Esmeralda Part 16

"That sounds nice. Drink up your champagne and I'll leave you to dream about it. Did my mother come?"

She told him; she told him about the flowers too and the telephone calls and added contritely, her tongue tripping ever so slightly: "You've had an awful day, Octavius told me. You must be very tired and here's me just sitting here babbling about clothes..." She put her gla.s.s down carefully.

"This champagne is very strong."

He laughed.

"So one is led to believe. Good night, Esmeralda, I'll see you at your desk tomorrow." He picked up the bottle and gla.s.ses and piled them neatly into the bucket, bent to kiss her s.h.i.+ny little face, and went away.

She listened to his quiet, unhurried tread going down the corridor until she couldn't hear it any more and closed her eyes. She was sound asleep when Anna came in ten minutes later to switch her lamp off.

At the end of the week, thinking back over the days, Esmeralda found herself with mixed feelings. It had had its good moments--buying shoes, for instance; several pairs. Pretty shoes, some of which she wouldn't be able to wear for a little while; all the same, they looked good standing at the bottom of the cupboard, and as for the rather more sensible ones she had been advised to purchase, at least they were dainty with no ugly built-up sole.

And then the delight of walking properly; she wondered if anyone knew quite how much that mattered; one took one's feet for granted. But there were moments which hadn't-been so good--at the end of the day, when her foot had ached and she had worried herself almost sick wondering if something had gone wrong, only to discover in the morning that everything was just as it should be, and then Mr. Bamstra's cool manner towards her. They had seemed the firmest of friends, drinking their champagne together; he had offered her a lift home and suggested that they might go to the ball together, but not another word had she heard from him, beyond "Good morning, Esmeralda," and "Good afternoon, Esmeralda' and when he examined her foot, the routine enquiries as to its behaviour were those which he must have uttered a hundred times to a hundred patients. It surprised her all the more, therefore, when on the Friday evening, with the last patient gone and Ciska changing the covers on the couch in the examination room, he should come from his consulting room and stop at her desk.

"You put a call through from Loveday just now," he remarked, as indeed she had.

"She wanted to know if you would like to go and see them this weekend. I said I would ask you. We might drive up tomorrow morning early and come back here on Sunday evening. That should give you ample time to get your things together."

Esmeralda looked at him in utter amazement.

"Oh, I didn't know--that is, you haven't said... When are we going to England, then?"

He gave a most convincing start.

"Heavens above, did I not speak to you about it? I have a seminar on Tuesday afternoon, in London, of course--if you would care to travel with me on Monday? I will take you home, of course. I neglected to tell you about the ball, too. It's on the Sat.u.r.day of next week--could you manage toer--fit yourself out by then?"

The dimmed but ever-present vision of the perfect ball gown became suddenly very real.

"Oh, yes--I know exactly what I want." Her eyes sparkled.

"And slippers..."

He was kind enough to give her a few seconds in which to contemplate these delights before saying briskly: "Good, that's settled. Can you be ready by nine o'clock tomorrow? Loveday and Adam will be disappointed if you go back to England without seeing them--that is unless you had other plans?"

She shook her neat head, careful to match his casual manner with her own calm voice, although she was bursting with excitement.

"None--but I should like to say goodbye to your mother."

"She is away staying with a sick friend, but will be back by Sunday.

She expects us then. "

She had to admit that everything was falling into place, almost as though it were a well-laid plan, but that of course was nonsense. Even as she was thinking that, he dropped the last piece of the jigsaw of their plans into place by saying: "I'll drive you up to the ball if you will give me that pleasure. And now I have an engagement." He nodded briefly, called something to Ciska, and went away, into a life about which she knew precious little--and why, she asked herself in some astonishment, should she give a thought as to what he did in his spare time?

It was raining in the morning, a fine warm drizzle which didn't prevent Esmeralda wearing her pink slacks and the check blouse which matched them so exactly. She piled her hair high and tucked a pink bow into it, and with her raincoat over her arm and her overnight bag in her hand, went down to the front door.

The hospital was already well into its day. She slid past trolleys propelled by hurrying porters, patients in wheelchairs being pushed to or from this that or the other department; it might be Sat.u.r.day for the outside world, but in hospital it was a working day, like all the others. She nodded to several nurses as she pa.s.sed them, for she had a number of friends by now amongst them, but she didn't stop, for she would be back the next day to make her farewells. Besides, Thimo might be waiting.

