The Doubtful Marriage Page 9

  She beamed her delight. ‘Oh, Rauwerd, how lovely. I’d like that.’ She frowned. ‘But I ordered dinner…’

  He glanced at his watch. ‘I doubt if Bep has started on it yet.’ He spoke to Jan who smiled and nodded and went away in the direction of the kitchen. ‘Wear that pink dress you bought the other day.’

  He took her to den Haag, to the Saur Restaurant, where they dined off lobster thermidor and drank champagne, and later he drove to Scheveningen and they danced. He danced well with casual perfection, saying little, and Matilda was content that he did. The evening was proving a delight and she didn’t want it to end; indeed, it was the small hours before they returned home.

  ‘A lovely evening, Rauwerd,’ she told him as they went indoors. ‘Thank you…’ She would have said more but his coolly polite, ‘I’m glad you enjoyed it, Matilda,’ took the words from her. She wished him a quiet goodnight and went to bed, vaguely unhappy, and not quite sure why.

  He was his usual calm and friendly self at breakfast and during the drive to Hilversum. The elder van Kemplers lived in a square house with a steep roof, painted white and with green shutters to its windows. It stood in a large garden beautifully landscaped, a mile or so outside one of the many villages around the town.

  ‘Have your family always lived here?’ asked Matilda.

  ‘Yes. A van Kempler built it early in the eighteenth century, and its been added to and modernised from time to time. You like it?’

  ‘It looks charming.’ She got out of the car feeling nervous. His family had been kind to her on their wedding day but they might have had second thoughts since then.

  They hadn’t. She was welcomed warmly, swept into a vast drawing-room and plied with coffee and small crisp biscuits while Mevrouw van Kempler chatted about nothing much. But presently she began to talk about the family: Rauwerd, the eldest…

  ‘Six children,’ she observed contentedly. ‘The other boys are away—they’ll be home shortly; both married, as are his sisters. Rauwerd has taken longer than the others to find himself a bride.’ She beamed at Matilda and patted her hand. ‘And such a dear girl, too. His father and I are so pleased, my dear. He works so hard, he needs a wife and children to slow him down a little.’

  Matilda murmured and to her own annoyance blushed, something which Mevrouw van Kempler noted with pleasure.

  It was too chilly a day to go into the garden; Matilda was taken on a tour of the vast conservatory at the back of the house instead, walking with her father-in-law, able, to her relief, to carry on quite a sensible conversation about the variety of plants growing there. She liked the elderly man, so like his eldest son, yet so much easier to talk to.

  Before they left, Rauwerd, sitting with his mother, called across to her, ‘My dear, we would like Mother and Father to come to dinner one evening, wouldn’t we? I’m free on Thursday after lunch, shall it be then?’

  His manner towards her made her feel very married. She agreed smilingly and hoped that his parents wouldn’t guess at the real state of affairs, for she liked them too much to hurt them.

  They went back home for lunch and soon afterwards Rauwerd left home saying that he hoped to be back for dinner but he would ring her if he found it impossible.

  She almost bit her tongue off in her efforts not to ask him where he was going. She said serenely, ‘Very well, Rauwerd,’ and returned his intent look with a smile, aware that he was expecting her to question him.

  Dickens didn’t go with him. Matilda spent the evening watching a television programme she couldn’t understand, then walked Dickens in the garden. When Rauwerd phoned, as she had guessed he would, she assured him that she was having a pleasant evening, had her dinner and went to bed very early.

  Not, however, to sleep; not until long after midnight when she heard the car and presently Rauwerd’s quiet footsteps going past her door.

  She forbore, with the greatest effort, from mentioning the previous evening over their breakfast, but remarked brightly that it was a fine morning and she intended to explore the town.

  He would be home for lunch, he told her, and would she phone Rose and ask her and Sybren for dinner on Thursday? ‘They are friends of my parents. I have to go to Amsterdam on Friday—I should like to bring back an old friend to dinner; we’ll need someone to make a fourth, and I’ll ask Professor Vouters—I was his registrar years ago and we’ve not lost touch, although he’s retired now. You’ll like him.’

  It was only after he had gone that Matilda remembered that he hadn’t said anything about the old friend in Amsterdam.

