Eline Vere (29 page)

. . .

They were bound for a farmstead that was owned by an old acquaintance of the Verstraetens. The overladen charabanc rolled along Loosduinseweg under a blazing sky, with the occasional steam tram passing them as it came the other way. Madame Verstraeten and Mathilda sat in the back with Nico between them, Marie, Lili and Frédérique sat in the middle facing Paul, Etienne and Georges, and the front bench was occupied by Ernestine, Madeleine and the Verstraeten boys. Johan sat on the box, while the dickey was shared by Cateau van der Stoor and Jan. It was to be a jolly family
outing, nothing formal, so everyone could relax and enjoy themselves. Marie dispensed handfuls of cherries from a large basket, and Etienne, between mouthfuls, told them that according to Marguerite van Laren going on an outing in a charabanc was a very bourgeois thing to do.

‘I suppose the Van Larens always go on their outings in a liveried carriage, complete with footmen in powdered wigs!' said Georges.

‘Naturally! With the ladies wearing great billowing skirts like in the Watteau paintings, and leading little lambs by pink ribbons!' rejoined Lili, smiling fondly at Georges.

There was much hilarity at this; they were all in high spirits, the womenfolk in their simple cotton frocks as much as the young men in their light summer suits and straw boaters.

‘Do have some cherries, Cateau,' said Marie, passing her a handful. ‘You can share them with Jan.'

‘Oh yes, we'll share!' exclaimed Jan, with a roguish air. ‘Shall I show you a trick, Cateau?'

‘What sort of trick?'

‘See these twin cherries? Well, put one of them in your mouth.'

‘What for?' asked Cateau, doing as he suggested.

‘Then I'll have the other one. Look, like this!' the rascal replied, quickly brushing her lips with his before biting into the second cherry.

‘Jan! Behave yourself!' scolded Madame.

‘She fell for it! Silly Cateau!' giggled Freddie.

‘I had no idea what he was going to do!' protested Cateau. ‘Wretched boy!'

‘Nonsense, you don't mean that. Of course you knew!' scoffed Paul.

The charabanc rattled on through a flat landscape of meadows with sleek, grazing cows whose black-and-white coats gleamed like satin, past endless rows of pollard willows unfurling their silvery fans.

‘Willows are such melancholy trees, don't you agree, Georges?' asked Lili with feeling.

‘There she goes, waxing poetical again!' Etienne cried out. ‘Come on then, Lili, let's hear an ode to the willow.'

‘I can't say anything these days without everyone poking fun at me, goodness knows why,' she moaned.

Now it was Lili's turn to be teased, and they all laughed heartily as they munched their cherries.

The road began to climb towards undulating horizons. Here and there stood a country retreat, lost in the greenery, or a farmhouse surrounded by fields planted with carrot and cauliflower or beanstalks in neat rows, and gardens ablaze with sunflowers, peonies and hollyhocks. A washerwoman wringing out clothes on the bank of a stream drew herself up to smile at them as they passed, and two youngsters ran after the carriage while Jan and Cateau threw them cherries.

. . .

The road ran between fields of yellow corn and green flax dotted with blue cornflowers and red poppies, rising and falling until finally they reached the farm. The farmer's wife appeared at the gate, smiling broadly, and the young people sprang down from the charabanc while Madame Verstraten and Mathilda took charge of unloading the cargo of boxes, cloth-covered baskets and hampers.

The coachman unhitched his steaming horses and led them to the stable.

Jan Verstraeten, Cateau and the Van Rijssel foursome made a beeline for the two swings, but not before Jan had assured Madame van Rijssel that he would be very careful and Cateau had promised to pay particular attention to little Nico.

‘They're just like a married couple with their offspring!' laughed Marie, following the merry band with her eyes.

‘I'm going to chase them away from the swings shortly, because I want a turn myself!' declared Etienne, already a little light-headed from the sun and the fresh air. ‘Lili, will you join me on the other swing? If De Woude will let you, that is!' he whispered, rolling his eyes.

‘De Woude has no say over what I do! But no thanks, I don't like swings. They always give me a headache.'

‘But I just love swings, Etienne!' cried Marie. ‘So I'll be counting on you as a gentleman to push me as high as I can go, really high, do you hear? Up to the clouds!'

