Philomena's Miracle - 1978

Philomena Parsons is feeling fine. Or maybe she's on crack. Even in a hallway with dreary margarine colored walls, brown lacquered woodwork and shiny, cracked lino she's feels as if she's in fairyland. Oh what the heck, the whole world is fairyland! Why? Our little honey-blonde Araminta/Outlier has just been placed on the State Register! She may now wear the coveted Silver Buckle. That amazing fact has brought a sparkle to her lovely green eyes (with preposterously long lashes). As she wheels Commander Frost, RN retired to the elevator she sees a handsome man leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets, eyes closed......no, it's not a little trash compacting robot...it's Walle (not WALL-E - which is totally how I now pronounce his name, darn it). He offers to help wheel Commander Frost, RN retired, onto the lift, which prompts Commander Frost, RN retired, to state; "She puts me in mind of my dear Lucy...not pretty of course...[she'll] make a good wife." As Philly (yes, Philly, get used to it) watches the lift doors close on the mysterious, good looking, tall, stranger, who wears good shoes and a tweed suit of masterful cut, Commander Frost, RN retired, says to Philly, "He would make you a splendid husband." Well, of course he would - but he may as well be a prince, because Philly is really Cinderella in disguise. Back home in the lovely Georgian Manor House, with River Frontage, Philly is hiding the reason behind her lack of self-esteem. A stepmother and two evil step sisters! Okay, not really evil, just selfish and lazy and incredibly beautiful. They actually "like" Philly. They like her to run errands, arrange flowers, carry breakfast trays and not clash with their clothes at birthday parties. Meanwhile, back at the hospital, Philly has no one to celebrate the passing of her finals, unless you count, the tall mysterious stranger who is waiting by the porter's lodge. Yep, it's the stranger from the lift - his name is Walle van der Tacx, he's Dutch, and he's a doctor. And he's inviting Philly to go out for a bite to eat. Yes! Philly will be happy to go out with you, Mr. Dutch Doctor with Masterfully Cut Tweeds...and for a bonus? Mr. Dutch Doctor drives a Maserati Khamsin, which Philly just happens to know costs upwards of 18,000 pounds. Philly dresses for her impromptu date in a hurry, and manages to make it down to the porter's lodge with 5 minutes to spare. Walle gives her a "compliment". "There you are - punctual too, a rare thing in a woman." Punctual? Umm...thanks? They manage to cover a lot of ground in their first date. Ages (23/36), marital/dating status (single/no boyfriends), where her family home is (Wareham - turns out Walle has been sailing in that area with an old college chum). Walle also happens to commit his first (of many) compliment faux pas. Walle might be awesome in so many ways, but the guy just doesn't seem able to give Philly a straightforward compliment, to save his life. Compliment Gone Bad (hereafter known as CGB) #1: I've got this beautiful, vivacious adopted cousin, Tritia, who gives life an added zest. She is a bit tiring, she loves to go out dancing until the wee hours, after having dinner. Would you like to go dancing, now that dinner's over? Umm...if you put it like that, no. And now for a melancholy interlude. Commander Frost, RN retired, is doing rather poorly. It is decided to cut the poor man up, even though he won't survive. Walle tells Philly, "...the Commander hasn't a chance, you know, but he wants me to operate." In the operating theatre, Philly finds out that Dr. van der Tacx is the anaesthetist. I'm a little confused. First he says that the Commander wants him to operate, then we find out he's the anaesthetist? Last I checked anaesthetists don't actually do surgery...but I digress. Commander Frost, RN retired, does indeed kick the bucket that evening, while Philly sits by his bedside holding his hand. Tears ensue. Walle takes Philly out for some fish and chips which they proceed to eat, IN THE MASERATI! I'm so impressed. Fast food eaten in a car. How very American of them. Walle consoles Philly, "There, there, my pretty." Which immediately transports me to Oz: "I'll get you, my pretty, and your little dog, too!" Philly knows darn well that she doesn't look good when she howls, and she says so. Walle: "I'm looking, and I like what I see." Hey, girlfriend! When a man says that, you may as well start picking out your trousseau. Alas, Philly is seriously lacking in self-esteem, so no dice. Philly heads down to Wareham for step-sister Chloe's birthday party. She was thoughtful enough to buy an unobtrusive cream silk dress, so as not to class with her pretty step-sisters. Walle turns up in town, introductions...gobsmacked at step-sisters beauty...invited to Chloe's birthday party. Will CinderPhilly make it to the ball? Will CinderPhilly finish arranging flowers, setting tables, running errands, etc...in time to get ready? Barely, but she manages - her final touch being to discreetly spray her person with Vu perfume...which she didn't really care for. And now for CGB #2: "What remarkably pretty girls your sisters are - they quite take one's breath...but they haven't green eyes...I like your dress - it's pretty and it suits you....I did that badly didn't I? Forgive me; to admire your sisters and ignore you - I suppose I felt that I didn't need to tell you...." Didn't need to tell her what? What woman in the history of the universe wants to stand idly by while a man admires other women, and then get a compliment as an afterthought? Half way through the evening Walle finally asks CinderPhilly to dance...after gyrating and shrugging for a few minutes they head out to the verandah...for a nice little tête-à-tête where Walle commits CGB #3: " You're wearing the wrong kind of perfume - much too sophisticated for you...did you choose it?" How can she explain that it was a cast off of Chloe's? She says,"It's French and very expensive." Him: "And on the right person, quite delightful - but not on you." Just as he's going to explain to CinderPhilly what he means by that, in comes beautiful step-sister #2: Miriam(which is the same name as my one and only grand-daughter). Walle arranges to drive Philly back to London, which turns out to be a great opportunity to offer Philly a job in Holland working for him and his two partners. Sounds wonderful. And then we get - CGB #4: [my partner]...likes a sensible girl with no nonsense about her, and no immediate prospect of getting married - all the girls he has interviewed so far have boy-friends or want their evenings free." Wh-What? Has he just told Philly she is destined to be an old maid? Philly may not have much self-esteem, but she does have plenty of spirit, "You want a girl with no other interest but her work and possibly a little reading and knitting in her free