The Dutch Uncle Read online

  THE DUTCH UNCLE

  Margery Hilton

  Tessa was looking forward to a holiday in Italy with her mother, but everything seemed to come crashing down about her ears when she learned that the plans were off, and instead she was to stay for six months with her father’s old friend Nicholas Maythorne.

  Still, after all, she had always been quite fond of Nicholas...

  CHAPTER I

  Tessa opened the window and leaned out, resting her arms on the rough, sun-warmed stone. Her blue eyes held a pensive light as they gazed over the familiar, oft-explored scene. This was the day she had wished for so many times during the past year; now it had actually come she felt a strange sadness and an unexpected reluctance take possession of her.

  From the room behind came the sounds of muffled exclamations and thuds as Jane tried to close the lid of an over-crammed suitcase.

  ‘Tess, lend a hand. If we both sit on the beastly thing it might shut.’

  Tessa turned from the window and added her slender weight to that of her exasperated friend, giggling a little as the case bulged and creaked in protest. ‘Success!’ Jane locked it and stood up briskly. ‘Isn’t it about time you got a move on?’

  ‘I suppose so.’ Tessa sighed. ‘It’s the last time, Jane. Don’t you feel like laughing and crying at the same time?’

  ‘No, you silly nit. I’ve had enough of Friars’ Dene and its monstrosity of a uniform to last me a lifetime.’ Jane flicked at her school tie with a disrespectful gesture. ‘Look at us! Nearly eighteen—all those lovely A levels —but what do we know about living? And men?’ She slung her case outside the door and added, ‘Anyway, you’ll be making a start next week—Italy can be very educating, I believe. Got your bikini aired?’

  A tap on the door silenced their giggles.

  ‘It’s for you.’ Jane held out a letter, and Tessa felt an inward qualm when she saw the familiar violet ink. Why had her mother written today? The last day of term. The cold feeling began to grow as she slit the envelope.

  Many envied her being the daughter of a famous and glamorous star of stage and TV, but only Tessa knew the drawbacks of such a relationship. The doubtful pleasure of basking in the glow of Angela Charmaine s reflected glory held little compensation for the lack of a settled home life, the oft-ruined plans, and the many disappointments. Before she even began reading her mother’s scrawled flourishes she knew that the Italian holiday was fast retreating into the limbo of ‘later on, perhaps.’

  ‘Well?’ Jane demanded anxiously. ‘What’s the latest catastrophe?’

  Tessa shrugged and handed over the letter. ‘Angie can’t meet me today. The holiday’s cancelled. And she’s going to the States next week.’

  ‘Whew!’ Jane’s eyes widened. ‘Your mum does get around. I thought Veil of Stars finished its London run last week, and that Angie had a new TV series lined up.’

  ‘She did—something must have happened. I’ll probably get the story tonight. She’s always wanted to play Broadway,’ Tessa added thoughtfully. ‘I’m glad it’s come her way at last.’

  ‘For six months,’ Jane commented, looking down at the letter. ‘What will you do while she’s away?’

  For a moment Tessa looked blank, then she shrugged again. ‘Goodness knows. Probably stay in the flat and go to art school as planned.’ She smiled. ‘So much for that bikini. Whatever happens I won’t be in Italy next week.’

  ‘Wait a moment.’ Jane had flipped over the letter. ‘There’s a PS. on the back.’

  Something in her friend’s expression made Tessa grab the letter with an unceremonious disregard for manners. When she read Angie’s postscript she knew the reason for Jane’s mischievous grin. Her colour deepened, and for a moment she looked incredulous. Then her small, heart-shaped face set in mutinous lines.

  ‘It’s ridiculous!’ she cried indignantly. ‘I can’t possibly go to Meads for six months—not after—Why didn’t she ask me first? And cancelling my enrolment at art school! Oh, Jane!’ She shook her head and threw down the letter. What am I going to do?’

  ‘Go,’ said Jane, still wearing a maddening grin. ‘Why not? You know you’ve always doted on Nicholas. Remember when you used to keep his photograph in your history book and it fell out on Miss Audley’s lap one day, and she said—’

  ‘That was years ago—I was only a stupid kid. Before he met Christine and everything—’ Tessa broke off unhappily. ‘How can Angie suggest that I go to Meads and expect Nicholas to look after me? As though I were eight instead of—it’s impossible.’

