At the End of the Day - 1985

Anyone familiar with the work of Betty Neels knows that she had a somewhat limited repertoire of plot lines. Her genius was more about filling in the little details.  At the End of the Day is a variation on a theme. It had some awesome moments and some great lines. Shall we see how we feel about it at the end of the day?

tick...tick ...tick.

Julia Mitchell, a ravishing fiery redhead of Junoesque proportions, has just turned thirty. The big three-oh.  She's nominally engaged to the slippery Nigel Longman.  Nigel is an up and coming doctor, with an up and coming job interview in Bristol. In the meantime, she's Sister for Women's Medical at a hospital in London. Sister Julia has a thorn in her side. Professor van der Wagema (41). Everyone knows they don't like each other.  He runs the gamut from tiresome to icy cold to bitingly sarcastic. I know what you're thinking: He's the hero? Julia doesn't have a good opinion of him, but then again, he barely registers on her radar. She doesn't know a thing about him, and what's more, she doesn't care. 

tick...tick...tick.

There must be some kind of trigger that gets the two antagonists thinking about each other - that trigger never gets revealed - but think about each other they do. Maybe Julia just needs to think about a vertebrate...and surprise, surprise, Professor van der Wagema has a fine backbone. Mighty fine. Even from the back he looked distinguished. Yeah, bum check. Her burgeoning interest in him just so happens to coincide with her dawning realization that the magic has gone out of her relationship with Nigel. Mind you, it's all baby steps at this point. In spite of working with Professor van der Wagema for over three years on the ward, she knows nothing about him. Is he married? Does he have children? Where does he live? None of these questions have ever flitted across her consciousness before. One of the questions is answered quite soon. He has an eleven year old son.  That must mean he's married. 

tick...tick...tick.

Julia  showers a little unused maternal instinct on a stray kitten. Nigel is off in Bristol and doesn't bother to call her with a status update. In order to find out if he got the job, Julia resorts to calling the Invertebrate's mother. Yes, her darling boy got the job. Julia shows way too much forbearance with Nigel. He is thrilled to get the job, but not keen on getting married anytime soon. Maybe next year. Julia is supposed to be satisfied with his less than thorough kissing.

tick...tick...tick.

If you haven't guessed by now, the sound that you're hearing is Julia's biological clock. Nigel figures they can live in the hospital-provided-flat and Julia can continue to work for a year or two (that's after waiting the better part of a year to get married)...Julia is not a nurse for nothing - she knows she doesn't have all that many childbearing years left. She reflects to herself that '30 is such a depressing age.'
 In order to fight off her depression, she decides to take a holiday back at Casa de Mitchell.  She can potter around, do a little horseback riding and think. Think about what? The depressing lack of commitment that she's getting from Nigel. He's proving impossible to pin down and have a serious discussion with. In fact, Julia wonders what exactly they have to talk about - beyond work?

Let's just get off the subject of Nigel, okay? He's really not worth the word count.

Remember when I said that Professor van der Wagema has a son? Young Nicholas is a pretty useful plot device. The Professor hires Mr. Mitchell to tutor the lad in Latin. It's a wonderful excuse for him to meet Julia's family.
Julia's mother is like a marital-status heat seeking missle. In less time than it takes to say 'lobster Newburg' - she manages to winkle out the fact that he has been widowed for eight years. Cha-ching! He's single. And happy to drive Julia back to London at the end of her weekend. For No Reason Whatsoever, Julia tarts herself up for the ride home...even wearing her Gucci shoes! I hope you dressed yourself to kill on my account...says he, and then he kisses her! An engaged woman (yes, she's still engaged)! Their relationship is quickly changing from adversarial to friendly.
Nicholas is more than happy to spend weekends at Casa de Mitchell. Julia goes home for another visit and the two go riding together. Papa van der Wagema rides up on his white charger hired horse and manages to get an invitation for the weekend. It's just a tiny step from spending the night to being on a first name basis. My name is Lauris. And now for some muddling.
Her: Nicholas needs a mother...
Him: He'll have one soon...

Yes, it's that hoary old chestnut: I'm In Love With You and Plan to Marry You, But Until Then You Can Just Assume I'm Engaged to Someone Else. Aargh. This will continue for the next 80 pages. Despite that, or perhaps because of it, Lauris is looming larger and larger in her thoughts.  Yes, that's the prelude to a Dawning Realization.
Lauris sees her distraught face in the morning and drags part of the truth from her - 'I can't marry Nigel'. He doesn't get to hear her confess her love for him yet, but you can bet he knows which way the Thames is flowing.  Lauris snatches the opportunity to offer Julia a ride to Bristol - so as to have it out with Nigel. Risky business that. Taking the girl you love to meet her fiancee - there's always the possibility that they'll make up. Nope. After an initial 'You're throwing ME over?', Nigel seems positively relieved to have dodged the matrimonial bullet. Very lowering to a girl, but Lauris is right there to get the post-game wrap-up. He invites himself to dinner at her flat and asks for all the gory details.
Now that Nigel is out of the way, let's start dating! If only it were so easy. Julia is firmly of the opinion that Lauris is engaged. She does go out with him a couple of times, but always under protest 'what will your fiancee think?' Lauris could seal the deal  PDQ if only he'd tell her that he loves her...not a mythical fiancee - but that's not how things roll in Neeldom.  There are formalities. First of all, Julia must have lunch at his house, meet his housekeeper and his dog Digby (whose name always reminds me of an old article about the 'redshirt' characters in Star Trek - the author named the redshirts 'Digby and Johnson'...but I digress). The Sad Tale of Nicky's Mother is told. She left them when Nicholas was little - and went to America only to die of viral pneumonia (as you do...).

Then a little excitement is in order. Julia feels the need to walk home from Lauris' place.

No, that's too far.

Okay, I'll take the bus from the British Museum.

Fine, but I'll walk you there.

It's a darn good thing he does, because they get caught in a demonstration. Lauris pushes Julia up against a wall and shelters her with...um...himself. Excuse me while I grab a fan.  Wow, did it just get a little hot in here? Not only does he protect her with...um...himself, he then proceeds to Kiss Her Fiercely. 

Christmas is coming and Lauris has invited Julia's two younger brothers to go to Holland for a few days with him and Nicholas.  Would Julia please come too? Julia is only too happy (it will give her a chance to check out the fictional fiancee). But first she has to get a streaming head cold. Lauris comes up to her flatlet and bullies her into getting better. I'll have you up on your feet if it kills me. He makes tea, heats up soup, feeds Wellington (the kitten) and offers to wash her hair. Awww. His motive (besides being in love) has got to be the trip to Holland.