time." She sounded tart....I'd sound tart too, if I was her. She does accept the job, and then after her month's notice, drives herself to Ommen, by way of the ferry at Sheerness - in sheeting rain. I'm so impressed with her driving ability - driving on the opposite side, in the sheeting rain and navigating road signs in a foreign language. Not only does Philly have spirit, she's also got guts and some mad driving skills, even if she only drives a Mini. Evidently Walle and his partners do not subscribe to fair labor laws...Philly has appalling work hours - basically 8am to 8:30pm five days a week, with morning surgery on Saturday. Which leaves Sunday as the only truly free day - except for the weekends when she is on call. (It brings to mind some of the worst excesses of the Industrial Revolution.) Philly doesn't see too much of Walle in Ommen - until a measles outbreak occurs, and she is drafted into helping inoculate a mass of recalcitrant youngsters...after hours. It takes a goodish while - longer than Walle imagined..."I had a date with Tritia...she will be very disappointed." How about Philly? Her evening was ruined too. Oh wait, she has no life. Walle apologizes the next day. Oops, your evening was ruined too...I should have at least given you a meal...Philly retorts, "I wasn't doing anything special, you must have realized that..." You must have realized that because that's why you hired me! Philly spends Sunday with Dr. and Mrs. Stanversen and meets the earnest Hubert - who, in spite of a couple of dates, never really gets the chance to become a muddier of waters. His idea of a date includes prosing on about oil wells in...zzzzzzzzzzzzzz...never mind, let's just say he's deadly dull - especially compared with Walle - who is spotted driving around in his Maserati with a gorgeous blonde. After spending most of a night taking care of an emergency haemorrhage case, Walle takes her to his home. I mean castle. So that she can sleep for a few hours before going back to work. No toothbrush? No problem. No nightie? Umm, sorry, my fabulous castle does not run to extra nightwear for surprise visitors. Besides, this is a great opportunity to meet Walle's mum and the luscious Cousin Tritia, the Rude, who's first words are "Who is this plain girl... she is terrible to look at!" Ouch. Yes, she did say it in Dutch, but Philly has been picking up quite of a bit of the local lingo and knows just what the teenage terror said about her. Did I mention that Tritia is only 19? Did I mention that one of the employees at the clinic told Philly that "everyone" expects Walle to marry Tritia? Okay, okay, now we're back on the same page...Philly takes the high road and pretends that she didn't really understand what Tritia the Rude said. Walle then figures out that she really did, so what does he do? Excuses Tritia's rudeness on the grounds that "...she's like a child." I agree. She's badly in need of some serious time-out. Perhaps in another country. Or on another planet. Philly finally gets to spend a weekend at Kasteel Tacx - and a lovely time is had - for the most part. Croquet is played on the lawn, horses are ridden in the meadows, insults are delicately flung by Tritia and when Philly gets home she finally realizes that she's rather foolishly fallen in love with her rich, handsome employer. "Cupid, she decided, was a wash-out...or perhaps he had run out of arrows." Luckily for Philly, measles raises it's spotty head again, so she is nicely busy at work - with little time to dwell on her newfound discovery. Walle invites Philly to spend Sunday with him again (remember, it's her only day off). She fibs and says that she's going to Friesland with Boring Hubert. Walle knows she's fibbing, so he shows up on Sunday morning(after breakfast) and asks her to go to lunch with him at his grandfather's place. Grandpa lives 170 MILES (not kilometers)! away. It's a good thing Walle drives a Maserati. Grandfather is very reminiscent of the dearly departed Commander Frost, RN retired, in that he can just blurt out whatever pops into his head. "No looks, lovely eyes, pretty figure...going to marry her, Walle? "Yes," said Walle. Now he just needs to convince Philly that he means it. Philly is still suffering from low self-esteem and doesn't quite believe Walle means it. He tells her he's going to wait to propose to her at a suitable time a place...she only has to wait a couple of days to find out what constitutes "suitable time and place" (I find this section quite, quite charming) Philly wakes up around 6am because Walle is tossing pebbles at her window. Awww. How cute is that? He's waiting outside on his horse - and he's brought a horse for her to ride. They discuss the slipperiness of fish, then Walle pops the question. After being reassured that Walle really does mean it, Philly says YES. But wait just a sec...there's still 37 pages to go?? Well, let's trot out the Family Jewels...this time it's rubies. And then another spot of croquet on the lawn, wherein Philly proves that she has at least some feminine wiles - she rests her hand on her croquet mallet so that Tritia can't fail to miss the gleam of 5 rubies surrounded by diamonds. Tritia's mum, who really is Evil Incarnate, comes to stay - she hates the interloper with the heat of a thousand hot hot suns. Walle seems pretty oblivious, and leaves Philly to her tender ministrations while he lopes off to some conference about something medical somewhere...RING!!! Dear Step-mama (remember her, from the beginning of the book?) calls to say that Chloe has chickenpox and needs, needs, NEEDS Philly to come and nurse her. Philly leaves a message with the evil aunt to pass on to Walle (like that's going to happen without some distortion!) Philly is then shuffled off to some unspeakable cottage in the middle of nowhere - with no access to the telephone...which, if it sounds a little like a hideout is because that is exactly what it is. Chloe is not really that sick, but she is terrified of anyone seeing her pock-marked face until it has healed. Where's Walle? He gets back to the castle to find that Philly is gone and Auntie Evil is lying. He cuts right through all the deception and gets to the truth, and then gives Auntie her packing orders. Oh, and take Tritia with you. Yay!! Now off to rescue Philly...he goes to the family home in Wareham and gets Step-mama to drive her car (he's in the Maserati) to the hideout. The big pay-off to this is that Walle convinces Philly that they should have a great big white wedding, with all the trimmings and invite as many friends and relatives as possible because he wants the whole world to share in their happiness. Just before the wedding we are treated to one more unthinkingly catty remark from Step-mama about how amazing it is that Philomena is going to marry such a rich handsome man...let's call it "Philomena's Miracle".