He was, but with no sign of impatience. He enquired after her night's rest, her foot and whether she had packed her bags, and then didn't say very much, leaving her to talk if she wished to. They stopped for coffee at the same cafe at which they had stopped the first time he had driven her to Friesland; they even sat at the same table, so that she remarked thoughtfully: "Isn't it strange to think that it's all over? When we were here last time I was a little scared and wondering what was going to happen, and now it's all done with."

"And do you feel a little scared of your future now, Esmeralda?"

Of course she thought of Leslie; he seemed part and parcel of the future.

"Yes, but I won't let myself think about it yet. You're quite sure that I'll be able to dance?"

"Yes, 1 am. Perhaps not quite perfectly at the ball, but as I said, no one is going to notice that.

By the time you meet Chapman," he went on deliberately, 'your dancing will be perfection itself He smiled faintly.

"I did warn you that your foot may ache abominably?"

He turned the conversation to other topics then, and for the whole of their brief stay with Adam and Loveday, he showed no special interest in her future when it was discussed--indeed, thought Esmeralda wryly, Adam and Loveday seemed far more interested in what she intended to do. His att.i.tude was that of a polite acquaintance, only showing interest because it was the right thing to do, so that after Loveday's first rush of questions, Esmeralda tried not to talk about herself at all. She hadn't even mentioned the ball and Thimo certainly hadn't--indeed, he had made only brief mention of the fact that he was taking her back to England. Out of sight, out of mind, she told herself grumpily, not caring that the quotation didn't fit at all. But it would never do to let him see that she was put out; she chattered about everything under the sun as they drove back to Leiden and when they arrived at his mother's house, thanked him prettily for the drive, enlarged on the charm of the scenery, the delightful weather and the comfort of the car. Her companion acknowledged this speech with a few gravely appreciative words of his own as he put his key in the door, his eyes dancing with an amus.e.m.e.nt she didn't see, and his manner towards her remained gravely friendly for the rest of the evening, reminding her forcibly of an elder brother or someone equally uninteresting. She bade her hostess goodbye with some reluctance, for she liked the old lady very much and doubted if she would see her again. As she kissed the gentle face she said: "Mother would have liked to have met you, Mevrouw. I think you would have got on famously."

"We did," said Jonkvrouw Bamstra surprisingly, 'we thoroughly enjoyed each other's company. "

Esmeralda gaped at her.

"But Mother never said..."

It was Thimo who answered easily: "Your mother had you to worry about, I don't suppose she thought of much else."

Esmeralda was quite prepared to get to the bottom of the matter. Her mother had had plenty of opportunity to tell her she had met Thimo's mother; she opened her mouth to say so, but before she could say anything she was swept back to hospital and told to go to bed and sleep well in preparation for their journey the next day. She thought about it for a little while before she went to sleep and came to the conclusion that as she would be seeing her mother very shortly she could ask her all the questions she had a mind to then, unless Thimo proved to be more forthcoming on their way home.

CHAPTER TEN.

their journey back together was altogether unexciting. Thimo, far from being forthcoming, was more like an older brother than ever, and although he looked to her comfort with flattering attention, he showed no disposition to resume their strangely close friends.h.i.+p when she had been in hospital as his patient. Esmeralda sighed and buried herself in her book, and when she peeped at him from time to time, it was. to find him deep in notes or writing sheaves of them in his turn. Clearly he was happy in his work and didn't need her society. She looked out of the window at the calm sea and thought about the gorgeous dress she was going to buy; she would wear it at the ball and then, given the opportunity, wear it again, and on the second occasion it would be Leslie who would see it. Of course she hadn't the slightest idea how she was going to engineer such a meeting; she would have to rely on a miracle, like Thimo.

She closed her eyes and dozed then until the Hovercraft arrived at Dover and they began the last stage of their journey. The Bristol made light work of the hundred and fifty miles they had to go. Esmeralda had telephoned her mother to expect them about six o'clock, and it wanted five minutes to that hour as Thimo turned the car into the manor house gates.

