Winter of Change

She frowned at her reflection as she smoothed her hair into its neat bun and did her face. If Mr van der Blocq had wakened her grandfather in order to pester him with more papers, then she would have something to say to him! He came out of the adjoining room as she left her own, giving her a wordless nod and standing aside for her to go down the stairs. She waited until they were both in the hall before she said: ‘I think you must be tiring Grandfather very much. I don’t think he should be disturbed any more today—there’s surely no need.’

He paused on his way to the study. ‘My dear good girl, may I remind you that I am a qualified physician as well as a surgeon, and as such am aware of your grandfather’s condition—better, I must remind you, than you yourself.’ He looked down his long nose at her. ‘Be good enough not to interfere.’

Mary Jane’s bosom heaved, her nice eyes sparkled with temper. ‘Well, really it’s not your business…’

He interrupted her. ‘Oh, but it is, unfortunately. I am here at your grandfather’s request to attend to his affairs—at his urgent request, I should remind you, before he should die, and here you are telling me what to do and what not to do. You’re a tiresome girl.’

With which parting shot, uttered in his perfect, faintly accented English, he went into the study, closing the door very gently behind him.

Mary Jane, a gentle-natured girl for the most part, flounced into the sitting room, and quite beside herself with temper, poured herself a generous measure of whisky. It was a drink she detested, but now it represented an act of defiance, she tossed off a second glass too. It was unfortunate that Mr van der Blocq chose to return after five minutes, by which time the whisky’s effects upon her hungry inside were at their highest; by then her head was feeling decidedly strange and her feet, when she walked to a chair, didn’t quite touch the floor. It was unfortunate too that he saw this the moment he entered the room and observed coldly, ‘Good God, woman, can’t I turn my back for one minute without you reaching for the whisky bottle—you reek of it!’ An exaggeration so gross that she instantly suspected that he had been spying upon her.

She said carefully in a resentful voice, ‘You’re enough to drive anyone to drink,’ the whisky urging her to add, ‘Are you married? If you are, I’m very sorry for your wife.’

He took her glass from her and set it down and poured himself a drink. ‘No, I’m not married,’ he said blandly, ‘so you may spare your sympathy.’ He sat down opposite her, crossed his long legs and asked, ‘What did you do before you took up nursing? Were you ever here, living permanently?’

She cleared her fuzzy mind. ‘No, I went to a boarding school, although I came here for the holidays, and then when I left school—when I was eighteen—I asked Grandfather if I might take up nursing and I went to Pope’s. I’ve only been home once a year since then.’

‘No boy-friends?’ She hesitated and he added, ‘I shall be your guardian, you know, I have to know a little about you.’

‘Well, no.’ Her head was clearer now. ‘I never had much chance to meet any—only medical students, you know, and the housemen, and of course they always went for the pretty girls.’ She spoke without self-pity and he offered no sympathy, nor did he utter some empty phrase about mythical good looks she knew she hadn’t got, anyway. He said merely, ‘Well, of course—I did myself, but one doesn’t always marry them, you know.’

She agreed, adding in a matter-of-fact voice, ‘Oh, I know that, I imagine young doctors usually marry where there’s some money—unless they’re brilliant with an assured future, and you can’t blame them—how else are they to get on?’

‘A sensible opinion with which I will not argue,’ he assured her, his tone so dry that her slightly flushed face went slowly scarlet. It was fortunate that Mrs Body created a diversion at that moment by telling them that dinner would be ready in fifteen minutes and would Mary Jane like to take a quick peep at the Colonel first?

She was up in his room, pottering around because she sensed that he wanted company for a few minutes. When Doctor Morris arrived she waited while he examined his patient, adjusted his treatment, asked if he was through with his business, nodded his satisfaction at the answer and wished him a good night. Downstairs again, he accepted the drink offered him, muttered something to Mr van der Blocq and turned to Mary Jane.

