The Chain of Destiny (11 page)

Suzannah agreed smilingly. It was quite true, she reflected, half the world had no idea how the other half lived, and there was no point in enlightening Julie.

The professor patted Julie on the shoulder. ‘Be a good girl,' he begged her. ‘I'm going to see your mother now. You know where I am if you need help. Suzannah, come downstairs with me.'

In the hall he said, ‘I'll be here at nine o'clock tomorrow; that will give us a long day out.'

‘Oh, well, I thought…that is, I have to pack and look up trains and things.'

He swept an eye over her person. ‘Packing will take you half an hour, perhaps less; you haven't a very large wardrobe, have you? And you'll travel back with me—on the day ferry to Harwich—I booked you on in it.'

She goggled at him. ‘But how did you know I would be leaving?'

‘Well, of course I knew. Evert had told me that he would be coming and I was almost certain that I could discharge Julie, at least for the three months. You're no longer needed and I imagine you would wish to return to England. Unless you have some other plan?'

She shook her head. ‘No. I mean to go to Mrs Coffin, if you wouldn't mind me picking up Horace on the way?'

‘We'll talk about that tomorrow.' He studied her tweed skirt and jumper. ‘Have you a winter coat? We might want to walk tomorrow and it has turned cold.'

She went a bright pink. ‘Yes, thank you…'

‘Good. I'll see you in the morning.' He nodded goodbye and crossed the hall to the drawing-room, leaving her to stand there, relief flooding through her because she wouldn't have to worry about the journey back. Even stronger than her relief was annoyance at his careless remarks about her clothes. ‘It's all very well for him,' she muttered, going back upstairs, ‘with his Bentley and his Savile Row suits and silk ties. Arranging things to suit himself.' An unfair remark, she admitted reluctantly; he had, after all, arranged for her return.

S
UZANNAH STOOD
in front of the dressing-table looking-glass and studied her reflection. It didn't please her. Her coat was a useful brown; it had been a good one some years ago, but it was faintly threadbare around the cuffs and down the front, and the brown dress beneath it did nothing to improve her appearance. She tucked a leaf-green scarf into the collar of the coat and, cold weather or not, decided not to wear the only hat she had: brown again and presumably prudently purchased with an eye to its usefulness rather than any pretentions to fashion. At least her gloves and handbag were passable. She wished suddenly that she hadn't accepted the professor's invitation, but it was too late to change things now and, thinking about it, he hadn't given her much chance to refuse. At this very moment he might be wishing that he wasn't to be saddled with her for a whole day.

His thoughts weren't quite as drastic as that; but as he drove through den Haag to pick her up he wondered why on earth he had asked her out. They had never had a real conversation, and for all he knew she would be tongue-tied, or, worse, chatty, and yet he found himself wishing to know more about her. And her eyes were
beautiful. He thumped the door-knocker of the van Dijls' house and went in.

Suzannah came down the stairs, outwardly calm. She had been to see Julie, sitting up in bed enjoying her breakfast, and that young lady had thoughtlessly remarked that brown was all the wrong colour for Suzannah. ‘You should wear green or that lovely greeny-blue tweed', she observed blithely, ‘and of course you could wear black with that hair. Still, I don't suppose Guy will take you anywhere where he'll see anyone he knows.'

Suzannah had been quite unable to answer this; she had ducked out of the room and waited a moment before going down to the hall, rather pale with suppressed rage and humiliation. She crossed the hall to where the professor was standing and said good morning in a tight little voice, wanting very much to turn and run, only he said just the right thing. ‘It's a cold, dark day and that hair of yours is like a ray of sunshine.' His smile was so warm that she found herself smiling in return, and suddenly the brown coat didn't matter at all.

In the car, sitting beside him in the greatest comfort, she was told to take the map from the pocket beside her. ‘We shall go to Utrecht and then Appeldoorn and Zwolle, Kampen Sneek, across the Isselmeer, then across to Bergen and down the coast to Haarlem, across to Hilversum, then down the river Vecht—that's a beauty spot—and back here.'

‘All in a day?'

‘Holland is a small country, and we have eight or nine hours.' He smiled at her again, and she knew that the day was going to be fun, after all.

A few miles out of den Haag, the professor turned off the motorway, drove slowly through Gouda and
took a secondary road through Oudewater, where he stopped the car to tell her about the witches' weighing scales there. She was surprised to find that he was both interesting and amusing, and when they reached Utrecht, although he didn't stop, he told her a good deal about the city as they drove through it.