Rating: Even though this is sort of a cross between Cinderella and The Moon for Lavinia, it mostly worked for me. Sure, Walle sucked at giving compliments...but he was fairly consistent and most of his missteps were cute. Philomena's Miracle could have been really great, but somewhere around the middle it went a little pear-shaped. It's like The Venerable Neels lost track of which book she was writing...I'm giving this a boeuf en croute on the strength of Walle's backwards compliments and the white wedding he sort of forces on Philly.

Fashion: unobtrusive cream silk, silver nursing buckle, Jaeger short jacket with matching skirt, Jaeger trouser suit, green slacks with knitted green and white top, sensible canvas shoes, cotton shirtwaister in a Liberty print, white chiffon wedding dress.

Food: lobster fried with herbs and then covered and set alight with cognac, potato crisps, someone's birthday cake, rather stale biscuits, fish and chips, bag of toffees, stuck together, 3 lb. box of Fortnum and Mason's chocolates, meatballs and red cabbage.

Two Weeks to Remember - 1986

Charity Graham, 26, pretty - has dark, curling hair and a splendid figure (the dark curly hairs brands her as an Outlier). She is a shorthand typist, lives at home with her father (who loves first editions more than his daughter) and her Aunt Emily - who just doesn't seem to be able to make ends meet. She has been dating The Regrettable Sidney for a while now. She regrets that she is quite unable to daydream about him. He is some sort of civil servant - and acts like it. Very early on in the book she gives him the heave-ho. Charity works at St. Augustine's which is described as resembling Eustace Station, with more than a dash of the original Crystal Palace. Charity spends her days incarcerated in a room, typing, with the acidic Miss Hudson who is forever griping at Charity. Much of the typing Charity does is for Professor Jake Wyllie-Lyon (age 35ish) - who is the Senior Medical Consultant. We know right off that he's a good guy because of his atrocious handwriting that Charity has to decipher. Charity runs into Professor Hottie in the cemetery - where she is eating her ham roll while leaning up against an eighteenth-century angel. He leans up against a stone scroll - that lists the names of the family Wodecock...but I digress, he leans on the scroll and then invites Charity to go have a cup of coffee with him...which she does. He asks her about what went wrong with her date - and she, being an honest girl tells him that she dumped The Regrettable Sidney. Not long after that the professor takes her to lunch at The Cat and the Fiddle (pub) and he pumps her for more info..."Do you ever feel that you would like to change your job, Charity?" I sense some foreshadowing here. A couple of pages later he shows up at the Church Fête and watches Charity sell a crocheted bedjacket in a revolting shade of pink to a haughty lady from the better end of St. John's Wood. "I must say you have remarkably persuasive powers; no woman worth her salt would wear a pink monstrosity such as you have just sold her." Jake (I refuse to keep typing "Professor Wyllie-Lyon") takes Charity and Aunt Emily home - which is not unalloyed joy to Charity. "The professor had been a kind of secret delight to her, an interest in her otherwise rather staid life." He's about to become more - because he asks her if she will quite working at the hospital and come work in his office as his secretary is leaving in a month to get married. Well, duh. She does go to his office to be given the tour by his current secretary. His offices sound pretty posh, I especially like the touch of having a cheery imitation log fire in the consulting room. That would certainly help nervous patients relax. The work is hard, but she does get perks: much better salary, somewhat flexible hours, and a handsome boss. Unfortunately that boss has a girlfriend named Bad News Brenda. We know Brenda is evil because she calls the doctor at work saying that "it's urgent" in a high imperious voice and her name is "Brenda". Jake takes Charity home from time to time when she has to work late - her dad likes him "He's an Oxford man...went to Magdalen." Enter Dr. Kemble, Kiwi. He's in the UK for a couple of months to pick up some ideas about leukemia. Pick up ideas about leukemia? Yeah, and pick up Charity. The first time he meets her he tries to ask her out. That must have effected her in some way or another because by the end of the day she figures out that she's in love. In love with Jake - not Dr. Kemble. "And of all the silly things to do...that's just about the silliest." I beg to differ. The silliest thing she does is to walk over to his house and spy on him that evening. She ends up hiding in the area (British word alert!) of a house across the street. Charity goes out with Dr. Kemble wherein he confesses his love...his love for a girl back home in New Zealand. Which nicely sets Charity up with a smokescreen for her love. Crossing the street to work one morning Charity rescues a dog...with the help of Jake. Jake must find dog rescuing irresistible, because he gives Charity a kiss. After work Jake takes her back to his place so that they may take care of that important item of business, The Ceremonial Naming of The Rescued Animal. Since the dog is so bony, he gets the name of....Bones (perhaps La Neels was a closet Trekkie?) Speaking of names, Jake calls Charity an "echinus" - harmless and pleasing to look at but very prickly. Jake goes away on business for a couple of days - Charity drinks her coffee while sitting in his office chair - the picture of Bad News Brenda is staring at her, so she places it face down on the desk...and forgets to put it back. When Jake asks her to speak to the cleaning lady about it, she fesses up. Christmas rolls around - and Neels approved gifts are handed round...a Hermes scarf from Jake to Charity, a leather pocket book from Charity to Jake. And now we come to.....Two Weeks to Remember! Jake takes Charity to Norway for two weeks. Don't worry about the language, everyone speaks English! Jake happens to speak Norwegian - since his mum is Norwegian! Charity spends most of her days typing like a maniac, when she's not taking down shorthand. Jake does manage to take her sightseeing...to the ski jump and Vigeland Park. She likes Vigeland so much that she goes back by herself the next day. (*no offense to Norwegians, but I just wasn't into the art I saw there...) When the weekend comes, it's off to the family homestead near Flam. After a coffee break en route, Jake kisses Charity...she tells him not to do it again, and he says, "Another word for Charity is love. Shall I call you that?" Girlfriend, he's hitting on you! Wake up! Charity says that they must remember Bad News Brenda...This is Jake's cue to say, Forget Bad News Brenda, but no, he says they will have to have "a little talk" when they return home and have more time...hint, hint. Maybe instead of spending the weekend trying to teach Charity to ski they could have had "a little talk"? He misses a great opportunity when he takes her to visit the stave church at Laerdal...I can't imagine it being crowded in January. Back to Oslo for another week of nose to the grindstone...while eating breakfast together on the last morning Charity is to be found staring at an appalling picture on the wall instead of peeking at Bad News Brenda's letter that Jake is carelessly strewing around the table. Seeing as it's Oslo, I'm sure the picture on the wall was appalling. Speaking of appalling pictures on walls in Oslo has anyone else ever noticed the murals in Oslo Town Hall? Just missing some black velvet to make them perfect...Back to the family homestead for the weekend - Charity accidentally skis down the slope and nearly into the fjord...only her good fairy kept her skis from tangling. Jake helps her stop, then takes her back up and makes her go down again. A quick trip to Bergen on the way home...sightseeing at Grieg's house, the Floien (Neels spelling) funicular, the Bryggen, King Haakon's Hall, King Oscar's Gate, you know, touristy stuff. Back home again, Charity goes on one last date with Dr. Kemble - and as if we need any reminders that he is not "Mr. Right" - he takes her to Poon's Chinese restaurant (which recently made an appearance in Last April Fair). Darn. La Neels didn't put any danger (except for a brief skiing snafu) in this book...let's slip it in on page 168! As Charity is taking a packed bus home from work - the bus gets hi-jacked by some young thugs and crashes. No one seems hurt until someone yells "FIRE", and the stout man in front of Charity elbows her right in the eye. That's enough to get her taken to the hospital where Jake sees her getting out of the ambulance..."My poor darling...." Methinks it's just about time for that little talk. Nope, after getting examined in the Accident Centre, Jake wisks Charity back to his house and has his housekeeper tuck her up while waiting for Aunt Emily to come and act as chaperone. When she has recovered a bit, it's time to go back home, but not before a handy bit of snogging in the hall and Charity confessing her love...(how about that little talk NOW???)...On her way back to her home, Charity stops by the office to see how things are going and finds her replacement! Replacement? Yes, she has been made redundant. Of course she cries (is that good for her black eye?). Jake doesn't come around for 3 days - not until she is stuck selling knitted baby booties at the church Fancy Fair. Jake hauls her off to the pantry and confesses his love and proposes. Kisses ensue...the end.

Rating: In spite of the name "Two Weeks to Remember", this is not one of La Neels most memorable books. Is it bad? No. Is it good? Well....sometimes. I am quite put off that Jake confesses his love on the last page of the book and says "I've been in love with you since the very first moment I set eyes on you. You were standing on a chair in Miss Hudson's office changing a light bulb. I took one look and knew that there would never be anyone else but you." It sounds lovely and all, until you consider that he's known her for about two years and did nothing about it except to date Bad News Brenda and put her picture on his desk. Lame. None of the supporting characters, with perhaps the exception of the acidic Miss Hudson, really seemed fleshed out. Despite a houseful of family in Norway, only Jake's mum is introduced, which is really a shame. Aunt Emily and Mr. Graham are better, but only slightly, and the odious Brenda is given one short scene, a phone call or two and a letter. I would rate this one somewhere in between treacle tart and mince pies.
Food: slabs of corned beef, baked beans and instant mashed potatoes on a take-it or leave-it basis, roll eaten while leaning on a stone angel in a cemetery, cheese soufflé, treacle tart, mushrooms in cream and wine, lobster Cardinal, purée of chestnets with whipped cream, shrimp cocktail, steak tartare, crêpe Suzette, ansjos (marinated sprats), torsk (cod), flotte vaffles served with cloudberries, riskrem.

Fashion: last year's moss crêpe in a pleasing shade of mushroom pink, fine wool dress in a pleasing shade of green, sheepskin jacket, hand knitted matching scarf, cap and gloves, white tie and tails, top hat.

The Promise of Happiness--1979

"Oh, I'll do The Promise of Happiness," I said to Betty Debbie, my head cocked to the right, holding the phone between my ear and my shoulder. My brow puckered. The Promise of Happiness...which one was that? The fabulous one, that's what.