‘Your grandfather’s happy; he’s put his affairs in order, it’s just a question of keeping him content and comfortable. You’ll do that, I know, Mary Jane.’ He stood up. ‘I must be off, I’ve a couple more visits. Fabian, come to the car with me, will you?’

They talked very little over their meal and anything which they said had very little to do with the Colonel or what he had told them that day—indeed, Mr van der Blocq kept the conversation very much in his own hands, seeming not to notice her long silences and monosyllabic replies. She went to bed early, leaving him sitting by the fire, looking quite at home, with Major at his feet and still more papers on the table before him.

Once ready for bed, she went through to her grandfather’s room, to find him awake, so she pulled up a chair to the dim lamp and made herself comfortable, declaring that she wasn’t sleepy either. After a while he dozed off and so did she, to waken much later to find Mr van der Blocq standing looking down at her. She wasn’t sure of the expression on his face, but what ever it was it changed to faint annoyance as she got silently to her feet. He said briefly, ‘Go to bed,’ and sat down in the chair she had vacated.

She was awakened by his hand on her shoulder. She sat up at once with an urgent whispered ‘Grandfather?’ and when he nodded and handed her dressing gown from a chair, she jumped out of bed, thrust her arms into its sleeves anyhow and was half way to the door in her bare feet when he reminded her, ‘Your slippers—it’s cold.’ Before she quite reached the door he caught her by the arm. ‘Your grandfather wants to say something to you—don’t try and stop him; he’s quite conscious and as comfortable as he can be. I’ve sent for Morris.’

The Colonel was wide awake and she went straight to the bed and took his hand with a steady smile. He squeezed her fingers weakly.

‘Plenty of guts—like me,’ he whispered with satisfaction. ‘Can’t abide moaning women. Something I want you to do. Always wanted you to meet my friend—Fabian’s uncle—he’s ill too. Go and look after him—bad-tempered fellow, can’t find a nurse who’ll stay. Promised Fabian you’d go.’ He looked at her. ‘Promise?’

She said instantly, ‘Yes, Grandfather, I promise. I’ll look after him.’

‘Won’t be for long—Fabian will see to everything.’

She glanced across at the man standing on the other side of the bed, looking, despite pyjamas and dressing gown, as impassive and withdrawn as he always did. She wondered, very briefly, if he had any feelings at all; if so, they were buried deep. He returned her look with one of his own, unsmiling and thoughtful, and then went to the door. ‘That’s Morris’s car—I’ll let him in and wake Mrs Body.’

The Colonel died a couple of hours later, in his sleep, a satisfied little smile on his old face so that Mary Jane felt that to cry would be almost an insult—besides, had he not told her that she had guts? She did all the things she had to do with a white set face, drank the tea Mrs Body gave her, then had a bath and dressed to join Mr van der Blocq at the breakfast table, where she ate nothing at all but talked brightly about the weather. Afterwards, thinking about it, she had to admit that he had been a veritable tower of strength, organising a tearful Mrs Body and a still more tearful Lily, arranging everything without fuss and a minimum of discussion, telephoning the newspapers, old friends, the rector…

She came downstairs from making the beds just as he came out of the study and Mrs Body was coming from the kitchen with the coffee tray. He poured her a cup, told her to drink it in a no-nonsense voice, and when she had, marched her off for a walk, Major at their heels. It was a fine morning but cold, and Mary Jane, in her sweater and slacks and an old jacket snatched from the back porch, was aware that she looked plainer than even she thought possible—not that she cared. She walked unwillingly beside her companion, not speaking, but presently the soft air and the quiet peace of the countryside soothed her; she even began to feel grateful to him for arranging her day and making it as easy as he could for her. She felt impelled to tell him this, to be told in a brisk impersonal way that as her guardian it was his moral obligation to do so.

