Midsummer Star--1983

My copy of Midsummer Star is falling apart--the pages fluttering out like pieces of our heroine's ragged heart.

Celine Baylis, 22, is a gorgeous dark-haired beauty with years of theoretical education and 'finishing' behind her. She speaks French like a native, whips together food like a Cordon Bleu, looks awfully decorative and lives like Sleeping Beauty in a charming tumble-down Elizabethan Manor. But, as evidenced by her awful name (Celine just screams Neels villainess to me), her parents are not to be trusted.The Colonel (a dreamy type with a sporadic parade-ground manner) and his wife ('My, what a lot of flowers there are to arrange!') have dug themselves into a debt crisis. Their assets are these:

• The manor. Yes, this 10 bedroom house has damp patches and needs repairs but if you squint just right and fail to acquaint yourself with the furnace (ha! It doesn't have a furnace, silly.) it is charming.
• A couple of old retainers--cooking and butler/gardening. They're paying them no matter what.
• A well-stocked wine cellar that The Colonel mothers like a broody hen.
• An extensive kitchen garden--producing fresh delectables at little cost. The garden also has a good deal of flowers.
• One newly minted entrepreneurial daughter--passionately determined to make a go of running a Bed and Breakfast. ('If Mrs. Ham can, so can I.')

Act I: The Bed and Breakfast or Mother Can Do the Flowers or Celine the Magnificent

This is my favorite part. Once Celine (a name which is probably not too bad in real life but fits like a bad suit on a Neels heroine) understands the magnitude of her parents' financial straits, she throws off the young Swiss-finished lady and rolls up her sleeves. Celine pitches in...cleaning crud up in the kitchen

With an unflinching desire to live life as it is and not the way she wants it to be that had me cheering she tells the family solicitor, 'I've been doing nothing for a long time...I think I'll try something else for a change.'
In no time they've opened up the rooms, worked out menus and rates (Six pounds for a night, dinner will be three pounds fifty and extra for drinks) and had a few visitors.
And then one day, when she's strolling gently past the front drive she gets malaria. Okay. Not malaria. But some disease that transforms her personality and gives her a brain fever. Let's call it...I'm just spit-balling here...(snaps fingers)...The Nicky.
Celine instantly succumbs to The Nicky. He is with his parents on holiday and plans to stay a few days! Celine's joy has little to do with swelling the family bank account and more to do with being rushed off her feet by this magnificent malarial specimen.
Editorial Note:
I think of falling in love with Nicky as the Old Celine's last hurrah. She's not in love with the Malady, per se, but in love with this languid, cosseted life she used to live. And though she works like a Trojan, I think she's got some lingering longing for her former self. New Celine is rushed off her feet, running after guests and getting dinner. Nicky takes trays out of her hands and strolls with Old Celine in the garden. (Of course, New Celine takes a basket along with her to collect some peas while she's at it.)

And then his father has a stroke. (Maybe from hanging out with The Nicky?)

The Nicky is less than useless, leaving his father to be cared for by strangers, while he lolls about the scenery and makes passes at Celine. Papa Seymour (The Nicky's father), meanwhile, calls threadily for 'Oliver'.
Oliver Seymour, Nicky's cousin, is an up-right, up-tight, do-right bore according to The Nicky--he's a virtuous prig but they'll have to send for him.
Celine is up a ladder in filthy clothes painting a drainpipe that she's hauled into place (no lolling here!) when she meets the Odious Oliver. Deep in love (read: 'Deep in do-do') with the Malarial Nicky, she feels like she needs to adopt his attitudes and loyalties--hauling her opinions into line with his in much the same way as that wayward drainpipe. So she sees what Nicky sees: A smug and virtuous man bent on showing The Nicky up as the cheap imitation he is.
Oliver loves her at once.

Act II: Young Love's Dream Dashed
Oliver steps into the situation with an un-Nicky-like aplomb. Nicky is only able snatch moments with Celine--whispering about weekends and...marriage...of course he means marriage if weekends away are involved--before Oliver breaks things up. And then, when Nicky and his parents leave and all the bills are settled (by Oliver), Celine receives a crushing blow.
Oliver: I noticed you and Nicky were making googly-eyes at one another.
Celine: We mean to be married. What would an old bachelor like you know about a divine love like ours?
Oliver: Only that it would be illegal in all fifty Colonies.
Malarial Nicky is married.
It can't be true, thinks Celine as she spirals into a fevered delusion. But when The Nicky returns, she (after much equivocation) tells him what Oliver said. Well?
Oh. That. Divorce is easy these days...let's have a weekend...you're naive...let me grab your arm menacingly...
Oliver makes a sudden rescue and Celine takes off to cry her eyes out.
When Oliver does track her down he offers a shoulder to cry on and a job. She (stupidly!) wants to know if Nicky would really want to divorce his wife and find her again. (I almost can't forgive this much idiocy.) And then she calls Oliver avuncular because he must not be interested in women. He took this unflinchingly on the chin.

