she never had the time to go shopping. In the meantime she would have to make do with whatever her meagre wardrobe could produce. She had money, the doctor was punctilious about that, so the very first morning she had an hour or two to herself she would go shopping.
The sun was shining when Dr van Vleet came for her; the doctor had already breakfasted, spent a brief time in his study and was in the garden with the boys, but they all came to see her off, the boys noisily begging her to come back soon. ‘As long as you’re here in the morning when we wake up,’ said Peter.
Dr van Vleet drove a Fiat and she quickly discovered that he liked driving fast. ‘Where are we going?’ she wanted to know.
‘To Arnhem first. We go through the Veluwe—that’s pretty wooded country—and at Arnhem there’s an open-air village museum you might like to see. You’ve seen nothing of Holland yet?”
‘Well, no, though I’ve explored Utrecht pretty thoroughly. With the boys.’
‘Nice little chaps, aren’t they?’ He gave her a smiling glance. ‘My name’s Piet, by the way. And what is it the boys call you?’
‘Mintie. Short for Araminta.’
‘Then I shall call you Mintie.’
He was right, the Veluwe was beautiful: its trees glowing with autumn colours, the secluded villas half hidden from the road. They stopped for coffee and, after touring the village at Arnhem, had lunch there.
After lunch he drove to Nijmegen and on to Culemborg, and then north to Amersfoort and on to Soestdijk so that she could see the royal palace.
They had tea in Soest and then drove back to Appeldoorn to look at the palace there. Piet finally took the Utrecht road, and she said, ‘You’ve given me a lovely day. I can’t begin to thank you; I’ve loved every minute of it…’
‘It’s not over yet. I hope you’ll have dinner with me. There’s rather a nice hotel near Utrecht—Auberge de Hoefslag. Very pretty surroundings, woods all round and excellent food.’
‘It sounds lovely, but I’m not dressed…’ began Araminta.
‘You look all right to me.’
And she need not have worried; the restaurant was spread over two rooms, one modern, the other delightfully old-fashioned, and in both there was a fair sprinkling of obvious tourists.
The food was delicious and they didn’t hurry over it. By the time they had driven the ten kilometres to Utrecht it was almost eleven o’clock.
Piet got out of the car with her and went with her to the door, waiting while she rang the bell, rather worried as it was later than she had intended. Bas opened the door, beamed a greeting at her and ushered her inside. He wished Dr van Vleet a civil goodnight and shut the door, and just for a moment Araminta stood in the hall, remembering her happy day and smiling because before they had said goodnight he had asked her to go out with him again.
‘A happy day, miss?’ asked Bas. ‘You would like coffee or tea?’
‘A lovely day, Bas.’ Her eyes shone just thinking about it. ‘I don’t want anything, thank you. I do hope I haven’t kept you up?’
‘No, miss. Goodnight.’
She crossed the hall to the staircase. The doctor’s study door was half open and she could see him at his desk. He didn’t look up, and after a moment’s pause she went on up the stairs. He must have heard her come in but he had given no sign. She wouldn’t admit it, but her lovely day was a little spoilt by that.
At breakfast he asked her if she had enjoyed her day out, and, quite carried away by the pleasure, she assured him that she had and embarked on a brief description of where they had been, only to realise very quickly that he wasn’t in the least interested. So she stopped in mid-sentence, applied herself to attending to the boys’ wants and her own breakfast, and when he got up from the table with a muttered excuse took no notice.
He turned back at the door to say, ‘I see no reason why the boys shouldn’t attend church this morning. Kindly have them ready in good time, Miss Pomfrey. And, of course, yourself.’
So they went to church, the boys delighted to be with their uncle, she at her most staid. The sermon seemed longer than ever, but she didn’t mind, she was planning her new clothes. Piet had said he would take her to Amsterdam, a city worthy of a new outfit.
The doctor, sitting so that he could watch her face, wondered why he had considered her so plain—something, someone had brought her to life. He frowned; he must remember to warn her…
There was a general upsurge of the congregation and presently they were walking home again.
They had just finished lunch and were full of ideas as to how they might spend their afternoon when Christina Lutyns was ushered in.
She kissed the doctor on both cheeks, nodded to the boys and ignored Araminta, breaking into a torrent of Dutch.
The doctor had got up as she entered, and stood smiling as she talked. When she paused he said something to make her smile, and then said in English, ‘I shall be out for the rest of the day, Miss Pomfrey.’ When the boys protested, he promised that when he came home he would be sure to wish them goodnight. ‘Although you may be asleep,’ he warned them.
They had been asleep for hours when he came home. He went to their room and bent to kiss them and tuck the bedclothes in, and Araminta, who had had a difficult time getting them to go to sleep, hoped that he would have a good excuse in the morning.
Whatever it was, it satisfied the boys, but not her, for he spoke Dutch.
That evening he asked her when she would like her free day. Piet had suggested Thursday, but she felt uncertain of having it. If the doctor had work to do he wouldn’t change that to accommodate her. But it seemed that Thursday was possible. ‘Going out with van Vleet again?’ asked the doctor casually.
‘Yes, to Amsterdam.’ She added, in a voice which dared him to disagree with her, ‘I hear it is a delightful city. I am looking forward to seeing it.’
‘Miss Pomfrey, there is something I should warn you about…’
‘Is there? Could it wait, Doctor? The boys will be late for school if I don’t take them now.’
‘Just as you like, Miss Pomfrey.’ And somehow she contrived not to be alone with him for the rest of the day; she felt sure he was going to tell her that they would be returning to England sooner than he had expected, and she didn’t want to hear that. Not now that she had met Piet.
Rather recklessly she went shopping during the morning hours while the boys were in school. Clothes, good clothes, she discovered, were expensive, but she couldn’t resist buying a dress and loose jacket in a fine wool. It was in pale amber, an impractical colour and probably she wouldn’t have much chance to wear it, but it gave her mousy hair an added glint and it was a perfect fit. She bought shoes, too, and a handbag and a pretty scarf.
Thursday came and, much admired by the boys, she went downstairs to meet Piet. He was in the hall talking to the doctor and turned to watch her as she came towards them. His hello was friendly. ‘How smart you look—I like the colour; it suits you.’
‘We