  She had a long talk with Rose on the phone. They were going to be friends, she felt sure of that, and Rose’s sensible reassurances about the pitfalls Matilda was likely to encounter made life seem suddenly rather fun.

  ‘Little Sybren’s cut a tooth,’ said Rose. ‘We’re so pleased with him. Wait till you have a baby; they’re such fun. What are you going to wear on Thursday?’

  Matilda went to see Bep in the kitchen and, with Jan to translate, discussed the dinner parties. It took the best part of half an hour to decide on the two menus and at the end of it, Bep asked her if she would buy flowers for the house.

  The florists were bursting with early spring flowers as well as great bunches of hothouse roses and carnations. She bore a great armful back to the house and spent the rest of the morning happily arranging them. Setting the last vase just so in the drawing-room, she felt a pleasant little glow; she was beginning to feel like a housewife. Once she had mastered sufficient Dutch she would be able to order the groceries and see the butcher and the greengrocer and inspect the cupboards…and Emma would arrive on Sunday. She told herself that she didn’t feel lonely or strange any more. Which wasn’t quite true.

  She was nervous about the dinner parties but she need not have been, at least for the first one. No one could have been kinder than Rauwerd’s mother and father, and Rose and Sybren treated her with the ease of long friendship, even though they hardly knew her. The evening was a success; she wore a patterned crêpe dress and the pearl choker, and the dinner was excellent. Listening to Rauwerd laughing and talking with Sybren and his father, she found herself wishing that he could talk and laugh like that with her. He treated her with charming manners and thoughtfulness but with a reserve which made an invisible barrier between them. Something which would improve with time, she told herself.

  ‘A penny for them?’ said Rose.

  ‘It’s all a bit strange,’ began Matilda.

  ‘Don’t let it get you down. I spent the first few weeks wondering if I should have married Sybren or not even though I’m crazy about him. It’s just getting used to them being important and horribly rich and quite sure of themselves. Don’t worry, it won’t last. Sybren’s the most modest of men when it comes to his fame, and Rauwerd’s the same. They take money for granted, and being venerated by students and all that.’ She beamed at Matilda. ‘I’m so happy, I can’t believe it. You are, too, only all this—’ she waved a hand round the lovely room ‘—takes a bit of getting used to. You’re coming to dine with us as soon as we can fix a date. Rauwerd has to go to Brussels this week, hasn’t he? So it’ll have to be the week after.’

  Mevrouw van Kempler joined them then, which saved Matilda answering.

  Confident that the second dinner party would be as successful as the first one, Matilda put the finishing touches to the table, put on another new dress, silvery green this time with long tight sleeves and a round low neckline which set off the pearls to perfection. Going down to the drawing-room in her new kid slippers, she felt a surge of confidence as she opened the drawing-room door.

  Rauwerd was there, sitting in his chair, laughing at something the woman sitting in her chair opposite had said. He got up as she paused in the doorway, and said easily, ‘Ah, my dear, there you are. We got here earlier than we had expected. This is Nikky van Wijk, who lives in Amsterdam.’

  The woman had got up and he touched her on the arm. ‘Nikky, my wife, Matilda.’


  She wasn’t very young—mid-thirties perhaps—but she was strikingly handsome with silver-blonde hair, cool blue eyes and regular features. She smiled charmingly as she took Matilda’s hand, but her eyes didn’t smile.

  Matilda disliked her on sight.

  ‘I’ll leave you to get to know each other,’ said Rauwerd smoothly, ‘while I change.’

  ‘You’ve known Rauwerd a long time?’ asked Nikky, still smiling.

  ‘Not long,’ said Matilda politely.

  Nikky waited for her to say something else and, when she didn’t, observed, ‘We’ve known each other for years, but of course you know that already. It’s nice of you not to mind that he’s spent so much time with me.’ She shrugged prettily. ‘I’m a fool over business. I don’t know what I’d do without Rauwerd to help me—and we have so much to talk about.’

  ‘I expect so; you’re much the same age, are you not?’ Matilda, by no means a catty girl, sharpened her claws.

  The blue eyes became very cold indeed. ‘Rauwerd is thirty-three…’

  ‘Thirty-four,’ corrected Matilda gently.