Becky (only-my-evil-relations-call-me-Rebecca) Saunders is nothing less than the bravest woman in Neelsdom. The. Bravest. At first glance she's nothing much to look at. Her elderly raincoat and scarf are sopping wet, she's carrying a mangy looking cat in a plastic sack (recycling!), Bertie the dog is trotting alongside with a lead. She's been walking briskly along this desolate stretch of road for miles in the dim light of a summer morning and she's thin--almost emaciated, really. She's got no home, no family, two pets, just the clothes she's standing up in, a comb and 30 Pounds and sixty pence, scrimped into a tiny nest egg for two years. Due to her lack of food, I loathe saying this, has probably got salt-cellars for bosoms.
But she's out there in a horrible rainstorm because it's the right thing to do. In short, she's Amelia, freaking, Earhart.
Up whispers a silver-grey Rolls Royce Corniche. The very handsome man who climbs out of the car says good morning and proceeds to introduce himself, "My name's Raukema van den Eck--Tiele Raukema van den Eck." (Are you sure it's not Bond, James Bond?) It's Baron Tiele Raukema van den Eck, in point of fact.
I've seen this one before. Honey, when Richard Gere slows down to offer roadside lifts, don't demur about ruining his seats with your pets. Just hop in and you'll be at the Beverly Wiltshire in no time. But, whatever you do, don't kiss him. Kissing just anybody makes you trampy.
Tiele takes her into Newcastle where he offers her breakfast. She's explained by this time that she's a nurse but that she's been forced to keep house for her step-brother Basil (no relation to the herb), and her step-mother.
Editorial Comment: My own step-mother is much beloved which is why I know she has a given name. Becky evidently didn't get to the exchanging-of-Christian-names part of their relationship which is why she is only ever referred to as step-mother.
Basil was going to kill the pets the next day (because his sociopathic rage is more of a low-simmer variety) so Becky, who'd been stuck there for years, ups and offs--in the rain, with the pets, with 30 Pounds and sixty pence.
Tiele feels a bit of a heel letting her go out in the rain again but she is free and over 21...
Out in the lobby Becky comes to the aid of an old woman in a wheel chair. Her quick thinking and kindness are appreciated and after she leaves the hotel is chased down by Tiele once more.
Hey, that was my mother you helped...She just fired her nurse...How would you treat ulcerative protocolitis?...No she doesn't have it...I'm quizzing you...Oh, yes, I am a doctor--Why else would I be so hot?...Why don't you give up this dream of homelessness and penury and further starvation to go on a fabulous cruise?!...Your pets can come to Holland with me.
And that's that. She's hired, is given an hour and a stipend to buy some plain uniforms and undies (!--Will someone explain The Great Neels' fascination with knickers?), and finds herself in fabulous luxury with a congenial patient, lovingly folding her silk undies (!).
I am mildly surprised that the Baron would hand over his frail invalid mother to someone who may or may not smother her in her sleep. Becky could be a congenital liar with handy props for all he knows. Happily she is not.
The Baroness has a fractured tib and fib that has taken some time to knit. Betty Debbie is practically an expert on wheel chairs and cruise ships and bones that take a long time to knit so I expect a robust discussion thread on these topics.
The cruise. We get to hear about Becky making "a sincere effort not to be thin anymore" (oh I just love her), extravagant shore trips, and, best of all, occasional calls from the Baron--whose rapport with Becky is mildly condescending but she gives as good as she gets. The Baroness is happy to feign sleep just to listen in on the conversations. She will be a delightful mother-in-law and probably volunteer to take their children for afternoons and send them back sugared-up just because she can.
Trondheim, Norway. The Baron shows up unexpectedly one morning with a pretty blonde named Tialda. Oh it's just his sister. Whew. Keeping with Raukema van den Eck family tradition, she makes personal remarks, "You said she was plain...a half-starved mouse." Maybe Tialda had also been told that Becky was a deaf-mute as well.
Becky flashes back after enduring the burning light of the Baron's microscope for some uncomfortable moments, "If you have finished discussing me, I'll tell the Baroness that you're here. Such manners!"
It is then that Tialda has her Dawning Realization. Here is the girl who will lay her brother low at last. A fat lot of good a sister's recognition of budding true love is...
Unfortunately, Trondheim also contains an episode wherein our hero (whom I promise we will learn to love as Becky does) tells his mother (Becky overhears!) that thin mice are not his cup of tea. I was so mad I almost didn't forgive him when he says he wants to see more of The Obvious Brunette who replaces Becky for her short holiday in Molde.
In Molde, the Baron is surprised to learn that Becky swims really well (yay! Take that you supercilious tea drinker!) and she is sad to think that all he sees is "a dowdy girl who wore cheap clothes and didn't know how to make the best of herself--and she wasn't really like that...it was difficult to splash out...and he was so secure himself that he would never have known the insecurity that not having money brought with it." Which puts me in mind of those stories you hear about people who lived through the Great Depression--hoarding every sliver of soap and burying money in Mason jars in the backyard.
Tialda comments to her brother that Becky will make someone a splendid wife and the Baron frowns. The thin end of the wedge...
Back in Holland, the Baron walks his mother, sister and Nurse Becky into his house to find a stunning blonde with an fashionably untidy mop of hair. All is forgotten (mother, Becky, dinner, Bertie and Pooch) while Nina van Doorn is entertained. The Baron will live to regret his thoughtlessness for decades to come, I am sure.
He finds Becky a job and a tiny attic flat. Forgive me for skipping great swaths of fabulousness but there's too much of it. All you need to know is that he begins to see that the Insidious van Doorn takes a lotta maintenance to stay fashionably untidy and that Little Becky is holding her own in their undeclared battle of wills.
He asks her to call him Doctor (because she's been 'Baron'-ing him all over the place) and she answers, "Just as you wish, Doctor." "I sometimes suspect that you are laughing at me," he observed blandly.
See what I mean? She's knocked him off his Rich Dutch Doctor pedestal and he's attempting to clutch his dignity to himself like a maiden aunt wearing her best hat in a windstorm.
At the hospital she continues her Reign of Awesomeness (picturing a galloping Mongol horde in my head) and keeps impinging on his consciousness enough so that he asks her out. I don't know what his reasoning was--maybe a mixture of pity and curiosity or perhaps he's trying to pin down why the thought of her making some houseman a splendid wife makes him frown--but by the end of the picnic he's found that he enjoyed every second with her, appreciates that she is one of the happiest people he knows (to contrast with a certain sulky and whiny character---rhymes with thorn, born, shorn, forlorn (as Shakespeare might say, "an unhappy rhyme")) and realizes...something. He's not sure what yet. But it's enough to swoop in and kiss her.
Her Dawning Realization follows and I can't really blame her. It was a shattering kiss. Her bones have turned to jelly but she's in her right mind enough to know that retreat is impossible. Quarantine fees, you know. She'll have to apply herself to those Dutch verbs and hope to find another hospital in six months or so. But I'm sure that first night of study was no good:

• Nina van Doorn is een bedorven rotkind. (NvD is a spoiled brat.)
• Mijn liefde voor de Baron is hopeloos. (My love for the Baron is hopeless.)
• Bertie en Hond zullen de dood van mij zijn. (Bertie and Pooch will be the death of me.---FYI, even the online translator read 'Pooch' as Hond--dog--even though she's the cat.)

