Little Girl Lost (11 page)

Alice Sanderson saw her hesitation. ‘The bathers are quite secluded,' she advised her. ‘No one can see them, except of course those who are already in the sea, but the swimmers tend not to come near the huts; the water isn't deep enough.'

‘I – I can't swim,' Rosamund told her, ‘although I feel sure I would like to bathe if I felt I wouldn't fall.'

‘There's a rope to hold on to, and a female attendant to help you in. It's great fun, and very exhilarating.' She nodded towards Florrie, waiting at a respectful distance. ‘Your maid could come too. There are bathing costumes for hire if she doesn't have one.'

‘Oh, I bought one for her,' Rosamund said. ‘I thought she could accompany me into the water.'

‘Well there we are then. Shall we say at about eleven? I believe the weather is staying warm for the whole week.'

The next morning Florrie packed a bag with the bathing costumes and escorted Rosamund down to the sands. Frederik and Margriet had gone ahead; the Sanderson children had promised to teach Margriet to swim and Frederik had also taken his costume. Rosamund didn't want her husband or daughter to see her embarrassment.

There was room for four in the hut but Mrs Sanderson commandeered one for the three of them. It had a door at each end, one for entering fully clothed and the other to be exited once the machine was pulled into the sea. It was painted white on the inside and had mirrored cupboards for personal belongings such as hairbrushes and combs. A drawer held clean towels and there was a rubber bag for wet towels and costumes after bathing; the floor was peppered with holes to allow any water to drain away.

Once they were on board the doors were closed, and the horse-drawn hut rumbled forward across the sands and into the sea. Rosamund sat on a bench whilst Florrie helped her out of her stockings and petticoats. Then Florrie unfastened her mistress's corset and withdrew it, slipped the pantaloons beneath her unbuttoned gown, popped the tunic over her head and withdrew the gown so that Rosamund was never seen uncovered. Mrs Sanderson had no such modesty; she was not wearing corset or stockings but only a simple gown with one petticoat, and these she removed before pulling on her knee-length pantaloons and tunic, unafraid of showing her nakedness.

Mrs Sanderson must have been aware of Rosamund's shock; Florrie gave her a sidelong glance before she began her own undressing. Mrs Sanderson smiled. ‘Don't mind me, my dear,' she said. ‘We're all the same under our clothing. If Mrs Vandergroene were not here today I would swim naked, like the men. Some women do, you know.'

‘Surely not, Mrs Sanderson!' Rosamund was horrified.

‘If we were pulled well out into the sea, yes indeed.' She tucked her hair under a swimming hat. ‘No one can see your body when you're under water, and it's such a liberating feeling to be unrestricted by clothing.' She sighed. ‘But there we are, prudery reigns, I'm afraid. Come along then, ladies, we've arrived. Shall we bathe?'

She opened the door and dived straight into the water, coming up gasping. ‘Wonderful,' she cried, and dipping in again she swam away.

Rosamund clung to the attendant who helped her down the steps and into the water. It was freezing cold and came above her waist. She screamed. ‘Oh, no, I can't bear it, it's so cold! Let me out. Let me out!'

‘Get back out again then, ma'am,' the woman said, ‘and then come back in. It's not so bad a second time. Come on, miss,' she said to Florrie, who was dithering above them. ‘Just jump in; you'll not drown.'

Florrie took a deep breath and, used to obeying orders, did as she was told. The splash as she jumped in made Rosamund shriek.

‘Mama, Mama! Florrie, look at me!'

Rosamund, her teeth chattering, looked around for her daughter, and as she did so the attendant pulled her into the water again. It wasn't true that it wasn't as bad the second time. It was.

‘Mama, I'm swimming!'

Rosamund steeled herself to look up and saw Margriet on her father's back as he swam only yards away from her. ‘Oh, be careful, be careful,' she cried out. ‘The water is deep.'

‘No it's not.' Frederik laughed and stood up, showing that the water only came to his waist. Margriet clung on to his back.

‘It's such fun, Mama. I can nearly swim.'