Lauris picks up all three boys, then stops by to get Julia. Night ferry from Harwich, he's got a lovely small castle with pepperpot towers, this is my mother, sleep well...

Julia gets up early in the morning to go exploring and is proposed to for her pains.

Him: You love me now, don't you?

Her:Yes, but what about your finacee?

Him: I never said I had a fiancee...I merely stated my intention of getting married. Nicholas knows I want to marry you, so does my mother, so does your mother.  You're the only one who didn't get it.

Proposal, kissing. The end.

Rating: This one was a mixed bag for me. Julia has dug herself into a very boring rut with Nigel. She's not getting any younger - and she's watching her dreams of a house in the country with 2.5 kids, a donkey, a pony, two dogs, a cat or two and a husband who loves her - slip slide away. Her dissatisfaction with Nigel isn't anything new in a Betty Neels, but it does ring true. She really does like him - but Nigel is unable/unwilling/too thick to see Julia as a  real woman who has needs and a biological clock that is running down. I didn't appreciate how long The Nigel Affair lingered on in the book (she doesn't officially dump him until page 114!!).  If you assume that the antagonistic feelings between Julia and Lauris at the beginning of the book are from suppressed desire, then his iciness and her statement "He's the most unfanciable man I know" (I♥Betty Neels)make more sense.  Betty Neels dealt with a somewhat similar plotline much more deftly in Heidelberg Wedding (published the year before this one). If I had one wish for this book, it would be that we knew more of what Lauris was thinking. Such as, when did he fall in love with her? Before she fell for him, that much is obvious...but when? The best I can give it is a Mince Pie.

Food: A whole meal with capitalization - salad Niçoise, lobster Newburg, soufflé Harliquin. Macaroni cheese, cheese sandwich and lager after the cinema, cress sandwiches, chocolate cake, smoked salmon with brown bread and butter, omelette Diplomate (more capitalization!), peaches poached in champagne,  mince pies, doughnuts, lobster soup, roast duck, syllabub with lashing of cream.
Fashion: The Professor wears slacks and a sport shirt (off duty), Julia wears old slacks and a disreputable sweater, an elderly corduroy skirt with a cotton sweater that had seen better days. She goes riding in slacks with an old out-at-elbows sweater and a bright scarf. When she 'dresses to kill', she wears a knitted jacket and skirt with a tucked silk blouse, all in grey, with her Gucci shoes.

Love Can Wait--1997

Love Can Wait is a boring title.  It just is. The memorable story is briefly obscured by the vanilla title and, just by way of freshening things up, I suggest forever-after thinking of this as Claudia Gets a Kiss-Off.  You're welcome.

...and a Cup of  'Blog about Betty whenever you want'...

Editorial Note: (Today, I begin with editorializing.) I am going to allow myself to succumb to the enormous temptation, since our heroine is a professional cook cum housekeeper, to shoehorn this review into one of those darling (cough*tacky*cough) recipes for a Happy Marriage that someone near and dear to you might have worked in embroidery as a wedding gift and which currently hangs in the guest bathroom (aesthetic purgatory) above the decorative towels with heavy beading.  
(Oh dear. When you speak of me, speak of me kindly...) 

Recipe for a Happy Marriage:

...a tall Cordon Bleu with generous curves...

Take One gorgeous Cordon Bleu cook.  For our purposes, a well-seasoned 27-year-old with generous curves and a predisposition to hard work is just right.  If you can find one with a sickly mother, crushing financial obligations, and a snobbish employer, then all the better.  (You may call her Kate.)

Gently fold in 14 stone of James Tait-Bouverie brand Rich English Paediatrician (35-year-old vintage).  This superior brand comes with an aloof nature, an aesthetic appreciation of curvy working-lasses, is wedded to his work and possessed of relations littered over the British countryside.

Dump in one Tiresome Aunt.  Though both class-conscious and penny-pinching, this is the glue that holds our dish together long enough to let it set.  Lady Cowder is to Kate and James what the movie Footloose is to Kevin Bacon and Sarah Jessica Parker--an unhappy if integral link in the chain that connects our star-ingredients.  (Of course I'm joking.  I love Footloose.)  

Claudia takes one too many cheap shots...

Add one Maraschino cherry.  The combination of sweetness and toxicity, coupled with its improbably scarlet color will add just the zest needed to make this dish a winner.  Since this ingredient, we'll name her Claudia, is highly reactive when combined with Cordon Bleu cooks, it may be necessary to chop it up into tiny bits (though that may not be enough to mollify La Cordon Bleu, as she would prefer 'strangling', 'dumping soup on' and putting a dead rat in her bed.)

Stir together with a Dash of Indifference and a Pinch of Attraction.  Any social occasion may serve to stir the pot, so to speak, but ones in which our heroine does all the cooking with little support and scant gratitude (Argh.  That Tiresome Aunt is getting lumpy again.  Beat it!) would work well. If your Rich English Paedetrician is not beginning to integrate with La Cordon Bleu, you might throw them together (like taffy).  I have always found the fjords of Norway very handy for this sort of thing.

Chill.  Ah, so you took my advice.  We're in Norway and though the consistency of La Cordon Bleu is curdling from too much overexposure to Tiresome Aunt (and her incessant bridge-playing and enforcement of segregated dining times), this mess can be mitigated by adding teaspoon-fulls of iced Brit Paeditrician.  

Car wreck?! BAM!

Knead the Dough (which is a euphemism for getting involved in a multiple-car car wreck in a tunnel (like a sausage extruder!) and suffering the outraged put-out-ed-ness of a disapproving employer). Through the violence of tossing about the dough, the material begins to yield results. ('He knew as he watched her smile that he was going to marry her.')

Throw in some Hard-boiled Eggs (Kate is mugged (those thugs!) and loses her savings (100 pounds!) just as she is on the point of delivering it to the bank which would have enabled her to set up her own 'cooked-meals service'.  (Cut her some slack.  She's a recipe ingredient.  She doesn't do math.) ) At that, the souffle has fallen flat.

Pour in Generous Amounts of Salt-Water, Mop up with British Superfine Wool  What's a crisis if it doesn't end in tears and a painfully avuncular embrace?

Cool the Pie on a the Window Sill of an Old Poppet  All that sturm and drang is upsetting your mixture.  Time to move it.  Find another aunt with deeper pockets.  Persuade her to employ La Cordon Bleu.

Shake it Up (Throw a party, introduce a future mother-in-law into the mixture and have Kate's mum develop appendicitis--trust me, the meal will go down as smooth as silk if you don't skip this step.