  ‘Not suggested—arranged,’ Jane corrected somewhat slyly.

  ‘But I haven’t seen Nicholas for ages. He’ll have forgotten me. It’s over two years since the—’

  ‘The day you disgraced yourself?’ Jane watched the pink in Tessa’s face. ‘Don’t tell me you’re still taking that to heart. By the way, did he ever marry the gorgeous Christine?’

  ‘No, I think they fell out or something and she went to Paris. She was a cat, anyway,’ said Tessa childishly.

  ‘Hm.’ Jane glanced at her watch. ‘It’s a, pity, but I’ll have to leave you with your ghastly problem. Personally, I can’t think what you’re moaning about. You’re a big girl now. And if glamour puss is out of the way ... It’s a golden opportunity.’ Jane’s pause was expressive. She went on, ‘I only met your—what did you use to call him—?’

  ‘My Dutch uncle.’ Tessa’s smile was reminiscent. ‘He used to solve all my problems.’

  ‘Well, as I said, I only met him once, but I thought he was a dreamboat.’ Jane rolled expressive eyes. ‘And then some!’

  ‘He was—until he met Christine.’ Rather abruptly, Tessa bent to pick up one of Jane’s cases. ‘Come on, you’re late.’

  A few minutes later Jane’s taxi drew up at the gates.

  ‘The parting of the ways.’ Jane struck a dramatic attitude and surveyed the ancient bulk of Friars’ Dene School. ‘Thank God,’ she muttered, to the disapproval of the elderly taxi-driver. ‘Now write to me, Tess, and be good. And don’t forget you’ve got a bolthole in Yorkshire if anything goes wrong. ‘Bye, pet.’ A quick hug and she had gone. The taxi screeched round the bend, leaving Tessa alone by the big gates her waving hand dropping rather forlornly to her side.

  Slowly she returned to her packing, the bare little dormitory room seeming empty without Jane’s exuberant presence. She re-read her mother’s letter, her troubled thoughts drifting back to childhood. As the years passed it became more difficult to remember the happiest times clearly. The tragic year following the accident that had crippled her father overshadowed the earlier recollections, blurring them and leaving clear the painful memories of the long month he lay helpless, when she and Angie had watched, strickenly, while his will to live faded, suddenly flickered, and he had gone.

  It was Nicholas Maythorne who had tried to buoy their hopes and courage during those long dark days. And it was to Nicholas that the child Tessa turned in her wild, abandoned grief. Angie, perforce, had to honour her contract and continue in her current show, so Nicholas took nine-year-old Tessa to Meads and his mother. With youthful resilience she slowly began to recover from her loss, aided by an engaging, gangling spaniel pup, chosen by Nicholas with the knowledge that the care of something so tiny and helpless would do more than anything else to occupy Tessa’s attention.

  She called the pup Nicky, confiding artlessly:

  ‘Because next to you I love him best of all now that Daddy’s gone.’ And Nicholas had rumpled her hair, smiling at the childish compliment. Next year she went to boarding school, leaving Nicky, now an exuberant young dog, at Meads. The pangs of parting from him soon diminished in the excitement of a new and unfamiliar life in a self-contained world of girls.

&nbs
p; It seemed a natural course of events that she should spend the school holidays at Meads. They rarely coincided with Angie’s breaks between shows. Angie would dash from wherever she happened to be playing at the time, spend a fleeting hour or so with Tessa, then depart until the next time. Inevitably Nicholas became the recipient of Tessa’s confidences and the endless tittle-tattle of school life. If he was bored he gave no sign of it, and patiently tendered counsel on the problems she brought to him, which, if they seemed trivial to an adult nevertheless assumed enormous proportions to Tessa. The Christmas of her fifteenth year brought fresh sorrow. Nicky caught a virus and, despite the efforts of the vet, died in Tessa’s arms late on Christmas Eve. She flung herself into Nicholas’s arms in a storm of weeping, and was reproved later by Angie in the privacy of her bedroom.

  The words rang clearly down the years.

  ‘You really must start restraining your emotions, darling. You’re too big now to fling yourself at Nicholas on the slightest provocation.’

  Tessa had stared at her mother, the colour ebbing from her face and leaving pink tear blotches about her eyes.