Act III: The Fetid Swamp of Bethnal Green or Celine Gets a Job and a Flatlet
Oliver arranges everything (even the installation of Mother Baylis' much younger sister as Celine's temporary replacement) and before you know it, Celine is living above a paediatric clinic in the rough part of London--Bethnal Green in the East End.
The point is that absence and activity will make her forget The Nicky but I keep getting annoyed at the subtle implication that she's not up to the job. She bravely started a semi-thriving Bed and Breakfast with limited resources and a willingness to work, people! Don't tell me that she's incapable of swabbing baby vomit or de-funking toddlers.
My one criticism of Oliver is that, just as The Nicky said, he is always right. This would be rather tiresome to live with and you find yourself wishing that Celine would be mugged and strangled on her way to church just to prove to him that establishing her in the middle of a slum might be a bad idea.
She does not get strangled.
Instead, on her day off, she meets The Nicky. And she has tea with him. And she listens as he pours his honeyed disease into her ears. But back in her flatlet she isn't quite so happy. Maybe dating a married man would be a bad idea!
Oliver, seeing the need to bolster Celine's resolve, makes some effort to fill up her free time and she spends a wonderful day with him in the country and then at his home. They go to Cats that evening and stumble across Daphne--Nicky's wife...and mother of his child! 'You knew--that they were going to be there. You did it deliberately...'
'Yes, I did it deliberately.'
Editorial Note:
Recently legendary screen actress Patricia Neal died and I've been going through a lot of her obits. She suffered a series of horrible strokes during one of her pregnancies and her rehabilitation was attributed to her husband, author Roald Dahl, being a horrible SOB (not a stretch for him, I hear) and making her button her own shirts if it took her an hour. This is exactly Oliver's approach. Nicky is a disease to be purged from her system and Celine won't get better by being coddled. But don't think that Oliver enjoys it.
Nicky isn't going to stop pestering her (though her fever has finally broken and she's so over him) so Oliver, tossing over his shoulder on the way to stabilize a diabetic child, says, 'A propos Nicky--we could get engaged.'
She agrees to talk about it (intending to ask if he's suffering under malarial delusions) and, coming upon him waiting for her to change--sitting on the bottom stair, reading a newspaper--she is blindingly certain that she's in love with Oliver.
So, now it's a foregone conclusion that she'll agree to an engagement of convenience. Delightfully we learn that her middle name is Petronella (please don't print that in the newspaper, she thinks) and his Christian names are Oliver Edmund Frederick. They dance in the line of duty and kiss in the line of duty and if his embraces are more warm than is strictly warranted than it must be attributed to his skills as an actor.
On one weekend they visit his aunt and uncle (Nicky's parents) and run into Daphne (quite bitter over her husband's continual philandering and in a mood to pour her heart out to Celine) and Nicky (who hisses at Celine, 'Am I supposed to believe that this is a fairytale romance?...You'll be telling me next that you love him.' Celine's quiet and heartfelt, 'I do' wipes the smug expression off his face).
So that's Nicky taken care of. But we still have thirty pages left and we have to fill them with something...Ah, a red herring! Just the thing. One of Oliver's friends tells Celine that she was sure Oliver was waiting to marry her daughter Hilary. This is just like your GPS telling you to take the I-405 North exit to get to the airport when you know that to take the I-405 South exit will get you there sooner. Detours ahead!

Act IV: Hie to Holland or The Little Italian Dress Takes a Trip
And then they go to Holland because he has a business trip and wants to have her meet more friends. She gets a chance to air her French and likes her hosts enormously. He catches her in the garden one afternoon, kisses her thoroughly and gently reminds her that they are engaged. But of course, that only makes her stiffen (instead of relent and reveal which was what he was hoping for) and, as he is a seismograph where she is concerned, he lets her go and the moment is lost.

