A Star Looks Down Part 26

Did I not tell you that I wasn't one to chat up the birds?

' She hastened to agree with him.

"Oh, I'm sure you're not, but you must go out a good deal," she waved a hand towards the house before them.

"All this.

you must have loads of friends and entertain them sometimes.

' He grinned and she went pink.

"What you want to know is whom do I entertain, isn't it, dear girl?

Set your mind at rest, I'm a very ordinary man, possessed at the moment with a lively desire to marry the girl I love and settle down.

' He put out a hand and started to take the pins out of her hair, so that it hung around her shoulders.

When he had finished he handed them to her.

"That's better, now you're beautiful.

' He smiled a little.

"There is so much I want to say to you, Beth, but I dare not, not just yet, for if I did you would imagine that I was saying it because of that conversation on the stairs which I'm not allowed to remember--and there has to be no doubt in your mind.

Do you find me too old?

' She was so surprised that she could only gape at him.

"Old?

' she managed.

"You're not even middle-aged.

' He kissed her again, very gently on her cheek.

"Good, then from this moment, Beth, will you stop thinking of me as a profess or of surgery with more money than is good for him, and call me Alexander and remind yourself every few minutes that we are going to be something more than good friends?

We have to begin somewhere, you know.

' Her head swam with the oddest mixture of thoughts, but it was no good trying to sort them out now.

She said: "Yes, Alexander," in a meek voice, only too glad that someone else was making up her mind for her.

It was rather an anticlimax when he said cheerfully: "Lunch, I think,"

and strolled with her into the house, talking about the roses on the south wall, just as though he hadn't said a single one of the exciting words tumbling round inside her head.

They lunched in a room large enough to accommodate with ease the ma.s.sive round table in its centre, with its matching chairs; an enormous sideboard upon whose polished surface was a splendid display of silver, and another hooded fireplace.

"Dreadfully old-fas.h.i.+oned," remarked the profess or as they sat down, 'but I'm oldfas.h.i.+oned myself how does it strike you?

' Beth gazed about her.

"But it's just right.

I wonder who thought of those little wall chandeliers and that gorgeous crimson wallpaper?

They're perfect!

' He leaned back in his carving chair, looking smug.

"How could anyone help but like you, dear girl--you always say the right thing at the right time.

I did.

' He talked about the house and its history while they enjoyed a delicious ratatouille followed by fillet steak, flavoured with mushrooms, garlic and some sort of sausage, and it had undoubtedly been cooked in wine.

Beth would have liked to ask, but felt too shy, and even if she did, she wasn't sure if the profess or, while appreciating good food, bothered himself much as to how it had been cooked.

She allowed him to re-fill her gla.s.s with the Chianti they were drinking, and daintily polished off the crepes souffles au citron which Silver had placed before her, while she listened to her host's quiet voice talking with affection about his home.

The wine had relaxed her by now, and she felt incapable of worrying about anything at all--it was sufficient to enjoy the moment.

They went back to the drawing room for their coffee, before spending some time in the long gallery running across the back of the house, its windows looking out on to the garden, its inner wall hung with a number of paintings, some of them a little dark and forbidding, but most of them charming family groups of sober gentlemen in a variety of bygone costumes, standing guard over their wives and children.

"Were any of them doctors or surgeons?

' she wanted to know.

"Lord, yes.

There's always been someone-mostly surgery.

' He opened a little painted door at the end of the gallery and ushered her into a small corner room with windows on two sides, cosily furnished with chintz-covered chairs and a number of small tables and cabinets.

"My mother always sat here to do her accounts," he said.

"I don't come here often-it's a large house.

Unless I have guests, I never seem to get further than my study and the dining room.

' His words conjured up a lonely life; Beth was on the point of saying so when she stopped; it would be treading on thin ice again.

That she loved him was an unchangeable fact, and he had let her see that he was attracted to her, perhaps loved her a little.

But how much?

she wondered.

He might think he was, but it might not last; her good sense told her that what to her was serious might be to him a pleasant romantic episode and nothing more.

She remarked on the charming work table by the side of the fireplace and kept the conversation firmly on antiques for the rest of the her visit.

They drove back to Willemstad after tea, with Beth almost at the end of topics of an impersonal nature to talk about and the profess or silently amused and placid.

They were half-way down the lane leading to his sister's house when he drew up, switched off the engine and turned to her.

He said gently: "It's silly to be scared, Beth.

It would be so very easy for me to convince you that your fears are non-existent--but I won't, not just yet.

' She looked at her hands resting quietly in her lap.

"I'm not scared, truly I'm not--it's difficult to explain, but you see I'm so ordinary.

If I were pretty or had loads of money or had done something quite extraordinary, it would seem more--more likely, but I'm not any of these things.

I can't imagine what you see in me, and it might not last, that's if you do.

' "Love you?

I'll tell you about that next time we see each other.

' He started the car again and without another word went into the house again, to be instantly surrounded by the children.

He left an hour later, calling goodbye to her in a casual way and without saying when they would meet again.

CHAPTER NINE.

beth spent a wakeful night, alternating between despair and wild happiness.

By the morning she knew that when the profess or came, and if he asked her, she was going to tell him that she would marry him.

He hadn't actually told her that he loved her, but that, she realized now, was because she hadn't given him the chance.

She got out of bed and looked out of the window.

It was going to be another lovely spring day, although there was a line of woolly clouds tucked into the horizon, probably early morning cloud.

She put on her slacks and a cotton s.h.i.+rt and went to see if the children were getting up.

Mevrouw Thor becke had a headache and had decided to stay in bed until lunchtime, so after breakfast Beth proposed a cycle ride to the children and an English lesson to follow and then went along to Mevrouw Thor becke's room to see if there was anything she could do for her.

There wasn't much; a little pillow shaking, the finding of some headache tablets, and some eau-de-cologne and a few instructions for Mies.

Beth drew brocade curtains close and went along to the kitchen, where she and Mies engaged themselves in conversation at which they had become expert; signs and nods and an odd word here and there.

They parted amicably ten minutes later and Beth went in search of the children.

They were nowhere to be found; she looked through the house, searched the garden and then went to see if the bicycles had gone.

They hadn't; she sighed with relief and went down the lane and into the street.

They were up to some lark of their own, probably in a shop, and they couldn't be far away.

Besides, four children could scarcely walk through the little town without being seen.

She tried several shops without success until the greengrocer pointed towards the harbour, talking volubly as he did so.

She thanked him, not having understood a word, but knowing what he meant, and crossed the road by the Stadhuis, to stand, looking left and right.

They were at the far end of the harbour, by the harbour-master's house; she could see Marineka's red jersey.

She heaved a sigh of relief and started to walk around the curve of water, to be stopped after a few yards by the dominee, wanting to know, in his careful, slow English, how Mevrouw Thor becke did and if she herself was in good health.

He was a nice old man.

Beth answered his questions without haste and managed not to look over her shoulder to see what the children were up to.

They talked for quite five minutes before she said goodbye and started off once more.

The children weren't there--and to make matters worse there were small clouds sliding across the sky to hide the sun and dim her view.

There were a great many yachts moored in the harbour and a forest of masts between her and the harbour mouth, but it was actually no distance and they were probably hiding because they had seen her.

She reached the harbour master's house and went round the patch in front of it, so that now she could see the small stretch of enclosed water and the open lock which led to the Hollandsche Diep.

The children were there all right, in the boeier, with its sails spread, already a little way from the sh.o.r.e.

Beth closed her eyes for a second, then took a calming breath before calling cheerfully: "Hi there--what about coming back before the rain starts?

' It was Dirk who answered.