  ‘I’m sorry about the dog,’ Angie went on more gently. ‘But I’ve been meaning to speak to you about the other matter for some time. It must be extremely embarrassing for Nicholas.’

  And so the following morning when Nicholas gave Tessa the longed-for white and gold musical box she raised her face for his kiss and gravely thanked him. For a moment he looked puzzled, then, no doubt assuming that Nicky’s sad demise was responsible for her lack of enthusiasm, respected her obvious wish to be left alone.

  Spring saw the beginning of the decline in Mrs. Maythorne’s health; and the golden summer brought Christine.

  For Tessa the halcyon years at Meads were over.

  The mental argument with her mother, which Tessa had devoted the entire train journey to rehearsing, was doomed to postponement. Only Bertha awaited her when she reached the flat later that afternoon.

  A tiny thin woman, wispy sandy hair drawn tightly back from uncompromisingly plain features, Bertha had been dresser, maid and general confidante to Angie for as long as Tessa could remember. She greeted Tessa now as though only hours had elapsed since their last meeting.

  ‘Kettle’s on, and your mother’ll be back about six. You got the letter?’

  ‘Only just in time.’

  Bertha sniffed. ‘Saves me explaining, then. Especially as Milady’s managed to be missing just now.’

  ‘You know my mother too well.’ Tessa could not help smiling as the thin, disapproving back hurried to the summons of the whistling kettle. When Bertha returned carrying a tray, Tessa asked firmly: ‘Now when did this American business start? Come on, Bertha, give.’

  ‘Well,’ Bertha hitched herself on a corner of the table and leaned forward confidingly, ‘you knew that Delina Dee was going to star in the Broadway production? She’s in the middle of making a film and marrying her leading man. Then she drops her bombshell. She discovers that she’s going to have a baby! She’ll finish the film—only just—but by September...’ Bertha broke off with a cackle.

  ‘I see. Awkward for Delina.’

  ‘Ay, the stork’s no respecter of stars, more’n anybody else,’ Bertha remarked with grim satisfaction. ‘I’ve known it happen a few times and had many a laugh at their faces. Cool Songs without words.’ She smirked reminiscently. ‘It’s always a mystery—they forget about the time when they let their hair down after a boozy party.’

  Bertha recalled herself and stopped abruptly. ‘Shouldn’t be talking to you like this, and if you knew your place, young lady, you’d shut me up,’ she said furiously.

  ‘Oh, Bertha,’ said Tessa, laughing, ‘I wasn’t born yesterday—even if I do look a bit green round the eyes.’

  ‘No,’ Bertha snapped, ‘but you’ve a lot to learn yet, I can tell you, and I don’t want to be the one to spoil your girlish illusions about romance and men. Men!’ she repeated disgustedly.

  ‘Go on, Bertha,’ Tessa begged, suddenly feeling much happier. ‘Tell me about your love life. Let your hair down for once.’

  But Bertha refused to be drawn. ‘Haven’t time—didn’t you know your mother’s giving a party tonight? On top of all I’ve got to do.’ She gulped down her tea. ‘Hurry up, Tessa. And if you’ve time to gossip you can use your hands at the same time.’

  Tessa was used to Bertha’s outspoken way. She followed her into the kitchenette and put on an apron, asking: ‘How did the last night of the show go?’

  ‘Huh!’ Bertha snorted. ‘Three in the morning before I finished packing in the wardrobe and picked my way out over the empties. What a party! You couldn’t move for booze and flowers.’

  ‘You’ll be going with Angie?’

  There was a silence after Bertha’s nodded affirmative. Tessa arranged savouries in neat patterns and wondered if Bertha knew how and when the Meads plan had originated. It was so long since they had seen or heard anything of Nicholas; not since his mother’s death eighteen months ago. Had Angie deliberately sought him and asked him...?

  ‘Here’s your mother.’

  Tessa looked up sharply and heard the slam of a car door. She ran through the flat. As she reached the hall she could hear the laughing voice mingling with a man’s deeper tones. Was that Nicholas with her? No, the car was driving away. Tessa released a pent-up breath, and in a moment it seemed the hall was filled with the confusion of scattered dress boxes and parcels, Angie’s infectious gaiety, her perfume, and the aura of excitement which invariably surrounded her.

