his chair, with Humphrey at his feet. He got up as she went in, offered her a chair, offered sherry and when he sat down again, observed, ‘I think we may regard Peter and Paul as being almost back to normal. I think we should keep them from school for another few days, but I see no reason why they shouldn’t have a short brisk walk tomorrow if the weather is fine. Children have astonishing powers of recovery.’
Araminta agreed pleasantly and sipped her sherry. She hoped he wasn’t going to keep her for too long; she was hungry and it was already past the dinner hour.
‘You must have a day to yourself,’ said the doctor. ‘I’m booked up for the next two days, but after that I will be at home, if you care to avail yourself of a day. And this time I promise to make sure that you enjoy yourself. You may have the Jaguar and a driver, and if you will let me know where you would like to go, I will arrange a suitable tour for you.’
Araminta took another sip of sherry. So she was to be given a treat, was she? Parcelled up and put in a car and driven around like a poor old relative who deserved a nice day out.
She tossed back the rest of the sherry and sat up straight. ‘How kind,’ she said in a voice brittle with indignation, ‘but there is no need of your thoughtful offer. I have other plans.’
The doctor asked carelessly, ‘Such as?’ and when she gave him a chilly look he said, ‘I do stand, as it were, in loco parentis.’
‘I am twenty-three years old, doctor,’ said Araminta in a voice which should have chilled him to the bone.
He appeared untouched. ‘You don’t look it. Had I not known, I would have guessed nineteen, twenty at the most.’ He smiled, and she knew that she would have to tell him.
‘Dr van Vleet has asked me to spend the day with him.’
She had gone rather red, so that she frowned as she spoke.
‘Ah, a most satisfactory arrangement. And it absolves me from the need to concern myself over you. Telephone him and make any arrangements you like; I am sure you will enjoy yourself with him.’ He put down his glass. ‘Shall we go in to dinner?’
‘Oh, are you going to be here?’ Araminta paused; she had put that rather badly. ‘What I meant was, you’re dining at home this evening?’
The doctor said gravely, ‘That is my intention, Miss Pomfrey.’ She didn’t see his smile, for she was looking at her feet and wondering if she should apologise.
He, aware of that, maintained a steady flow of small talk throughout the meal so that by the time they had finished she felt quite her normal calm self again.
Getting ready for bed later, she even decided that the doctor could, if he chose, be a pleasant companion.
The next few days went well. The boys, making the most of their last free days before going back to school, took her about the city, spending their pocket money, feeding the ducks in the park, taking her to the Oudegracht to look at the ancient stone—a legendary edifice which, they told her, with suitable embellishments, had to do with the devil.
She saw little of the doctor, just briefly at breakfast, with occasional glimpses as he came and went during the day, but never in the evenings. Somehow he made time to be with his nephews before their bedtime, when she was politely told that she might do whatever she wished for a couple of hours, but they didn’t dine together again.
Not that Araminta minded. She had phoned Dr van Vleet and, after gaining the doctor’s indifferent consent, had agreed to spend the day with him on the following Saturday.
She worried as to what she should wear. It was too chilly for the two-piece; it would have to be a blouse and skirt and the jacket. A pity, she reflected crossly, that 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