Hours later, lying in her own bed in her own room once more, she contemplated the evening. There had been a tremendous welcome, of course, with her mother weeping a little and exclaiming over her marvelous foot, and Nanny for once almost bereft of words. They had both thanked Thimo, and he had been charming and diffident and declared that without his patient's cooperation he would never have succeeded, a piece of nonsense which made them all laugh while he obligingly opened the champagne waiting for them. He had stayed to supper too, and although Nanny had roundly refused to sit down to table with them, saying firmly that she knew her place, foot or no foot, she had elected to serve the meal herself, so that she was able to enter into any part of the conversation which drew her particular attention.

It was late when Thimo left, refusing Mrs. Jones' invitation to spend the night, as he had arranged to stay with Mr. Peters.

"He's up until all hours," he had explained easily, 'and I shall get there by one o'clock. " He had bidden them all goodbye with his usual placid charm, reminded Esmeralda that he would call for her on the following Sat.u.r.day, got into his car, and driven off.

"Such a nice man," her mother had remarked as they had gone upstairs to bed, and had looked a little worried.

"I don't suppose that you had the opportunity to get to know each other very well, darling?"

There had been opportunity enough, but it was difficult to get to know someone who didn't want you to, anyway. Esmeralda eased her foot under the bedclothes and wondered if he had arrived safely at Mr. Peters' house, and what he was going to do all the week. She knew about the seminar, but it wouldn't go on all day and every day. She turned over, pus.h.i.+ng and tugging her pillows impatiently, annoyed that she wasn't already asleep, trying to forget that once Mr. Bamstra went back to Holland, she would probably not see him again. If she had stayed at Trent's she might have done so, but she had left, hadn't she? She felt all at once lost; even thinking about Leslie didn't help very much, and it was quite some time before she fell into a troubled sleep.

She spent two days at home, being delightfully spoilt, and on the third morning got into her mother's car and drove her mother and herself up to London, where the two of them spent a delightful day choosing an extravagant but absolutely right outfit for the ball, which left her with two days in which to practise her dancing and carry out such beauty treatments as might be expected to enhance her appearance for the ball.

She was dressed and waiting when Thimo arrived on Sat.u.r.day, a little nervous because she hadn't really had much time to perfect her dancing but happy and excited too, and somehow, when she saw him crossing the hall towards her, her feelings rolled themselves into one glorious upsurge of delight.

"Oh, you do look super!" she cried before he could say a word. She eyed his subdued magnificence; white tie, tails, gleaming shoes.

"What's that medal ribbon round your neck?"

He had come to a halt a few feet from her.

"That? Oh, nothing much.

Now, stand still so that I can take a good look. "

She stood, feeling shy under his intent gaze, and then smiled widely at his: "Enchanting--a fairy princess, no less. Now the feet..."

Esmeralda lifted her long wide skirts and he came a little nearer to study her satin slippers and nod his approval.

"They'll do--not too high in the heel and well cut. All the same, your foot will give you h.e.l.l before the night's out." He grinned suddenly.

"But it will be worth it."

She agreed happily, her pleasure a little dimmed because he looked so tired--no, tired wasn't the word, preoccupied. There was something on his mind, she felt sure.

But there was no sign of that as they took their leave of her mother and Nanny, and on the drive to London he made no attempt to be serious about anything. If Esmeralda hadn't been so excited at the prospect of the evening ahead of her, she might have felt disappointment that he seemed so uninterested about her plans, but she had no intention of allowing melancholy thoughts to spoil the next few hours.

So she was as gay as he was and was only shocked to sudden silence when she saw that he was threading the streets close to Trent's, and when he slowed the car and turned into the hospital forecourt, she exclaimed: "Not here, surely?"

"Did I not tell you?" Mr. Bamstra was so deeply astonished that she looked at him suspiciously.

"No, you didn't," she began sharply, and then felt mean because the look on his face was so guiltless.

"I expect you meant to," she conceded hastily.

"If you've been busy it could have slipped your memory quite easily."

He agreed meekly and forbore from mentioning that he was renowned for having the memory of an elephant. He drew up exactly in front of the hospital entrance, helped her out, escorted her into the entrance hall and told her not to move from it until he returned. She stood at one of the windows, watching him park the Bristol in the s.p.a.ce reserved for the VIPs, and admired him as he crossed the courtyard to rejoin her.

"Do you want to do things to your hair?" he enquired.

"It looks delightful to me, but women are never satisfied with their appearance."

Emeralda swallowed this high-handed statement about her s.e.x and said meekly that yes, she would join him in a very few minutes. She had no intention of trailing round the ballroom with the white marabou wrap her mother had given her swathed about her person, but he couldn't be expected to know that. It took her only a moment to cast it down in the room set aside for the lady guests, and present herself once more before him.