Act V: A Spot of Snogging
Back in England, she plucks up her courage and corners the good doctor. She has heard that Hilary is a charming girl and, finding the selfless love of New Celine more satisfying (albeit, more painful) than the blind rapture of Old Celine, gives him back his ring and breaks the engagement.
Just by chance she meets Hilary in the street and sees that she's not a day over 14. Uh-oh. Or, if I may employ the more nuclear, Scooby-Doo-ism: Ruh-Roh.
Forces (by 'forces' I mean 'A very determined and angry Oliver') keep her from getting a minute alone with Oliver to explain and she finds herself being told by his butler that he's gone away for a few days. Tears!
And thank heaven for tears because Pym (the butler) calls Oliver to let him know he was making innocent young ladies burst into lamentations on his doorstep. That's why, when Celine is swinging gently in her Elizabethan garden under her Elizabethan tree, Oliver walks around the corner of the Elizabethan house. He's there to see what the fuss is about.
There's no fuss. Just kissing and disclosures and more kissing
The End




Rating: This was a darling little book. It's not one of my favorites (as it becomes mired in the swamp of Bethnal Green rather securely) but it mostly works and the two main characters have much to recommend them. Oliver is always right and serious and dependable. Celine (ugh, I hate her name) is fresh and plucky and hard working...and as dumb as a post. The only part I don't like much is when she's trying to justify seeing Nicky again even after finding out about his wife. I hated it, but then, I think I hated it because it was uncomfortable to read...not because it wasn't an understandable feeling for Celine to have. When she was behaving stupidly I would think to myself, 'She single-handedly rescued her family from ruin' and say it over and over in my head. She never does get the recognition she deserves for such an awesome thing. I give this a happy boeuf en croute.

Food: Cornflakes, kipper fillets, lamb chops, syllabub (twice!), egg and mushroom flan (ick.), fresh peas are pushed to the side of the plate (that's what I do with my peas too), Yorkshire pudding, roast beef, trifle, wild duck stuffed with apples, ice cream, strawberries coming out of your ears, Boeuf Stroganoff and lobster.

Fashion: Celine meets Oliver wearing paint-stained jeans and a cotton sweater. She could practically drive to Rome on the mileage she gets out of a 'little Italian dress'. She also wears a dim apricot silk and a faded cotton Liberty dress.

A Small Slice of Summer - 1975

I'm giving warning upfront that my gut reaction to A Small Slice of Summer is "Gah" (pronounced with a glottal stop and a slight gagging sound). A Small Slice of Summer is a real Curate's Egg.

Letitia Marsden (almost exclusively referred to as "Tishy", yuk.) is a recovery room nurse. Perhaps the only recovery room nurse in Neeldom. She has had "an unfortunate experience" with a Medical Registrar. Which sounds waaaay worse than it was. He invited her to go to Brighton for a weekend and she turned him down. He got back at her by shocking her with the news that she is "old-fashioned" and not even very pretty. Ouch. Yeah, that's pretty much the whole "unfortunate experience". Because of this, Tishy doesn't trust any man under the age of 50 years of age. That's quite the sweeping indictment of an entire sex, based on one weasel. Right off the bat I don't have much sympathy for her.

As a recently certified nurse, Tishy is not exactly rolling in the dough. She spends a fair amount of time calculating how much money she can spend in the cafeteria. All the girls are "protective" of poor little Tishy. Maybe if they weren't she could grow a spine. As it is, she is an invertebrate jellyfish. Squishy, yet occasionally poison. Deadly poison. Her version of poison is to scowl at men who have the temerity to smile at her. Which is precisely what happens when Doctor Jason Mourik van Nie smiles at our gal. Dr. Jason is good friends with cross-over character Julius van den Berg Effert (from the much more delightful Damsel in Green). Jason knows all about "the unfortunate incident"...seems like everyone knows about it. Move along, people, move along.

Evil Medical Registrar stops by the recovery room for a spot of dumping on our gal...and who should walk in, it's Doctor Jason! Who is Tishy riled up at? Doctor Jason. Why? Exactly.

Time to head off to Aunt Maud's to cool off. Disregard Aunt Maud, she never makes an appearance. On the way to said mythical aunt, Tishy falls off a curb, into the path of a grey Jensen Interceptor. The car belongs to Jason, and never fear, he manages to brake nearly in time to avoid hitting her. Nearly. Her ankle is sprained due to her lame-o attempt to fall in a way that won't hurt her new outfit. Her tights are ruined...when Jason cuts them off of her, neatly, just above the ankle. Instead of taking her to Aunt Maud's, he kidnaps her...and takes her to Dalmer's Place. Yes, THAT Dalmer's Place...the part-time home of Julius and Georgie van den Berg Effert. It's okay, she's been there a couple of times before...her older sister Margo is a great friend of Georgie. Georgie immediately puts her matchmaking cap on and sees hearts and flowers where there are none. Yet.

