A Little Moonlight

They had wished each other goodnight and she had gone back to Mevrouw Blom’s house to find the evening meal already eaten, although she was given soup, pork chops, zuurkool and delicious floury potatoes by an attentive Mevrouw Blom, followed by ice-cream and coffee, while everyone else sat in the sitting-room. Her mother had been remarkably cheerful, full of her day, and beyond a perfunctory question or two as to what Serena had done, she had little interest in it. But Serena hadn’t minded, it was a relief to find that her mother was actually enjoying herself. There was no trace of boredom and no complaints of headaches or tiredness—indeed, she was the life and soul of everyone there, and barely noticed when Serena after an hour or so slipped away to her bed. It was nice to see her mother so happy, she thought sleepily, and that nice Mr Harding had been very kind, taking her mother into the heart of the city and showing her where all the best shops were. Serena, curled up in her comfortable bed, went to sleep.

By the end of the week she had to admit that she was enjoying herself. It was all work, but interesting, and she hardly noticed that she had very little leisure. Dr ter Feulen was a glutton for work; when he wasn’t operating he was dictating letters, giving lectures or examining students. Serena made copious notes, typed them neatly and left them each evening with Juffrouw Staal. She saw the doctor each day, but beyond wanting to know in a rather impatient manner if she was all right, he had nothing of a personal nature to say to her. She returned to the cheerful haven of Mevrouw Blom’s house each evening, tired and hungry but satisfied that she had done a good day’s work and delighted to find that her mother was enjoying herself. Mr Harding had taken her under his elderly wing and each evening she recounted to Serena the various pleasures of her day. She didn’t want to know about Serena’s; she dismissed it as boring, and beyond a fleeting concern that Serena didn’t seem to have much time to herself, she had no comment to make.

‘Well, I’ll be free on Saturday,’ said Serena.

‘Oh, will you, darling? You’ll love to potter round the shops. Mr Harding is taking me to Utrecht—there are some patrician houses there he wants to see. He says I have a great eye for architecture …’

Serena swallowed disappointment. She had been looking forward to a day sightseeing with her mother, but all she said in her sensible way was, ‘That sounds fun. I’m so glad you’re enjoying yourself, Mother, and you look years younger.’

Mrs Proudfoot peered into the small looking-glass. ‘Yes, I do, don’t I?’ she agreed complacently, and added without much interest, ‘You’re not working too hard, are you, darling?’

Serena assured her that she wasn’t.

She was asked that question again on the following morning, but by the doctor. She assured him that she had never felt better, and he gave her a quizzical look. ‘You are free tomorrow and Sunday, so you and your mother will be able to explore.’

‘Well, actually, she’s going out with Mr Harding who’s at Mevrouw Blom’s—they’re going to Utrecht to look at old houses.’

‘And you?’

‘Me? Oh, I’ll look at the shops and wander about.’ She had spoken in a cheerful and matter-of-fact voice, but something in her face made him give her a thoughtful look.

He said, ‘There is quite a lot to see in Amsterdam,’ and Serena said too quickly,

‘Oh, yes, I know, I’m looking forward to it.’

He went away and she started her day’s work, resolutely determined not to feel sorry for herself.

She found herself unwillingly tidying her desk that evening, knowing that she wouldn’t be at it for two days. She felt secure while she was working, and she was beginning to make the acquaintance of other girls who worked along the corridor; they were friendly and kind and they all spoke English of sorts. Serena was last, as usual. She turned off the lights as she went, ran down the stairs and out of the side door and into the street, then hurried along the pavement to Mevrouw Blom’s house, watched by the doctor, sitting in his car, waiting for a gap in the traffic.

CHAPTER THREE

SERENA got up early the next morning, had her breakfast with Mevrouw Blom, tidied her room and went to say good morning to her mother.

‘Darling, why so early?’ asked Mrs Proudfoot. ‘Are you going somewhere nice?’

‘I’m going to explore. Mr Harding is having his breakfast—what time are you going?’

Mrs Proudfoot took a close look at her face and gave a satisfied nod. ‘I must go down now, we’re leaving by half-past nine. Come down with me and pour my coffee, darling.’

So Serena in her new jacket and skirt, silk blouse and sensible low-heeled shoes, since she intended to walk a great deal, went back to the dining-room and poured her mother’s coffee, then made small talk with Mr Harding and the Lagervelds and the van Tils. She had got to her feet with a cheerful remark about going on her way when Mevrouw Blom opened the door.

‘Serena—here you have a visitor.’ She beamed around the room and stood aside as Dr ter Feulen walked past her.

The size of him made the room all at once smaller. Serena, who had never seen him in anything but exquisitely tailored dark grey suits and long white hospital coats, thought the tweeds he was wearing made him look younger, but this reflection was swallowed up in the supposition that he wanted her to go back to the hospital and do some work.

His greeting to everyone in the room was polite and genial, and Mrs Proudfoot exclaimed, ‘Dr ter Feulen, how delightful—’

He cut her short with practised ease. ‘I’m glad to see you looking so well.’ He rested his cool look on Serena. ‘I intend to show you something of Amsterdam, Serena.’ He paused and added, ‘Unless you had any other plans?’ His deep voice held a note of disbelief that she might have any ideas of her own, and she opened her mouth to refuse while at the same time a small voice inside her head reminded her that here was a chance to go sightseeing without any effort on her part, and, what was even nicer, she wouldn’t be on her own. The loneliness she had been feeling ever since her mother had told her that she would be spending the day with Mr Harding melted away under his look.