He went on: ‘We need to talk; there is a good deal to be arranged. You will have to leave Pope’s—you realised that already, I imagine. I think it may be best if I wrote to your Matron or whatever she is called nowadays, and explain your circumstances. Your grandfather’s solicitor will come here to see you—and me, but there should be no difficulties there, as everything was left in good order. I think it may be best if you return to Holland with me on the day after the funeral; there’s no point in glooming around the house on your own, and I can assure you that my uncle needs a nurse as soon as possible—his condition is rapidly worsening and extremely difficult.’ He paused to throw a stone for Major. ‘He was a good and clever man, and I am fond of him.’

Mary Jane stood still and looked at him. ‘You’ve thought of everything,’ she stated, and missed the gleam in his eyes. ‘I only hope I’ll be able to manage him and that he’ll like me, because I promised Grandfather…’

Her voice petered out and although she gulped and sniffed she was quite unable to stop bursting into tears. She was hardly aware of Mr van der Blocq whisking her into his arms, only of the nice solid feel of his shoulder and his silent sympathy. Presently she raised a ruined face to his. ‘So sorry,’ she said politely. ‘I don’t cry as a general rule—I daresay I’m tired.’

‘I daresay you are. We’ll walk back now, and after lunch, which you will eat, you shall lie on the sofa in the study and have a nap while I finish off a few odd jobs.’

He let her go and strolled down to the water’s edge while she wiped her eyes and blew her nose and re-tied her hair, and when they started back, he took her arm, talking, deliberately, of the Colonel.

Under his eye she ate her lunch, and still under it, tucked herself up in front of the study fire and fell instantly asleep. She awoke to the clatter of the tea tray as Mrs Body set it on the table beside the sofa and a moment later Doctor Morris came in.

The two men began at once to talk, and gradually, as she poured the tea and passed the cake, Mary Jane joined in. Before the doctor got up to go she realised with surprise that she had laughed several times. The surprise must have shown on her face, for Mr van der Blocq said with uncanny insight: ‘That’s better—your grandfather liked you to laugh, didn’t he? Now, if you feel up to it, tell me how you stand at Pope’s. A month’s notice is normal, I suppose—have you any holidays due? Any commitments in London?’

‘I’ve a week’s holiday before Christmas, that’s all, and I’m supposed to give a month’s notice. There’s nothing to keep me in London, but all my clothes and things are at Pope’s.’

‘We will pick them up as we go. What is the name of your matron?’

‘Miss Shepherd—she’s called the Principal Nursing Officer now.’

‘Presumably in the name of progress, but what a pity. I shall telephone her now.’ Which he did, with a masterly mixture of authority and charm. Mary Jane listened with interest to his exact explanations, which he delivered unembellished by sentiment and without any effort to enlist sympathy. It didn’t surprise her in the least that within five minutes he had secured her resignation as from that moment.

When he had replaced the receiver, she remarked admiringly, ‘My goodness, however did you manage it? I thought I would have to go back.’

‘Manage what?’ he asked coolly. ‘I made a reasonable request and received a reasonable reply to it—I fail to see anything extraordinary in that.’

He returned to his writing, leaving her feeling snubbed, so that her manner towards him, which had begun to warm a little, cooled. It made her feel cold too, as though he had shut a door that had been ajar and left her outside. She went to the kitchen presently on some excuse or other, and sat talking to Mrs Body, who was glad of the company anyway.

‘You’ve not had time to make any plans, Miss Mary Jane?’ she hazarded.

‘No, Mrs Body. You know that Grandfather left me this house, don’t you? You will go on living here, won’t you? I don’t think I could bear it if you and Lily went away.’

The housekeeper gave her a warm smile. ‘Bless you, my dear, of course we’ll stay—it would break my heart to go after all these years, and Lily wouldn’t go, I’m sure. But didn’t I hear Doctor van der Blocq say that you would be going back to Holland with him?’

Mary Jane explained. ‘It won’t be for long, I imagine—if you wouldn’t mind being here—do you suppose Lily would come and live in so that you’ve got company? I’m not sure about the money yet, but I’m sure there’ll be enough to pay her. Shall I ask her?’