Jason has a few things to tell Tishy:

1. Not all men are villains.

2. Tishy is almost pretty when she smiles.

3. Tishy is a very touchy girl.

Jason drives Tishy home - it's sort of on his way to Plymouth. Thus begins the Typhoid Infected Gypsy Interlude. Tishy and Jason bond over feeding the scruffy dog, boiling water, and burning their clothes. After wasting some perfectly good Rich Tea Biscuits on the hungry dog, Tishy gets her knickers in a twist because...well, really for no good reason. Tishy does not take well to some implied criticism of her old clothes...and the implied hint that they should have been burnt months ago...and this leads naturally to the realization that she is in love with Jason. Right. In typical Neels style, Tishy will now have to hide her love away. She knows it's a bad idea...she's more sensible than that. "Common sense at times could be a dead bore."
Jason and Reverend Marsden bond over a mutual love of porcelain figurines, such as Shepherd Boy with Dog. Men and their hobbies...

Back at the hospital Tishy pines a bit. She is looking plainer than usual. Her modest looks are suffering. Margo (remember the older sister?) shares a birthday party invitation to Georgie's birthday. Which is all well and good until she hears, I mean overhears Julius and Jason talking about her...and Jason damns her with faint praise. She's not that plain and she's a nice girl. She's mad...and she's not going to take it. Take what? Exactly.

House party at Dalmer's Place...Tishy saves the Day! There is an episode involving a bull in a field...she not only saves Georgie and her daughter Polly, she also distracts the bull so that she can save Jason too. During the house party, Tishy spends a fair amount of time with Cousin Karel...who is pretty close to her in age. They laugh and joke and have fun...almost like he's a brother. Let's keep that term "brother" in mind.

I could go through the play by play, but let's not. Suffice it to say, Tishy is in love, and spends a lot of time being snippy, cold, sour, uneasy...all traits that seem to endear her to Jason. Yes, Jason is in love (why, oh why?) but thinks that Tishy might really like the younger man, Karel. Jason finally proposes, but neglects to say the three magic words - I love you - so Tishy declines. Jason discovers that Karel really loves Mary, Tishy is rude and icy to him - which must be quite the attraction, because he tracks her down at work where Tishy shows her true colors, again, and is shrill, cross and furious. I predict a ton of make-up implied conjugal relations in their future.

Verdict: Gah. A Small Slice of Summer is the pathetic Side B. A few good moments, but overall, not so much. Tishy is even more unpleasant than the less than enchanting, Samantha. Jason is not unpleasant, but he just doesn't really register that much. There seems to be no good reason for him to fall for Tishy...maybe it's a gratitude thing for saving him from a charging bull? Kidding. The Great Betty was not on the top of her game with this one. The quote I used (from Pirates of Penzance) for yesterday's trifle would work just as well for this book, so here it is again."Individually, I love you all with affection unspeakable; but, collectively, I look upon you with a disgust that amounts to absolute detestation." I'm going to be super generous and give this a beans on toast.

Food: A slab of treacle tart because starch was filling. cold roast beef, rhubarb pie with clotted cream, bread and butter, scones, Rich Tea Biscuits mixed with canned corned beef (for the gypsy dog).

Fashion: Tan jersey cardigan with a shell pink blouse that she had bought instead of eating properly, old slacks and a cotton shirt that have to be burned, last year's blue and white striped dress, green voile.

Cruise to a Wedding - 1974

Gosh, I wish I liked this book better. I sort of got an Enchanting Samantha vibe (which was not as enchanting as it sounds...) I did like it a bit better than that book, but not much.

