Never too Late. Бетти Нилс
and then the hospital, if you like to unpack after lunch and get to know Sibella—take her for a walk, if you like. Ork will bring you tea when you want it, Sibella will bear you company until I get back, and if we can get an hour this evening, we’ll discuss your—er—duties.’
He went on to ask about her family, putting her at her ease with his placid voice until the door opened and Sibella came in. She was small for her age, with her father’s blue eyes and fair hair, cut short with a fringe. She had his calm too, crossing the room to kiss him and then slipping a hand in his while she studied Prudence. After a moment she said something to her father and smiled at them both.
Benedict laughed. ‘She says you’re very pretty.’ He gave her a gentle push and spoke in Dutch and the child went to Prudence and offered a small paw.
‘Hullo,’ she said gravely.
‘Hullo,’ said Prudence, and smiled as she shook the hand and, wise after years of Sunday School classes, didn’t say any more.
‘I speak English,’ volunteered Sibella.
‘Oh, good. I can’t speak Dutch, not one word.’
‘I shall help you.’ She went back to her father and climbed on to his knee. ‘You will help also, Papa.’
‘Oh, certainly I will.’ He added something in Dutch and Sibella got off his knee. ‘She’ll take you to your room—you’ll find Sitska already there, I believe.’ He got to his feet. ‘Lunch in ten minutes?’
She must remember that he was a busy man, Prudence told herself as she climbed the rather grand staircase behind the little girl and then accepted the hand held out to her as they reached the gallery which ran round three sides of the hall. They turned into a small passage through an archway and went into a room beyond, and Prudence uttered a cry of delight when she saw it. It was a fair size, with a bed of mahogany, matched with a bow-fronted table holding a triple mirror. There was a vast cupboard, two little easy chairs and pretty rose-coloured lamps on either side of a bowl of late roses. The carpet was thick and cream-coloured and the bedspread and curtains were flower-patterned chintz.
‘Oh, this is delightful!’ said Prudence, waltzing from the bed to the mirror-backed door leading to the bathroom and then to the window and the bedside table to examine the books thoughtfully laid upon it.
‘You like?’ asked Sibella.
‘Oh, yes, my dear. It’s beautiful.’ Prudence got out a comb and her make-up and made short shrift of tidying herself, watched from the door by the little girl. She was turning away from the mirror when there was a tap on the half open door and the housekeeper bustled in. She was a tall, thin woman with a pleasant face who beamed at Prudence and then advanced to shake hands with her. ‘Sitska,’ she said, and added, ‘Welcome’.
Prudence shook hands and smiled and murmured a quite useless ‘How d’ you do?’ then waved a hand round the room. ‘The room is charming,’ she said, and tried again: ‘Pretty…’
Sibella came to her rescue. ‘Pretty—I know that word.’ She entered into a lengthy conversation and Sitska smiled and nodded and then waved a hand towards the stairs. Presumably lunch was ready.
The dining room was on the opposite side of the hall to the drawing room. It held a large circular table capable of seating a dozen persons, as well as a great side table, chairs, and a William and Mary display cabinet whose glass-fronted shelves were filled with old Delft plates and dishes.
Benedict was standing at a window, a glass in his hand, but he turned round as they went in and offered Prudence a drink. ‘Sorry to rush you, but my first appointment’s in half an hour; you’ll get used to my comings and goings—at least I hope you will.’
‘It shouldn’t be difficult,’ said Prudence, ‘Father’s job isn’t exactly nine to five!’
Lunch was a pleasant meal; cold meats and salad and a basket of breads of every kind, and accompanying these, hot creamy coffee. The talk was pleasant too, mostly about Appeldoorn and its history and the surrounding countryside. Benedict got up to go presently and Prudence, with Sibella in tow, went up to her room and unpacked.
This was a lengthy business, since Prudence had to explain her wardrobe garment by garment to Sibella, who, anxious to be helpful, told her the Dutch in return. By the time they had finished the rain had stopped and Benedict’s suggestion of a walk seemed a good one, especially as they were joined on their way to the front door by a large woolly dog, intent on keeping them company. He was introduced as Henry, and a lead having been found, led them both at a brisk pace across the road and into the grass between the avenues leading towards the palace. Once there, he was released and set off on his own business, although he was obedient enough when he was called, something for which Prudence was thankful. Sibella was a chatterbox, quite undeterred by having to repeat almost everything she said two or three times; her boast that she could speak English wasn’t quite true, although between them they carried on a lively conversation. Prudence was careful to keep talk to general things; although she was longing to ask questions about Benedict and his work and whether he went out a lot or entertained, but even if she had slipped in one or two leading questions she doubted if Sibella would have answered them. The child was friendly and anxious to please, but Prudence had the feeling that she would shut up like a clam if she wanted to.
They raced around the grass with Henry making a delighted third until they were all tired and Prudence suggested that they might go back for tea, a meal set ready for them in a small room behind the dining room, very cosy with a small fire burning in the old-fashioned grate and tea set out on a round table covered with a fringed tablecloth; rather Victorian but charming, Prudence decided, and sat down behind the teapot.
Someone had done their best to offer them an English tea; not the modern version of a cup of tea and a biscuit, but thin bread and butter, little cakes and scones. The pair of them ate with appetite while Henry sustained his hunger with crusts and bits of cake and a bowl of tea.
‘You do not find it bad?’ asked Sibella anxiously.
‘Good gracious, no! I’ve got a dog called Podge, he always has his tea with us.’
‘There are two cats, also—Miep and Poes. You like cats?’
‘Very much,’ said Prudence, and offered Henry a last morsel of cake and stood up. ‘What would you like to do now?’
‘You come to my…’ Sibella’s small face wrinkled in a heavy frown, ‘speelkamer,’ and when Prudence only shook her head, took her hand and led her upstairs.
‘Playroom,’ said Prudence the moment she had put her head round the door. ‘What fun! What shall we do?’
There was a doll’s house on a table between the two windows, they pulled up chairs before it, opened its front door and became absorbed in its contents. It was a splendid thing with electric lights, and furnished down to the last spoon, and they went over it room by room; they were putting the inmates of the nursery on the second floor into their tiny beds when Benedict came quietly in.
He kissed his small daughter, patted Prudence’s shoulder in an absentminded fashion and enquired as to their afternoon. Sibella, naturally enough, answered in Dutch. Prudence said carefully: ‘I’ve enjoyed myself very much, I hope Sibella has too.’ She stood up. ‘I expect you like to be together for a while when you get home—if you tell me when you would like me to give Sibella her supper…?’ It made her sound like a mid-Victorian governess, but she felt rather at sea.
Benedict chuckled. ‘You’re right, we usually spend an hour together about this time—I see private patients before dinner, but there’s usually time to spare before then. Would you like to phone your mother? Use the telephone in my study, but do join us when you’ve done that; we might manage a wild game of Snakes and Ladders, it’ll be more fun with three.’
Ork, appearing from nowhere, led the way to the study, opened the door for her, gave her a kindly smile and left her there. It was a large room with a partner’s desk at one end of it, loaded