‘Let's go and find a nice spot to sit – over there, by those dunes,' suggested Paul.

‘He thinks it's time for a rest, how typical! But my dear Paul, it's hot in the dunes,' said Freddie.

‘No, there are some trees, oaks I think, over there, beyond the pavilion.'

‘All right, let's go. It's too hot for anything strenuous, anyway. I agree with Paul: I like a lazy outing. Just lying in the cool green shade, watching the clouds drift by overhead – lovely,' said Lili.

‘How poetic! Trust Lili to turn sheer idleness into a romantic occasion,' laughed Marie. ‘For goodness' sake, De Woude, why don't you say something? Here we are, all chatting away while you're off in a trance, composing verses in your head, I shouldn't wonder.'

Georges denied this with good humour, and they all set off, pushing aside the leafy twigs of overhanging bushes on their path. Lili was frightened out of her wits by a spider descending a long silvery thread, and De Woude's removal of the insect gave rise to fresh bursts of laughter and jokes about Lili being a damsel in distress and Georges a knight in shining armour coming to her rescue.

‘What have we done to deserve all this attention, may I ask?' said Georges.

‘Never mind, Georges, take no notice!' said Lili. ‘They think they're being funny. Oh, Paul, where are you taking us? It's so hot, and quite slippery underfoot, too. How much further is it to that nice spot of yours? All these tiresome branches – ouch!'

She broke off to inspect her finger, which she had scratched on a thorn.

‘Why don't you let me walk in front, then,' offered Georges, and he spoke so softly and slipped ahead of her so quietly that the others, still laughing heartily, did not notice. He and Lili fell behind, with him carefully holding back each intruding twig to clear the way for her.

‘Let them laugh! You don't mind about them, do you?' he asked, a faraway, happy look in his eyes.

‘Not in the least!' she replied calmly. She shook her head, on which she wore a wide sun-hat bedecked with wild flowers, and gave an arch smile. ‘It's our turn to laugh at them, now. Who's that shrieking at the top of his voice?'

‘Etienne, of course!' said Georges.

Paul and Etienne had found a mossy bank beneath a young chestnut tree, from which an attractive panorama was to be seen: a stretch of meadowland, grazing cows, straight lines of water-filled ditches glittering in the bright sunlight, a windmill beyond, and in the distance a line of poplars, slender and tall.

When Lili and Georges caught up with the others they found them in raptures.

‘This is splendid!' said Paul. ‘Plenty of cool moss to lie on and a fine, sweeping view.'

Everyone agreed, and they plumped themselves down on the ground, weary from their expedition. On the dark, dappled sward lay a scattering of discarded hats and lacy parasols, while stray sunbeams threw patches of shivering light on the crush of light cotton skirts.

‘It's not so shady here after all. At any rate, I am in the full sun,' said Lili, putting up her pink parasol. She shot an indignant glance at Paul, who had claimed a spot of deep shade, where he now lay sprawled on his back with a pocket handkerchief over his face.

‘Hush, Lili, no more talking now, time for a nap!' he muttered.

‘It's all very well for you to take a nap, but I'm burning to a crisp in the sun.'

‘Shall we go and look for a better spot, Lili?' ventured Georges.

‘Yes, you do that – good idea,' said Paul.

‘And give us a whistle when you've found one,' said Etienne.

Georges promised he would, and set off down the sandy slope with Lili clinging to his arm.

‘They won't whistle, just you wait and see,' said Etienne.

‘Lili's so fussy!' yawned Paul.

His lethargy was too much for Etienne, who seized Paul's ankles and dragged him some way, much to the girls' amusement.

However, it was very hot, and as they were all beginning to feel lazy, they decided unanimously to wait until after lunch to take a proper walk. When peace had been restored between Paul and Etienne, Frédérique laid her head on Etienne's knees, and he tickled her ear with a blade of grass while Paul pretended to sleep. Marie sat very still, moodily gazing out at the meadows and the ditches and the cows.

. . .

The path Georges and Lili had taken was easy. Lili felt herself floating downwards as she held on to Georges' shoulders with both hands, gasping with delight as he went faster and faster. He had given her wings!