Bertie will really be the death of her. That dumb dog (don't blame him, he has a cat name) escapes in a thunder storm, half drowns himself in a canal and requires Becky and the Baron (sounds like a Nancy Drew mystery) to shuck their Burberrys and swim in.
Muzzy on 'peculiar' tasting Napoleon brandy in the aftermath, Becky indiscreetly tells him that Nina is no good for him and that he should marry someone kind and good for him. This is one of those oopsie-daisy cross-cultural courtship mishaps that crop up from time to time in every relationship. When Brit girl says, "You should think about marrying someone who is not a merciless block of statuary," the Dutch-boy translation is "I've just keyed your Rolls Royce Corniche because I could and killed a man just to watch him die." Oopsie.
Tiele, making one last bid to recapture his spot on the Rich Dutch Doctor pedestal, lashes out, "...should she be a skinny creature with no conversation--such as yourself, Rececca?" Did you notice how he calls her Rebecca? That should put her firmly in her place.
It does. She spends the next few days in a fever of dread that she will have to see him and making PSA announcements about the dangers of drinking and talking. How he spends the next few days isn't explicitly spelled out in the book but I argue that this is when he has his own, final Dawning Realization. He runs out of Becky's flat without shutting the door and positively gallops down the stairs. What's he running from? Himself, that's what. A skinny, plain little creature--who does she think she is? It must have been a horribly uncomfortable thing to abandon the pedestal once and for all and to admit that a girl he had no intention of loving, not to mention noticing, is the sun the moon and the whole enchilada. I think of him sleeping very poorly once he realizes he just called his future wife a skinny creature with no conversation...to her face.
So, after plucking up his courage and girding up his loins, he corners her in a nurses' corridor and asks her to come to lunch with his mother and sister. That's right. He's reduced to conducting his courtship behind his womenfolk's skirts. Oh how the mighty have fallen.
Naturally he shows up at the end to give her a lift back--with Garden Statuary Nina (she keeps inviting herself to things).
"You'll be late on duty,"
"I prefer to be that than--than...I suppose you think it's funny to watch her snubbing me."
Becky may be thin and small but when she fell in love she didn't lose her backbone. (Team Becky!)
But then one day the doctor goes completely off the rails. Becky accepted a date with a houseman-- Wim the Worthy--because his girlfriend was busy. The doctor's prescription for the predicament is to drag Nina (who keeps inserting herself into his life anyway) off to a te-de-ious chamber music concert where he plants himself in an expensive seat and stares, with a scowl on his face, at the back of Becky's head. The. Entire. Night.
He manages to rid himself of Nina and cut Wim out of the picture and then tells Becky that he only went to the concert "because you did"!
He didn't just walk away from his aloof Rich Dutch Doctor pedestal. He's chopped it down, dragged it to a clearing and built a bon fire.
One more location to go! Becky helps nurse the Baroness as she goes to England. Lots of darling things happen, Basil the Bad makes one last ditch effort to turn Becky into Rebecca and our hero carries her off to an Olde Worlde Tea Shoppe where, on the strength of his feelings, makes her eat with one hand. (He won't let go of the other one!!!) Kisses!

Rating: I loved this--just loved it--from the first vision of her whistling her way down a wet English road to the very last second outside the Tea Shoppe. Becky was brave and plucky and honest. Tiele was so mixed-up and turned around and then really, really let himself go when he'd finally diagnosed the problem. I bestow the most joyful queen of puddings. The only thing that makes it anything less than a lashings of whipped cream (which I'm already regretting not giving it) is that when I picked it up I could hardly remember which one it was. I think that has something to do with the title. The Promise of Happiness just didn't leap...zzzzzzzzzzzzz. They need to rename this Becky and the Baron (the hot, hot Baron).

Food: Iced celery soup (Why on earth?), cold chicken-tangerine-apple salad, peach royale, chilled strawberry soup (I want some!), blueberry pie and (for The Picnic of Dawning Realization) chicken legs wrapped in foil, tiny pork pies, minute sausages, crisp rolls filled with ham and dishes of salad and ice cream in a container as well as coffee in a thermos jug and Moselle (which she likes and he tolerates for her sake).

Fashion: An old-fashioned rain coat and sopping scarf to start, later a worthy-looking dark blue nurse's uniforms and cardigan, and then (in one shopping trip when she gets to splash a bit--see left) 2 cotton dresses and cardigan, blue slacks, cotton tops, flat sandals, sensible slippers, a flowered cotton skirt with a lace-trimmed blouse. The Baroness pronounces everything to be in the best of taste. After that a knit set in old rose (Betty did like her old rose, didn't she?) and in anticipation of going on a date with him a pretty flowered cotton voile and a grey skirt (with pink roses) with a pale pink crepe blouse for the theatre.

Last April Fair - 1980

Thirty years ago this week (April 1980), Dr. van der Stevejinck and I became engaged. I truly didn't notice the coincidence until I started typing this review. How very serendipitous.

Yet another reason to love this book (well, at least parts of it).

Prologue:

Phyllida (aka Phylly) Cresswell is a 26 year old nurse. Tall, slim, pretty with shortish blonde hair and a fringe (that's 'bangs' to you and me), in other words, an Outlier. She has been dating the boring Philip (really? Phil and Phylly?) for some time now. After a grueling day on the ward Philip takes Phyllida out for Chinese. Chinese food, as we all know, is the death knell of any relationship in Neeldom. Phylly knows that Phil is not the guy for her, so she turns down his lukewarm proposal. "...I've given the matter a great deal of thought lately and I'm sure you're the wife for me; we know each other very well by now and I'm more than half in love with you." Ummm...half? She rates half his love? Phylly is right to turn down such a tepid Romeo. Phil acts a bit like Mr. Collins in Pride and Prejudice and refuses to believe that "no" means "no". He tells Phylly that he will wear her down until she accepts him. Phyllida's mum tells her that it's a good thing she didn't say yes, because Phil was not the right sort for her. "What is my sort..." she asks. Her mother replies, "Well, he doesn't have to be handsome, but eye-catching, if you know what I mean, the sort of man who would take command in a sticky situation and know just what to do - and not let you have your own way unless he thought it was good for you...a man who would never take you for granted; take great care of you without you ever knowing it..." Do I detect a bit of foreshadowing?

Act I: Wherein Phyllida chucks her nursing job and goes on a cruise.

Dr. Cresswell, Phyllida's dad, gives her a call at the hospital and tells her of an upcoming job. She would be taking care of a terminally ill 18 year-old who has (let's get out the medical dictionary here) erythroblastic leukaemia. Even though Gaby de Wolff is quite ill, her parents swear that she's dying (ironic) to go on a cruise...so, let's haul anchor and head off to the briny deep. Mr. de Swine in Wolff's Clothing vows that he will send all the medical records to the ship's doctor....but then doesn't. All Phylly has to work with is some case notes. Once on board ship Phylly heads down to sick-bay and has a chat with...the doctor. No, sorry, this is not THE doctor...yes, we're already to page 38 and we have not met him yet. Tardy, tardy doctor. Gaby starts having some pretty bad headaches and being sick. The ship's doctor advises Phylly that Gaby should be near a hospital - there is one in Madeira, their next stop. Mr. and Mrs. de Swine arrange rooms for the girls at a hotel - but they aren't planning on staying. No, even though their daughter is on the brink of death, they plan to continue the cruise and pick Gaby and Phylly up when the ship comes back in a few days. Things go okay for a couple of days until Gaby suddenly goes into a coma.

Act II: Wherein we FINALLY get to meet the hero and have some fun.

(enter RDD - Rich Dutch Doctor) Remember when Phylly's mom told her that she needed someone who would take command in a sticky situation and know just what to do? Well, that's exactly what Dr. Pieter van Sittardt does. Mind you, this is page 53 in my edition and we're just getting around to introductions? They get Gaby to the hospital, where she dies. SHE DIES? Yes, but never mind that, our story is about Phylly and Pieter. Gaby's parents fly in the next day and try to accuse Phylly of neglect - but Dr. van Sittardt sets them straight. They are not overcome with grief, after all "...it isn't as though she were our own daughter. We adopted her when she was a baby..." (stay tuned for this subject in the discussion thread!) Phylly is more grief-stricken than Gaby's adoptive parents. As one last act of pettishness on their part they sneak off the island and leave Phylly stranded with very little money. Pieter comes to the rescue again and offers Phylly a place to stay until the next ship comes by. No worries, it's with a married couple with whom he is staying. The next section is quite a departure for La Neels. Pieter and Phyllida spend a week together (usually with his friends) doing the kinds of things normal people do on vacation. They go out to dinner, go dancing, swimming, drives in the countryside...they even take a toboggan ride down the cobbled streets. When her ship arrives, Pieter travels back to England with her - in the cabin right next door. The two are quite friendly - although Phylly is a little unsure at first if he really wants her around. Pieter sets her straight, "...Get this clear, love, I'm a shy man, I don't know a soul on board and I intend to cling to you like a limpet...During waking hours, of course." Pieter and Phyllida spend their days swimming, playing deck games, lounging in the sun and playing table tennis. Idyllic except that Phylly is a little jealous of a stunning blonde. Personally I don't think there's any real competition. The dishy blonde is described thus: "...She had piled-up hair, dressed in a careless riot of curls and crowned with a tiny cap sporting a curling feather which curved round one cheek..." I have a hard time getting my imagination around that one. Phyllida sees Pieter talking to The Bombshell - with said bombshell standing in a beguiling attitude calculated to show her figure off to the best possible advantage. To pay him back, she flirts mildly with a man called/described as "Pebble Glasses". I think this is manifestly unfair - the doctor is chatting up a ravishing blonde and the best Phylly can do is Pebble Glasses? Unfair.
The cruise ends at Millwall Dock which is surprisingly close to London. Pieter proceeds to drive Phyllida home to Shaftesbury and manages to get invited to spend a couple of days. Phyllida's family all like Pieter immensely and they conspire to hatch a nefarious plot. Phylly senses a trap...but she can't help getting caught in it. Phyllida, Mrs. Cresswell and Willy (youngest son of the Cresswells) are all to go to Holland and have a jolly holiday for two weeks. Which brings us to:

Act III: Wherein Phylly goes to Holland and meets the Obligatory "Other Woman".