Loveday Pearce, charming face, dark brown hair, tall girl....rising 28 (as her mother says). She is Theatre Sister and friend to the combustible Dutch girl, Rimada (which name so reminds me of a hotel chain...Ramada Inn). The beginning is all about Rimada...how she falls in and out of love with monotonous frequency...and currently is imagining herself in love with houseman Terry. Whatever Rimada wants, Rimada gets - if her guardian doesn't stop her first. Right now she wants to marry Terry. Loveday is pretty sure he's not right for Rimada - besides being a head shorter than Rimada, he is suspected of being a fortune hunter. Rimada would like to get around her autocratic, dictatorial, high and mighty guardian, Cousin Adam. Loveday lets her in on an English idiom "it wouldn't be cricket". At this point Loveday is against the marriage. Let's keep that in mind. She is AGAINST it.
While in the operating theatre, Mr. Gore-Symes, local surgeon, introduces Loveday to "Professor de mumble van mumble from mumble" (thank you Betty!). Huh?Who? Lucky for her he stops by her office and clearly tells her that he is Rimada's terrifying guardian, Adam De Wolff van Ozinga. They have words...which end with him kissing her! What? Our girl gets so incensed, that despite her original plan to put the kibosh on the Terry/Rimada romance, she now decides to help it along. It's sort of a vengeance thing - since Adam called her a meddling busy-body, she's darn well going to prove him right. I find her willingness to make other people miserable because she's miffed at a good looking guy mystifying...a mysterious mystery of epic proportions. Evidently Loveday is the brains behind the Loveday/Rimada friendship, so it's up to her to be Machiavellian and come up with a plan. A plan to unite Rimmy (argh! Now I'm channeling that rat from Ratatouille - Remy) and the vertically challenged, fortune hunting rat, Terry, or as I shall now refer to him, Darth Frodo.
Her evil plan? Go on a cruise and jump ship at Madeira for a wedding (thus the title). They will be daaaays away from England...however will Guardian Guy find them in time to stop the wedding?
Before going on a cruise, Rimmy needs to go to Holland and see her mum - and to buy a boatload of new clothes. Rimmy's mother welcomes them both - and thanks Loveday for being kind to her daughter while she is in exile. Exile? Rimmy is not the only drama queen in the family. Rimmy and her mum are definitely from the monied class...who else would bother with gold-plated taps in the loo? Much shopping and socializing ensue. Loveday finds Rimada's rich friends boring...and her mother is superficial. Lucky for her The Guardian shows up. And now we get his FULL name. Professor Baron Adam De Wolff van Ozinga...glad we've gotten that out of the way...Adam invites Loveday to come and look at his etchings...I mean...his home. His home a mere 120 miles away...
Loveday is given a home tour along with a bonus side dish of third degree. She finally tells Adam to get on with it, so she can enjoy looking at his Hepplewhite shield-back chairs without the Perry Mason bit. Daggers are drawn, a bit of verbal sparring, a swift kiss, expertly given, avoidance of innuendo about the canopied bed...he kissed her in a bedroom???...deep breath...deep breath...okay, I'm back. The kissing doesn't mean the swords are laid down...oh my word, no...much more crossing of swords to come.

En garde.
Thrust: So...how old are you, Loveday? Older than Rimmy, I'm sure. Won't tell? It's a well-known fact that women over thirty like to keep their age a secret. Ouch. First blood to Adam.
Rimmy discloses a bit more info on her relationship with Darth Frodo...she's already given him money three or four times and now she's planning on footing the bill for their cruise to a wedding. Loveday is shocked and very tempted to tell Adam what's going on...but barring that she settles for getting Rimmy to promise to tell her mother just before embarking on their cruise, as a salve to her conscious.
Back in London and back to work. There's still some time before the cruise - Rimmy and Darth Frodo are out on a date when Adam shows up and asks Loveday where she is. Loveday is a lousy liar and is busy making such a hash of her tangled webs, that she's downright grateful to accept a dinner invite from Adam - thinking this would be a great distraction. It might have been had they not ended up at the same restaurant as Rimmy - so Loveday is forced be wily.
Parry: "She talked through the starters, got her second wind with the smoked duck and was well into her stride with the dessert...she allowed her glass to be filled and re-filled...by the time they had reached the coffee she was feeling happy and slightly pot-valiant."
Riposte: Just when she's thinking that they've gotten away with it, Adam tells her that he knew all along that Rimmy was in the restaurant with Darth Frodo. All that work, just for a hangover. Fast forward one week, and it's time to Shove Off! Loveday, Rimmy and Darth Frodo walk the plank...to take the Cruise to a Wedding! Cue the Love Boat Theme. Darth Frodo is given the job of visiting the Purser's office and securing them a table. Which he does. Unfortunately for them the only table to be had was for six persons...and guess who joins them?? Adam, that's who. Like an uninvited bad fairy he descends on the party. And proceeds to sow doubt and discord, in a very genial sort of way.
Feint: Sorry Rimmy, but you're broke - all your investments failed. Darth Frodo will have to support you on his limited income. I still have enough to give you whatever kind of wedding you'd like, within reason. Hey, Loveday... what kind of wedding would you want?
Land Ho! Medeira Interlude.
Turns out the cruise is not so much to a wedding as it is to an old flame of Rimmy's. Adam has arranged for Guake ten Kate (I just can't make that first name sound good in my head) to join the party in Funchal. Everyone debarks...car is rented, scenic drive is taken, flora admired...and Loveday wonders about indoor plumbing for the locals. Adam stops at a scenic viewpoint two thousand feet up, and we find that Loveday is acrophobic. Oops. Not such a treat for her. But it does give Loveday and Adam a chance to take a walk...and for Loveday to find out that Adam is a Manipulator, Grand Class. He admits to lying about Rimmy losing her money and telling Darth Frodo that Loveday is an heiress. Loveday is less than amused at that, because she's had to fend off advances from him. She does see the humour...but is not amused at being made use of. Adam sees Darth Frodo off...after telling him that Loveday is to be married soon. Of all the nerve! Yes, but surgeons need nerves...
If talk of marriage is being bandied about, can a Dawning Realization be far behind? I think not. In fact, that very night while idling round the dance floor Loveday is gobsmacked to find that she is in love. Adam invites her out on the balcony to look at the moon - but she's in shock and gives a catty remark, to which Adam replies, "Do you dislike me very much?" And there's a facer, she thought desperately...Adam babbles on a bit, while Loveday is lost in thought. "Are you plotting against me again?" It's just the moon making me feel not quite as ancient as you think I am...do you want to snog?
Thrust: Fierce mockery in his kiss and voice. Ouch. That one might need stitches.
Parry: Loveday gives a come-hitherish look at a stranger who comes to ask her to dance. The girl's got wiles, and she knows how to use them.
Feint: The next night Loveday pulls a mythical headache...she can't bear to spend the evening with him. Never fear, she orders a tasty meal from room service and grabs her one and only book.
Counter-Thrust: Adam visits the 'sickroom' with Rimmy, cancels her meal and takes away her book. A plain meal of bouillon, steamed fish and a miniature jelly is what Adam orders up for her. How could Loveday be head over heels with someone who could be so utterly beastly as to starve her - and take away the only book she had? Despite the angstiness, Loveday is happy to be sitting next to Adam on the plane (remember: afraid of heights). He holds her hand for the entire 560 mile flight to Lisbon. A day spent sightseeing in Lisbon, then a flight to Holland. No hand holding this time, but Adam is handy with a flask of brandy to ward off the air sickness.
Back at Rimmy's mum's house, Loveday is not feeling the love...and to cap it off, Adam is trying to corner her for a 'talk'.
Feint: Time to fake another sick headache. That gets her out of a talk that evening, but Adam is persistent and he'll be back in the morning - after breakfast. Loveday sets her alarm for 4am and sneaks out. She is so determined to avoid Adam that she walks two miles, in a drizzle, to the bus station.
Time for some bullet points:
*Back at work, it's business as usual...the surgeons lists were like trying to fit a quart into a pint pot. Mr. Gore-Symes asks her to tart up the place a bit for a posse of surgical talent he's expecting. The surgical talent turns out to be Professor Baron Adam De Wolff van Ozinga.