  ‘I’m a good deal younger,’ began Nikky and was interrupted by Rauwerd’s return. Hard on his heels came Professor Vouters, a dear old man she took an instant liking to. The conversation became general over their drinks and presently they went in to have dinner: clear asparagus soup, crayfish in a rich cream sauce flavoured with anchovy, a lemon sorbet before the pork fillets cooked in a madeira sauce and finally a fresh fruit salad and whipped cream.

  Professor Vouters sat back with a sigh. ‘A delicious meal, Matilda—I may call you that? Rauwerd has chosen himself an excellent wife and a very beautiful one.’ He raised his glass to her. ‘You and I must become friends. You must have time to spare while Rauwerd works, and I, alas, have more time on my hands than I would wish. You must come and visit me and I will show you our famous Hortus Botanicus gardens. There are also a number of museums, but perhaps you do not care for those?’

  He sounded so wistful that she assured him that she did.

  They talked over their coffee and presently Professor Vouters got up to go. It seemed that he lived very close by; all the same as Matilda wished him goodnight a silent Jan appeared to escort him into the street and the few hundred yards to his flat.

  ‘He must be eighty,’ remarked Nikky lightly from her seat by the fire. ‘Time he went into a home.’

  Matilda was pleased to see the look of annoyance on Rauwerd’s face. ‘Certainly not! His brain is as clear as yours or mine—clearer, probably.’

  ‘I forgot that he was one of your fans, Rauwerd!’ She sat up gracefully. ‘I’ve had a lovely evening, but I should get back.’ She smiled at Matilda. ‘You don’t mind if Rauwerd runs me home? Silly little me can’t drive a car.’

  She turned to Rauwerd. ‘And while you are there, will you spare five minutes to look over that tiresome paper I had from the notaris?’

  ‘A little late,’ observed Rauwerd blandly.

  ‘Not really. Good gracious, we’ve been up later than this before now. And it will save you coming tomorrow—you’ll be going to Brussels…’

  Just as though I weren’t here, fumed Matilda silently, and smiled a little too brightly. Matters were getting out of hand; a little talk might clear the air—that was, she thought sourly, if he could spare the time between seeing to Nikky’s affairs and going to Brussels!

  She bade her guest goodnight in a serene voice and expressed the hope that they might meet again very soon, aware that Rauwerd was looking at her in his disconcertingly direct way. She bade him goodnight, too, and wished she hadn’t when she saw Nikky’s nasty little smile.

  Perhaps, being such an old friend, Nikky knew all about their marriage. She dismissed the thought as unworthy of Rauwerd.

  It was absurd to imagine that she was jealous. All the same, she lay awake until she heard the car return.

  At breakfast Rauwerd told her that he would be in Brussels for the whole of the day. ‘I should get back in the evening,’ he told her, ‘but don’t wait dinner for me.’

  She said coldly, ‘Yes, Rose and your friend Nikky told me that you would be there. Would you like a meal left for you?’

  ‘Coffee, perhaps, and some sandwiches.’ He added silkily, ‘I should have told you, but I’m not used to having a wife.’

  Matilda buttered a roll. ‘No. Emma gets here tomorrow, doesn’t she?’

  ‘I hadn’t forgotten. We’ll meet her at Schiphol. The plane gets in at five o’clock.’

  He gathered up his post and got to his feet. ‘I’ll be home about ten o’clock.’ He stood looking at her. ‘Months ago I accepted an invitation to a seminar in Las Palmas. Would you like to go with me? I could manage a week’s holiday added on to the week’s seminar.’

  He strolled to the door. ‘Think about it,’ he suggested, ‘and let me know this evening.’

  She could have told him then and there. Of course she would go, and not just because it would be marvellous to spend two weeks in the sun. Las Palmas was a long way from Leiden; it was also a long way from Amsterdam and Nikky.

  CHAPTER SIX

  MATILDA began her morning’s routine: the flowers, shopping with Bep at her elbow to help with the difficult bits and then a walk with Dickens who, of course, had had to stay at home. Once these tasks were done, she had leisure to sit down and think about the trip to Las Palmas. Rauwerd hadn’t told her when it would be but she would need clothes. She found paper and pen and made a list, a pleasant occupation which kept her occupied until lunchtime.