‘How silly of them to stay where there isn't any proper shade; look, there's a clump of trees over there!'

‘Those chestnuts?'

‘They look promising. Shall we go and take a look?'

‘Very well.'

They made their way to the trees and found themselves in a lush, shadowy glade surrounded on all sides by blistering sunshine.

‘Isn't it lovely here?' cried Lili. ‘Look, wild violets!'

She seated herself on the mossy bank and began to pick the wildflowers within her reach. Georges sank down at her feet, too happy to say very much, and toyed with the red tassels of her pink parasol.

‘You ought to give a whistle, Georges, as a signal for the others to come,' she said demurely, knowing full well that he would not.

‘I can't whistle, I never could!' he responded jovially.

She laughed and began to pelt him with her violets, which he promptly gathered into a little bunch and put in his buttonhole. Then he took her hand.

‘Do you love me?' he said, holding her eyes. She placed her small white hands on his shoulders and leant forward, returning his gaze.

‘What?' she murmured tenderly.

‘Do you love me?' he repeated, and she leant closer, so that her hair brushed against his lips, receiving kisses.

‘Yes,' she said, leaning her forehead against his. ‘Yes, I love you.'

They sat thus a while, and notwithstanding the rather uncomfortable position Georges was in, he delighted in feeling the weight of her sweet head. When she finally drew herself up, he moved to sit beside her, then lifted her arm and laid it around his neck.

‘By the way, my sister Emilie–' he began.

‘What about her?' she said.

‘Emilie has had a talk with my father. Don't you think she might talk to your parents too?'

‘Oh, yes!' she replied, beaming. ‘But I don't know, I'm not sure whether–'

‘Emilie is a very good talker.'

‘You love her very much, don't you?'

‘Yes, and I love you, too.'

With her hand on his neck she drew him a fraction closer, and kissed the side of his head – the first time she had ever kissed him. The soft, summer air beneath the leafy canopy was heavy with the scent of violets mingled with moss, and she ruffled the tawny hair above his ears with her fingers. The sensation was so delightful as to make her swoon away.

She listened blissfully to his low voice relating the conversation he had had with his sister, at a time when he didn't even know whether Lili really cared for him. He had felt very anxious at first, but now he was full of confidence, whatever challenges the future might hold.

‘Emilie thought you wouldn't consider marrying a man without money,' he said. ‘Is that true? Won't you have a penniless husband?'

‘Are you penniless?'

‘Well, I'm not exactly rich.'

‘All right then, I shall have a penniless husband. Oh, I can be very economical, you know. Sometimes I make one month's dress allowance last for three, and I think I manage to look all right, don't I?'

‘You look lovely.'

‘But you don't strike me as being so very economical yourself. I think you probably have a great many more needs than I do.'

‘All I need is you. You are everything to me.'

‘Does Emilie like me?'

‘Of course she does. She'll be like a mother to us. And you will come with me no matter where they send me? To Cairo? Constantinople? The Cape?'

‘To Lapland if need be. Anywhere at all.'

‘My own little wife!'

He held her close to his heart, and kissed her. The air was still, the world fell away, and they were alone in paradise, united in a love of such magnitude as had never been known before.

. . .

‘Mama wants to know if you're coming to lunch!' shouted young Johan van Rijssel. ‘How lazy you all are! You look half asleep already.'

He clambered up the slope and pounced on Paul's long legs to shake them. Frédérique and Etienne sat up, saying that yes, they were quite hungry.

‘Hungry from doing nothing, I suppose!' cried Jan, who came running. ‘We've been on the swings and the seesaw, and we had a ride in the donkey cart and climbed on top of a hay wagon, and all you've been doing is dozing!'

‘Tut-tut, more respect for your elders, if you please,' said Marie, with mock solemnity.

They all trooped back to the farmhouse the way they had come, picking their way through the bushes, when they heard a whistle behind them. Looking round they saw Georges and Lili exchanging complicit smiles.

‘We found an excellent spot, wonderfully cool,' said Georges.

‘Wonderfully cool,' echoed Lili.

The pair of them were assailed with questions and knowing looks, which they tried to deflect by slowing their pace, although they took care not to arrive much later than the others at table.