An Apple from Eve. Betty Neels
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‘Who on earth is that?’ she asked.
Dr Bell followed her gaze. ‘Ah, that is Diana Sibley, van Diederijk’s fiancée.’ He coughed. ‘The daughter of a baronet.’
Euphemia took a good look without actually staring. ‘She looks very conscious of the fact,’ she said softly, disliking what she saw. Miss Sibley was tall and slender to the point of boniness, with no bosom worth mentioning and a long face and a straight nose above a thin-lipped mouth cleverly concealed by the masterly application of lipstick. Her eyes were dark, and as she came nearer Euphemia, still disliking her, decided that her dark hair owed more to a good hairdresser than to nature. She was beautifully dressed and she was smiling. Euphemia thought she was cold, as cold as Dr van Diederijk; if they had children, they would be a bunch of little icicles. She giggled into her sherry and earned a cold glance from her host, which emboldened her to grin at him and then turn her back. Dr Bell looked worried for a moment and then plunged into gentle conversation until she interrupted him with: ‘I’m dreadfully sorry, that was awful of me—I hope she didn’t see me, only I thought…’
She told him about the little icicles and went on feverishly: ‘I’m talking nonsense—I shouldn’t have come. I’ve not had anything to eat since midday and I thought it would be all right, but I can’t forget…it takes a little while, doesn’t it?’
The old man took her hand. ‘My dear child, you were brave to come, your father would have been proud of you.’ He patted her hand. ‘He wouldn’t want you to grieve, you know, he wasn’t that kind of man.’
‘No, I know, and I won’t, only being here…’ She glanced round the familiar room and caught the doctor’s eye fastened upon her. He said something to his fiancée and came across the room before Euphemia could move, and Dr Bell said at once: ‘Euphemia hasn’t had anything to eat all day.’
Dr van Diederijk looked down his nose at her. ‘That would explain it,’ he said suavely. ‘We will go to the kitchen and see what can be found.’
Euphemia went red. ‘There’s no need—I was going in a few minutes…’
‘All the more reason to eat first.’ He had ushered her to the door and out into the hall while he was speaking and she was in the kitchen before she could think of an answer.
Mrs Cross was standing at the table slicing ham, and she looked up and beamed at them both as they went in. ‘There ain’t no more of them canopies,’ she observed, ‘them waiters ‘as taken the lot, but there’s all them sausages.’ She went back to her slicing. ‘Nice ter see yer both together—both being owners of the ’ouse, like.’
Euphemia picked up a sausage. ‘Dr van Diederijk rents this house, Mrs Cross. I still own it.’ She bit into the sausage with something of a snap and added as an afterthought: ‘No offence, Doctor.’
‘Trivialities do not offend me, Miss Blackstock. Pray eat all you wish. You will excuse me if I go back to my guests.’
‘Not only will I excuse you, Doctor, I don’t really mind you going in the least.’ Euphemia picked up another sausage.
‘What an abominable girl you are!’ The doctor spoke softly in a steely voice as he went away.
‘You didn’t ought ter, Miss Euphemia,’ protested Mrs Cross. “E might say ’e didn’t want the ’ouse any more, and then where are yer?’
Euphemia selected a slice of ham, wrapped it round another sausage and gobbled it down. ‘He signed a contract for a year.’
‘Such a nice young man, too,’ said Mrs Cross.
‘He’s not young, and he’s certainly not nice.’ Euphemia wandered out of the kitchen, taking an apple from a bowl on the table as she went.
She was sitting on the stairs munching it when the drawing room door opened and the doctor came out. He paused when he saw her, closed the door behind him and stood leaning against it, watching her.
‘Eve and the apple,’ he observed blandly.
‘My name is Euphemia.’ She nibbled at the core with splendid teeth.
‘I was employing a figure of speech.’
‘Oh, so who am I tempting?’
He said silkily: ‘Not me, I do assure you, Euphemia. What an extraordinary name! Diana—my fiancée—would like to meet you.’
She got to her feet, the apple core still in her hand, very conscious of her bad manners earlier on. She said formally: ‘That’s very kind of her. Is she in the drawing-room?’
For answer he opened the door and she went past him. Diana Sibley was across the room, talking to Dr Bell, although her eyes were on the door. Half way there Euphemia remembered the apple core in her hand. She paused just long enough to hand it to the doctor before advancing, smiling nicely, to meet her.
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