Betty Neels - The Mistletoe Kiss

Emmy shouted with them; there was no one else to hear or see them, and the air was exhilarating. They trooped back presently, tired and hungry, to eat the lunch Cokker had waiting for them and then go to the nursery, where they sat around the table playing cards-the littlest one on Emmy's lap, her head tucked into Emmy's shoulder, half asleep.

They had tea there presently and, since Joke wasn't back yet, Emmy set about getting them ready for bed. Bathed and clad in dressing gowns they were eating their suppers when their mother returned.

'Emmy, you must be worn out. I never meant to be so long, but I met some friends and had lunch with them and then I had the shopping to do. Have you hated it?'

'I've enjoyed every minute,' said Emmy quite truthfully. 'I had a lovely day; I only hope the children did, too.'

'Well, tomorrow we're all going to den Haag to have lunch with my mother and father. They were away for Christmas-in Denmark with a widowed aunt. They'll be here for New Year, though. You did know that we had parents living?'

'The professor mentioned it.'

'Christmas wasn't quite the same without them, but we'll all be here in a few days.'

'You want me to come with you tomorrow?' asked Emmy. 'I'm quite happy to stay here-I mean, it's family…'

Joke smiled. 'I want you to come if you will, Emmy.' She wondered if she should tell her that her parents had been told all about her by Ruerd, and decided not to. It was his business. They had never been a family to interfere with each other's lives, although she and Alemke very much wished to dissuade him from marrying Anneliese.

There was undoubtedly something Ruerd was keeping to himself, and neither of them had seen any sign of love or even affection in his manner towards Anneliese, although he was attentive to her needs and always concerned for her comfort. Good manners wouldn't allow him to be otherwise. And he had been careful to avoid being alone with Emmy at Christmas. Always polite towards her, his friendliness also aloof. Knowing her brother, Joke knew that he wouldn't break his word to Anneliese, although she strongly suspected that he had more than a casual interest in Emmy.

They drove to den Haag in good spirits in the morning. The children spoke a little English and Emmy taught them some of the old-fashioned nursery rhymes, which they sang for most of the way. Only as they reached a long, stately avenue with large houses on each side of it did Emmy suggest that they should stop. Joke drove up the short drive of one of these houses and stopped before its ponderous door. 'Well, here we are,' she declared. 'Oma and Opa will be waiting.'

The door opened as they reached it and a stout, elderly woman welcomed them.

'This is Nynke,' said Joke, and Emmy shook hands and waited while the children hugged and kissed her. 'The housekeeper. She has been with us since I was a little girl.' It was her turn to be hugged and kissed before they all went into the hall to take off coats and scarves and gloves, and go through the arched double doors Nynke was holding open for them.

The elderly couple waiting for them at the end of the long, narrow room made an imposing pair. The professor's parents were tall-his father with the massive frame he had passed on to his son, and his mother an imposing, rather stout figure. They both had grey hair, and his father was still a handsome man, but his mother, despite her elegant bearing, had a homely face, spared from downright plainness by a pair of very blue eyes.

No wonder he has fallen in love with Anneliese, reflected Emmy, with that lovely face and golden hair.

The children swarmed over their grandparents, although they were careful to mind their manners, and presently stood quietly while Joke greeted her parents.

'And this is Emmy,' she said, and put a hand on Emmy's arm. 'I am so glad to have her with me for a few days-she's been staying with her parents over Christmas at Huis ter Mennolt. Rik's away, and it's lovely to have company.'

Emmy shook hands, warmed by friendly smiles and greetings in almost accentless English. Presently Mevrouw ter Mennolt drew her to one side and, over coffee and tiny almond biscuits, begged her to tell her something of herself.

'Ruerd mentioned that he had guests from England when he phoned us. You know him well?'

The nice, plain face smiled, the blue eyes twinkled. Emmy embarked on a brief rйsumй of her acquaintance with the professor, happily unaware that her companion had already had a detailed account from her son. It was what he hadn't said which had convinced his mother that he was more than a little interested in Emmy.

Watching Emmy's face, almost as plain as her own, she wished heartily for a miracle before Anneliese managed to get her son to the altar. Mevrouw ter Mennolt had tried hard to like her, since her son was to marry the girl, but she had had no success, and Anneliese, confident in her beauty and charm, had never made an effort to gain her future mother-in-law's affection.

Emmy would, however, do very nicely. Joke had told her that she was right for Ruerd, and she found herself agreeing. The children liked her and that, for a doting grandmother, was an important point. She hadn't forgotten Anneliese once flying into a rage during a visit because Joke's youngest had accidentally put a grubby little paw on Anneliese's white skirt. It was a pity that Ruerd hadn't been there, for her lovely face had grown ugly with temper. Besides, this quiet, rather shabbily dressed girl might be the one woman in the world who understood Ruerd, a man who's feelings ran deep and hidden from all but those who loved him.

Emmy was handed over to her host presently, and although she was at first wary of this older edition of the professor he put her at her ease in minutes, talking about gardening, dogs and cats, and presently he bade her fetch her coat.

'We have a garden here,' he told her. 'Not as splendid as that at Huis ter Mennolt, but sufficient for us and Max. Let us take the dogs for a quick run before lunch.'

They went through the house, into a conservatory, out of doors onto a terrace and down some steps to the garden below. Max, the black Labrador, Solly and Tip went with them, going off the path to search for imaginary rabbits, while Emmy and Ruerd's father walked briskly down its considerable length to the shrubbery at the end.

All the while they talked. At least, the old man talked, and a great deal of what he said concerned his son. Emmy learned more about Ruerd in fifteen minutes than she had in all the weeks she had known him. She listened avidly; soon she would never see him again, so every small scrap of information about him was precious, to be stored away, to be mulled over in a future empty of him.

Back at the house she led the children away to have their hands washed and their hair combed before lunch. They went up the stairs and into one of the bathrooms-old-fashioned like the rest of the house, but lacking nothing in comfort. She liked the house. It wasn't like Huis ter Mennolt; it had been built at a later date-mid-nineteenth century, she guessed-and the furniture was solid and beautifully cared for. Beidermeier? she thought, not knowing much about it. Its walls were hung with family portraits and she longed to study them as she urged the children downstairs once again, all talking at once and laughing at her attempts to understand them.

She was offered dry sherry in the drawing room while the children drank something pink and fizzy-a special drink they always had at their grandmother's, they told her, before they all went into the dining room for lunch.

It was a pleasant meal, with the children on their best be-haviour and conversation which went well with eating the lamb chops which followed the celery soup-nothing deep which required long pauses while something was debated and explained-and nothing personal. No one, thought Emmy, had mentioned Anneliese once, which, since she was so soon to be a member of the family, seemed strange.