*Loveday drops her forceps in shock.
*swooping kiss.
*trip home to visit the family.
*Adam finally runs Loveday to ground...follows her into the Nurses Home! Proposes in front of a gaggle of goggling nurses. Kissing. Touché.

Rating: I found the story uneven and I really disliked the part where she connives to help Rimmy elope with loser boy...but aside from those glaring problems, there was some fun to be had. Sure, Loveday was fairly abrasive, but I found the give and take pretty equal - most of the pitched battles were well deserved. Awesome ending...it makes up for a lot - I give it a madeira cake.
Food: smoked duck, trifle, Italics Food! gazpacho, lulas guizadaz, arroz doce, flan, apple tart
Fashion: tweed suit, amber silk jersey with ruffled collar, pink sheath, long dress of cream and pink chiffon, coral pink silk voile, cotton jersey in a pleasing shade of mushroom, jersey trouser suit!

Victory for Victoria - 1972

Victoria Parsons, 23, copper hair, tawny eyes, is about to remove her drenched top in a disused powder magazine located in a cliff on the island of Guernsey. Oops. There happens to be a strange man in this not so abandoned shelter. Whatever shall she do? Great shades of Gilbert and Sullivan!

Victory for Victoria has a fun beginning, and an awesome ending, too bad the creamy center is only so-so. I'm not going to go through the whole book, play by play...so here's the Cliff Notes:

Strange man turns out to be Dr. Alexander van Schuylen. He stalks/tracks her back to St. Judd's - where she works as a Staff Nurse. He just so happens to be a visiting consultant there too...so he takes advantage of that to ask her out on a date. Yes, a date. After making darn sure that Alexander is not married, this turns into the datingest book in Neeldom...a virtual date-o-rama, date-a-palooza. The dates are many and varied. Picnic tea, dinner at the Ritz, weekend with the folks, etc...and with every date comes kissage....Love is busting out all over.

Not everything is all sunshine, rainbows and puppy dogs. There is a sinister character who goes by the name of Dr. Jeremy Blake, but we'll just call him Evil Plot Device #1. He tries a spot of sexual harassment in the hospital corridors and is roundly kicked in the shins by Victoria and then clocked by Alexander. Best. Scene. Ever. He continues to be a re-occurring thorn...but mostly in a small way.