Pick out the Bits of Maraschino Cherry and Toss them in the Garbage Disposal  ('Yes, I got your message, Claudia.  I'm afraid that it is a waste of time including me in your social activities--indeed, in any part of your life.  I feel that our lives are hardly compatible.  I'm sure you must agree.')

Give Yourself a High-Five.

 James proposes: ''Shall we throw Claudia out of the window?'

Take Your Picnic Lunch to the Bosham Cottage.  Corner your prey and pounce. 

Turn off the oven, clean up the kitchen and await future pledges of mutual affection.

The End

Rating:  This book is one of those meals that sticks to your ribs--hearty but plain fare.  Kate the Cook makes some memorable dishes, treats her nemesi to some wicked-hot mental violence and suffers some enormous reversals of fortune--though some of that is due to pride. When she loses her money we get a chance at some real pathos--it's almost heart-rending to be along with her through all the crap she has to put up with from Lady Cowder, only to have it be all for nothing.
James is no slouch himself.  Like a casserole, he took a little time to prepare but baked up to cheesy goodness once placed within the Oven of Love.  (Okay, I'm done now.)  I do wish that the first half of the book had more movement down the field (It's all a lot of 'Oh, nice legs.  I'm not interested but I'll help her anyway and forget her as soon as I can.') but once he decides to marry her it all gets way more interesting.
I really enjoy the bits with Claudia and Lady Cowder--they're a couple of nasty serpents in the garden. When things with James and Kate are a little dull, you can always count on his aunt making a crack about the dubious table manners of her housekeeper to keep it interesting.  Though why The Great Betty kept insisting that Lady Cowder wasn't intentionally unkind is a sort of backhanded compliment as the alternative is to think that she is socially moronic...
Mince pie. 


Though their implied conjugal relations were satisfactory,
 Kate kept telling him not to call her The Naked Chef...


Food:  Kate is a cook so there is a lot.  Chocolate cake, meringue nests with strawberries, roast duck with sauce Bigrade, raspberry sorbet, strawberry cheesecake, madiera cake, strawberry tartlets, lamb sweetbreads (a dish with the most mis-leading name in the history of food as they are neither sweet, nor bread, but rather the thymus glands of veal, young beef, lamb and pork), ham on the bone, whole salmon, toad-in-the-hole and Kate knocks back some cooking sherry (!! Isn't that supposed to be salty?) when life gets her down.


Fashion: Precious little clothes to talk about.  Her housekeeper's uniform is a white blouse paired with a navy skirt, she wears a pale green jersey, wears a mole-colored jersey all over Norway and dons a jersey dress the shade of warm mushrooms (which, despite my ambivalence to mushrooms, sounds yummy).

A Star Looks Down - 1975

Once upon a time, in the kingdom of Langton Magna, there was an enchanted princess. 

Her name was Elizabeth Partridge.  Elizabeth Partridge of Chifney House.  At her christening an evil fairy cursed her with Plainness of Face - the curse was quite effective, but it couldn't diminish her violet eyes and titian hair.  The curse could only be broken by True Love. 

After the death of their father, the king, her evil stepbrother Philip assumed the throne and exiled Princess Beth and Prince William, her brother, to the Dark Abyss of London.

Prince William is left just enough money to finish uni and take a medical course. Beth is left much less...she becomes a nurse to supplement the tiny annuity that was given her.  The two exiles share digs which means that Beth usually covers the rent and the groceries and the cooking and the cleaning.  Prince William is diligent in his studies, but often borrows a fiver from the princess for dates or new clothes - never realizing that the plain little princess might want a new pair of court shoes herself - after all, she is quite plain.

On her way to the hospital one day, Princess Beth runs into a mighty wizard from a far country.  A mighty wizard with a keen sense of sight - he can see past The Curse of Plainness. The wizard is not only powerful, he's also hot.

My favorite wizard.

The wizard has a sister who is under a spell...a cruel spell that necessitates an appendectomy. Mevrouw Thorbecke (wizard's sister) needs an indentured servant to take care of her 4 little horrors.  Prince William has a man-crush on the wizard, and blithely volunteers Princess Beth. He sees no problem with her forgoing her upcoming vacation to be a temporary nanny. What does she need with a vacation anyway? It's not like she was going to have any fun.  Much better for Beth to work and make a bit of lolly(I♥Betty) that  she can share with him. Beth is tempted to turn down the job, but Prince William is right, Beth really didn't have anything better in the offing...and there is that hot, hot wizard.

The wizard stops by the digs and is treated to a meal of macaroni cheese and orange squash while giving Beth a description of the children, ages 5 to 10.  Mind you, he's a bit misleading - Beth has no idea she'll soon be minding The Bad Seed. More on that later.

Princess Beth takes care of the children for a week in Darkest London.  They all get along just fine, and Beth enjoys the late night chats with the wizard.  He's really a bit of a poppet.  On her morning off, she makes a bee-line back to her shared digs, where she spends the morning cooking and cleaning.  During one of those late night chats, Princess Beth tells the wizard about her childhood home, her old pony Sugar and her horse named Beauty.  They were left in the hands of the evil stepbro, Philip.  Hmmm.
Princess Beth's leave is extended (she has been 'lent' by the hospital) so she can spend a couple of weeks in the country!

Thank you for saving my horse.
You really are a wizard!

The wizard, whose real name is Professor Alexander van Zeust, takes the whole party - Mevrouw Thorbecke, the 4 little horrors and Princess Elizabeth down to his country home.Three of the children are just fine - but the eldest is another story.  More on that later...yes, yes, we'll get to it soon.

The wizard has a surprise for her...he takes her for a ride one day - right up to the palace of the evil stepbro. The wizard casts a spell or two and manages to flatten Philip and save Sugar and Beauty from the knackers. Professor Wizard is some kind of wonderful.  He even invites Beth to go riding with him - of course she knows how- what with being a princess and all.  He also tells Beth what his idea of a good marriage is.

Him: I want fun, fights and a love to toss me to the skies.

Her: You should marry a beautiful princess who wears beautiful gowns and runs your wizard castle beautifully and is a  super hostess too.

Him: That sounds like a dead bore to me.