After five more minutes Rosamund got out, shivering uncontrollably. Health-giving or not, nothing would ever induce her to sea bathe again. She sat on the bench and waited. Where was Florence, the wretched girl? The attendant seemed to have disappeared too, and Rosamund wondered how long she would have to wait. She rubbed her feet and legs with a towel and then, not liking the feel of wet clothing on her, she wrapped the towel round her waist and pulled off the pantaloons and tunic.

‘So undignified,' she muttered, but as she rubbed her arms and shoulders her body began to glow. Knowing she couldn't fasten her corset by herself, she slipped on her petticoat and then her gown and jacket, and soon she was warm.

Florrie had loved the water, she said, as they walked back up the hill towards the Spa for a cup of hot chocolate. She and Mrs Sanderson would have stayed in longer if it hadn't been for Rosamund's insistence that she had had quite enough, thank you, and must be pulled back up the beach. To make up for it, Rosamund had rescinded her vow and invited Mrs Sanderson to join her for a hot drink, but Mrs Sanderson had politely declined.

For Margriet the month went far too quickly. She had made great friends of the Sanderson children, and Mrs Sanderson had taken them up to the castle several times and didn't seem to mind if they climbed on the ancient walls. Frederik saw a huge difference in his daughter. Rosamund did too; the girl was showing another side of her personality, a merry, unrestrained side, not one Rosamund felt she could understand. Sometimes she was disobedient too, removing her bonnet when she thought her mother wasn't watching and ignoring Rosamund's warnings that her face would freckle in the sun. For some reason Margriet didn't seem to care about freckles.

On the last day before they were due to go home, Frederik and Hendrik Sanderson sat side by side on the sands watching the boats coming in to the harbour and keeping an eye on their children, who were playing a game of Catch.

‘I'm so grateful to you for telling me about the letting agent,' Frederik said. ‘This holiday has been wonderful for Margriet; she was such a solitary little girl before she met your children.'

‘She's your only child?' Hendrik asked. ‘That's a pity.'

Frederik nodded. ‘Yes. We haven't been fortunate enough to have more.' He paused. Rosamund's frigidity wasn't a subject for discussion. Even here on holiday she had rejected his loving advances, alarmed that Florrie or Margriet might hear in the small cottage. He wasn't the kind of man to insist, but he was frustrated and often felt depressed by the situation. It was grounds for separation, but he couldn't do that either. Rosamund would die of shame and humiliation.

‘We're expecting another.' Hendrik drew on a cigar and blew smoke rings in the air. ‘Alice is delighted, and I am too. She's had a couple of miscarriages since Julia was born and so we waited until she was fully recovered.' He grinned. ‘It was difficult, but she threatened me with all kinds of ghastly accidents if I should stray. Not that I ever would. She's my whole life.'

Frederik thought of Alice Sanderson swimming in the sea and trooping off with the children for adventures at the castle, which meant a steep walk up the headland and some strenuous games at the top. On the way back she led them through the boat yards to explore the old streets and the harbour before she treated them to tea and cake. The children were exhausted by the time they reached their lodgings again, but she didn't appear to be.

‘She's an amazing woman,' he murmured. ‘I trust everything will go well this time.'

Hendrik nodded. ‘So do I. It must be rotten being a woman and having to go through all that. It frightens me to death even thinking of it.'

‘It frightens women too, I should think,' Frederik said, knowing that it frightened Rosamund.

The next morning they all met to say goodbye before the Vandergroenes departed for home. The seabirds screeched overhead and Margriet was sure they were saying ‘Don't go. Don't go'. She was so pleased to have met Imogen and Julia and built up a friendship before starting school that she shouted and waved when she saw them, and was admonished by her mother for being unruly.

Most of their luggage had already gone off in the cart. Florrie was helped up to sit beside the driver of the clarence and Margriet hopped from one foot to another as she waited for her father to assist her mother into the carriage. The driver cracked his whip and the carriage jerked as they drew away, and Margriet craned out of the window for the last glimpse of the sea, eagerly remarking on what she could see. Her mother interrupted. ‘Settle down now, Margriet. The holiday has come to an end. There will be no more lax behaviour, only decorum, if you please. Remember your manners.'