  She had an unexpected visit from Rauwerd’s mother in the afternoon. ‘I should have telephoned you, my dear,’ said that lady, ‘but I had a sudden impulse to come and see you and have a chat. We so enjoyed ourselves the other evening and I am so glad that you have Rose Werdmer ter Sane for a friend. She is a dear girl.’ She settled herself comfortably and said that yes, she would indeed stay for tea. ‘Rauwerd will be home?’ she asked.

  ‘No, he is in Brussels. But he will be back later on this evening.’

  ‘He’s a busy man, what with his practice and the hospital beds he has. And now this lecturing. You feel lonely, Matilda?’

  ‘Well, no. You see, everything is strange to me; I go shopping with Bep and take Dickens for a walk when he hasn’t gone with Rauwerd; and I like doing the flowers—and in a house as large as this one, that takes some time. I am now to start Dutch lessons, too…’

  She poured the tea and they sipped it in pleasant friendliness. ‘We had Professor Vouters to dinner yesterday—I liked him—and a friend of Rauwerd’s, Nikky van Wijk.’

  Mevrouw van Kempler bit into a wafer-thin biscuit. ‘Ah, yes, a striking-looking woman, I always think.’

  ‘Oh, very, and so beautifully dressed. I’ve always envied that kind of silvery fair hair.’

  ‘Out of a bottle,’ said Mevrouw van Kempler, surprisingly.

  Matilda stifled a giggle and then said soberly, ‘I mean to like her because she is such an old friend of Rauwerd’s. I think she’s very clever and that is nice for him. I mean, he is clever, too, isn’t he?’

  ‘Oh, very,’ agreed his mother, ‘but not with everything, my dear.’

  There didn’t seem to be anything to say to that. Matilda said chattily, ‘He is going to Las Palmas and I’m to go with him. I’ve never been there; it will be lovely…’

  ‘Ah, yes. When do you go?’

  ‘I don’t know; he forgot to say.’ She added hastily, ‘He’s so very busy.’

  Mevrouw van Kempler said, ‘H’m,’ and then, ‘I must be going, my dear.’

  Matilda accompanied her outside to the street where she had parked a rather elderly Rover. She kissed Matilda briefly before she got into the car and drove away a great deal too fast.

  Matilda was about to sit down to her solitary dinner that evening when Rose telephoned them to invite them to dinner on the following Saturday. ‘Just the four of us,’ she explained, ‘so that you can get to know us a bit bett
er. Eight o’clock—we’ll expect you unless something crops up.’

  Rauwerd got home just before ten o’clock. He looked tired and she hurried to get the coffee and sandwiches Bep had left ready in the kitchen. He was surprised when she came into the room with the tray. ‘Where is Bep? Or Jan?’

  ‘I told them to go to bed—they have a long day, you know. I was wondering what there would be for Emma to do when she comes, but she’s just what is needed—another pair of hands.’

  She poured his coffee and handed him the plate of sandwiches.

  ‘Should we have some more staff? Aren’t there two maids who come in each day?’

  ‘Yes, but they go at six o’clock and they don’t come at all on Sundays. That is where Emma is going to fill a gap. They’ll be glad of some help and she’ll be so pleased to have a job.’ She went and sat down opposite him. ‘Did you have a successful day?’

  He nodded. And that was to be all, she realised.

  ‘Rose has asked us to dinner next Saturday—just us and them. She said to let her know if you couldn’t make it.’

  ‘I should be free. I try to keep the weekends open, though I don’t always succeed. Do you want to do anything tomorrow other than fetching Emma?’

  ‘No, thank you.’

  ‘Then we’ll go to morning church and have a lazy day until we leave for Schiphol. I forgot to tell you that I’ve asked your teacher to come for drinks before lunch tomorrow—you can get to know each other. He’d like to start this week, if that’s all right with you.’

  ‘I’ll be glad to start.’ She poured more coffee. ‘Rauwerd, this trip to Las Palmas, when will it be?’

  ‘Two weeks’ time. You’ll need clothes. We shall fly over and stay until the seminar is over, then have a week off.’

  ‘I shall enjoy that. Will it be warm there?’

  ‘Pleasantly so, I hope. But take something warm to wear if we go into the mountains.’

  He sounded faintly bored, and she made haste to change the conversation. ‘Your mother came to tea. It was very pleasant.’