Caroline's Waterloo

She stammered a little. ‘I didn’t mean that—you must think I’m ungrateful, but I’m not—what I meant was it’s a bit big for me and I’d like…’

He had turned away. ‘You have no need to explain yourself, Miss Tripp. I advise you not to do too much today. The wound on your leg was deep and is not yet soundly healed.’ He had left her, feeling that she had made a mess of things again. And she had no sympathy for him at all, she assured herself; let him moulder into middle age with his books and his papers and his lectures!

With Marta’s help she dressed in a sweater and pleated skirt and was just wondering if she was to walk downstairs on her own when Noakes arrived. He held a stout stick in one hand and offered her his arm.

‘The Professor says you’re to go very slowly and lean on me,’ he advised her, ‘and take the stairs one at a time.’ He smiled at her. ‘Like an old lady,’ he added.

It took quite a time, but she didn’t mind because it gave her time to look around her as they passed from one stair to the next. The hall was even bigger than she had remembered and the room into which she was led quite took her breath away. It was lofty and square and furnished with large comfortable chairs and sofas, its walls lined with cabinets displaying silver and china and in between these, portraits in heavy frames. There was a fire in the enormous hearth and a chair drawn up to it with a small table beside it upon which was a pile of magazines and newspapers.

‘The Professor told me ter get something for yer to read, miss,’ said Noakes, ‘and I done me best. After lunch, if yer feels like it, I’ll show yer the library.’

‘Oh, Noakes, you’re all so kind, and I’ve given you all such a lot of extra work.’

He looked astonished. ‘Lor’ luv yer, miss—we enjoy ’aving yer—it’s quiet, like yer said.’

‘Yes. Noakes, I’ve heard a dog barking…’

‘That’ll be Rex, miss. ’E’s a quiet beast mostly, but ’e barks when the Professor comes in. Marta’s got a little cat too.’

‘Oh, has she? So have I—his name’s Waterloo, and my landlady’s looking after him while I’m away. It’ll be nice to see him again.’

‘Yes, miss. Juffrouw Kropp’ll bring coffee for you.’

It was indeed quiet, sitting there by herself. Caroline leafed through the newspapers and tried to get interested in the news and then turned to the magazines. It was almost lunchtime when she heard the Professor’s voice in the hall and she sat up, put a hand to her hair and then put on a cheerful face, just as though she were having the time of her life. But he didn’t come into the room. She heard his voice receding and a door shutting and presently Juffrouw Kropp brought in her lunch tray, set it on the table beside her and smilingly went away again. Caro had almost finished the delicious little meal when she heard the Professor’s voice again, speaking to Noakes as he crossed the hall and left the house.

She was taken to the library by a careful Noakes after lunch and settled into a chair by one of the circular tables in that vast apartment, but no sooner had he gone than she picked up her stick, eased herself out of her chair and began a tour of the bookshelves which lined the entire room. The books were in several languages and most of them learned ones, but there were a number of novels in English and a great many medical books in that language. But she rejected them all for a Dutch-English dictionary; it had occurred to her that since she was to spend several more days as the Professor’s guest, she might employ her time in learning a word or two of his language. She was deep in this task, muttering away to herself when Noakes brought a tea tray, arranged it by her, and asked her if she was quite comfortable.

‘Yes, Noakes, thank you—I’m teaching myself some Dutch words. But I don’t think I’m pronouncing them properly.’

‘I daresay not, miss. Tell yer what, when Juffrouw Kropp comes later, get ’er ter ’elp yer. She’s a dab hand at it. Nasty awkward language it is—took me years ter learn.’

‘But you always speak English with the Professor?’

‘That’s right, miss—comes as easy to ’im as his own language!’

Caroline ate her tea, feeling much happier now that she had something to do, and when Juffrouw Kropp came to light the lamps presently, she asked that lady to sit down for a minute and help her.

Caro had made a list of words, and now she tried them out on the housekeeper, mispronouncing them dreadfully, and then, because she was really interested, correcting them under her companion’s guidance. It whiled away the early evening until the housekeeper had to go, leaving her with the assurance that Noakes would be along presently to help her back to her room.

But it wasn’t Noakes who came in, it was the Professor, walking so quietly that she didn’t look up from her work, only said: ‘Noakes, Juffrouw Kropp has been such a help, only there’s a word here and I can’t remember…’

She looked round and stopped, because the Professor was standing quite close by, looking at her. She answered his quiet good evening cheerfully and added: ‘So sorry, I expected Noakes, he’s coming to help me up to my room. I’d have gone sooner if I’d known you were home.’

She fished the stick up from the floor beside her and stood up, gathering the dictionary and her pen and paper into an awkward bundle under one arm, only to have them removed immediately by the Professor.

He said stiffly: ‘Will you dine with me this evening? Since you are already downstairs…’

Caroline was so surprised that she didn’t answer at once, and when she did her soft voice was so hesitant that it sounded like a stammer.

‘Thank you for asking me, but I won’t, thank you.’ She put out a hand for the dictionary and he transferred it to the other hand, out of her reach.

‘Why not?’ He looked annoyed and his voice was cold.