More dates, more kissing, quit your job, let's talk about weddings (without being actually quite engaged)...His parents love her, she loves them, Holland is awesome...UNTIL....Evil Plot Device #2 - Nina de Ruiter. Nina pretends to be Alexander's old flame and spreads lies and deceit - like peanut butter on whole wheat, the little vixen. She drives a wedge and Victoria does a bolt back to London...

While working at St. Judds, Evil Plot Device #2 (Nina) drops by on her way to Brighton (yes, Brighton!). #2 then uncharacteristically admits her part in breaking up the happy couple- and gives Vicky some advice on how to get her man back. Editor's note: I have a big problemo with Nina - I get the mischief, I can't make myself believe that she would go out of her way to help Victoria and Alexander make up.

Victoria writes an impassioned letter to Alexander and then proceeds to give it to Evil Plot Device #1 to drop in the mailbox. Umm. Does anyone else see a problem here? Handing a letter that is vital to her future happiness to Evil Incarnate? #1 burns the letter (this would be a Federal Offense in the USA - not sure what the Brit equivalent is...Crimes Against the Crown???), steals letters from Alexander from the cubbyholes and burns them also (more crime)...burns another letter from Victoria (yet more...). Things seem hopeless for our couple until Victoria gathers up the shreds of her dignity and chucks it in the waste bin. Off to Holland to confront Alexander! Cue a British marching song. She goes to his office and camps out in his waiting room. Victoria spends an entire day waiting for him so that she can have a chat - but he won't see her. He bundles her off to a hotel that she can't afford (she finds cheaper accommodations)...but Victoria will not be put off. She heads back to his office to wait him out. Alexander seems to finally realize she's not leaving, so he agrees to talk...which turns into true confessions, which turns into kissing and making up. The end.

Rating: This truly was only so-so. There was more dating, more kissing and more applying of perfume than any three Neels books put together, but that wasn't enough to pull it out of the hum-drums. Evil Plot Device #1 is okay, he makes evil sense, but Evil Plot Device #2 is less than believable - there's no reason for her to go out of her way to fess up...I loved the ending - after the impetuous bolting. Victoria's siege on Fort Alexander is epic. Enough to bring the rating up to a treacle tart.

Fashion: Pink silk jersey with coffee coloured sandals, peacock blue silk with leg o' mutton sleeves, lime green organza with gold slippers (for the ball), cinnamon-coloured wool with matching coat and brown patent shoes.

Food: Crab patties, cheese board, ice pudding, cream puffs, Chicken Savoyarde, chocolate roulade, Pesche Ripiene, steak and kidney pie AND steak and kidney pudding (what's the difference?), grilled lobster tails, spring chicken.