Mevrouw Thorbecke has recovered enough to go for a ride with Professor Wizard, Princess Beth and the kids.  A journey to Cheddar Gorge!  The mevrouw stays in the car while Beth and the Wiz shepherd the kiddies around. It's all good fun...right up until the Wiz leaves Beth alone with the kids in the canyon (so as to take the mevrouw out for tea). The Bad Seed scampers up the cliff despite repeated entreaties not to. Princess Beth has to climb up and join him. Of course she can't get him down...but the Wizard comes to the rescue. Up until this point, Dirk (The Bad Seed) has been a fairly normal boy of 10 - but he comes out of the Wizard's study a changed boy.  From here on out he is sullen, moody, full of rage, dislike and contempt.  He's loaded his emotional M-16 and pointed it directly at Princess Beth.  It's too bad she doesn't own a bullet-proof vest.

Because Mevrouw Thorbecke suffers from SSoRDD Syndrome (spoiled sister of rich Dutch doctor), she needs Princess Beth for MORE time (so far Mevrouw is at least 3 weeks post-op)...so arrangements are made for Princess Beth to accompany the troupe to Holland. A quick stop off in London - just enough time to cash her cheque, cook and clean for Prince William and leave him part of her hard earned wages (grrr...), and they're off to the continent and the Thorbecke's hometown of Willemstad! Not before a little foreshadowing in the form of an enigmatic incantation from the Wizard, "I'm waiting...."

Willemstad is a lovely little town, right smack on the waterfront. This is important.

Princess Beth has an incredible Dawning Realization.  Instead of  the usual "I love him and now must hide my love away"....she says the 'L' word right out loud! "Oh, my goodness, I love you...sorry.  I promise I won't bother you a bit - I'm quite sensible." It seems like her curse is broken.  Or is it?  She has accidentally spilled her emotional beans. In spite of all the clues we have that the Wizard is in love with Princess Beth, he fumbles the ball here.  Epic Fail!  She has declared her love and pretty much laid bare her soul, but for whatever unfathomable reason, Alexander the Wizard doesn't bother to seal the deal right then and there.

Her: No...no harm done.  I may not have ever been in love before, but I promise not to moon around.  You're so hot and rich, I'm sure you can forget all about me with anyone you fancy - all you need do is lift a finger and they'll come running.
Him: I am not in the habit of chatting up the birds.
Her: Let's just forget this conversation.
Him: I have a retentive memory.
Sure, it sounds okay, and I'm a big fan of Beth right now - she isn't pretending that she's not in love - and she's woman enough to say it.  I am irritated with the all-knowing all-seeing Wizard.  As far as I can tell, the only reason he doesn't put a ring on it, is that she doesn't think she's his ideal wife.  Instead of words of encouragement, Beth is packed off to bed.

Lovely House Tour O' Love...with some even lovelier snogging.  Princess Beth kisses right back, 'may as well be hanged for a sheep as for a lamb', thinks she. 'Call me Alexander', says he. He dances around the subject of marriage...no outright declarations...no, she's fobbed off with 'Next Time we'll talk about love'. (grrrrr...teeth grinding).  You just know that something will happen...Alexander was tempting the fates when he left her hanging like that. 

The Revenge of Moby Moody Dirk!!!

Ten year old thug Dirk decides it's time to make Princess Beth pay for her alleged crimes.  He nicks a small sailboat and bundles his other three siblings in - they will all go sailing! Beth sees them and tries to stop the young felon.  Since he won't stop, she sheds her shoes and swims out to the boat.  Now they're all in trouble.  Bad weather is coming, Moody Dirk is all talk and no trousers - he doesn't know how to sail.  Princess Beth may ride horses but she's hopeless at water sports...the other three kids are just ballast. By dint of working together, Moody Dirk and Princess Beth (mostly Beth) manage to finally make it into a harbour and off the boat.  Alexander is in a white hot rage, Mevrouw Thorbecke has roused herself enough to be mildly put out that Beth would endanger her children.  Yes, Moody Dirk has managed to shift the blame to Princess Beth.  Everyone, it seems, is mad at Princess Beth and ready to blame her for the entire nautical debacle.  She's suddenly tired of the whole business, so instead of explaining, she leaves.  Leaves Holland and takes the next boat to England. It seems she's back under the curse again.

Moody Dirk confesses his sins to Uncle...the little toe rag finally feels remorse for his transgressions. Alexander catches up with Beth at the train station in London. A final few kisses to break the curse, proposal of marriage...

...and they lived happily ever after.  

Epilogue: Beth kept a wary eye on their children...she had to be sure that the taint of Moody Dirk was not hereditary. All the right fairy godmothers were invited to every christening to help ward off the whiff of Bad Seed-i-ness.

Fancy waistcoat?
Check.

Rating: Gosh, there's a lot of fun here, but it's a real curate's egg for me. I have a tough time with Beth being such a doormat for Brother William.  I don't mind that they share digs, I don't mind that she does the lion's share of the cooking and cleaning (some people are just like that).  What I do mind is that she constantly sacrifices her wages so that Willy Boy can go on dates and wear fancy waistcoats - that behaviour just strikes me as beyond the pale. I also have a problem with the dear professor.  He works just fine for me right up until the point Beth has her dawning realization and blurts out her love.  She's adorable...really, really adorable - but he's a bit of a prat.  Although it's never stated, it's pretty obvious that he fell in love at first sight, and now that the girl confesses her love...he fumbles the ball. Moody Dirk leaves a bad taste in my mouth.  I don't have a problem with his first foray into disobedience - it really only affects himself...and it is something a naughty ten year old would do (thus speaks a woman who has had 5 ten year old boys of her own, and dozens of 10 year old cub scouts.  I know what I'm talking about here).  The entire scene where he takes his younger siblings (including 5 year old sister) on a boat ride is frankly disturbing. That and the fact that he would hold a grudge and act on it. Ew.  I really can't do better than Mince Pies on this one, but if someone can give me a really good reason for a) giving money to brother William for dates and fancy waistcoats and b) why Alexander doesn't get off the dime sooner, I'll be willing to reconsider.

Food: Sandwiches and yoghurt from the canteen, macaroni cheese and orange squash, anchovy toast, rich chocolate cake, beef olives Provenḉal (which strangely enough, don't have any olives...), apple pie and cream at least twice, pâté of cod's roe, Sole bonne Femme, bread and butter pudding, ratatouille, fillet steak, cake batter licked from the bowl.

Fashion: Brown tweed skirt and sweater, William has a taste for wildly expensive waistcoats, suede jerkin, leaf green jersey dress, Irish tweed suit, uninteresting brown woollen dress, deep mauve jersey dress, Alexander wears proper riding gear while Beth wears slacks and borrowed wellies, quaker grey jersey dress.

