they entered, a door at the end of the hall opened, and a short, stout man came to meet them. He was accompanied by a large dog with small yellow eyes and a thick grey pelt, who bared awesome teeth in what Sarah hoped was a smile. Apparently it was, for he pranced up to Mr ter Breukel and offered his head for a scratch with reassuring meekness.
Mr ter Breukel obliged, exchanged a few words with the man and switched to English. ‘This is Jaap; he and his wife look after me. And this is Max; he looks fierce, but he has the disposition of a lamb.’
Sarah shook Jaap’s hand, then patted Max’s woolly head and tried not to notice the teeth before she was propelled gently through a door into a high-ceilinged room with narrow windows and a hooded fireplace. She had no time to see more than that before a young woman got up from a chair by the cheerful fire and came to meet them.
‘Litrik, you’re late.’ She lifted a face for his kiss and smiled at Sarah.
‘Suzanne, this is Sarah Beckwith. She and her parents had a car accident this afternoon. They are at St Bravo’s and she has agreed to stay here with us for the night. The police have all their things, and it is rather late to find a hotel…’
Suzanne took Sarah’s hand. ‘How horrid for you, and we’ll love to have you; you must be feeling awful.’ She cast a discreet eye over Sarah’s deplorable person. ‘Would you like a bath before dinner? Anneke can get your clothes cleaned up while I lend you something to wear.’
She took Sarah’s arm. ‘This is fun—not for you, of course, but I’m so pleased you’re here. We’ll find Anneke and I’ll take you upstairs.’
She turned to her brother. ‘Dinner in half an hour? You don’t have to go back this evening?’
‘No, not unless something turns up.’ He gave a casual nod and smile and went to the fire, and Sarah, reassured by the matter-of-fact air he was careful to maintain, went back into the hall and up a carved staircase in a recess halfway down it.
A small, thin woman was waiting for them when they reached the landing.
‘This is Anneke,’ said Suzanne. ‘Jaap’s wife and a family friend for years and years.’
Sarah offered a hand once more and was aware that she was being carefully studied from beady brown eyes. Then Anneke smiled and led the way down a passage leading off the landing, opened a door and waved Suzanne and Sarah into the room beyond.
A charming room of pale pastel colours, deeply carpeted, with curtained windows a froth of white muslin. Sarah paused on the threshold. ‘My filthy shoes…’ She took them off and Anneke took them from her with a smile and said something to Suzanne.
‘Take everything off and have a bath. Anneke will see to your things and I’ll bring you some clothes.’ She studied Sarah’s small person. ‘We’re almost the same size. A sweater and trousers?’ She gave Sarah a little push. ‘Anneke’s running a bath for you; I’ll be back in ten minutes.’
Left alone, Sarah shed her damp and dirty clothes, laid them tidily on a towel so as not to spoil the carpet or quilt, and got into the bath. It was blissfully hot and delightfully scented. She could have stayed there for hours, but Suzanne, calling from the open door into the bedroom, roused her.
‘I’ve put some things on the bed. Something is bound to fit, more or less. Dinner in ten minutes.’
Sarah, wrapped in a vast white towel, went to have a look. There was a heap of coloured sweaters, a couple of pairs of trousers, gossamer undies, slippers…
Dressed, her hair still damp and tied back in an untidy plait for lack of ribbons or pins, the trousers on the large side and the pink sweater she had chosen shrouding her person, she took a final look at her reflection. She looked as plain as always, she decided, but at least she was clean and smelling sweet.
She went downstairs and found Jaap in the hall, waiting for her. He led her with a fatherly air back into the drawing room and Mr ter Breukel got up out of his chair and crossed the room with just the right air of a polite host ready to put an unexpected guest at ease.
Suzanne, watching him, hid a smile. Litrik, impervious to the charms of various young ladies that his family, anxious for him to marry, had produced, was showing interest in this nice little creature with the plain face and the lovely eyes. And the pink sweater suited her very well…
Sarah, accepting a chair and a glass of sherry, happily unaware of Suzanne’s thoughts, made polite conversation with her host and hostess, and, encouraged by Mr ter Breukel’s artless questioning, said that no, she had never been to Arnhem before, had never been in Holland—only her stepfather had wanted to return to England by the night ferry to Harwich.
‘Ah, yes—you live somewhere along the east coast? By far the easiest way to return.’
‘He has a house near Clapham Common—that’s London,’ said Sarah flatly. And, since his raised eyebrows invited more than that, added, ‘We—that is, Mother and Father, before he died, and me…’ She paused. Perhaps it was ‘I’. ‘We used to live in a small village in Berkshire.’
‘Delightful country,’ murmured Mr ter Breukel, inviting further confidences.
‘Yes, quite different from Clapham Common.’
‘You live at home?’
‘Yes. Mother isn’t very strong…’
Suzanne asked, ‘You’re not getting married or anything like that?’
‘No, we—I don’t go out much.’
Mr ter Breukel said easily, ‘One never knows what awaits one round the corner.’ He knew, of course, but patience was something of which he had plenty. Having found her, he wasn’t going to lose her by being hasty.
Jaap came to tell them that dinner was served; Suzanne took his arm and they crossed the hall to the dining room, with its panelled walls and oval table, the George the First Oak dresser along one wall, the oak Chippendale chairs. A pair of crystal candelabra stood on the dresser, and a silver and cut-glass epergne was at the centre of the table, which was set with lace mats and silverware—very plain, with a crest worn by time.
Sarah gave a quick glance around her and sighed with pleasure. Everything in the room was old and perfect and used—not taken for granted, but neither was it hidden away behind cabinet doors or packed in green baize, to be used only on very special occasions.
The food was good too, simple and beautifully cooked, enhanced by the plates upon which it was served; Delft, she recognised, and old, for they were patterned in pale lavender, not the blue one expected. Washing up would be a hazardous undertaking…
She drank the wine she was offered and Mr ter Breukel watched with satisfaction as the colour came back into her pale face. She hadn’t been injured but she had been shocked, although she had done her best to hide that. A good night’s sleep, he reflected, and tomorrow he would find the time to consider the future.
Suzanne escorted Sarah to her bed, after a cheerful goodnight from her host.
Sarah got into the silk and lacy nightie Suzanne had found for her and slid into bed, determined to make sensible plans for the morning; once she had retrieved their luggage and money and passports from the police, she reflected, she could decide what was best to be done. She