  Tessa could not resist the affection in the sparkling blue eyes, and the arms held out to gather her close.

  ‘Darling! How wonderful to have you home again.’ Angie’s boisterous hug almost swung Tessa off her feet.

  ‘Get home all right? I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to meet you. You do understand?’ The blue eyes were pleading.

  Tessa smiled indulgently. ‘You know that I’m perfectly capable of boarding the right train and getting off it. Come to the point, Angie. It’s the next few months I’m worried about.’

  Angie linked her arm through Tessa’s. ‘Let’s ask Bertha to make some tea. I’m longing for a cup. We can talk later—I’ve had such a day.’ She sank into a chair kicking off her dainty shoes and visibly relaxing.

  Bertha appeared with a tray, which she set down, and tutted disapprovingly as she bent to pick up the discarded shoes.

  ‘Mother—about Nicholas...’ Tessa began. ‘Are you sure—?’

  ‘Later, darling. Bertha, did you ring the florists?’

  ‘They’ve been. I put the flowers in the bath.’

  ‘And did Carvill telephone?’

  ‘Yes. He’s fixed for you to—’

  Tessa sighed, and wandered into her bedroom to begin unpacking. Until the party was over it would be hopeless to try to discuss Angie’s impossible plan. Because it was impossible. She couldn’t possibly descend on Meads and take up residence there for an indefinite period. Tessa had no illusions about the vagaries of theatrical matters. A show could fold after one night, but Veil of Stars could easily repeat its British success and run for anything from six months to several years. Tessa’s face was troubled. How could Angie go blithely on, imposing on Nicholas? For they had imposed on Nicholas, Tessa thought bitterly, ever since her father s death, as though the fact that he had been her father s partner and had venerated the older man meant that he should automatically shoulder the responsibilities that Angie was only too eager to thrust upon him. Herself, Tessa thought with unvarnished candour. And surely the fact that he had eased out, of their lives during the past two years proved that he considered the time had come to sever old ties at last. Somehow, Tessa resolved, she must talk Angie out of it.

  Meanwhile, there was this party to get through...

  CHAPTER II

  ‘Darling, are there any more savouries?’

  It was almost eleven. In a brief lull between helping Bertha and handing round refreshment
s Tessa paused to wonder at the seemingly never-ending source of Angie’s vitality. Most of the guests were theatrical notabilities, and Angie scintillated as a bright star among them.

  ‘Tessa!’

  ‘Coming.’ She awoke from her reverie and grabbed the tray.

  ‘Leave those for a moment.’ Angie appeared in the doorway. ‘There’s someone I want you to meet. Dennis Gerard—he lives near Meads. Isn’t it lucky that Trudy brought him along tonight? He’ll be able to introduce you to the young set down there.’

  She led Tessa towards a tall young man with smooth fair hair and a fresh, lightly tanned skin. His light blue eyes gazed languidly at Tessa while Angie made brief introductions. Then he smiled, showing even white teeth, and the change it wrought in him was surprising, transforming bland, rather expressionless features into a face of liveliness and charm.

  Perhaps he’s bored with the party, thought Tessa, sitting down in the chair he pulled forward for her.

  ‘I hear we’re going to be neighbours.’ He glanced at her rather curiously, and she received a fleeting impression that she was not exactly the person he had imagined himself meeting. He went on, ‘I didn’t know you were in Nick’s circle—where’ve you been hiding?’

  Tessa sighed. The pointless party chit-chat was about to commence. ‘Friars’ Dene,’ she said briefly.

  ‘Never heard of it, my sweet.’

  ‘Boarding school—I only left today.’

  ‘School?’ he echoed. ‘How old are you?’

  ‘Nearly eighteen.’ She was beginning to resent his questions and dislike him. ‘Excuse me, I must help Bertha.’

  ‘Please don’t go.’ He put a detaining hand on her wrist. ‘Sorry to be nosy.’ His smile flashed. ‘I’m not with it. Asking a young lady her age!’

  ‘We did worse things than that at school,’ Tessa said without thinking.

  ‘I bet you did.’ He looked at her without speaking for a moment, a hint of puzzlement in his expression. He said suddenly, ‘I’m positive I’ve met you somewhere. But where?’