A Winter Love Story - 1998

It's never a good sign when even after reading a book several times (including THIS WEEK), you have to refer to your notes for the title. A Winter Love Story is not the most memorable book written by Betty Neels...but is it because of a lackluster title? Let's find out:

Claudia Ramsey (age 27) is a stunner. Her copper-haired beauty shines through a succession of deplorable outfits that feature such fashion statements as oversized pinnys and dirty sacks tied around the mid-section. As the story opens, she is to be found dusting Uncle Colonel William Ramsey's library. Or is the Colonel Uncle? At any rate, The Colonel is getting ready to bite the big one, but before he does, Dr. Willis has called in a specialist. Mr. Tait-Bullen (hereafter to be referred to as Mr. T-B(age 39)) is an imminent cardiologist - he recommends a triple by-pass, but The Colonel doesn't hold with such nonsense. He'd rather shuffle off this mortal coil than go under the knife. So he does. But not before Claudia has had a couple of opportunities to meet Mr. T-B. It's fortunate for Claudia that she has plenty of natural beauty - Mr. T-B only gets to see her in her eccentric work clothes, and he still can see her gorgeousness - even when she's filthy with dust or grimy with dirt from the greenhouse.

The Colonel announces to Claudia and her mum that he will be dying in a day or two, and would they please call Mr. T-B, he'd like to see him one more time. Mr. T-B drives down from London and chats with The Colonel about...lilies. The Colonel was spot on in his self-diagnosis - he assumes room temperature that very evening.

zzzz...oh yeah, A Winter Love Story. Right. Okay. Umm. The Colonel has left generous bequests to the family retainers. Claudia and her mum get 'shares' - which turn out to be worthless. The house is entailed to a distant relative. The Heir, Mr. Ramsey, is obnoxious (you were expecting different?)...he is not willing to share any of his inheritance with Claudia and Mrs. Ramsey - although he does give them orders: Fire the old Butler! Air the beds! Don't steal the silver! Claudia and the gang wisely ignore him...all the staff find new jobs, Mrs. Ramsey gets engaged to Dr. Willis and Claudia goes off to her fabulous new job in Southampton!

The Job at Ye Olde Geriatric Hospital is not exactly cushy. "It's not the cool hand on the brow kind of work - more like a charwoman - plastic pinnys and mops and buckets." Claudia, being Claudia, puts a brave face on it and cheerfully gets on with it. She does have a day off after a week which happily coincides with her mother's wedding. Mr. T-B has cadged an invite to the wedding...he'd like to see what's up with the beautiful Claudia. He neatly arranges to drive Claudia back to Southampton and sets up a date for her next afternoon off.

The date is pretty successful...Claudia eats with an appetite sharpened by the rather stodgy hospital food she's been stuck with. The after dinner conversation is a little one sided - Claudia wonders if she's boring Mr. T-B. 'I don't think that you will ever bore me...would you like to go out again?'

A few days later, Mr. T-B drops by Ye Olde Geriatric Hospital unannounced and asks our girl if she's happy where she's at. Claudia answers him honestly that working at geriatric hospital is absolutely grim. Mr. T-B offers an alternative. 'Will you marry me? I need a wife and you would have freedom, we laugh at the same jokes.' 'Gosh, that sounds so sensible. Just one thing...I don't know your name...'

Thomas(yes Mr. T-B shall now be called Thomas) tells Claudia that they can get married by special license just as soon as she works through her one week notice.

After the wedding Thomas takes Claudia to his home in London. It's beautiful, natch, but he really only has an aging Tony Danza, er...Cork, to cook and clean - with a little help from Mrs. Rumbold, the daily. Cork may be happy for his boss, but that doesn't mean he's ripe for the picking. Claudia recognizes his type and begins her campaign to win him over. She's quite practiced in the art of getting aging butler types to eat out of her hands.

Married life agrees with Claudia and Thomas. They get along just fine - he even goes along on the Deluxe Connubial Shopping Extravaganza and agrees to adopt a stray puppy that Claudia has rescued from the park.

With things going so well, what should happen next but a visit from The Woman Scorned. Honor Thompson envies Claudia and goes out of her way to be nasty. For any other new bride except Claudia this would be either a wake-up call or tear-inducing. Not Claudia...she takes all the drama out of Honor's snide comments and she's quite cheerful when Honor leaves. This gives us the best bit of the book: 'I hope you're grateful that I married you. She would have eaten you alive in a couple of years.'
Thomas is suitably taken aback at the lack of reproachful comment, coolness or sulkiness. He's married to a treasure. Even Cork is starting to appreciate her.

The hospital Christmas ball is a fine opportunity to re-gift Grandmother's pearls. Claudia is a bit disappointed that Thomas isn't giving her something he picked out, but her disappointment is short-lived. She's also a teeny tiny bit jealous of all the pretty nurses that Thomas dances with at the ball. She is mollified to learn that they are courtesy dances and that it's a tradition - not his idea. Claudia is beginning to be a little unsettled. Just a little. It's starting to seem like Thomas doesn't really need her companionship - he's spending more and more time either at work or in his study. He does take time off for a day trip with Claudia wherein they stop in a village and do a spot of house hunting, and by spot I do mean spot. They look at one cottage, Thomas realizes he's in love(with Claudia, and presumably the house) and makes an offer on it. No inspections for leaky drains or insects, nope, they look at ONE house and they're done. That's fiction for you. The real icing on the cake is when Claudia throws herself at Thomas and gives him a great big thank-you kiss. The End. I wish. Darn those page counts. It's only page 124 - there are SIXTY more pages to go, in which Not. Much. Happens.

Let's sum up:

• Christmas at the in-laws. It's lovely. A pretty snazzy kiss wherein Thomas nearly loses his control and Claudia enjoys it. It's page 142. That would have been a nice place to end.
• Contretemps in Hyde Park...while walking Harvey the Ugly Puppy, Claudia is threatened by rowdy youths. Thomas is Harsh, but then apologizes and tell her that he was angry because he was scared for her.
• Thomas gives Claudia a New Years Kiss. It stirs something in Claudia...His Sleeping Beauty was beginning to wake up. Frankly, another kiss or two and he could have sealed the deal. On page 159.
• It's time for a little muddle. Thomas is being a bit distant. If Claudia had read her Betty Neels, she would know that this IS A SIGN THAT HE'S IN LOVE. Alas, she hasn't.
• Thomas has to go on a trip to Leeds. When dropping off Claudia at her mum's, he JERKS BACK from her. Tears are fought off. Muddle, muddle, muddle.
• The Woman Scorned, Take Two. Honor implies that Thomas takes his sexy secretary on trips with him...and not just to take notes, if you get what I mean wink wink.
• Claudia calls his office and finds out that the secretary is indeed out of town. Which leads her to say "I hate him!", which leads to her realizing that she doesn't hate him at all, she loves him. Dang. There goes their open and honest communication. Because she'll have to hide her love away.
• Thomas returns early from his trip because he could tell from her telephone voice that something is wrong. Claudia makes a hash of explaining...Thomas might as well be Dutch - with all the icy anger in his eyes. He throws down a gauntlet...Claudia had better decide if she trusts him and if she is unhappy in their marriage. (Worst part of the book for me!)
• Claudia is horribly unhappy - and instead of having Thomas there to talk to about it, he's hiding out at work. She has Cork bring the Mini around and she drives through London traffic...and down to the cottage in Child Okeford.
• Thomas calls home, Cork is worried about the missus. Thomas races to Child Okeford to find her asleep on a kitchen chair.
• Muddles are cleared up, snogging engaged in. The end. For real this time.
  