Once out of the city he took another secondary road through the Veluwe, driving slowly so that she might enjoy the woods all around them, circumventing Appeldoorn and turning north to Vaasen where they stopped for coffee at a restaurant—'T Neotshuis. Its interior was spectacular and besides, close by was Kasteel Cannenburch, with its beginnings in the fourteenth century. The professor knew its history well, and over coffee he related it. ‘Such a pity that it is closed, but the grounds are open if you would like to see them?'

‘Yes, oh, yes, please,' said Suzannah, and skipped happily beside him out of the restaurant; she was feeling quite at ease despite her initial fears, and if her companion wasn't enjoying himself he was dissembling very successfully.

They drove on presently, to Zwolle and across the bridge to Kampen and then on to Sneek, where they stopped so that he might show her the harbour, crammed with yachts, and the Hoogeindster Waterpoort, an ancient water gate with two towers. She would have lingered there, for there was a great deal to see, but he whisked her back into the car and drove along narrow country roads winding beside the lakes stretching in all directions until they came to Beesterzwaag where they stopped for lunch. The hotel had a fine restaurant set in grounds which were still attractive, even at the tail end of the year. The food was delicious: smoked eel on toast, roast pheasant and red cabbage, and paper-thin
pancakes with syrup. Over coffee, the professor said, ‘We are about half-way; we shall drive over on the Afsluitdijk and cross over to the coast, the country there is pretty and the road is quiet until we reach Haarlem. We don't need to go into the town, we'll go south to Aalsmeer and turn off before we reach Hilversum and go down the river Vecht; the light will be going by then, but you will be able to see some of it. We can use the motorway from there, as it will be too dark to see any more.'

‘We've been over almost all of Holland,' said Suzannah.

‘It may seem like it to you; there are so many villages and small hidden roads still to discover.'

The weather stayed kind, although the afternoon was already darkening; the Afsluitdijk stretched unendingly, it seemed, but the Bentley made nonsense of its length. Then they were on the mainland again, taking a narrow road to the east coast. The professor had been right, it was pretty, with the sea never far off and small, isolated villages, but presently they reached the outskirts of Haarlem and turned inland on a main road now. But before they reached Hilversum he turned into a narrow, winding road running by a charming river, lined with trees and with splendid houses on either side of it; it was dusk now and they were lit, their high, wide windows uncurtained so that Suzannah longed to stop and walk up their wide driveways and peer inside. The professor knew several families living there and, seeing her interest, told her something of their history.

‘It would be very nice to live here,' said Suzannah wistfully, ‘but of course you live in England.'

He smiled a little and agreed. ‘Shall we have a cup of tea? There's a café in Loenen.'

It was beginning to rain as they left the café, and there was a mean, cold wind blowing. The day was almost over and Suzannah was aware of regret; she had loved every minute of it and, surprisingly, she had liked being with the professor, although she still harboured the suspicion that he had given her a treat to make up for the small snubs and slights she had had. He was kind, she reflected, staring ahead of her into the dark, made darker by the car's headlights. They would be back in den Haag very soon now. She would spend the evening packing—well, she amended, part of the evening, for there was very little to pack. The professor had fallen silent and she began to brood over what she should do when she got back to England. But her thoughts were brought to an end by the professor's voice.

‘I thought we might have dinner in Leidschendam, it's far too soon to go back.'

‘Oh, yes—but I'm not dressed…I thought—that is, you might meet someone you know.'

‘My dear girl, what are you talking about? I probably shall, but what has that got to do with us having dinner?'

‘I think you might be ashamed of me,' she said in a cool little voice. ‘I'm rather shabby, you know.'

His voice, very quiet, came to her through the dimness of the car.

‘You must have a very low opinion of me, Suzannah.'

‘Oh, no, I haven't, only…' She stopped just in time from telling him what Julie had said.

He finished for her, ‘Ah, Julie in one of her bad moments planted the idea in your head.' He added coldly, ‘And you believed her?'

‘Not like that, I didn't.' She was anxious to explain, because she could hear the anger in his voice. ‘I just
didn't want to embarrass you. I don't think you'd mind a bit what I was wearing, but if you saw someone you knew they might—well, be surprised. I haven't explained very well, but I'm sorry you're angry, only it's true, I wouldn't want to embarrass you, truly I wouldn't.' She sniffed, a small, forlorn sound. ‘It's been such a lovely day…'

‘Indeed it has, and we are not going to spoil it now. We will dine at our ease and discuss what you are going to do next, and I promise you that you are quite adequately dressed: Julie's idea of shabby is wearing a dress for the second time, and hardly to be taken as a general rule.'

