The Chain of Destiny by Betty Neels Page B

calmly. ‘I hadn’t expected to take my meals with your family.’
    Her companion said peevishly, ‘Professor Bowers-Bentinck said that it was correct for you to do so.’ She made an impatient sound. ‘I am like a bear on a chain.’
    â€˜No’, said Suzannah gently, ‘you are someone who has made a miraculous recovery and needs to be cherished until you are quite well and strong again.’
    Julie van Dijl said pettishly, ‘How good you sound—a little prig…’
    â€˜I really don’t know. I’ve never been quite sure what a prig was. But I have the professor’s instructions and I shall do my best to carry them out.’
    In her room she unpacked, drank the tea which had been brought, and took herself off to the bathroom where she lay for a long time in the blissfully hot water and thought about the weeks ahead of her. They weren’t going to be easy…
    Julie’s father was at dinner, a stout, middle-aged man who had very little to say, although he was kind enough to Suzannah, but he left the talk to his wife and daughter and it was Julie who dominated the conversation. Naturally enough, it was mostly of herself and her stay in London and the hospital; she had little to say that was good about that. The fact that the professor had saved her life, aided by the skill of the nursing staff, seemed to have evaded her—probably she had been too ill to realise the care she had received. She enlarged at length about the awful food, and the fact that, even in a private room, she had not been allowed visitors for weeks. Her parents had been there, of course, but she didn’t count them. ‘All my friends,’ she complained, ‘coming to cheer me up, and that awful dragon of a sister sending them away.’
    â€˜But now you are back home, lieveling ,’ her mother pointed out, ‘and almost your old self.’
    She had smiled across the table at Suzannah as she spoke, wordlessly apologising for her daughter’s criticism. ‘I am sure that Guy will find a great improvement when he comes to see you.’
    â€˜Well, I intend to have some fun before then, Mama.’ Julie shot a defiant look at Suzannah, who pretended not to see it. The salary was a most generous one; she began to see why.
    The first few days passed tolerably well; various friends came to see Julie, and her wardrobe was combed through and pronounced unwearable, but she showed no desire to go anywhere or do anything other than lounge around in her room, reading magazines and chatting with her friends. Suzannah coaxed her to take a short walk each day and saw her firmly into her bed each evening. The worst part was getting her to rest after lunch, something which was only achieved after a stormy tussle ending for the most part in tears. But once tucked up on her day-bed with a novel or magazine she slept within minutes, leaving Suzannah free to take her few hours of freedom.
    She didn’t dare go too far. She had begged a street map from the butler, who, sour though he might look, was helpful, and set about exploring the neighbouring streets so that within a few days she had a good idea of where she was; ten minutes’ brisk walk from the Scheveningseweg, the main road between den Haag and Scheveningen. There were parks to the left and right of the road, and trams trundling past every few minutes as well as buses. On her day off it would be an easy matter to get into the heart of the city. She looked forward to this; she realised after the first few evenings that a second dress was essential. Indeed, Juffrouw van Dijl had remarked tartly that when they had guests for dinner she would have to wear something more suitable. ‘Even if you are in the background,’ she pointed out, ‘you can’t look like a shop girl.’
    Suzannah took her tongue between her teeth whilerage bubbled. She said lightly, ‘I should imagine that shop girls dress a