Part 38 (1/2)
”Perhaps it's in a neighboring room.”
Aletta shook her head. ”Nothing would make him go outside that sanctuary he has created for himself. Some of his friends-those with whom he used to hunt and race and sail-come regularly in twos and threes, hoping to see him. They climb onto the gates, enraging Josephus and the dogs, while they cup their hands around their mouths and shout to Constantijn to stop being a hermit and so forth. He doesn't hear them, because his apartment is on the park side of the house, and it wouldn't make any difference if he did. He gets irrational fears. One is that the most staunch and determined of his friends will one day get together and make a concentrated sortie on the house to get through to him.”
”Is this likely?”
”No. They would have done it already if that had been their motive. I think they come only to cheer him and to show that as far as they are concerned nothing has changed, hoping that eventually he will overcome his needless shame of his handicap.”
”I like their att.i.tude.”
”So do I, although he is always ill at ease when he knows they've been at the gates. He sits with a spygla.s.s to his eye like a seaman, scanning the park from the window. One night he roused the whole household with his shouting and ringing of his bell. When we arrived in his room he said his friends were coming with lanterns through the distant trees, but of course there was nothing to see. He's done that twice since. Now I've told Sara to stay in her bed and only Josephus and I go to him.”
”Is it when he has been drinking?”
”It wasn't the first time, but probably on the second and third occasions.”
They had reached the kitchen. Sara had gone shopping in Delft and they could talk on their own. Aletta poured milk into two gla.s.ses and they ate a slice each of a newly baked open tart of dried apricots, raisins and apples with a topping of carameled almonds. Francesca handed over the gold bracelet from Aunt Janetje, and Aletta, delighted with it, tried it on at once.
”It's beautiful!” She held out her arm to admire it on her wrist. ”Is yours the same?”
”No.” Francesca displayed hers. ”All three had different designs.”
Aletta sighed with pleasure. ”Aunt Janetje has always sent us lovely gifts.” Carefully she removed the bracelet from her wrist and put it away in its little casket. ”I can't wear it when I'm working.”
”Is there ever a time in this house when you're not working?”
Aletta gave a little laugh. ”Only when I'm sleeping. Now tell me all about home.”
Francesca was uncertain whether or not to tell Aletta the whole wretched story when she had so many difficulties of her own to contend with, but her sister must know sooner or later and this was a time when they could be sure of being alone. She began with the good news that there was no deterioration in Hendrick's hands and a description of Griet's wedding, following with an account of the disastrous dinner party in Ludolf's house, the revelation of the hold that evil man held over their father, the marriage contract Hendrick had been forced to sign and finally her reasons for not attending the betrothal party.
Aletta's shock and distress were severe. She exclaimed over such misfortune happening to both her father and her sister. ”But-Pieter,” she said finally, ”you-and-Pieter. Can't he do something?”
”I spent five wonderful days with him at Haarlem Huis,” Francesca told her, ”and he has plans as to how this terrible situation can be averted.” She did not mention Italy. Aletta was so badly shaken it would have been cruel to add to her anxiety and grief by any suggestion they might be separated from each other for many years.
When Constantijn's bell rang, Aletta rose automatically from where she was sitting. ”I'll be back in a second,” she promised as she went from the kitchen.
On her way to Constantijn's room she could hear him playing the lute. Recently they had begun impromptu concerts together, she playing the clavichord in the anteroom and Constantijn the viol or the lute, both of which he played quite well. He also had a good singing voice, but so far he had only sung in her hearing when drunk.
”Sit down and listen,” he said cheerfully as soon as she entered the room. ”I've composed a new melody and I've jotted it down on paper. You can copy it out neatly later.”
”My sister is here and I can't leave her, but if I left both doors of the apartment open she could listen from the stairs while I am here.” She had said it all in one breath to stop any interruption.
He frowned, not pleased. ”How long is she staying?”
”About another two hours.”
