her normal brisk manner as they went into the sitting-room, poured tea, asked their opinion of Leiden, and pointed out, rather obviously, that it was beginning to snow, evincing not the least curiosity as to what had happened that morning. Only when they had finished tea did she suggest that Penny might like to pack her things. ‘And I’ll come with you,’ she declared, blandly oblivious of Penny’s mutinous expression. ‘Packing is such a dull undertaking on one’s own.’