‘Well my dear, at least you have made amends now!’ said Madame van Raat when Freddie took her leave. ‘But you won’t make me send out a summons again, will you? I am all alone here, and I do so like to see a young face from time to time.’
Frédérique kissed her goodbye, promising to call again soon.
In the days that followed Madame van Raat went about her business with a faintly knowing smile on her lips and a calculating look in her eye. Through the mist of her habitually passive disposition she had caught a glimpse of a new goal to her existence. That goal was not going to be easy to attain, nor was it by any means near. She knew she had been too optimistic in trusting Dr Reijer’s judgment when he maintained that she had the ability to contribute to Eline’s recovery, and was afraid she might risk an even greater disillusionment now that the happiness of her own child was at stake. But being a pious soul, she prayed to God for guidance.
The next time Paul spent a few days in The Hague his mother did not breathe a word to him about Frédérique, nor about the conversation she had had with her. When she received a second visit from Frédérique she mentioned how much she enjoyed having someone read to her. Eline used to read to her sometimes in the past, but had grown tired very quickly. Lately Marie had been so kind as to do her this favour on several occasions. Why did not Frédérique join them one evening? Frédérique promised to do so, with some misgivings, because the more amicable Madame became, the more awkward she felt, for the old lady never gave any intimation that Paul had told her of his proposal, and if she had known, she would surely not have been quite so effusive in her manner towards her. But Frédérique allowed herself to be persuaded, and became a regular visitor at Laan van Meerdervoort. She never met Paul there, as she did not visit when she knew him to be in town; nor did Madame, who kept her deepening friendship with Frédérique secret from her son, ask to see her at those times.
One blustery evening, when Madame van Raat was expecting Marie and Frédérique, the latter came alone, as Marie was feeling indisposed. Frédérique offered to take Marie’s place as reader, and the women settled themselves in the spacious salon, where the red-shaded gas lamps spread a rosy glow and the kettle sang for tea. On a low table lay Volume II of Tolstoy’s War and Peace.
This time, however, the book was to remain unopened, as Madame was more in the mood for conversation. She talked of nothing but Pauclass="underline" how serious he had become, and how he had always been a good boy at heart. He had sown his wild oats, but had now developed into a fine, sensible young man. It could have been so different — after all, for a young man to have a fortune was not always a good thing. Oh, she was very pleased with how he had turned out; and Freddie had always liked him too, had she not?
‘Well, you always liked him, didn’t you?’ Madame van Raat repeated with feeling, after Freddie had stammered an unintelligible reply.
‘Oh yes, indeed!’ Freddie managed to say.
‘Talking of Paul,’ Madame pursued in a confidential tone, ‘there is something that I have been wanting to ask you, Freddie. You don’t mind, do you?’
She had laid her hand on the girl’s arm, and could feel it trembling. Frédérique had a sense of being trapped: the old lady had spun a web of sympathy and familiarity around her, from which she could not disentangle herself.
‘Of course not! Ask what you wish,’ she stammered, dreading the question.
‘I wanted to ask you whether, by any chance, there has been any unpleasantness between you and Paul. What made me wonder was that he seems to act rather strangely every time someone happens to mention your name. There’s something troubling him, I can tell. And because I know he can be quite rude at times, I thought he might have offended you in some way. I do hope that is not the case. Is it?’
‘Oh no, not at all, I assure you.’
‘Go on, dear, you can confide in me, you know. Paul is not always on his best behaviour, in fact I’m afraid he is a bit of a prankster, and when I see the way he teases Francoise van Oudendijk and the Eekhof girls I can’t help being amazed that they don’t seem to mind at all. Or rather, I used to see him acting flirtatiously, but he has become much more sensible lately. So you see, I can well imagine that you were annoyed with him for some reason or another, and he with you in return. Now if you would only tell me what that reason was. .’
‘But dear lady, I assure you, nothing happened!’ she cried, struggling against her tears. ‘There was nothing, nothing at all!’
Paul’s mother gave her an incredulous stare.
‘My dear, what a fibber you are! Fie on you! Can’t you see that if you do not tell me the truth I shall only be worried, allowing all manner of things to enter my head — disagreeable ones, too! But my dear, you are not crying, are you?’
The evening had been torture for Frédérique from the moment she arrived, owing to Madame van Raat’s constant allusions to the strained relation between Paul and herself, and she could contain herself no longer.
‘Why won’t you believe me?’ she broke out, with an accusatory sob.
‘Because if nothing happened,’ said Madame van Raat, putting her arms about Frédérique, ‘there is no reason for you to be so upset, is there? Forgive me if I have caused you pain, but what did you expect me to think, Freddie? What am I to think of your being so upset?’
‘Nothing! Don’t think anything! There is nothing the matter!’ Freddie wailed.
Madame van Raat drew her closer. ‘Now listen, Freddie, listen to me! Do you love Paul?’ she murmured.
Racked with sobs, Freddie tried to extricate herself, but the old lady only tightened her embrace.
‘Don’t go, Freddie, just stay close to me a moment and answer my question: do you love Paul? Do you love him very, very much?’
‘Why are you asking me that? Why do you want me to tell you?’
‘Because I believe that he loves you.’
‘No, no, he doesn’t care about me, he doesn’t love me, not any more.’
‘But he did once, and he may do so again! Oh, do tell me the truth, my dear — tell me what happened between you. Well, if you won’t tell me, shall I guess? Paul made advances to you, he trifled with your affection, and then neglected you. Is that what happened?’
‘No, no! Nothing like that, honestly! It was all my fault!’ Frédérique cried out. ‘How could you think such as thing of your son!’
‘Was it really your fault? Well then, did he ask you to marry him? And did you say no? I am only guessing, because of course I don’t know anything. But you shouldn’t tell fibs, my dear, just tell me the truth.’
Frédérique felt too worn out by this persistence to offer any more opposition, and she admitted defeat with a despairing nod, after which she hid her blazing face in Madame van Raat’s shoulder.
‘Why did you reject him?’
‘I think it was my pride. . it got the better of me.’
‘Did you not think my boy good enough?’
‘No, no, it wasn’t pride, really; it was more like jealousy, I think. He was so charming to all the other girls. . Oh, I’m not even sure why I turned him down.’
‘And do you regret it, my child?’
Frédérique recoiled in dismay.
‘But you mustn’t mention a word of this to him!’ she cried. ‘Not a word! Oh, please, promise me that you won’t say anything! You say you think he might yet love me, but I know for certain that it cannot be the case. And I would die of shame if he had any idea that I. . Oh, will you promise me that you won’t say anything?’