The restaurant, when they reached it, was a splendid one, and Suzannah cast the professor a reproachful look as her coat was taken from her, revealing the brown dress. A look which he ignored, and from the way the head waiter led them to a table with deferential respect she might just as well have been wearing a couture gown and diamonds.

The restaurant was already half full, and indeed the professor nodded to several people on the way to their table, but no one stared at her. Perhaps the dress wasn't so bad, after all.

The professor asked her what she would like to drink, ordered the sherry she asked for and a
jenever
for himself, and watched her while she studied the menu. The dress
was
terrible, he thought—someone should tell her to wear green or blue or grey—but he had to admit that her ordinary face, its colour heightened with excitement and, he suspected, misgiving, had a certain appeal; certainly her eyes were beautiful and the burnished copper of her hair was quite unusual. And she was a good companion… He smiled as she glanced up and asked her what she would like to eat.

‘We had rather a large lunch,' she observed doubtfully, unaware that he had decided before they set out that he would at least give her a good lunch and dinner. Never one to do things by halves, and despite the fact that he had been regretting his invitation, he had kept faithfully to his plan.

He now found, rather to his surprise, that he was enjoying her company.

He said, ‘That was hours ago. They do a very good salmon in lobster sauce—shall we have that? And perhaps a
mousseline
of chicken with caviare for starters? And, since we are celebrating Julie's complete recovery, I think we might have some champagne, don't you?'

Suzannah, relieved not to have to decide for herself, agreed and added artlessly, ‘I had champagne once, on my mother's birthday…'

‘And how long ago was that?' he asked gently, and led her on to talk about her childhood before asking casually, ‘so what do you intend to do when you get back to England?'

It wasn't the first time he had asked her that. She reminded him that she would go to Mrs Coffin with Horace, and he said easily, ‘Have you anywhere to stay in London? It occurs to me that it might be easier and far quicker for you if you were to leave Horace with Mrs Cobb for a few more days while you find a job.'

The champagne was having its effect; for the moment at least, life was benefiting from rose-coloured spectacles. ‘Well,' said Suzannah cautiously, ‘that would be much easier, wouldn't it? I could go straight to some employment agencies…'

‘What do you have in mind?'

‘I can't do shorthand and I don't know how to be a
secretary, so I thought I'd try to get work as a receptionist at a doctor's or dentist's, but I'll take anything where I can have a room and keep Horace.'

‘You have friends in London where you can stay when we get there?'

He reflected that he had helped her twice, and it looked as though he would be doing that for a third time. He didn't know whether to be relieved or not when he replied promptly, albeit untruthfully, ‘Oh, yes. If Horace might stay until the next day with Mrs Cobb, just while I can get settled in.'

He frowned. ‘Did you not say that you would stay with Mrs Coffin until you found work?'

‘Yes, I did. But it seems a waste of time not to stay just a day or so in London first; I might get a job immediately.'

She spoke with conviction, made seemingly positive by her desire not to impose upon him a moment longer than she need. There must be lodgings somewhere in London where she could stay with Horace. Once there, even though it would be evening by then, she could say goodbye to the professor and find a place, if only for one night. Further than that she refused to think, shying away from a mental picture of her touring London with Horace in his basket, looking for work and a place in which to lay their heads. But, of course, if her search was fruitless she could get an evening train to Mrs Coffin's… She uttered a small sigh of relief and the professor wondered why, convinced that she was only telling him what she thought he would want to hear.

A patient man as well as a clever one, he began to talk about something quite different. Suzannah followed his lead so eagerly that he was more than ever sure that she was prevaricating. Time enough to find out when they got back to London. Hard on the thought came
another; there was no earthly reason why he should concern himself with her future; he was seeing her safely back, she wasn't penniless and she had assured him that she would find work without any apparent difficulty. She was a sensible girl, well-educated and able to stand on her own two feet, and he could think of no reason for feeling concern for her future.

It wasn't mentioned again; the rest of dinner passed pleasantly, the talk of any number of subjects but never of her.

It was only a short drive back to the van Dijls' house, and once there he went in with her to spend half an hour in small talk with the van Dijls and Julie. When after ten minutes or so Suzannah excused herself on the grounds of packing her things, no one attempted to stop her from doing so. Beyond a brief nod of goodnight and the warning to be ready for him when he came to fetch her in the morning, the professor had nothing to say to her save to murmur a conventional rejoinder when she thanked him for her day. Perhaps he hadn't enjoyed himself as much as she had thought he had, she mused, getting ready for bed; it was difficult to know exactly what he thought about things at times. She went to sleep feeling vaguely worried, although she wasn't at all sure why.