The party crosses The Channel on the Hovercraft and land at Calais. They are met in France by Pieter's "man" who has graciously driven Pieter's car down to meet them. Surprisingly, the car is practically vintage. Pieter says he's had it for 15 years. Assuming it was new when he got it, he would be driving a 1965 Bentley. A rather fine looking car, in my opinion. Phylly is rather dismayed at how grand Pieter's house is. It's beautiful, but evidently it bespeaks wealth. He goes out of his way to make the Cresswells feel comfortable - taking Willy fishing, talking flowers with Mrs. Cresswell, and holding hands and kissing Phylly. His parents come over for dinner (they have retired to a home near a golf course) and all is well. Or is it? Mevrouw van Sittardt asks Phylly whether or not she has met Marena the Evil Artist? This is where it all seems to go pear-shaped. Marena is only 19 years old..but she is old in the ways of the world. I had a tough time with how much Pieter let her hang all over him - it's one thing to be friendly, but this was over and above. I don't blame Phyllida for her confusion. Young Willy steals the yacht and Phylly has to swim out to help him - both are saved by Pieter - who is pretty magnanimous about the whole thing...Pieter and Phyllida do start to make some progress in their relationship (in spite of the spiteful Marena) and Pieter seems to be on the verge of proposing when. . .Aap the Butler announces "A gentleman to see Miss Cresswell." "But I don't know any gentlemen" she replies. Who could it be? Boring Philip drops in out of nowhere. He's come to take Phylly back so they can get married. No Way, No How, is Phyllida's reaction - but of course Pieter happens to walk in on Philip hugging her (clumsily, natch). Philip is invited to dinner where he meets Marena - who invites him over to see her paintings. "Phyllida stifled a giggle. Marena must have heard that one about men asking girls up to see their etchings..." Philip kisses Phyllida one last time - of course Pieter sees it - there is confusion all around. Pieter thinks there is something going on with Philip and Phyllida. Phyllida thinks there is something going on with Pieter and Marena...(and that is quite enough with names starting with "P"!!)Phyllida indulges in some crying and has to resort to wearing dark glasses to hide her red, puffy eyes. And now it's time to go home. As Pieter is leaving, he kisses Phylly on the cheek and then quotes a snippet of poetry by John Clare:

Last April fair, when I got bold with beer,—
I loved her long before, but had a fear
To speak

Pieter leaves...Phylly finally gets it! She gallops out of the house so as to try and catch him before he goes... "...it's you and me Pieter. Pieter darling!" Evidently he found that satisfactory; "My own dear darling, you've got it right at last...I love you." They didn't notice when the milkman stopped his float alongside the Bentley; they didn't notice as he squeezed past them, nor did they hear his cheerful good morning... Curtain.

Food: watercress soup, mushroom omelette, pork chops, frozen peas, chips, bifes de atum, sweet potatoes in fritters, caramel flan, Pimms (with not too much gin), scones, honey and hazelnut bavarois, caviar, poached salmon, chicken cooked in cream and Madeira.
Fashion: jersey suit with a silk blouse, new bikini, 3 cotton dresses - sleeveless and light as air, pink crepe evening dress, white organza evening dress, Indian cotton sun-dress that tied at the shoulder, tunic slashed to the waist with tight velvet pants under (worn by Artsy Girl).

Rating:Why do I seem to get all the tough ones to rate? The first 49 pages were just okay - it's all about Phyllida, Philip and La Familia de Wolff. No mention of the doctor until page 49, but then I really loved the book. The next 50 pages or so were quite good - and lots of fun. Loved it. I didn't love the last 80 pages that much...it was a bit of a slog. Marena the Evil Artist didn't make any sense to me - if we assume RDD was 39 years old (standard RDD age), he was 20 years older than her - sure he wasn't romantically attracted (I guess), but why let her mess up a promising relationship? And then there was Philip showing up - I found that pretty random. Philip didn't seem the type to spend money needlessly - and it would have cost him more than a few gulden for his little trip. Okay, here goes: Prologue - treacle tart, Act I - boeuf en croute, Act II - Lashings of Whipped Cream, Act III - beans on toast. After totting up my sums, I end up with almost (but not quite) mince pies.

The Course of True Love - 1988

The Course of True Love is hard for me to rate. There is sooo much to like....and quite a bit to not like. Let's get down to it.

Claribel Brown is a physiotherapist at St. Jerome’s in London. Age: 28. Tall, Junoesque, beautiful – she is almost an “Olivia”…but she’s a blonde. BLONDE. One of a very few blonde heroines in Neeldom. (In honor of this, my illustrations will feature blondes!) As she is waiting to catch the bus home, one rainy day she is shoved into the gutter by someone in the queue. A Rolls pulls up silently and the man behind the wheel orders her to get in. She sensibly says “Thank you; I prefer to go by bus.” Handsome Stranger in Rolls; “Don’t be a fool, young woman, I have no intention of kidnapping you…” (which is probably what a kidnapper would say). He takes her home and they introduce themselves to each other. He is Dr. Marc van Borsele. She lets him into his house, whips off her tights and allows him to examine her injured foot (there's three things your mama told you never to do: take a ride from a stranger, let a stranger in your house and whip off your tights for a stranger). As he leaves he admonishes her not to open her door to or take lifts from strangers. This does not seem to be the beginning of a beautiful friendship. Claribel soon has an opportunity to ride in that Rolls again. She is heading to the train station to go home to Tisbury for the weekend, hauling her luggage and the TWO CATS (which I have to think is quite a handful – I’m writing this while sitting on the train – I had two small pieces of luggage and a cloth grocery bag…and that was really a bit more than I wanted to be carrying. I can’t imagine having a cat carrier with two cats too!) when Handsome (no longer a stranger) Dr. Borsele drives by and picks her up.
Marc seems to show up with almost monotonous regularity. Claribel helps out with the hospital bazaar (that was opened by minor royalty…which minor royalty, I wonder???What is considered "minor royalty"?) –Marc shows up. He takes her home and asks if she is going to invite him to tea….and so it begins. Marc is always stopping by and begging a meal from Claribel. I lost track of the number of meals/snacks she fixes for him. Marc invites Claribel out to dinner. I do love his deviousness…he looks at her with big puppy dog eyes and she caves; “…he contrived to look lonely and hungry and in need of companionship; Claribel was aware that he was doing it deliberately, but all the same it seemed heartless to refuse.” He seems very sure of himself and he is constantly asking favours of Claribel. “Claribel, will you come help me use these tickets to Phantom of the Opera?.” “Claribel, come to Richmond Park with me.” Claribel, Claribel, Claribel. You’d think she’d get the idea that he likes her…but she remains stubbornly clueless – and increasingly irritated at him. “why come to England when he has a perfectly good country of his own?” It would be easy to get irritated with him myself, but he redeems himself over and over again by all the nice things he does. He saves her train fare as he drives her to and from Tisbury, takes her out, recovers a chair for her, feeds the cats, and even washes up.
Claribel; “Domesticity has two sides to it..you have overlooked the cooking and washing up and clearing away side of it.” “No, no…there is pleasure in the sight of some little woman bending over the kitchen sink. “ Claribel said “Huh!” (as well she should. Fret not, Gentle Reader, Marc was just having her on a bit…he actually washes up and feeds the cats so that she can get ready to go out with him) by this time it’s pretty obvious to any one (anyone EXCEPT Claribel) that Marc wants to marry her…he’s just waiting for her to find out that she wants to marry him. Enter The Evil Woman Irma Cooper. On their way down to Tisbury (again) they come upon a recent accident and Marc volunteers to take a beautiful girl home. This beautiful girl has no soul. None. The driver of the car she was in was taking her to "Brighton” and got KILLED. Yes, killed. You heard me. Evil Irma doesn’t care a bit about dead boyfriend, she needs to get home so that her parents won’t find out that she was going to 'Brighton'. Claribel sees through her, but assumes that Marc doesn’t . “Men!” said Claribel with feeling. “They can be so dim.” Marc really isn’t that dim – while Claribel is busy assuming the worst of him, he’s visiting his sister who gives birth to a son over the weekend and Marc was up all night.

