Stars Through the Mist by Betty Neels

Author:Betty Neels
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 1973-11-06T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIX

BUT BEFORE they went to Friesland Deborah met some other friends of Gerard’s. She had spent a quiet day after her return, arranging the menu for a dinner party they were to give during the following week, paying a morning visit to her mother-in-law, telephoning her own mother and writing a few letters before taking Smith for a walk. She was back home, waiting for Gerard’s return from the Grotehof after tea, when the telephone rang.

It was a woman’s voice, light and sweet, enquiring if Mijnheer van Doorninck was home. ‘No,’ said Deborah, and wondered who it was, ‘I’m sorry—perhaps I could take a message?’ She spoke in the careful Dutch the professor had taught her, and hoped that the conversation wasn’t going to get too involved.

‘Is that Gerard’s wife?’ asked the voice, in English now, and when Deborah said a little uncertainly: ‘Why, yes—’ went on: ‘Oh, good. I’m Adelaide van Essen. My husband’s paediatrician at the Grotehof and a friend of Gerard. We got back from England last night and Coenraad telephoned me just now and told me about you. You don’t mind me ringing you up?’

‘I’m delighted—I don’t know any English people here yet.’

‘Well, come and meet me—us, for a start. Come this evening. I know it’s short notice, but I told Coenraad to ask Gerard to bring you to dinner—you will come?’

‘I’d love to.’ Deborah paused. ‘I’m not sure about Gerard, he works late quite a lot and often works at home.’

She had the impression that the girl at the other end of the line was concealing surprise. Then: ‘I’m sure he’ll make time. We haven’t seen each other for ages and the men are old friends. We live quite near you, in the Herengracht—is seven o’clock too early? Oh, and here’s our number in case you want to ring back. Till seven, then. I’m so looking forward to meeting you.’

Deborah went back to her chair. The voice had sounded nice, soft and gentle and friendly. She spent the next ten minutes or so in deciding what she should wear and still hadn’t made up her mind when Gerard came in.

His hullo was friendly and after he had enquired about her day, he took a chair near her. ‘I met a friend of mine at the Grotehof this afternoon,’ he told her. ‘Coenraad van Essen—he’s married to an English girl. They’re just back from England and they want us to go round for dinner this evening. Would you like to go? It’s short notice and I don’t know if it will upset any arrangements you may have made?’

She chose a strand of silk and threaded her needle. ‘His wife telephoned a few minutes ago. I’d like to go very much. She suggested seven o’clock, so I had better go and talk to Marijke.’

Marijke hadn’t started the cutlets and the cheese soufflé; Deborah, in her laborious Dutch and helped by a few words here and there from Wim, suggested that they should have them the following day instead and apologised for the short notice.

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