The End of the Rainbow

‘Aunt Betsy, just until I can make arrangements for us to get married.’

‘Oh, I couldn’t!’ They were getting into the taxi which the doctor had prudently kept waiting. He said placidly as he got in beside her:

‘Do you dislike her so much? I admit she’s formidable in appearance, but she has the kindest heart imaginable—besides, she likes you.’

She answered him a little breathlessly; things had happened so fast that she felt at that moment that she would never catch up with them. ‘Does she? I like her too, only I thought…’

He observed unexpectedly: ‘You have never had a chance to spread your wings, have you, Olympia? I think that you will find the world full of people who will like you.’

‘Aunt Maria always told me…’ began Olympia a little unhappily.

‘Your Aunt Maria,’ said the doctor deliberately, ‘is an odious woman, bent on making you her slave for as long as she needed you and taking gross advantage of your gentle nature. She is making a fortune from that nursing home of hers, and although I grant you that it is well run and the patients cared for adequately, she does it purely for business reasons and not out of pity for her less fortunate fellow beings. She is a hard woman and you are well shot of her.’

Olympia was regarding him with an awakened interest; he had never talked like this before, he seemed suddenly a great deal younger and much more approachable.

‘But she told me that she was only just able to make ends meet—that’s why she didn’t pay me very much.’

‘How much?’

She mentioned the miserable sum and was answered by an indignant: ‘Good lord, barely enough to keep you in stockings—or is it tights?’ His eye surveyed the tweed suit. ‘So that’s why you wear that thing all the time.’

She sat up very straight, her voice tart. ‘That is very rude,’ she told him. ‘It is—was—quite a good tweed when I bought it.’

He grinned, quite unabashed. ‘I’m sorry. Does it help if I tell you that you would look nice in anything? And dear girl, since we are to be man and wife, let us be honest with each other. We are already good friends, let us remain so, with no false pride between us, and if we must, let us argue and quarrel and make it up again, just because we are friends, and more than anything else, let us enjoy each other’s company.’

Olympia received this speech with mixed feelings; the doctor sounded so very sure of himself, rather like a cook, who, having got hold of a good recipe, was convinced that come what may, it would turn out to be a success. She nodded, bolstered up by a determination to make their marriage succeed.

She was given a welcome such as she had never had before in her life. Mrs van der Graaf, it seemed, could think of nothing nicer than that Olympia should stay with her for as long as she wished. She was swept upstairs, her hostess steaming ahead of the convoy, as it were, with Olympia, flanked by Mary, and the doctor, burdened with her luggage, bringing up the rear. The stairs led to a landing with four doors. Mrs van der Graaf opened one of them and ushered her party inside. The room was not over-large, but by Olympia’s standards, the epitome of luxury. The furniture was painted white and the bed was covered with a pink satin bedspread and eider-down which looked far too magnificent for use.

There were a great many little table lamps dotted about, with frilly shades tied with velvet ribbons, and they and the curtains and carpet were of a deeper shade of pink with a delicate pattern of blue upon them. It was the sort of bedroom any girl would have loved; perhaps a little exaggerated in its prettiness, but to Olympia, fresh from her austere little room, it was perfection. She stood speechless while Mary disposed of her luggage and Mrs van der Graaf inspected the small pile of books on the bedside table, giving it her opinion that a few magazines wouldn’t come amiss. She then tweaked the counterpane into even smoother folds, begged Olympia to remove her coat and tidy herself and then come downstairs for a nice glass of sherry before lunch.

They drank it in the sitting-room and the conversation was quite impersonal, sustained almost wholly by the doctor and his aunt. Presently, however, what with the sherry and the return of her self-confidence Olympia began to join in the talk, and because both aunt and nephew shared the gift of putting people at their ease, she began to feel normal again, and not someone living in a dream, although heaven knew that life seemed strange enough at the moment. They were on the point of going in to lunch when her hostess remarked, ‘You must be wondering why I haven’t wished you happiness, Olympia, but you looked…never mind that now. But I do, child, wholeheartedly. You will both of you be very happy.’

She nodded her head in deep satisfaction and led the way to the dining-room.

The doctor left after lunch and as she had had no chance to speak to him alone, Olympia saw him preparing to leave with something like panic. He wished her good-bye matter-of-factly and added, ‘Tot ziens,’ and when she wanted to know what that had meant, said: ‘I suppose “Until we meet again” is as good a translation as any.’

‘When shall I see you?’ she wanted to know in a voice which held sudden panic.

‘This evening. I thought that we might go out and celebrate, you and I. Would you like that?’

She nodded, enchanted at the idea, then remembered unhappily: ‘I haven’t anything to wear—I couldn’t possibly go, I haven’t even got a party dress.’

He was at the door, looking very large in his coat and very reassuring too. ‘My dear, my aunt will take you out with her this afternoon and you shall choose everything you need—my wedding present to you.’

She thanked him shyly and he bent and kissed her cheek, rather awkwardly, as though he wasn’t sure about it.

The afternoon was the most wonderful she had ever known; it was as if all the birthday treats, Christmas parties and presents which she had never had, combined together to make her wildest dreams come true. They went to Harrods, driven there in an elderly Rolls-Royce by an equally elderly chauffeur, and once in the store they repaired to the Gown department where Mrs van der Graaf, apparently a well-known customer, commanded instant attention. Seated bolt upright and with the head saleswoman in close attendance, she began briskly: ‘Now, Olympia, look around you and choose a few dresses to try on.’ She peered into a little notebook she had taken from her handbag. ‘Let me see—a couple of evening dresses, I think, and something pretty for dinner—a suit and a light coat and something for the day—undies, of course—but let us get the dresses first.’

Olympia heard her out, her eyes getting rounder and rounder. She fastened them upon the saleswoman who retreated to a tactful distance while Olympia said in a frenzied whisper: ‘Mrs van der Graaf, I couldn’t possibly—I think there’s some mistake. Why, that’s several outfits, not just one, and this…’ She looked around her at the opulence of their surroundings, ‘isn’t the right department—it’s the model gowns, far too expensive.’