Margriet pressed her lips together. ‘Yes, Mama.' She sat back on her little seat and glanced across at her father. He had his head back against the seat and his eyes were closed, but he slowly opened one of them and pulled his mouth down into a comical pout, and she felt a bubble of mirth creeping up which she hastily changed into a cough.

‘I've had such a lovely time,' she said. ‘I do hope we can come to Scarborough next year. Although,' she added thoughtfully, ‘Mrs Sanderson is going to have a new baby, so perhaps they won't be able to come. It won't be able to play on the sands with us for quite a long time.'

Rosamund drew in a breath. ‘What! Whoever told you that?' She put her hand to her forehead. ‘Oh, my word! I can't believe I'm hearing such a thing from my own child's lips.'

Margriet opened and closed her mouth. What had she said? She looked from her mother to her father. Rosamund seemed on the point of collapse, whilst her father's face was set. He reached over and put his hand on hers. ‘It's all right,' he murmured.

Margriet thought he was cross, and miserably wondered if she was the unwitting cause of his anger and her mother's obvious distress. But he turned to her mother. ‘Rosamund,' he said patiently, ‘the Sanderson children are aware of the happy news, which they learned from their parents. I too was told by Hendrik that his wife is with child after several difficult years. For them it is a time for rejoicing.'

Rosamund cast him a cold glance. ‘It is not a subject for general discussion and certainly not for children to know. I am once again forced to consider the suitability of Margriet's attending the same school as the Sanderson children. They are not a good influence.'

‘Is that so?' he muttered so quietly that Margriet barely heard him. ‘We will discuss this at home, but I am telling you now that I will have the final say on the matter.'

Frederik longed to return to Netherlands and visit Cornelia, yet he had no real reason to do so. He was busy in his Hull office; there had been many orders whilst he'd been away and although his staff was capable of dealing with enquiries and ongoing business he liked to follow up new contacts with either a personal letter or a visit. He decided that he wouldn't sail to Netherlands again until at least the end of September, by which time Margriet would be settled in her new school.

He told Rosamund that he would walk Margriet to school with Florrie every day for a week, until she was sure that their daughter was in no danger of running into any unsavoury character who might ruin her reputation before she even possessed one. September began with Margriet enthusiastically ready for school early each morning and at the end of the day eager to tell of the things she had been taught. Florrie collected her every afternoon, and on the way home they would stop to chat to people she knew and tell them about Scarborough.

Frederik wrote to Cornelia, asking how she was and insisting that she should not hesitate to ask him for help or advice if she should need it, or just write in friendship, he hoped.
Do not think that you must have a reason to correspond
, he urged her.
I am your friend too, as I was Nicolaas's.

He asked about her children and added that he expected to be in Netherlands at the end of September and would like to call on her if it was convenient.

I want to see her now.
The thought tormented him, and if she had written to say he might visit whenever he liked he would have booked a passage immediately.

During his discussion with Rosamund he had told her that as he was not sleeping well due to his overload of work, he would move into the guest room so as not to disturb her. He thought he detected a note of relief as she replied, ‘Of course, Frederik. I quite understand, and you must be careful not to become overtired. I have noticed that you've been rather on edge since our return from Scarborough.'

And there was every reason for him to be so, he thought irritably, since he had seen at close quarters how a happily married couple might behave. Perhaps the Sandersons were unusual in their open fondness for each other, but it was what he wanted for himself; friendship and affection was surely not too much to expect in a marriage, especially within the bedroom.

The month for him passed slowly, unlike for Margriet, who found the weekends irksome and couldn't wait for Mondays. She gobbled up her lessons and made great advances in reading, writing and arithmetic, but especially in storytelling. Miss Barker asked her one day to read out something she had written on the history of Hull.

‘It's quite short,' Margriet explained as she stood up in front of the small class. ‘If there was time I could make it longer?'

She looked hopefully at Miss Barker, and was disappointed when the teacher said, ‘Perhaps you will write another episode for another time. For the moment just read what you have written, as the others too have stories to tell.'