‘You don’t really want me,’ she said frankly. ‘You said that I wasn’t to—to interfere with your life in any way and I said I wouldn’t.’ She added kindly: ‘I’m very happy, thank you, I’ve never been so spoiled in all my life.’ She held out her hand; this time he gave her the dictionary.

‘Just as you wish,’ he said with a politeness she found more daunting than coldness. He took the stick from her, then took her arm and helped her out of the room and across the hall. At the bottom of the staircase he picked her up and carried her to the wide gallery above and across it to her room. At the door, he set her down and opened it for her. His ‘Goodnight, Miss Tripp’ was quite without expression. Caroline had no way of knowing if he was relieved that she had refused his invitation or if he was angry about it. She gave him a quiet goodnight and went through the door, to undress slowly and get ready for bed; she would have a bath and have her supper in her dressing gown by the fire.

Marta came presently to help her into the bath, turn down the bed and fuss nicely round the room, and after her came one of the maids with her supper; soup and a cheese souffle with a salad on the side and a Bavarian creme to follow. Caroline didn’t think the Professor would be eating that, nor would he be drinking the home-made lemonade she was offered.

The house was very quiet when she woke the next morning and when Marta brought her her breakfast tray, she told her that Noakes had gone with the Professor to the airfield just south of the city and would bring the car back later.

‘Has the Professor gone away?’ asked Caroline, feeling unaccountably upset.

‘To England and then to Paris—he has, how do you say? the lecture.’

‘How long for?’ asked Caro.

Marta shrugged her shoulders. ‘I do not know—five, six days, perhaps longer.’

Which meant that when he came home again she would go almost at once—perhaps he wanted that. She ate her breakfast listlessly and then got herself up and dressed. Her leg was better, it hardly ached at all and neither did her head. She trundled downstairs slowly and went into the library again where she spent a busy morning conning more Dutch words. There didn’t seem much point in it, but it was something to do.

After lunch she went into the garden. It was a chilly day with the first bite of autumn in the air and Juffrouw Kropp had fastened her into a thick woollen cape which dropped around her ankles and felt rather heavy. But she was glad of it presently when she had walked a little way through the formal gardens at the side of the house and found a seat under an arch of beech. It afforded a good view of her surroundings and she looked slowly around her. The gardens stretched away on either side of her and she supposed the meadows beyond belonged to the house too, for there was a high hedge beyond them. The house stood, of red brick, mellowed with age, its many windows gleaming in the thin sunshine; it was large with an important entrance at the top of a double flight of steps, but it was very pleasant too. She could imagine it echoing to the shouts of small children and in the winter evenings its windows would glow with light and guests would stream in to spend the evening…not, of course, in reality, she thought sadly; the Professor had turned himself into a kind of hermit, excluding everyone and everything from his life except work and books. ‘I must try and make him smile,’ she said out loud, and fell to wondering how she might do that.

It was the following morning, while she was talking to Noakes as he arranged the coffee tray beside her in the library, that they fell to discussing Christmas.

‘Doesn’t the Professor have family or friends to stay?’ asked Caro.

‘No, miss. Leastways, ’e ’olds an evening party—very grand affair it is too—but ‘e ain’t got no family, not in this country. Very quiet time it is.’

‘No carols?’

Noakes shook his head. ‘More’s the pity—I like a nice carol, meself.’

Caro poured out her coffee. ‘Noakes, why shouldn’t you have them this year? There are—how many? six of you altogether, aren’t there? Couldn’t you teach everyone the words? I mean, they don’t have to know what they mean—aren’t there any Dutch carols?’

‘Plenty, miss, only it ain’t easy with no one ter play the piano. We’d sound a bit silly like.’

‘I can play. Noakes, would it be a nice idea to learn one or two carols and sing them for the Professor at Christmas—I mean, take him by surprise?’

Noakes looked dubious. Caroline put her cup down. ‘Look, Noakes, everyone loves Christmas—if you could just take him by surprise, it might make it seem more fun. Then perhaps he’d have friends to stay—or something.’

It suddenly seemed very important to her that the Professor should enjoy his Christmas, and Noakes, looking at her earnest face, found himself agreeing. ‘We could ’ave a bash, miss. There’s a piano in the drawing room and there’s one in the servants’ sitting-room.’

‘Would you mind if I played it? I wouldn’t want to intrude…’

‘Lor’ luv yer, miss, we’d be honoured.’

She went with him later that day, through the baize door at the back of the hall, down a flagstoned passage and through another door into a vast kitchen, lined with old-fashioned dressers and deep cupboards. Marta was at the kitchen table and Juffrouw Kropp was sitting in a chair by the Aga, and they looked up and smiled as she went in. Noakes guided her to a door at the end and opened it on to a very comfortably furnished room with a large table at one end, easy chairs, a TV in a corner and a piano against one wall. There was a stove halfway along the further wall and warm curtains at the windows. The Professor certainly saw to it that those who worked for him were comfortable. Caroline went over to the piano and opened it, sat down and began to play. She was by no means an accomplished pianist, but she played with feeling and real pleasure. She forgot Noakes for the moment, tinkling her way through a medley of Schubert, Mozart and Brahms until she was startled to hear him clapping and turned to see them all standing by the door watching her.