He stepped on the brake.
A large sign made of rough planks stood in the verge. The wood had been painted black, with large white letters saying STOP.
Five foreign-looking soldiers stood guard beside it. Their helmets had mesh covering with dried twigs sticking out. They wore baggy fatigues with straps and belts, from which dangled all manner of metal equipment. Each of them held an automatic weapon under his arm.
One of them stepped out into the road. He seemed to recognise the car as the doctor’s, and motioned it on with a raised thumb. Two others noticed Osewoudt in the passenger seat, put their fingers between their lips and whistled. The car set off again.
There were shouts of ‘Hey! Hey! Hey!’ as they passed the checkpoint.
‘Our liberators seem very glad to see you!’ said Dr Sikkens, accelerating. ‘Is anything wrong? Not feeling carsick are you?’
Osewoudt sat, goggle-eyed and staring, with his legs spread and a hand clutching each knee.
‘You’re looking quite green,’ said the doctor. ‘Want me to stop?’
‘No, no, please drive on. There’s nothing wrong with me.’
‘It’s sure to be lack of sleep. You should have taken my advice and stayed at the house today. Crossing the Hollands Diep in a boat last night, on top of all the other trouble you’ve had — you must be exhausted. It won’t do, you know. Why are you in such a hurry to get to Breda?’
‘I have an important message to deliver.’
Osewoudt now settled back in his seat, maintaining a relaxed posture.
‘There’s no need to slow down, I’m not feeling sick. Don’t mind me, Doctor.’
‘I’m not sure …’
The doctor angled his head so that he could shift his gaze from the road to Osewoudt at will.
‘Notice anything in particular?’
‘Just what I said before, Sister. I must advise you to rest as soon as possible. Can’t you come back and stay with us after you’ve delivered your message?’
‘That’s not what I meant, Doctor. Don’t say you didn’t notice! Well, I might as well tell you. I am not a nurse. I am not a girl. I’m a man.’
‘Ah. Yes. Well. Hm.’
The doctor faced forward again and concentrated on driving.
‘Don’t you believe me?’
‘Of course, Sister. I believe you! Of course. I quite understand what you mean. A village doctor’s work covers a multitude of fields, including psychiatry. Look here, it seems to me you’re at the end of your tether. You really need to take a rest or you’ll have a breakdown. People with your kind of perseverance, your bravery, are under great stress — a sudden breakdown is not unusual! You are an exceptionally energetic and active sort of person, and I’d be prepared to bet that you always have been. It is quite possible that there is a touch of maleness in your psychological make-up. I wouldn’t be surprised if you preferred playing with boys when you were little, if you were a tomboy, got into fights. Maybe you even wished you were a boy now and then. In times like these, during a war, when the whole world is upside down, that kind of impossible childhood wish can rise to the surface in people who are otherwise completely mature. But it will pass once you have taken some rest.’
‘That has nothing to do with it. The only thing wrong with me is that I don’t have a beard.’
‘What’s that? Well, that is an aspect I would have to look into. I think the best thing for you would be to consult a specialist at the earliest opportunity.’
A long column of armoured vehicles towing heavy guns came towards them. A motorcyclist wearing a helmet rode in front; he waved them to the side of the road. The doctor steered the car to the verge and stopped. Amid the din of roaring engines the vehicles rolled past one by one, olive green, dented here and there, splashed with brightly coloured, incomprehensible signs. Heads in helmets protruded from the tops of some of the trucks; long, thin antennae swayed to and fro in the air. These were the Allies! Osewoudt saw them clearly now for the first time, but he hid his face in his hands and cowered in his seat to avoid the soldiers’ notice.
‘Doctor,’ he said, when they set off again, ‘you’ve got it all wrong. I only put this nurse’s uniform on the day before yesterday. I’m going to Breda to volunteer for military service.’
The doctor made no reply. Was he concentrating on the busy junction on the outskirts of Breda, which they were now approaching?
‘Doctor,’ said Osewoudt as they drove into the town, ‘I had a girlfriend in Amsterdam. She had a child by me. Do you believe me now?’
‘Is it all right if I wait for you here?’ said Dr Sikkens. ‘Then you can come back with me straightaway. I’ll see what I can do for you. My car is hardly the place for conducting a surgery. But you can stay with us as long as you like. I wish you’d take my advice! My wife and I would like nothing better! We have the greatest respect for people like you.’
‘But Doctor!’ Osewoudt implored, almost choking, ‘I have a man’s wristwatch!’ He showed it.
‘Most nurses have them, because the dial’s bigger.’ The doctor laughed. ‘Just tell me where you want to go. I’ll wait for you in the car and then we’ll drive back together!’
‘I’ll get out here,’ said Osewoudt, and opened the door while the car was still running.
‘Where — here?’
‘Here! Here!’ he shrieked, putting his leg out of the door. By the time the car came to a stop Osewoudt was already dashing across the thoroughfare, zigzagging between two bicycles. He ducked into the first side street, his veil flapping behind him, and ran so fast he had to hold on to his cap. He could feel it sliding down, the bow under his chin had come undone. Slowing his pace, he retied it.
He came to a large square bordered by low houses. He ran across it and turned into another street, where there were no gardens. At the end of this street he saw a crowd of people. He made his way towards them, boldly.
The street led to a main road. There were a lot of people about, massed on either side of the carriageway, holding small flags, orange ones and red-white-and-blue ones. The boys wore orange paper hats and the girls had orange ribbons in their hair. Every house had put out a flag.
‘Excuse me madam, can you tell me what’s going on?’
‘Haven’t you heard, Sister? The queen will be coming past in a few minutes.’
‘Oh, how wonderful! I just arrived here from occupied territory, you see. I escaped. I feel as if I’m dreaming! I can’t believe my eyes! All these happy faces, all the bunting! It’s five years since I saw a Dutch flag! This is my country, my very own country! I feel as if I’ve been away for years, and have finally come home to my own people!’
He was shaking all over. He clung to the woman’s arm as though seeking support from the branch of a tree.
‘Will it be long now? I’d so much love to see the queen, but I have to deliver a message. It’s very urgent.’
‘She may be here in ten minutes, five minutes, who knows …’
‘I need to go to the headquarters of the Netherlands Armed Forces. Is it far from here?’
‘Oh, Sister! You’re right on top of it, so to speak! See those barracks over the road? That’s their headquarters. If that’s where you have to deliver your message you’ll be better off than us. The queen’s going to stop there to inspect the guard of honour. If you’re quick you’ll get a grandstand view! Come along children, make way! Let the nurse through!’