Betty Neels - Uncertain Summer

‘Of course, my beauty—there’s our glorious future to discuss.’

Serena forced herself to remain calm. All the same, he was going a bit fast for her; perhaps she should change the conversation. She asked sedately: ‘When will you go back to Holland?’ wisely not commenting upon the future.

He smiled a little as though he knew what she was thinking. ‘We’ll talk about that later. Quite soon, I expect—my mother is worrying about me. She’s a splendid worrier, though Gijs will be home by the morning and can soothe her down—he’s good at that. If ever you want a good cry, Serena, try his shoulder. He’s splendid in the part—doesn’t seem to mind a girl crying, though I can’t say the same for myself. I’ve not much patience for women who burst into tears for no good reason.’

He grinned at her and she smiled back, thinking how absurd it was for anyone to want to cry about anything at all. ‘I’m going,’ she said softly. ‘Night Sister will hate me if I stay a moment longer.’ She withdrew her hand.

‘Come tomorrow,’ he urged her as she reached the door. She turned to look at him and even at that distance, in the light of the bedside lamp, she could see how blue his eyes were. ‘Of course.’

On the way over to the home she found herself wondering what colour Gijs’s eyes were. It was ridiculous, but she didn’t know; blue too, she supposed, and now she came to think about it, he had a habit of drooping the lids which was probably why she didn’t know. In any case, it was quite unimportant.

Laurens went on Thursday, but not before he had arranged to see Serena on Friday evening. ‘I’ll be at the Stafford, in St James’ Place,’ he had told her. ‘I’ll send a taxi for you—seven o’clock, if that’s OK.’

She had agreed, enchanted that she was to see him again so soon. She had visited him every day and they had laughed a lot together, and he had been gay and charming and had made no secret of the fact that he was more than a little in love with her, and even though she still felt a little uncertain as to his true feelings she had allowed herself to dwell on a future which excited her.

For once, and to her great relief, she was off duty punctually so that she had time to bath and dress with care in a dress the colour of corn. It was very plain and she covered it with a matching wool coat; the only ornament she wore was an old-fashioned keeper ring her father had given her on her twenty-first birthday which had belonged to her great-grandmother.

The hotel was small as London hotels went, but entering its foyer, she suspected that it catered for people who enjoyed the comforts of life and were prepared to pay for them. She hadn’t thought much about Laurens’s state as regards money. He had an E-type Jaguar, certainly, but a great many young men had those, affording them at the expense of something else, but it seemed that he could afford his Jag and a good life too. She inquired for him with pleasant composure and was relieved of her coat and ushered into the hotel lounge. He was waiting for her, looking very correct in his black tie, although she found his shirt over-fussy. Even as she smiled in greeting her eyes swept down to his leg and he laughed. ‘Serena, forget your wretched plasters for an hour or two—it’s quite safe inside my trouser. I got one of the fellows to cut the seam and pin it together again.’

She laughed then. ‘How frightfully wasteful! Are you all right here—comfortable?’

A silly remark, she chided herself, but she hadn’t been able to think of anything else to say in her delight at seeing him.

‘Very comfortable,’ he told her, ‘and now you’re here, perfectly all right.’ He smiled at her. ‘Will a Dubonnet suit you, or would you rather have a gin and lime?’

‘Dubonnet, thank you. When are you going home?’

‘On Saturday—Gijs will come over for me. I’ll be back in a few weeks, though, to collect the new car.’ His hand covered hers briefly where it lay on the table. ‘Serena, will you come over to Holland—oh, not now—in a few weeks. I want you to meet my mother.’

She blinked her long lashes, her eyes enormous with surprise. ‘But why—I haven’t any holiday due.’

‘Who spoke of holidays? You can resign or whatever it is you do, can’t you?’

‘But I shall want to go back…’

‘Now that’s something we’re going to talk about.’ He smiled as he spoke and her own mouth curved in response.

She ate her dinner in a happy daze, saying very little, not quite sure that it was really all happening, until he asked suddenly: ‘Why do you wear that ring? It’s a cheap thing. I’ll give you a ring to suit your beautiful finger—diamonds, I think.’

Serena felt affronted and a little hurt, but all the same she explained without showing it that it was her great-grandmother’s and that she treasured it. ‘And I don’t like diamonds,’ she added quietly.

Her words had the effect of amusing him very much. ‘My sweet gipsy, you can’t mean that—all girls like diamonds.’

Serena took a mouthful of crême brulée and said, smiling a little, because it was impossible to be even faintly annoyed with him: ‘Well, here’s one girl who doesn’t.’

‘And that’s something else we’ll talk about later,’ he said lightly. ‘When are you free tomorrow?’

She told him happily. ‘And Saturday?’ She told him that too. ‘I’m on at ten for the rest of the day.’

‘Good lord, why?’

She explained about weekends and was gratifyingly flattered when he observed: ‘Just my luck—if it had been last weekend, we could have spent it together.’

‘Not very well,’ Serena, being a parson’s daughter, saw no hidden meanings in this remark, ‘for you can’t drive and I haven’t got a car, you know, and the train journey would have tired you out.’

She spoke happily because it had made everything seem more real because he had taken it for granted that he would have spent the weekend at her home. She certainly didn’t notice the hastily suppressed astonishment in his voice when he answered her.

They talked about other things then, and it was only when she was wishing him goodbye, with the promise to lunch with him on the next day, that he said:

‘You’re quite a girl, Serena—full of surprises, too.’ He kissed her lightly on the cheek and added: ‘Tomorrow.’

She went to bed in a haze of dreams, all of them with happy endings, and none of them, she realized when she woke in the morning, capable of standing up to a searching scrutiny. She decided rebelliously that she wasn’t going to be searching anyway. She dressed with care in the white jacket and skirt and decided against a hat.

They had almost finished their early lunch when Laurens said: ‘I shan’t see you tomorrow then, my sweet. I shall miss you—will you miss me?’

Serena had never been encouraged to be anything but honest. ‘Yes, of course,’ she answered readily ‘very much. But you’re coming back—you said…’

He laughed a little. ‘Oh, yes, I’m coming back, and next time when I go you’re coming with me, remember?’

‘Well, yes,’ she stammered a little, ‘but I wasn’t sure if you meant it.’

He put his head on one side. ‘Then you must be sure. I shall ring you up when I get back, then you will give in your notice to your so good Matron and pack your bags and come to my home and learn something of Holland.’

‘Oh,’ said Serena, her heart was pattering along at a great rate, ‘are you—that is, is this…’

‘It seems so. How else am I to get you, my beautiful gipsy?’

They said goodbye soon after that and when he kissed her she returned his kiss with a happy warmth even though she couldn’t bear the thought of not seeing him for several weeks.