‘A good idea, Miss Mary Jane. Supposing I mention it to her first, once everything’s seen to? I must say the doctor gets things done—everything’s going as smooth as silk and he thinks of everything. That reminds me, he told me to move your things back to your old room.

Mary Jane looked surprised. ‘Oh, did he? How thoughtful of him,’ and then because she was young and healthy even though she was sad: ‘What’s for dinner—I’m hungry.’

Mrs Body beamed. ‘A nice bit of beef. For a foreign gentleman the doctor isn’t finicky about his food, is he? and I always say there’s nothing to beat a nice roast. There’s baked apples and cream for afters.’

‘I’ll lay the table,’ Mary Jane volunteered, and kept herself busy with that until Mr van der Blocq came out of the study, when she offered him a drink, prudently declining one herself before going upstairs to put on the grey dress once more. The sight of her face, puffy with tears and tense with her stored-up feelings, did little to reassure her, and when she joined Mr van der Blocq in the sitting room, the brief careless glance he accorded her deflated what little ego she had left. Sitting at table, watching him carving the beef with a nicety which augured well for his skill at his profession, she found herself wishing that he didn’t regard her with such indifference—not, she told herself sensibly, that his opinion of her mattered one jot. He wasn’t at all the sort of man she… He interrupted her thoughts.

‘It seems to me a good idea if you were to call me Fabian. I do not like being addressed as Mr van der Blocq—inaccurately, as it happens. Even Mrs Body manages to address me, erroneously, as Doctor dear.’ He smiled faintly as he looked at her, his eyebrows raised.

She studied his face. ‘Well, if you want me to,’ her voice was unenthusiastic, ‘only I don’t know you very well, and you’re…’

‘A great deal older than you? Indeed I am.’

It annoyed her that he didn’t tell her how much older, but she went on, ‘I was going to say that I find it a little difficult, because Grandfather told me that you were an important surgeon and I wouldn’t dream of calling a consultant at Pope’s by his first name.’

The preposterous idea made her smile, but he remained unamused, only saying in a bored fashion. ‘Well, you are no longer a nurse at Pope’s—you are Miss Pettigrew with a pleasant little property of your own and sufficient income with which to live in comfort.’

She served him a baked apple and passed the cream. ‘What’s a sufficient income?’ she wanted to know.

He waved a careless, well kept hand, before telling her.

She had been on the point of sampling her own apple, but now she laid down her spoon and said sharply, ‘That’s nonsense—that’s a fortune!’

‘Not in these days, it will be barely enough. There’s your capital, of course, but I shall be in charge of that.’ His tone implied that he was discussing something not worthy of his full attention, and this nettled her.

‘You talk as though it were chicken feed!’

‘That was not my intention. I’m sure you are a competent young woman and well able to enjoy life on such a sum. The solicitor will inform you as to the exact money.’

‘Then why do I have to have you for a guardian?’

He put down his fork and said patiently, ‘You heard your grandfather—I shall attend to any business to do with investments and so forth and have complete control of your capital. I shall of course see that your income is paid into your bank until you assume full control over your affairs when you are thirty. It will also be necessary for me to give my consent to your marriage should you wish to marry.’

She was bereft of words. ‘Your consent—if I should choose’ She almost choked. ‘It’s not true!’

‘I am not in the habit of lying. It is perfectly true, set down in black and white by your grandfather, and I intend to carry out his wishes to the letter.’

‘You mean that if anyone wants to marry me he’ll have to ask you?’

He nodded his handsome head.

‘But that’s absurd! I never heard such nonsense…how could you possibly know—have any idea…?’

His voice had been cool, now it was downright cold. ‘My dear good girl, let me assure you that I find my duties just as irksome as you find them unnecessary.’

This shook her. ‘Oh, will you? I suppose they’ll take up some of your time. I’ll try not to bother you, then—I daresay there’ll be no need for us to see much of each other.’

His lips twitched. ‘Probably not, although I’m afraid that while you are at my uncle’s house you will see me from time to time—he’s too old to manage his own affairs, and my cousin, who lives with him, isn’t allowed to do more than run the house.’

