Eline Vere

XXIX

Fine, the sour-faced maid-of-all-work Madame Verstraeten had engaged for Lili, was busy in the dining room at Atjehstraat, spreading a brand-new cloth on the round dining table, Emilie was pattering about the salon lighting the lamps, and Marie hummed as she arranged flowers in various vases. The French doors stood open in the pearl-grey dusk.

‘Let there be light!’ Emilie exclaimed happily, turning up all three gas jets of the chandelier to full blaze. ‘They can start counting pennies tomorrow,’ she muttered softly so that Fine would not hear.

‘The china cupboard is locked, Ma’am!’ Fine burst out accusingly.

‘So it is, Fine. Here, take the key. What do you need from the cupboard?’

‘The tableware, Ma’am; the settings. I need plates and dishes and the soup tureen. And I don’t see any cutlery, either. But I must go and see to my chops, or they’ll burn to a crisp.’

‘Very well, Fine. Off you go then, you can leave the table to us.’

Fine returned to the kitchen and Emilie opened the china cupboard.

‘Marie, do stop fussing with those flowers and lend me a hand with this instead! We’ll never finish on time otherwise.’

The two women bustled about in playful humour, laying the table for two. Emilie tucked the napkins into the wine glasses as a finishing touch.

‘Good heavens no! That won’t do at all! That’s what they do in restaurants!’ remonstrated Marie as she made to remove the napkins.

‘Don’t you dare!’ cried Emilie, clasping her wrists. ‘Don’t you dare touch my creation!’

Several mock skirmishes later, when Emilie had uncorked the wine, Marie declared that it would be a shame not to use the new cut-glass decanters.

‘Excellent idea!’ responded Emilie. ‘They’re upstairs, in Georges’ room. Quick, go and fetch them.’

Marie returned bearing a pair of elegant crystal carafes with silver-chained labels, into which the wine was decanted.

‘See how stylish they look!’ said Marie admiringly. ‘And now for the flowers — let’s have two vases on the table, one for the master and one for the mistress.’

‘A single vase of flowers is quite enough.’

‘No, no! Two looks much nicer!’

When after much good-natured argument they were finally satisfied with their elaborate table setting, Emilie announced that she was going upstairs. Marie would join her later; first she wanted to put the finishing touches to her flower arrangements elsewhere in the house.

Upstairs Emilie found all the doors wide open and the gas lamps blazing in every room. The bedroom, with the neatly made-up bed and assortment of toiletries ranged on the washstand and dressing table, was coming alive already, and tomorrow, tomorrow the whole place would be alive with young love! She dithered about the rooms for a final inspection, adjusting the position of a chair here, straightening a lace mat there. Everything was in perfect order, from the bedroom to the small study, where the antique bookcase was now neatly filled with leather-bound tomes, and the boudoir, where the chairs stood around the low table as if they had been vacated just two minutes previously. Marie came running up the stairs and burst into the room, crying: ‘Emilie, it’s nearly ten! We must be off!’

‘Our cab hasn’t arrived yet.’

‘For what time did you order it?’

‘For ten o’clock. Don’t fret, they won’t be here until ten-past — I know, because I checked the railway timetable. Oh, how I wish I could be a fly on the wall when they arrive!’

‘Shall we go and hide?’

‘No, of course not!’

‘Are you afraid you’ll see something you shouldn’t?’

Their eyes met and they exchanged complicit smiles at the thought of Georges and Lili going into raptures upon entering their fairy-tale abode.

‘Wait! I have an idea!’ Emilie cried out. ‘Are there any flowers left?’

‘Yes, a few with short stems, which I couldn’t fit into my vases. Why do you ask?’

‘We could use them to make a sort of ring around the night light. Oh, that would look so sweet! Quick, run and get them, will you?’ By the time Marie returned with the leftover flowers Emilie had lit the night light, and they set about arranging and rearranging the blooms with mounting agitation, finding it difficult to coax them into a shape to both their satisfaction.

‘We must hurry,’ admonished Emilie. ‘It’s nearly ten o’clock.’

A cab drew up outside and a moment later the bell rang.

‘That must be our cab! Come along now, Marie, hurry up! Let’s turn off the main light, then the night light will look all the more enchanting! Leave the flowers as they are! Do hurry!’

Emilie turned off the gas light and forcibly drew Marie to the landing. Then, to their alarm, they heard the rattle of wheels on the cobbles outside as a second vehicle drew up, followed by a shouted exchange by the drivers.

‘Oh dear! Just as I feared — we’re too late!’ wailed Emilie.

The doorbell rang, and they stared at each other in horror.

‘They’ll have seen our cab!’ cried Marie. ‘What are we to do?’

‘Tell Fine to wait before answering the door! No, it’s too late for that!’

‘Then we’ll have to hide,’ said Marie.

‘No, no, Marie, that’s absurd.’

‘Well, then I shall go and hide even if you won’t!’ cried Marie, running into Lili’s boudoir. Emilie couldn’t think what to do, so she ran after her. They closed the door behind them, turned off the gas and hid behind the curtains. There they cowered, stifling their giggles, like a pair of mischievous schoolgirls, while Emilie did her best not to cause a bulge in the curtain. They heard Fine open the front door. They heard the coachman bringing in the suitcases. And they heard Georges and Lili’s voices.

‘Hello, Fine! There’s a cab waiting outside — do you know who it is for?’

They could not make out Fine’s reply, for she spoke in a low, genteel tone.

‘Emilie! Marie!’ called Georges and Lili from downstairs.

‘Shh! Not a word!’ hissed Emilie.

‘How like Fine to have given us away,’ Marie whispered plaintively. Their names were called again, and then, straining their ears, they heard Lili’s happy voice as she drifted from the salon to the dining room.

‘Oh! Georges, come over here! Look what a pretty table setting! And all those lovely flowers!’

After a moment’s pause, during which Georges and Lili were presumably in raptures, they heard their names being called yet again.

Emilie and Marie held their breath.

‘Wait! I know, let’s go and look for them!’ they heard Georges cry, followed by the sound of him and his young bride running up the stairs.

‘Oh, Marie! They’re coming!’ whispered Emilie.

Georges and Lili burst into the bedroom, and after that nothing was heard but muffled whisperings, a soft laugh, the sound of a kiss. Marie could contain herself no longer and let out a giggle.

‘I heard someone laugh!’ exclaimed Lili, ‘They must be hiding somewhere. Where are you, Marie and Emilie, you can come out now!’

But Emilie and Marie kept as quiet as mice, listening to Georges and Lili’s footsteps as they searched the study and the small dressing room before entering the boudoir. Georges lit the gas, and promptly saw the bulge behind the curtains.

‘Look! Lili, look over there!’

‘We’ve found them!’ rejoiced Lili. ‘Oh, what madcaps they are!’

The curtains were thrust aside to reveal Emilie and Marie, red-faced and brimming with laughter. Boisterous greetings were exchanged, and everyone spoke at once.