Rating: Beautiful Woman Marries Rich Doctor!! News at Eleven!! Hmm...for the most part I found this book charming, but unfortunately it's rather forgettable, and really, that title doesn't help it a bit. It would have best been served by a handy application of a spanner - to tighten up the sagging prose - and then a hacksaw taken to the last 40 or 50 pages (or 60) . The thing I like best is how open and honest AND friendly the two protagonists are to each other - before they fall in love. Claudia is charmingly matter-of-fact and forthright - she readily apologizes when she makes a gaffe. When life throws her lemons, she makes lemonade. Thomas is friendly and kind and pleased with himself for marrying such a beautiful woman who is perfectly suited to his life. It takes AGES for the two of them to realize they are in love - (him on page 122, her on page 171) and they have a tough time making the transition from open and honest 'just friends'...which is really too bad - all it would have taken is a couple of satisfying snogs to break the ice (let that be a lesson to you...)...even after 30 years of marriage, I find a few satisfying snogs can clear the air better than an hour of discussion. TMI? After much deliberation I'm going to give this a boeuf en croute...no, wait...treacle tart...um...mince pies? Let's leave it at that, mince pies. It's not that it's a bad book, it's just that La Neels has done the same story many times and done it better. I do have this book review to thank for my now clean house...I spent lots of time avoiding writing (because I wasn't inspired at all) and doing other productive things like moving furniture and doing laundry.
Food: crab ravioli with ginger, breast of duck potato straws(twice), Brussel sprouts (at least twice), pear tatin with cinnamon ice cream, individual cheese soufflés, salmon en croûte, watercress salad, iced fruit cake with silver leaves, game soup, roast pheasant, chocolate pudding, turkey, braised celery (I just cannot make that sound good in my head), cranberry sauce, flaming Christmas pudding (forget it, I'm NOT making it!), smoked salmon, ham on the bone, stuffed eggs (are these the same as devilled eggs?), chicken pie, lamb chops, apple pie.

Fashion: She doesn't get to wear anything nice until her mother's wedding...before that she is usually to be found in working clothes...hair covered by a duster secured by a piece of string, a large print pinny several sizes too large, an old sack wrapped around her and topped with a jacket that is colourless with age, at the geriatric hospital she wears mud-brown dresses with a plastic pinny. At mum's wedding she wears a grey suit that's out of date with a grey beret. Her wedding outfit is a plainly cut dress and jacket of misty blue wool with grey velvet collar and cuffs. She is treated to the Deluxe Connubial Shopping Extravaganza at Harrod's and Harvey Nichols.

Judith--1982

Cover art--let's do this thing. Three widely-spaced buttons are hanging nonchalantly undone (don't you just hate how silk does that?!) and still no hint of cleavage. Nicely played, Harlequin, nicely played...

I'm of a mind to do this review a little differently, so let's to it:

Judith Golightly is in a rut as the senior night sister in charge of the Surgical Wing (which I think is the highest position of any Neels heroine). She is as stacked as the Roman Coliseum and is constantly being pestered by Nigel (who acts like his name sounds) to marry him. But she hasn't made it to the ripe age of 27 without learning to spot a poor marriage risk from twenty paces. If only something (measles, private patients and a hot, hot historian, perhaps?) would happen to push her onto new byways...Judith is resourceful and honest with herself ('She made no bones about being in love with Charles; she was, and that was an end to it.') and, as far as Charles is concerned, I won't pretend I'm not pleased that she's the medical expert in the room.


Charles Cresswell, eminent historian of 12th-century England, is one of the most unusual heroes in Neels-dom. He is absent-minded and, if given the chance, will forget birthdays and anniversaries and the name of their first-born with regularity. He's a bit of an engineer, personality-wise (no harm meant to engineers!)--he loves to be pedantic and technical and is missing that crucial social awareness gene that tells him he's being horribly rude. It isn't this that creates the tension, however, it is more that he's become a hermit due to a Youthful Disappointment (which must be written in caps and kept bright in the pages of his memory along with sachets of pressed violets and a lock of hair). Judith bowls him over with her brick house and, though she terrifies him and he's unwilling to like her, he's always been a keen student of architecture...

Uncle Tom lives near Charles in Cumbria and asks Judith to come housekeep for him since all she's doing on her month-long vacation is recover from the measles, conjunctivitis and broncho-pneumonia anyway. (Koplick's spots gone? Tote that barge! Lift that bale!) He's a bit of a matchmaker and becomes certain that Judith is the right girl for Charles when he notices that Charles, not acting in his usual manner with women (offhand, circumspect, polite and uninterested), is rubbing Judith up the wrong way every time they meet!

Eileen Hunt is on the make for the historian. Her phone call (late in the book) makes Judith cancel her engagement to Charles but Judith ought to have known better. What sort of trouble could a woman be who signed her picture (luridly gracing Charles' desk) 'Always Yours'--showing a staggeringly massive lack of imagination? She probably dots her 'I's with little hearts. Eileen can be flicked away like the dust mote she is.

Lady Cresswell is dying--slowly but surely. Her leukemia diagnosis at the mid-point of the book gives Judith the little nudge she needs to leave her prestigious hospital job (and Nigel) to nurse the old woman exclusively. They spend some lovely time in Cumbria at Charles' house (where he does her best to avoid her) and then hie to the Algarve for some retail therapy. Seriously, Lady Cresswell's final years (she does have a few left) will be spent playing backgammon, carefully applying makeup, shopping for nonsense and praying that someone (Judith) will yank her son out of the 12th century and give her grandbabies!