They were in the sitting room drinking their coffee when she ventured: ‘Will you tell me a little about your uncle? I don’t know where he lives or anything about him, and since I am to stay there…’

Mr van der Blocq frowned. ‘Why should I object?’ he wanted to know testily. ‘But I must be brief; I’m expecting one or two telephone calls presently. He lives in Friesland, a small village called Midwoude. It is in fact on the border between Friesland and Groningen. The country is charming and there is a lake close by. The city of Groningen is only a few miles away; Leeuwarden is less than an hour by car. You may find it a little lonely, but I think not, for you are happy here, aren’t you? My uncle, I have already told you, is difficult, but my cousin Emma will be only too glad to make a friend of you.’

‘And you—you live somewhere else?’

‘I live and work in Groningen.’ He spoke pleasantly and with the quite obvious intention of saying nothing more. She had to be content with that, and shortly after that, when he went to answer his telephone call, Mary Jane went into the kitchen, helped Mrs Body around the place, laid the table for breakfast and went up to bed.

Now if I were a gorgeous creature with golden hair and long eyelashes, she mused as she wandered up the staircase, we might be spending the evening together—probably he had some flaxen-haired beauty waiting for him in Groningen. For lack of anything better to do and to keep her thoughts in a cheerful channel, she concocted a tale about Mr van der Blocq in which the blonde played a leading part, and he for once smiled frequently and never once addressed the creature as ‘my dear good girl’.

The next few days passed quickly; there was a good deal to attend to and Major had to be taken for his walk, and time had to be spent with the Colonel’s friends who called in unexpected numbers. The lawyer came too and spent long hours in the study with her guardian, although he had very little to say to her.

It wasn’t until after the funeral, when the last of the neighbours and friends had gone, that old Mr North asked her to join him in the study and bring Mrs Body and Lily with her. Mary Jane half listened while he read the legacies which had been left to them both, it wasn’t until they had gone and she was sitting by the fire with Fabian at the other end of the room that Mr North gave her the details of her own inheritance. The money seemed a vast sum to her; she had had no idea that her grandfather had had so much, even the income she was to receive seemed a lot of money. Mr North rambled on rather, talking about stocks and shares and securities and ended by saying:

‘But you won’t need to worry your head about this, Mary Jane, Mr van der Blocq will see to everything for you. I understand that you will be travelling to Holland tomorrow. That will make a nice change and you will return here ready to take your place in local society. I take it that Mrs Body will remain?’

She told him that yes, she would, and moreover Lily had agreed to live in as well, so that the problem of having someone to look after the house and Major was solved.

‘You have no idea how long you will be away?’ asked Mr North.

‘None,’ she glanced at Fabian, who took no notice at all, ‘but I’m sure that Mrs Body will look after everything beautifully.’

The old gentleman nodded. ‘And you? You will be sorry to leave your work at the hospital, I expect.’

She remembered Sister Thompson. ‘Yes, though I was thinking of changing to another hospital.’ She smiled at him. ‘Now I shan’t need to.’

He went shortly afterwards and she spent the rest of the day packing what clothes she had with her and making final arrangements with Mrs Body before taking Major for a walk by the lake. It was a clear evening with the moon shining. Mary Jane shivered a little despite her coat, not so much with cold as the knowledge that she would miss the peace and quiet even though she had it to come back to.

She went indoors presently and into the study to wish Fabian good night. He stood by her grandfather’s desk while she made a few remarks about their journey and then said a little shyly, ‘You’ve been very kind and—and efficient. I don’t know what we should have done without your help. I’m very grateful.’

He rustled the papers in his hand and thanked her stiffly, and she went to her room, wondering if he would ever unbend, or was he going to remain coldly polite and a little scornful of her for the rest of their relationship? Eight years, she told herself as she got into bed, seemed a long time. She would be thirty and quite old, and Fabian would be…she started to guess and fell asleep, still guessing.

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