"I'm ready," she said rather breathlessly.

"Ah, yes and very nice too. By the way, I should have mentioned that young Chapman is on holiday, or so I heard. I hope you aren't too disappointed."

They were walking slowly down the wide corridor which led to the lecture hall where the ball was already in full swing. She said, too quickly: "Oh, no of course not. If he were here, I'd be...1 might not dance as well as I should like to."

He seemed to understand, for smiling down at her, he said: "Well, let's put it to the test, shall we?" and took to the floor.

He was a good dancer, nothing fancy, but a kind of casual perfection which singled him out at once in the crowded room besides, he was head and shoulders taller than any other man there. Esmeralda, nervous to begin with, began to enjoy herself. True, her foot was just a little pinched in its elegant slipper, but that was a small price to pay for the looks of admiration being cast in her direction. Her ordinary face might lack conventional beauty, but there was no denying that the Gina Fratini dress, its creamy silk gauze and lace cunningly threaded with satin ribbons which exactly matched her eyes, was drawing a good deal of attention.

She said to the broad expanse of Mr. Bamstra's s.h.i.+rt front: "You do dance beautifully--you won't do any complicated steps, will you?"

The s.h.i.+rt front bulged with his rumble of laughter.

"I don't know any." He added thoughtfully: "But that shouldn't worry a fairy princess."

She looked up to smile at him, feeling really very happy and with the strange idea that if he hadn't been there, she wouldn't have felt happy at all. She dismissed it as pure nonsense and then forgot about it, because she had just seen Leslie through a gap in the dancers. He had seen her too, and the expression on his face more than made up for the weeks of clumping around in a plaster; it was a mixture of amazement, chagrin and speculation. Esmeralda gave him a gracious smile and said in a breathless whisper: "Leslie's here--he's actually here!"

Mr. Bamstra's voice was unbelievably placid.

"Yes, I know--I saw him some minutes ago."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"And have you come over all self-conscious and tread on my toes?"

She giggled and then asked urgently: "What shall I do? Oh, please, Thimo..."

His voice, way above her head, was calmly rea.s.suring.

"He will ask you to dance, so dance, my dear--enchant him, weave a spell around him, capture his heart." His sigh was so faint that she didn't hear it.

"You can, you know."

She stared at the pearl studs in his s.h.i.+rt front. They were very plain, not very large and undoubtedly genuine; she registered the fact while she allowed his words to roll around inside her head. For some reason they made her feel sad and uncertain, and probably she would have told him so if the music hadn't come to an end just then. They stood side by side, clapping and telling each other what a good band it was, when Leslie joined them.

He ignored Mr. Bamstra.

"Esmeralda," his voice held all the delight and excitement a girl could have wished for, 'how marvelous you look! I hardly dared to speak to you, but I had to--all that nonsense. " He paused and said dramatically: " I missed you so. "

The boyish smile was there to charm her, only she wasn't charmed; it was extraordinary, but she felt none of the feelings which she had expected to feel. Perhaps, she told herself uncertainly, she was numb with delight. She greeted him quietly and added: "I didn't expect to see you here," then turned round to include Mr. Bamstra in the conversation and was shattered when, before she could utter another word, he excused himself with a smile and disappeared into the crowds around them. It was like having something solid and familiar against which one had always leaned removed suddenly, leaving one flat on one's back.

There was nothing left to do but accept Leslie's invitation to dance.

He held her rather too closely, and Esmeralda didn't like it. He talked incessantly into her ear, a mixture of charming apology, fulsome compliments and instant plans for the future. They had circled the room twice when all at once she broke away from him, and without a word made her way to the side of the ballroom, and when he followed her, plucking at her arm to stop her, she shook him off impatiently.

"But, Esmeralda, you can't..."

"Go away, do," she begged him vexedly, and left him standing while she threaded her way through the fringe of the dancers, looking for Thimo.

And heaven knew he should have been easy enough to find; he was large enough--but she couldn't see him anywhere, and when she b.u.mped into Mr.

Peters she didn't stand on ceremony with him but asked quite distractedly, "Have you seen him? Mr. Bamstra? He was here a minute ago and now I've lost him--oh, you surely must know where he is?"

She clutched desperately at his sleeve and he gave her a long, thoughtful look.