The Deception:
Irma the Soulless turns out to be a stalker. Really. She lays in wait for Marc everywhere….Marc asks Claribel if she will pretend to be his fiancée so as to discourage Irma the Soulless. Claribel doesn’t want to do it, but Marc manages to get her into it before she knows it. He takes her out to eat at the Savoy – and puts a diamond ring in her hand when Irma walks in. April Fool's, Irma! She slips on his great-grandmother’s ring (boy is he going to have to pay for that when they are happily married – the fact that she had to put on her own engagement ring…as a deception). Marc asks her to “flash the ring”. (April Fool's again!) Claribel turns out to be a pretty good actress…”You should call me ‘darling’ more often; it does something to my ego.” She retorts that his ego doesn’t need it. She does agree to a series of “dates” at posh places about town so that Irma will have more opportunity to see the happy couple. Dining and dancing ensue, also lying. Marc invites Claribel to go to Holland for a visit...she says, "It's impossible, I've no holiday due, and what about Enoch and Toots?" Is it simply a coincidence that a bomb goes off in the physio department a few days later? And that Marc happens to come to Claribels rescue, throwing his not inconsiderable weight on top of her and Mrs. Snow? Hmmm.... Okay, okay I don't really think Marc had anything to do with the bomb...but it is awfully convenient - because now there is no excuse for Claribel not to go to Holland. It's here that Claribel finally sees Casa van Borsele. It's a castle, size small. Complete with pepperpot tower. Oh, and it must have slipped his mind, but instead of Mr. or Dr. or even Professor...it's Baron van Borsele. With less than 20 pages to go in the book Claribel finally realizes she's in love. Baron Marc watches her face carefully...He must have found his scrutiny satisfactory for he observed softly, "Well, well....shall we go?" She briefly toys with finding an antipodean job (New Zealand)...but when she gets stuck at the top of the Oldehove tower Marc comes to her rescue as she recites Tennyson. I love you, no, I love YOU, Kiss kiss. The end.

Food: Dutch apple tart with lashings of whipped cream, gingerbread, lemon tart, potato soup, shepherd’s pie, pineapple upside-down pudding, steak and kidney pie, Lobster Thermidor, chandfroid of raspberries, chicken in a cream sauce, an omelette filled with strawberries with warm wine sauce and cream, Victoria sponge, chicken a la king,
Fashion: a plastic pinny that says “Work Hard”, needlecord skirt and knitted jumper, quilted jacket, cotton jersey ensemble in pale toffee, pearly grey crepe de Chine with pale pink flowers, dark blue crepe de Chine.

Rating: Why isn't "Steamed Pudding With Raisins" a rating? Because that's what this seems like it is. Betty has some wonderful prose and I loved much of this book. Loved it. Unfortunately Claribel is just a little too blonde for me (thus the hated raisins). She is much too resistant to Marc - with no good reason. He's a little abrupt and arrogant, and yes, he invites himself in to meals quite often, but ladies, he scrambles eggs, washes dishes, recovers a chair and takes her out on the town...And then there is a bona fide stalker - Irma the Soulless. Love her, or rather Hate her. In lieu of "steamed pudding" I think I'll give this "mince pies".

Tulips For Augusta--1971

Tulips For Augusta. Boy did I love this one. Sometimes when you hit the used book store and pick up three or four Neels that you've never read before (as used to happen to me *tears*), you have a tendency to whip through them pretty quickly, lost in a Betty fog. Both Betty Debbie and I are finding that even with taking copious notes and a going at a plodding pace, these Neels books are holding their own and some of them (Tulips For Augusta, Grasp a Nettle, I'm looking at you...) are better (way better) then remembered.

Augusta Brown, 23, Staff Nurse at St. Jude's is in a bit of a snit. She's been summarily ordered to tend the patients of the private wing. Her steady date, Archie Dukes, won't get to see her as often (which is for the best as those with names like 'Archie Dukes' are, like Communism and Fascism, doomed to litter the ash heaps of history). And she'll have to consort with Private Patients--those who The Venerable Betty must have had only the scantiest affection for. These include, like the cast of a mystery who-done-it:

• Spoiled child and ineffectual mother. "Stop crying Marlene."
  
• An old man with a young wife--too young, sister observed darkly
  
• A film starlet Dawn Dewey (or is she Miss Scarlet?)--discontented and a little vapid
  
• a chronic alcoholic with a pretty, weak face and a gushing manner--we'll call her Mrs. Peacock
• The Brigadier (Colonel Mustard)--he and his leg will part ways in the morning. This reminds me of Benedict Arnold. In serving in the American Revolution, Arnold injures his leg but goes on to fight for 'the dastardly Tories'. Arnold's question, "What will the Americans do with me if they catch me?" A plucky officer replied, "They will cut off the leg which was wounded when you were fighting so gloriously for the cause of liberty, and bury it with the honors of war, and hang the rest of your body on a gibbet. Which story I find ghoulishly delightful.
  
• Lady Belway--fractured femur, lace nightcap and a marabou (!) cape

Mr. Boddy has been found whacked over the head with a wrench in the sluice room and fingers are pointing everywhere.
No, of course, I jest. La Neels only kills off inoffensive parents in order to cast our heroines adrift.

Lady Belway has the most interesting visitors. A tall man (a giant really) with straw hair and Miss Susan Belsize (a character like a cold sore--disfiguring but ultimately treatable. Also, she spends a lot of time in Paris--that's how you know she's rotten) who dazzles the work-a-day nurses with her up-to-the-minute fashion. Augusta just wants to pop in and grab the chart when the blonde giant's eye is caught by her carroty hair. Yes, he calls it carroty but you forgive him because it's as plain as the tip-tilted nose on your face that he's just lost his heart to a certain Staff Nurse.
Is he chatting her up is he merely curious? Augusta is puzzled and annoyed but not so off her head that she isn't glad to be wearing her new elegant slingbacks as she passes him in the forecourt. This somehow compensated for the fact that he drove a Rolls-Royce.
On a particularly hairy day she receives tulips from The Man. He catches her on the stair and says, "You make me feel so welcome. There's an old song; something about a lady sweet and...kind." The Venerable Betty expects us to be geniuses, I expect, and know to what he was referring. I offer the rest of the song which is from Thomas Ford's Music of Sundry Kinds:

There is a lady sweet and kind,
Was never a face so pleased my mind;
I did but see her passing by,
And yet, I'll love her till I die.

