‘I’m on my own every day now, darling, and deadly boring it is too. If only I had your health and strength.’
They got to bed at last, and Serena lay awake for a long time wondering if she had done the right thing, or rather if the right thing had been done for her, for she had had little say in the matter.
She wasn’t sure if she was pleased at the doctor’s intervention either. He had forced her hand and there was no going back now, for her mother was determined to go. All the same, when she saw him in the morning she would tell him that he had no right to interfere. On this firm resolution she at last slept.
CHAPTER TWO
SERENA was still firmly resolved to speak her mind to the doctor when she went to work in the morning. It was unfortunate that it wasn’t until the end of the day that she had the opportunity to do so.
She was on the way to the side entrance she normally used when she came face to face with him. She slid to a halt and said briskly, ‘Oh, good, I wanted to see you, Dr ter Feulen.’
He stood in front of her, blocking the way. ‘Ah, Miss Proudfoot, should I be greatly flattered at your eagerness to see me again?’ He paused and looked at her earnest, rather cross face. ‘No, that is too much to expect. I have annoyed you?’
She suspected that he was laughing at her. ‘I think it was most—most unfair of you to telephone my mother before I’d had a chance to talk to her. I haven’t said I’ll take the job, have I? So what right have you to—to—to …!’
‘Interfere?’ he suggested helpfully. ‘Meddle in your affairs? No right at all. My intentions were purely selfish. After some years of Muriel’s calm acceptance of my ill humour, impatience and bad handwriting, I have been terrified of engaging her successor. Who knows what foibles she might have? A desire to finish her work at the correct time, an inability to ignore my bad temper, a desire to answer back pertly as well as a failure to spell correctly.’ He smiled at her and she found herself smiling back. ‘You are the nearest thing to Miss Payne that I have met.’
A kind of compliment, Serena decided, and warmed just a little towards him. But only for a moment. ‘You are unobtrusive,’ he went on. ‘There is nothing about you to distract my attention from my work—’
‘Just like Miss Payne,’ said Serena through her teeth.
‘Exactly so, and I must remind you that a change of scene may be a help to your mother and aid her to overcome her ill health. She seemed delighted at the idea.’
Serena, hanging on to politeness by the skin of her teeth, agreed that that was so.
He smiled again, looking faintly smug, and she longed to refuse the job out of hand, but the thought of her mother stopped her. She said reluctantly, ‘Very well, I’ll work for you, Dr ter Feulen.’
‘Splendid.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘And since I have kept you talking I will drive you home and make the acquaintance of your mother.’
She opened her mouth to protest, and closed it again. Getting the better of him was like getting the better of a feather mattress with a solid core of steel.
Her annoyance was very slightly mitigated by the pleasure of riding in a Bentley, but not sufficient for her to do more than answer his casual talk with monosyllables. She opened her front door and said with false politeness, ‘Do come in, Dr ter Feulen,’ and flattened herself against the wall to allow his considerable bulk to get past her.
Her mother’s voice sounded thinly from the sitting-room. ‘Serena? You’re late again, darling—I hope you’ve thought of something nice for my supper, I’m far too exhausted to do anything about it. Perhaps a glass of sherry …?’
The doctor glanced at Serena’s face, which was a little pale and weary after a day’s work. He had been right in his surmise about her mother; a selfish woman, not unkind but quite uncaring of anyone but herself. He put a large hand on her shoulder and smiled a little, and she stifled an urge to fling herself on to his big chest and have a good cry.
‘Come and meet Mother,’ she invited in a small controlled voice.
The doctor had charm. He also had guile and the self-assurance to deal with difficult situations without anyone else realising the fact. Within half an hour, over a glass of sherry, he had arranged matters exactly to his liking, with Mrs Proudfoot agreeing to every word, and although he had included Serena in the conversation she was bound to admit later that she had been given no opportunity to say anything much. The whole matter had been settled by the time he took his leave.
The moment he had gone Mrs Proudfoot went back to her desk. ‘My dear,’ she exclaimed excitedly, ‘this is all so thrilling—and so little time! I shall need several more dresses. Be a darling and start the supper while I go over my list.’
Over supper Mrs Proudfoot discussed the trip. She had for the moment overlooked the fact that it was to be no social round. She was envisaging days packed with outings, theatres and little dinners. In none of these plans did Serena figure.
‘Mother,’ said Serena, matter-of-factly, ‘I don’t suppose it will be quite as exciting as you suppose. We don’t know a soul in Holland—’ she ignored her mother’s quick ‘Dr ter Feulen,’ ‘—I shall be away all day, and I imagine that the lodgings the doctor has in mind will be fairly quiet.’
Her mother made a pouting face. ‘Darling, you are so prosaic! It’s the chance of a lifetime, and you might at least be pleased about it and not spoil my pleasure by boring on about your work.’ She patted Serena’s arm and smiled beguilingly. ‘Serena, don’t mind me saying this, but I am your mother and I want the best for you. Take care you don’t become a prig—sometimes you’re too good to be true.’
She gave a tinkling laugh. ‘There, don’t I sound horrid? But I say it for your own good. You don’t want to spend all your life in a dull office, do you?’ She patted her carefully arranged curls. ‘Besides, I might marry again.’
Serena, the memory of whose father was still a well-hidden sorrow, poured coffee and handed her mother a cup. ‘Anyone I know?’ she asked.
‘Well, no, dear, but I flatter myself that I’m still fairly youthful as well as being good company, and who knows, I might meet someone I like in Holland.’
Perhaps she had done the wrong thing in agreeing to take on the new job, thought Serena worriedly, and when, some days later, she met Dr ter Feulen at the hospital, she begged a moment of his time, and when he paused impatiently with a politely curt, ‘Well, what can I do for you?’ she wasted no time in coming to the point.
‘I don’t think it will help Mother at all to go to Holland,’ she said, not mincing matters. ‘She leads such a quiet life, and she’s delicate …’
‘Since you were worried about your mother’s health, Miss Proudfoot, I made a point of visiting her. And as we are speaking plainly, I must tell you that I formed the opinion that there is nothing the matter with your mother. Her health would improve immediately if she were to take up some occupation—housework, cooking, voluntary work of some kind. If that sounds to you harsh I do not mean it to be so. I have no doubt that during the weeks she will be in Amsterdam she will find friends and perhaps involve herself in some activity or other.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Forgive me, I’m due in theatre.’
Not a very satisfactory conversation, reflected Serena.
She was kept busy at home as well as at work. She had been unable to discover for how long they would be away, but all the same all the particulars appertaining to the closing of the house had to be attended to, arrangements had to be made at the bank so that her mother’s pension could be transferred and passports renewed, which didn’t leave much time over for her own shopping.
It was October now and, although the pleasant autumn weather still held, there was a nip in the air and yet it might not