Cassandra By Chance

Mr van Manfeld crossed one long leg over the other. ‘Another thing I like about you, dear Miss Darling, is your direct approach. I came because I wanted to see you again—er—figuratively speaking, of course. I am selfish, full of self-pity and evil-tempered, but I enjoy your company, therefore I force myself—and Jan—upon you, since you aren’t civil enough to answer my notes.’

‘Civil!’ Cassandra’s voice was shrill with annoyance. ‘Whatever next—when I took the trouble to walk up to your cottage on Friday and you didn’t so much as offer me a cup of tea…’

‘Tea?’ interrupted Mr van Manfeld. ‘That would be delightful. I was only saying to Jan that perhaps a little female society might do us both good.’

‘How right you are!’ exploded Cassandra. ‘But don’t count on me being the female.’

He had stretched out in his chair and one of the cats had got on to his knee. He was stroking her with a large square hand—a surgeon’s hand. ‘But you are very female, Miss Darling. You are as bold as a lion and just as rude as I am when occasion demands. Besides, Jan and I find your cakes delicious. Do you suppose we might enter into an uneasy friendship?’

She had to laugh. She had never met anyone like him before; she wondered what he was really like behind that façade he had built up—a façade to protect him from pity. She wondered for the hundredth time what kind of accident he had had. She got up and went and stood in front of him and held out her hand. ‘All right,’ she said, ‘an uneasy friendship, but don’t expect me to be a doormat for you to wipe your rages on, because I won’t.’

He shook her hand gravely, ‘I think you are hoaxing me,’ he remarked. ‘Only a pretty girl would speak with so much confidence. I find it an incentive to regain my sight as quickly as possible.’

‘No,’ she declared positively, ‘you mustn’t think that, because I’m plain—I told you so.’ She appealed to Jan: ‘I am, aren’t I?’

The black eyes were amused. ‘I have described you to Mijnheer, miss, so there is no need for me to do so again.’

‘There, you see?’ she inquired of the ogre, who said instantly and with gentle blandness: ‘No, I don’t see, but I have great faith in Jan.’

‘Oh, I am sorry,’ said Cassandra contritely. ‘I keep forgetting, you must think me a hard-hearted, uncaring person.’

‘No, I don’t think that at all.’ He smiled, which delighted her so much that she said at once: ‘You’ll stay for tea, won’t you? The children will be out of school in half an hour, if you don’t mind sitting here while I fetch them? I don’t like them to be out alone, I know it’s not far, but I feel I should be extra careful of them. Rachel—my sister—would never forgive me.’

‘We should very much like to stay, and Jan will fetch the children, won’t you, Jan? They know him, I believe—they meet in the shop.’

Which remark put her in mind of the inadequate purchases Jan made. Mr van Manfeld didn’t look poor, but then there were some people who never did, preferring to starve than tell anyone. She wondered what they had eaten for their dinner, and decided to add a plate of sandwiches to the hot buttered toast and the cake. Her thoughts were interrupted by her guest inquiring the name of her training school in London, and when she had told him, he went on to ask where her home was, and when she explained that she hadn’t got one, looked taken aback. ‘And where do you go for your holidays?’ he wanted to know.

‘To Rachel and Tom, only they came up here to live a year ago so that Tom could get his book finished—it was a bit far away, but now I’m here for six weeks while they are in Greece. Besides, it’s wonderful for me, because I’d planned to leave Duke’s and take my midwifery.’

‘When?’

‘When Rachel and Tom come home.’

‘Have you already applied?’

She was surprised at his interest, but perhaps he welcomed the chance to talk about something different. She answered readily enough: ‘No—at least, I applied months ago and I have to let them know by the end of the month.’

‘Three weeks’ time.’

‘Yes. You ask a lot of questions.’

‘Meaning it’s your turn? Well?’

‘Where do you come from? You’re not English, although you speak it perfectly. I think you’re Dutch.’