Nigel Bloom is horrible. Shall I quote the skunk? 'If you married me, of course, you could work a day shift or even do part-time. [Housewife?] That would be silly. You're a good nurse and as strong as a horse, and the extra money would be useful. Once I could get a consultant's post you'd have to stop, of course, it would never do to have you working.' He sort of even had me until the bit about being a consultant's wife. Sure, Charles will forget Judith exists from time to time but when he remembers...boy howdy. Nigel wouldn't even give her that.

Rating: I liked it better than I remembered--the principles had a little Beatrice/Benedick thing going on. My only issue is that there was not quite enough delightful sparkle in their verbal sparring to make it entirely in good fun nor did it have quite the poignancy of, say, The Hasty Marriage or The Secret Pool necessary to explain all that antipathy.
Still, Charles does make a fun fortress to lay siege to and Judith is an engaging crusader. All the supporting cast are adorable and unabashedly matchmaking. Lady Cresswell will need some careful nursing (not in their home but near it) and I actually like that Judith will have something to do after she's married and Charles goes back to shushing her.
The last few pages are magnificent.
I'll give this a Treacle Tart that leans towards Mince Pies.

Food: Judith makes a good beef sandwich. She has coffee and a squashy cream cake to spite Charles. She travels in a butcher's van with Cumberland sausage and pig trotters. Also, we find salmon, Saddle of Lamb, trifle, iced melon, grilled sole, scrambled eggs, thin toast, creamed potato, tomato salad, caramel custard, swordfish, almond and honey tart, and Mountain Rose pudding.

Fashion: Denim skirt and blouse, blue silk shirtwaister, Laura Ashley blouse, thick silk skirt, wispy sandals, a denim slacks and T-shirt (that does not dim her beauty but this is 1982 and those are Mom-jeans, dollars to donuts), cotton knitted dress, low-heeled worthy walking shoes, a brilliant blue bikini (that he takes no notice of), and a handkerchief lawn dress in blue. Charles wears a dressing gown of 'subdued magnificence'.

A Little Moonlight - 1991

If you like stories that feature selfish-to-the-bone widows and enabling daughters, A Little Moonlight is just the ticket. It's just not my ticket. I do like the cover art, in spite of the fact that the doctor looks like he must be at least 45 years old...and yet he's described as being 35ish in the story.

The first few pages are delightful. Serena Proudfoot is a 25 year old steno/typist. She's just been assigned to work for Dr. ter Feulen. Serena is trying to decipher his poor penmanship coupled with medical terminology. As she talks to herself, he sneaks up behind her and asks why he hasn't seen her before, and where, oh where is Miss Payne? Serena is unruffled - Miss Payne is off sick with influenza, and perhaps a touch of overwork, if the pile of work is any indication...Introductions are bandied about...Serena has heard of Dr. ter Feulen...'you're a Dutch baron as well...'she's graciously prepared to forgive him for that. Editor's Note: This is a pretty common mind-set in Neeldom- that foreigners need to be forgiven for high birth. Unfortunately, except for a grandfather who was an earl, The Great Betty doesn't give us hereditary English royalty. All of her "sirs" seem to have been knighted for service to queen and country...but I digress....
Serena finishes up the typing and takes the offending documents down to the consultant's room... to find Dr. ter Feulen snoring without any loss of dignity. It's been a long day, and now the joys of queueing for the bus and riding home. Home to Mum the Martyr. Who is cosied up to the fire reading. Mum the Martyr reproaches Serena for getting home late, she's feeling peckish and now wants Serena to make dinner, tote that barge, lift that bale. Mum the Martyr is suffering from nerves. Of course this is all a cover for her real job as an assassin.
Mum the Martyr is ghastly. Really and truly ghastly. She has spent her life dropping anvils on Serena's hopes, dreams and self-confidence. With her tinkling laugh, her charming smiles, and her self-deprecating ways she has elegantly stabbed Serena in both kidneys and her liver. I wouldn't mind that so much, but I wish Serena had at least some sense of self-preservation. It's like she's got a sign on her back that says "Shoot Me". More on that later, but in the meantime, let's get on with the story.
Miss Payne decides to retire, Serena is offered her job on the grounds that she is the nearest thing to Miss Payne that Dr. ter Feulen has found. Great. Just what a girl wants to hear - that she is unobtrusive and non-distracting. She's willing to take the job, but then Dr. ter Hotty informs her that they will be heading off to Holland for a few weeks. Screech!! Serena is not sure she can leave her poor parent - Mum the Martyr.
Him: She is ill?
Her: No...just delicate. She suffers from nerves and finds it hard to do things.
Him: Things like housework and shopping?
Her: Yes.
He sighed gently. Selfish widows with loving daughters were still only too common...Serena deserves more in life. And so it begins. Dr. ter Hotty tells her that mummy dearest can come with.
Serena dreads telling mum, but when she gets home, it's only to find that Dr. ter Feulen has beat her to the punch and smoothed the way. Mum the Martyr is excited about the trip and already planning her new and improved wardrobe. It will be such fun. Maybe she'll meet a man (that's mum talking, not Serena). She'll also have many more opportunities for target practice on Serena.
Traveling with Mum the Martyr is trying at best...she complains the entire time while Serena does all the heavy lifting. She finally shuts up when the chauffeur driven car shows up. She doesn't have any objection to being driven around town in a Jaguar. She does object to the boarding house that Dr. ter Feulen has put them up at, but she soon changes her tune. Her new tune is Mr. Arthur Harding. Mum the Martyr now spends all her waking moments with Mr. Harding. Let's just forget about her for the time being, just like she forgets about Serena.
Dr. ter Feulen finds out about her lack of parental company for the weekend and shows up at the boarding house in tweeds. Tweeds that make him look even hotter than usual. One fine day is had by both. Dr. Sizzling ter Hotty takes her on the de rigueur canal tour, a stop at a museum to see some etchings and multiple coffee and tea breaks. Watching Serena smile, he wonders how he ever thought her a plain girl. This is promising...first he doesn't want her to be alone on Saturday, then he's finding her attractive. What next?

Church! Serena just makes it to the English church for services...and who does she see there? Yup. Dr. Hotty. He has gone there on an impulse - guessing that's where she'd be. Good guesser.