There was a pause before he spoke again. ”She must remain at the bottom of the flight.”
”I'll tell her.”
In the reception hall Francesca stood by the newel post, hoping the music was proving a distraction to her sister, as the notes of the melody floated pleasingly down to her. When the last note was played she heard Aletta pick up the melody again on the clavichord and then the lute struck up once more in accompaniment through to the end.
Upstairs Aletta rose from her seat at the clavichord and applauded Constantijn's composition with enthusiasm. ”Why not write some lyrics too?” she suggested eagerly. ”The melody is ideal for a love song.”
”Is it?” he said bitterly. Before she could stop him he tore up the sheet of music he had written and crumpled the pieces into a ball, which he tossed fiercely out of the window.
”I'm going downstairs to my sister,” she said quietly.
Francesca saw at once by her face that something had happened. ”Was I the cause?” she asked anxiously.
Aletta shook her head. ”No. There are a thousand ways to hurt him and I seem to blunder in on most of them. He threw his composition into the garden and I'm going outside to find it.”
”I'll come with you.”
”No, wait here. I can judge whereabouts to look.”
She found the pieces scattered in a rose bed and knelt on the earth until she had retrieved every one. She returned to the kitchen and talked quietly with Francesca until Weintje returned. Later, in her own room before going to bed, she put the sc.r.a.ps together painstakingly and copied out the music onto a fresh sheet of paper. When the ink was dry she put it away in a drawer with the bracelet from Aunt Janetje and a few other things she treasured.
In spite of the shock and distress she had suffered so recently, sleep came soon, her last conscious thoughts being that Pieter van Doorne with his love and determination would surely save her sister from the life of misery with which she was threatened.
Chapter 20.
WHEN THE DAY OF HEER AND VROUW DE VEERE'S VISIT ARRIVED, Constantijn insisted that Aletta stay in the room after admitting them. He had been morose ever since he had thrown his music out of the window, unpredictable in his whims and demands.
”But they will want to talk to you privately,” she protested.
”I want you to be present. Is that understood?”
She had hoped to give his parents a little tactful advice when they arrived, but she had no chance. His mother rushed into the house and up to his apartment. There she promptly burst into tears at the sight of him, crying out that he was her poor helpless boy. As if that were not enough, her husband, obviously primed by her, tried to persuade him to come and live at their country house where he could receive the full care that he deserved.
”We've had a waist-high, pulpit-shaped screen made,” his mother told him proudly, ”and then you can be present at all social functions at our house without the least embarra.s.sment about-anything.”
”About the loss of my legs, Mother?” Constantijn said woodenly. ”Is that what you mean?”
”Well, yes. Don't you think that's a splendid idea?”
Aletta despaired privately at such a demoralizing item being made and contrasted it in her own mind with the gift she had commissioned Josephus to make for him. She watched Constantijn becoming whiter and more wild-eyed as the visit dragged on. His face became desperate when his father said that two of the coach servants would be coming upstairs at any minute to carry him down to the waiting equipage.
”I've chosen where I want to live and there's an end to it!” Constantijn was afraid he was to be removed by well-intentioned force. Then he saw that Aletta had moved in front of the door as if to show she would never allow it and he became calmer. His parents left the apartment soon afterward, disappointed and subdued. Aletta, following to show them out, was deeply saddened that the two people closest to Constantijn should have the least understanding of his mental torment. As they were about to go from the house she made a suggestion.
”There is something you can do for your son.”
”What is that?” Vrouw de Veere implored, her eyes wet, for she had shed tears again when her son had kissed her farewell.
”We'll do anything,” her husband endorsed.
”Last week I asked Josephus if he would make in his workshop two wooden stump legs with straps for your son and he was pleased to take on the task. He will attach two wooden feet and I have given him a pair of your son's shoes so that the feet can be of the right size and shape to be covered by his hose and footwear. I'm sewing the soft padding for the thigh cups, but perhaps you would like to provide a pair of crutches?”