He inclined his head. ‘You are correct, my dear Miss Darling. I come from Utrecht, or rather, that is where I do most of my work. My home is in a small town called Rhenen, on the north bank of the Rhine.’

‘A pretty name—is it a pretty place?’

‘I think so.’

It was apparent that she had been allowed her quota of questions. She got up, saying: ‘Will Jan really not mind fetching the children? If not, I can go.’ She smiled at the older man as she spoke and he got to his feet.

‘I should like to go. Mijnheer?’

Mr van Manfeld nodded. ‘Yes, go by all means, Jan.’

When they were alone together Cassandra made up the fire, said matter-of-factly. ‘I’m going to switch on a lamp, a small one on this side of the room. Do you want to close your eyes when I do it?’ and then, ‘I’m going to make the tea.’

‘Must you? Or is it an excuse to get away from me?’

‘Why should I want to get away from you?’ She sounded reasonable. ‘I asked you to stay for tea. I didn’t have to, you know.’

‘You’re heaping coals of fire, Miss Darling.’

‘Well, I don’t mean to,’ she declared. ‘Why were you so bad-tempered on Friday?’ She saw the look on his face and added hastily: ‘All right, you don’t have to answer, and I’m not being nosey, I just wondered.’

He stirred in his chair. ‘I had a visit from the man who is looking after my eyes—he’s pretty good in his own line. I had hoped that he would say that I might wear different glasses—that there had been some dramatic improvement. I was disappointed, and I haven’t yet acquired the patience of the blind.’

She said with quick sympathy: ‘Being a surgeon makes it much harder for you, and not knowing if you will be able to go on with your work makes it even harder, doesn’t it?’

He winced. ‘You have a knack of touching a raw wound, dear girl, even if it is with a gentle finger.’

‘I don’t mean to hurt you, truly I don’t. But cast your mind back, Mr van Manfeld. You were totally blind at first, weren’t you? And now you can see just a little, out of focus and blurred, but you can see, so you are getting better. Can’t you remember that?’

He didn’t answer her and when he spoke he sounded thoughtful. ‘I wish I could see your face.’ He smiled, and although he couldn’t see, she smiled back.

The children came tumbling into the house, excited because Jan had fetched them from school and had told them that he would be staying for tea. They came into the sitting-room, still in their outdoor clothes, and stood staring silently.

‘Come and meet the ogre, my dears,’ invited Cassandra cheerfully. ‘His name is Mr van Manfeld and he and Jan have come to call. His dark glasses make it difficult for him to see, so go and stand in front of him and shake hands.’ Her practical voice made everything normal to their childish ears. They offered hands, said how do you do in small polite voices, and Andrew asked, disappointment colouring his voice: ‘You’re not an ogre?’

‘Well, no, not a storybook ogre, I’m afraid, but I have got some very ogreish habits, and as you can see, I am a little on the large side, though small for an ogre—but I have got enormous feet.’

The children examined his heavy brogues with interest, demanding to know what size. Cassandra left them to it and went to get the tea.

Jan came to help her carry in the tea things. ‘We always have it round the fire,’ she explained. ‘I hope you won’t mind—and we’re always famished, so I hope you’ll both eat a lot.’

Which they did. She watched the plates empty and the cake diminish, while she listened to Mr van Manfeld talking nicely to the children.

She talked to Jan at the same time, polite nothings, although she would have liked to ask him about his native Poland, but perhaps he didn’t care to talk about it, so to be on the safe side she talked about the village and the country around them and listened, after a time, with real interest to his replies, because he knew a great deal about the island. She was telling him about the squirrel when Penny interrupted to say:

‘Aunt Cassandra drew him when we got home. She drew lots of mice too—she draws beautifully.’

She trotted off and came back presently with Cassandra’s sketch book and opened it for Jan to see.

‘You are talented, miss,’ he said quietly, and pushed the book towards Penny. ‘Take the book, if you please, to Mijnheer and tell him what is in it.’

She watched the two children, one each side of their visitor, telling him in a muddled chorus about the mice and when they had finished, he asked: