The Secret Pool. Бетти Нилс
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of effort on her part for he didn’t seem to notice her stand-offish manner. To her polite enquiries as to his morning, he had little to say, but launched into casual questions. When was she returning home? What did she think of Holland? Did she find the language difficult to understand? And then, harshly, did she feel at her ease with Lisa?
Fran turned to look at him in astonishment. ‘At ease? Why ever shouldn’t I? She’s a darling child and the greatest fun to be with. I like children.’ She sounded so indignant that he said instantly, ‘I’m sorry, I put that badly.’ He turned the car into the drive. ‘A picnic tea, don’t you think? It’s such a lovely day.’ And, as she got out of the car, ‘It would be nice, if you are free tomorrow, if you will come with us to the Veluwe—it’s charming, rather like your New Forest, and Lisa sees fairies behind every tree. We’ll fetch you about half past ten?’
‘I haven’t said I’ll come,’ observed Fran frostily, half in and half out of the car.
‘Lisa wants you.’
And that’s the kind of left-handed compliment a girl likes having, thought Fran, marching ahead of him up the steps, her ordinary nose in the air.
But she forgot all that when Lisa joined them; in no time at all, she was laughing as happily as the little girl, struggling with the Dutch Lisa insisted upon her trying out. They had tea on the lawn again and when Nanny came to fetch Lisa to bed, Fran went, too, invited by both Nanny and the child.
Being got ready for bed was a protracted business dealt with by Nanny with enviable competence. But it was fun, too. Fran fetched and carried and had a satisfactory conversation with Nanny even though they both spoke their own language for the most part. They sat on each side of Lisa while she ate her supper and then at last was carried to her small bed in the charming nursery. Here Fran kissed her good night and went back to the day nursery, because it was Nanny’s right to tuck her little charge up in bed and give her a final hug. She had just joined Fran when the doctor came in, said something to Nanny and went through to the night nursery where there was presently a good deal of giggling and murmuring before he came back.
He talked to Nanny briefly, wished her good night and swept Fran downstairs.
They had drinks by the open windows in the drawing room and presently dined. Fran, who was hungry, ate with a good appetite, thinking how splendid it must be to have a super cook to serve such food and someone like Tuggs to appear at your elbow whenever you wanted something. They didn’t talk much, but their silences were restful; the doctor wasn’t a man you needed to chat to, thank heaven.
They had their coffee outside in the still warm garden, with the sky darkening and the faint scent of the roses which crowded around the lawn mingling with the coffee. She sighed and the doctor asked, ‘What are you thinking, Francesca?’
‘That it’s very romantic and what a pity it’s quite wasted on us.’
She couldn’t see his face, but his voice was casual. ‘We are perhaps beyond the age of romance.’
She snapped back before she could stop herself, ‘I’m twenty-five!’
‘On October the third you will be twenty-six. I shall be thirty-seven in December.’
‘However did you know?’ began Fran.
‘I made it my business to find out.’ His voice was so mild that she choked back several tart remarks fighting for utterance.
‘More coffee?’ she asked finally.
Their day in the Veluwe was a success: the doctor might be a tiresome man but he was a splendid father and, when he chose to be, a good host. They drove through the narrow lanes criss-crossing the Veluwe and picnicked in a charming clearing with the sunshine filtering through the trees and numerous birds. The food was delicious: tiny sausage rolls, bite-size sandwiches, chicken vol-au-vents, hard-boiled eggs, crisp rolls and orange squash to wash them down. Fran, watching Lisa, saw that she ate very little and presently, tucked in her chair, she fell asleep.
When she woke up, they drove on, circling round to avoid the main roads and getting back in time for a rather late tea. This time the doctor was called away to the telephone and returned to say that he would have to go to Utrecht that evening. Fran said at once, ‘Then if you’ll give me a lift to the city I’ll get a bus.’
‘Certainly not.’ He sat down beside Lisa and explained at some length and then said, ‘Lisa quite understands—this often happens. We’ll get Nanny and say good night and leave at once; there will be plenty of time to drive you to your cousin’s flat.’
And nothing she could say would alter his plans.
It was two days before she saw him again. Pleasant enough, pottering around with Clare, going out for a quiet drive in the evenings when Karel got home, all the same she felt a tingle of pleasure when the doctor telephoned. She had only two days left and she was beginning to think that she wouldn’t see him or Lisa again.
‘A farewell tea party,’ he explained. ‘I’ll pick you up on my way back from Zeist—about two o’clock.’
He hung up and her pleasure turned to peevishness. ‘Arrogant man!’
All the same she greeted him pleasantly when he arrived, listened to his small talk as they drove towards his home and took care not to mention the fact that in two days’ time she would be gone. He knew, anyway, she reminded herself; it was to be a farewell tea party.
Lisa was waiting for them, sitting in her chair under the mulberry tree. She wound her arms round Fran’s neck, chattering away excitedly. ‘Is it a birthday or something?’ asked Fran. ‘There’s such an air of excitement.’
Father and daughter exchanged glances. ‘You shall know in good time,’ said the doctor blandly.
They took their time over tea, talking in a muddled but satisfactory way with Fran struggling with her handful of Dutch words and the doctor patiently translating for them both. But presently Nanny arrived and Lisa went with her without a word of protest.
‘I’ll see her to say goodbye?’ she asked, turning to wave.
Dr van Rijgen didn’t answer that. He said instead, in a perfectly ordinary voice, ‘I should like you to marry me, Francesca.’
She sat up with a startled yelp and he said at once, ‘No, be good enough to hear me out. May I say at once that it is not for the usual reasons that I wish to marry you; since Lisa was able to talk she has begged me for a mama of her own. Needless to say I began a search for such a person but none of my women friends were suitable. Oh, they were kind and pleasant to Lisa but they shrank from contact with her. Besides, she didn’t like any of them. You see, she had formed her own ideas of an ideal mama—someone small and gentle and mouselike, who would laugh with her and never call her a poor little girl. When I saw you at the prize giving at the Infirmary I realised that you were exactly her ideal. I arranged these days together so that you might get to know her—needless to say, you are perfect in her eyes…’
‘The nerve, the sheer nerve!’ said Fran in a strong voice. ‘How can you dare…?’
‘I think I told you that I would do anything for Lisa to keep her happy until she dies. I meant it. She has six months at the outside and you have fifty—sixty years ahead of you. Do you grudge a few months of happiness to her? Of course, it will be a marriage in name only and when the time comes,’ his voice was suddenly harsh, ‘the marriage can be annulled without fuss and you will be free to resume your career. I shall see that it doesn’t suffer on our account.’
Fran gazed at him, speechless. She was more than surprised; she was flabbergasted. Presently, since the silence had become lengthy, she said, ‘It’s ridiculous, and even if I were to consider it, I’d need time to decide.’
‘There is nothing ridiculous about it if you ignore your own feelings on the matter, and there is no time. Lisa is waiting for us to go to the nursery.’
‘And supposing I refuse?’
He