Her gesture, motion, and her smiles,
Her wit, her voice my heart beguiles,
Beguiles my heart, I know not why,
And yet, I'll love her till I die.

Cupid is winged and he doth range,
Her country, so, my love doth change;
But change she earth, or change she sky,
Yet, I will love her till I die.

Well that just about sums up The Man's feelings about his dear Miss Brown. You love him too, right?

Before you can say boo to a goose, Augusta is off to Holland for her holiday with two great-aunts. She's a quarter Dutch and speaks a fluent if verb-mangled tongue. While there she meets your standard-issue Dutch fink/fashion photographer Piet who tells her that she's too short for a midi-length dress. Okay, that's it, buster. Gloves are off. The Union Jack didn't come to fly over half the known world by taking petty jabs from fishy Dutchmen lying down.
"How dare you tell me what to wear and--and criticize my legs? Keep your shallow-brained remarks for the bird-witted creatures you purport to photograph."
"Perhaps you don't know that I have a very good knowledge of English?" he queried stiffly.
"Why I counted on that."
I fully expected Dutch fink to show up later for retribution. Neels baddies have such a way of repeating on one. But evidently Augusta planted him a facer that kept him belly down on the canvas--consorting with snakes and other low-bellied vermin in his natural milieu. Hm. I pity the fool.
One of the aunts has an angina attack in the middle of the night and Augusta rushes to call the doctor. Hey, but what about The Man? If a doctor shows up he'll be bound to steal Augusta's heart and upset the balance of the Force! The Karmic wheel solves that knotty problem by making The Doctor and The Man one and the same (Remarkable Fate!). Showing no surprise that it is Augusta who answers the door, Doctor Constantijn van Lindemann (33 and with a brother named Huib--please get me a Dutch pronunciation guide for this name! I'm reading it 'Heeb'.) calmly tells her that he recognized her the moment he heard her. I should know your voice anywhere... Hot Dutch Doctor to Fuddled Brit Girl translation:
Darling, the solicitors have been notified and will be bringing the marriage settlement papers over in the morning.
The rest of Holland is just awesome--chock-a-block with his endearments to her. (And one of the best kisses ever.) But she is still wary of him. See, her brother and family still call her Roly (Brit for 'tubby') and then there's the Chanel No5 malodorousness of Susan Belsize. What does she mean to him? Why won't he discuss it? Has he got a homeless graveyard in the backyard?
So she hangs onto a shred of her dignity and doesn't tell him where she lives. Well, she does say something like, "In the shadow of the everlasting hills, by the banks of a mighty river..."
Back in England she goes back to work but manages to get a weekend off. Remember, her last vacation was a barrel of laughs--what with the angina and the sleeplessness and the Dutch fink. This one's got a quarry accident! Little Timmy, whose mother lets her six children (I expect a comment Betty Debbie) roam the countryside at will, has fallen into the abandoned quarry and Augusta slides down the shingles to the rescue, rips her petticoats (so much more romantic than cotton slacks and top) and shouts for rescue.
What to her wondering eyes does appear...? Constantijn! How did he come to be there?
"I wrote asking [the doctor] if he knew of a vet by the name of Brown who lived on the Somerset-Dorset border and owned a donkey named Bottom."
And if you're not in love with him yet you're past praying for. But then it gets even better than that! He follows her the next day to a jumble sale. Again, too many wonderful details to pick just one. But if I had to narrow it down (skipping, most regretfully, the spot of snogging in the vicarage kitchen) I'll mention the truly hideous-sounding fairings that he must have tracked down and bought (from the cold, dead hands of just the kind of parsimonious elderlies to frequent jumbles and buy ugly fairings) just because she'd off-handedly said she wanted them.
So we've got the second proof in as many days that he's paying scrupulous attention to everything she says (first the description of her home and then the knick-knacks). And now, the minor irritation of Susan Belsize erupts like a cold sore on a wedding day. Augusta is in love with Constantijn and someone--anyone--needs to explain the bubble-head taking up all the air in his life. But no one does.
Actually, that's not quite true. In a fit of misguided candor, Constantijn admits that she is his ward and that he had thought of marrying Susan about a year ago but it came to nothing...
Editorial Note: Girlfriend is pretty firm about needing to know about Cold Sore Susan but keeps getting headed off or, worse, snubbed. Of all the things to let fall about the highly decorative darling while you're wooing a once tubby sensible type this is not it.
But he not-quite saves things by calling her Roly and carroty and saying, "You know that I've fallen more than a little in love with you."--which phrase, no matter how nice, reminds me of Rocky Balboa proposing to Adrian (I was wondering if you wouldn't mind marryin' me.)
A hospital emergency disrupts her off-duty and when Constantijn collects her for tea the warden says, "He's yer young man, cos he said so." Now that's more like it.
She asks him again more particularly about Susan (which should clue him in to Susan's importance in Augusta's mind) and is told that he doesn't want to talk about it. (Well, make time, Buddy.) She tells him that she loves him (on a hammock--so put that cozy picture in your delighted brain) and is invited to Cold Sore Susan's 21st birthday party.
On the way back to London from a weekend at home, Constantijn proposes but she's trying desperately not to be disappointed at it's anti-climactic air. He did it in a half-filled restaurant! He didn't say he loved her! What does it all mean?
The pieces seem to fall into place with a sick little thud as she overhears an hysterical Susan tell Constantijn that she's in love too and hears Constantijn reply that he won't see 'this other girl' get hurt in any way.
That's the answer. It makes perfect sense. Roly (she has to think of herself as an unattractive alternative to Susan now) was just a diversion and Constantijn will feel duty-bound to marry her if she doesn't break it off. In a rage, Augusta fibs (poorly) about off-duty and free weekends. She must have time to think.
Constantijn is finally confronted with Augusta. Tears, heartache, recrimination! But he hardly says a word--just lets her get back into the car and drive off. It is up to Lady Belway and Mrs. Brown to sort out Augusta:
Cold Sore Susan was really Homewrecker Susan who wanted to steal Constantijn's best friend away from his sweet wife. Constantijn prevented it--but if a man can be captivated by a girl who might regularly don a white midi with a tapestry belt and T-strap lizard shoes (and handbag) then I give the marriage five years...tops.
Back Augusta goes to apologize and be kissed. A marriage is in the offing.

Rating: So totally a lashings of whipped cream that I don't know where to start. With the heroes' unabashed pursuit of his Darling Miss Brown? With The Venerable Neels particularly descriptive and delightful prose? With the quarry, torn clothing episode? With the nickname Roly?! I couldn't put a fifth of all the wonderfulness herein contained. Constantijn, unlike your more run-of-the-mill Neels hero, has zero problem letting everyone know that Miss Brown is the gal for him. The only part I don't care for is the very very end--I thought Augusta was justified in being in a rage and Constantijn has to let her sort it out herself? No helping? Thumbs down. But, then, if that was absolutely perfect then this novel would have earned itself right off the chart and we can't have that. Also, for reasons I can't figure out, I hate the name Augusta Brown. (Both fine without the other but together bug me.)

Food: Alkmaarse Jongens (a Dutch buscuit), Marquise Montmorency (a pudding that doesn't really float my boat), Mirabeau steak, lemon custard (and so help me you must try this, Betty Debbie sometime when I'm around) and a dry martini (since when does The Betty have heroines drink martinis?).

Fashion: Augusta's slacks (torn) and cotton shirt (also torn), a mid-length yellow lawn dress with long ballooning sleeves (that she wears for his proposal), a Terlenka pantsuit with a white tunic top, a blue and aubergine organza evening dress (that she wears to Susan's 21st)