The very next day Serena and Dr. ter Feulen are off to The Hague. Mum the Martyr shoots a couple of poison darts when she finds out she's not invited. Why does Serena gets to have all the fun? Lucky for Serena Mr. Harding is plenty willing and able to take mum off their hands.
Dr. ter Feulen takes advantage of the lack of mum to take Serena out to dinner - he makes sure it's a place where she would feel comfortable in her green jersey dress. Back in Amsterdam - Mum decides to catch a ride back to England with Mr. Harding. She'll be carried in comfort from door to door - which is just how she likes it. Serena is a bit a loose ends so she dabbles in a bit of fibbing. The doctor immediately calls her on it.
Him: Don't fib to me again.
Her: I won't unless I really need to.
You can just bet this will come back to bite her.
And now on to Friesland where they speak not Dutch, but Friesian! Serena is to stay in the nurses home...Dr. ter Feulen has arranged tea for her, just another way he shows his interest in her comfort. Except when it comes to work. Then it's no holds barred. His notes look like he wrote them with his left hand and blindfolded.
Her next days off are monopolized by Dr. ter Feulen again. He's got a surprise got her...he takes her home to meet the family! All seven of his siblings, plus wives, kids and his mother! Surprise! His family is fabulous. I love them. They are AWESOME! They tease and have fun. Thus proving that big families are way funner than being the only child of a selfish widowed mother. It's her best day ever!! Too bad she and Marcus (yes, that's his name, get used to it) don't hear what his mum has to say to about them after they leave. 'They'll do."

They might do, but first, it's back to England. And a Dawning Realization...then a swoop and a kiss! Serena assumes it's a pity kiss because Marcus was dropping her off at home...a cold and empty home. Mum knew she was coming but couldn't be bothered to stay in...she's been busy getting engaged and putting the family home on the market. I don't think Serena should have been surprised about the engagement, but boy, howdy is Mum the Martyr quick to seal a deal. She promises to give Serena some of the profits to buy herself a flat, but I think we all know how that will go. She's not about to part with any money. A few swift karate kicks to the windpipe should solve that problem.
After washing her smalls, Serena goes flat hunting and finds herself a small semi-basement flatlet. Can a stray cat be far behind?
Girlfriend hides her new situation from Marcus...but he's sure there is something going on, and he's going to get to the bottom of it. What's the matter, Serena? I shall find out! Imagine his surprise when he shows up at the former Casa de Proudfoot and finds a strange family living there. He uses his status as a doctor to wheedle a forwarding address from the new owners and then tracks Serena down, invites himself in and examines all the mod cons without so much as a by-your-leave. Less than impressed with the can of beans she's planning on having for dinner, he sweeps her off to his house. Dinner is lovely, and Marcus is able to get Serena to open up about her current situation. All goes well until he asks about her plans for Christmas. She decides that she's been too honest, so she fibs and says she'll be spending it in Ludlow at Casa de Harding. How will you get there? he asks. Another fib is necessary.

Fortunately for Serena, she has an ecclesiastical Aunt Edith. Aunt Edith invites Serena to spend Christmas in Great Canning with her and the rector. Meanwhile back at the office...one of the other ladies has heard that Dr. ter Feulen is getting married. Bummer. Serena has got to wrap her head around the fact that the love of her life is getting married to someone else. It's enough to make a person jump in a canal on a snowy day. Wait a sec...that's not why she jumped in the canal. It was snowing...there were cries for help...no one else was around...Serena is a good swimmer...off comes the coat and galoshes...in goes Serena. We never learn why the other lady was taking a dip on a snowy December day, but as a plot device it works for me. I love it when Marc jumps in and boosts Serena out in an efficient and undignified way. It's off to the hospital for a wash-up and a lie down. After being sick several times...in the "better out than in" kind of way, Marc kidnaps her and takes her back to his house to finish recuperating. He'll be out of town, so the proprieties are kept. One problem. Marc is furious with her. Why for? You have been telling me a pack of lies. Ahh...he called her mum (because of the canal thing) and found out about her lies. Her wicked lies. She's not spending Christmas at Ludlow is she? Nope, she's going to spend it in Great Canning. Whew. Dodged that bullet. This is the part where Serena wishes she had just drowned and then maybe he'd be sorry. Bishop and Mrs. Bishop are lovely and take great care of her, but when she's back at work it seems like he's avoiding her. He doesn't avoid her for too long. He drives her down to Great Canning then kisses her...enthusiastically - in front of her aunt and uncle. And she enjoyed it. Him too, for that matter.
Serena unburdens herself to Aunt Edith about Marc...and dissolves into tears. Of course that's the moment Marc walks in. Aunt Edith saves the day and worms her way into my heart by inviting Marc to dinner by saying, "Cold turkey hangs heavy on one's hands after a day or so." I love that woman. And now I'm strangely in the mood for turkey.
Marc unburdens himself to Aunt Edith...Serena's a hard nut to crack, says he. Editor's Note: I say, try talking to her - that would go a long way towards cracking the nut that is Serena.
Let's wrap it up:
*Everyone at the hospital knows Marc is getting married.
*Serena can't take it any more - she gives notice.
*Marc is happy to take her resignation.
*Serena is dreadfully unhappy.
*Serena is sent to the Matron's office on her last day.
*Marc proposes.
*The end.
Yes, that's the end.

Rating: I really really wish I liked this book better...it's just hard for me to get over Mrs. Proudfoot. Mrs. Proudfoot is a horrible widowed mother...the kind that expects her daughter to do the shopping, the cleaning, the housework, cater parties and supplement the family income so that mum can have nice clothes, go out to dinner, to the hairdresser, etc...get the picture? She's got a tinkling laugh and a poor little me persona - obviously a clever disguise for her role as an assassin. Supposedly Mum is not intentionally unkind, but I think that's a load of hooey. Mum is completely selfish and I have a hard time forgiving her. She complains about her health, but her health is just fine, it's just 'nerves'. I also don't have a lot of patience with enabling daughters. It's all well and good to love your family, but not to be a doormat, which is just what Serena is. A doormat and an enabler. Aargh. Marc is rather sweet - when he isn't avoiding Serena. He does expect Serena to be a mind reader - and as much as says that to her. The best I can give this is mince pies and that is mainly on the strength of Aunt Edith's leftover turkey and Marc's 'enthusiastic' kisses.
Food: cottage pie, meatballs, blancmange, zuurkool, tomates siusses, crème caramel, a bowl of my oh, so good soup, garlic mushrooms, erwtensoep, sole bonne femme, braised celery, Vichy water, poffertjes, beignets, dinner at the hospital canteen which consists of mince, potatoes and unspecified greens, can of beans, turkey, Gentleman's Relish, cans of cream of tomato and chicken noodle soup.

Fashion: short wool coat in a pleasing shade of aubergine and a pleated skirt in a matching check, dark green jersey dress.