Wedding Bells for Beatrice - 1995

Beatrice Crawley is a tall luscious Olivia...at 5'10" she's a head taller than dear old dad (who sounds like he must be vertically challenged). She's as close to British royalty as The Venerable Neels allows her heroines....the great granddaughter of an earl (do you suppose he's a "belted earl"?).
Her first thought on seeing Gijs at a Christmas party is "He doesn't like me." Beatrice then proceeds to be snappy and rude...lighten up, girlfriend! She knows she needs to apologize so she heads over towards Gijs as he is talking to the rector - who leaves her with Gijs after this parting shot: "I leave you in good hands; Beatrice is a sweet girl." Gijs has a bit of a sly sense of humor: I'm delighted...and surprised to hear that. So much for apologizing. Beatrice is now bitter and rude. Again, what's not to like?
Little brother George comes home for Christmas break - with his dirty laundry, unwrapped presents, and a hollow leg. Beatrice puts his clothes in the washer, wraps his presents and feeds him fruitcake...all of which I, as a mother of 5 boys, disapprove of. It's not until she goes over to the church and rewires the fairy lights that I start warming up to her.
After Christmas, Beatrice heads back to St. Justin's, to take up the reins of 'administrator' of the building that houses the Path Lab. She has her own little flatlet on the top floor, with her office down on the ground floor. Enter social climbing boyfriend Tom the Toad. Self-important, conceited, condescending, ambitious, smug...Beatrice realizes that she has let herself drift into something more than a casual relationship with this toad. Tom the Toad takes Beatrice out for a bite to eat after she works a long hard day. His idea of a 'bite', is to have one small plate of sandwiches - and then to devour all of them but one. This does not endear him to our statuesque heroine...neither does his assumption that she will marry him. Her, "...I don't want to marry you." is ignored...he proceeds to inform her that she'll be a splendid wife...with all the 'right connections'...toad.
Her: I don't want to see you again.
Him: Oh, you are a silly girl. I'll change your mind. (then leaves without opening any doors for her)
Her: "Yes, I am a silly girl. For not having seen sooner that you are nothing but a coward with a heart full of fear." (Alright, you caught me...that last line was from The Princess Bride...but it goes so well here...)
Tears of anger and frustration dribble down her cheeks as she walks into....Gijs? Yup. He's in London to read a paper on Haematology...at her very own Path Lab building...his large hanky is handy for mopping up - he follows her up to her flatlet and goes avuncular on her, so she opens up like a guest on Oprah about the cause of her tears. My family didn't like him much, when he found out mum was an earl's granddaughter his social climbing toadiness jumped right up. Then he took me out tonight and ate all the sandwiches. "I knew that I didn't love him then - well, any girl would, wouldn't she? At this point, I totally forgive her for her initial rudeness to Gijs. Gijs invites her out for a belated supper -so off they go, in his great socking Bentley. Having a full tummy helps restore Beatrice's spirits tremendously (it has much the same effect on Betty Keira) - she fills Gijs in on the details of her working life. He takes her back, and like some sort of Door Opening Super Hero proceeds to open the car door, the path lab door AND her flatlet door.
Next day dawns on some kind of medical conference occurring in her building. Beatrice is in charge of making sure it all goes smoothly - ticking names off a list, helping elderly men out of their overcoats, making sure refreshments and lunch are ready...she peeps in during Professor van der Eekerk (yes, that's Gijs's name) - he's going on about haemolytic anaemia, jaundice Rh factor, polycythaemia, etc...then it's tea time again. The cook is amazed at their capacity to talk about blood and eat at the same time... "like a swarm of locusts...and 'ow they can eat and drink and talk about blood beats me though I must say 'e 'oo did the talking is something like. Wouldn't mind 'aving a lecture from 'im." (which sounds perilously close to "he can eat crackers in my bed, anytime") As Beatrice is finishing tidying up, in comes Tom the Toad, trying to wheedle and charm...but Beatrice is uncharmable and unwheedlable. Toadish Tom is getting a little too pushy, Gijs comes riding in on his white charger and squashes the toad, offers Beatrice a quick meal at Alfred's Place (think greasy spoon), and off they go. The waitress is awestruck at the thought of seeing an actual, real, live professor...
Gijs: 'I feel that I should have horns or a beard and a basilisk stare at the very least.'
Beatrice: you do look like one...only you're a bit too young...
Gijs: I'll start the beard first thing in the morning
Beatrice: No! I mean professors are elderly, grey-haired, forgetful and unworldly...
Gijs: I have grey hairs, but I rather like the world. I can be forgetful and in a few years I'll be elderly.
At which point it is time to exchange vital statistics. Gijs is 37, Beatrice is 28. Nice point spread there.
And now, in the interest of world peace, global standardization, and a 'step forward in the unification of Europe', Beatrice gets a foreign exchange job dropped in her lap. Or maybe on her head. She is to go to Leiden for at least a month and do the same job there...and a Dutch woman will come over and do hers. Mum thinks it's a great opportunity...to maybe meet that charming man from the Christmas party.
Meanwhile, Toady Tom is lurking in the shadows, trying to make a play...but Beatrice has been successful at avoiding him, that is, until New Years Eve. Toady Tom takes a sharp left turn into Stalker Valley - he accosts her in the parking lot, as she is going out to a party..."Still playing hard to get? I'm not taking no for an answer." Wow. Does anyone else think that sounds a wee bit threatening? Gijs does not miraculously pop out of the pavement to rescue her...but she does run into him at the New Years Eve party. Her mum is there too, and wouldn't you know it, she's already on a first name basis. 'Gijs, indeed.' thinks Beatrice. Gjis Indeed is a very good dancer...who just so happens to have a motherless seven year old daughter. You heard right, Gijs is a daddy.
Beatrice: "You should marry again..."
Gijs: Great minds think alike...
Mrs. Crawley hides her disappointment when Beatrice informs her that Gijs is planning to marry...was her spidey sense wrong? Hmm. We'll just have to wait and see.
Gijs gives Beatrice some idea of what to expect during her foreign exchange...and then offers to send her a couple of books on Holland. Study up, girlfriend. A hospital porter delivers the books a couple of days later. One was a modern history of the Netherlands...doesn't sound too bad...the second dealt with constitution, laws and politics. Really? Sounds like slow going to me.
Foreign Exchange Program. Turns out Beatrice is not the only hospital employee headed for Holland. Sister Watts has also been tagged as an Ambassador to the Netherlands. In Holland, Hetty Zilstra is assigned to show Beatrice around - she has nothing but praise for "our Gijs" (I'm imagining a deep sigh before and after "our Gijs"). Beatrice gets settled in to the Dutch hospital just fine (remember, everyone except cleaning ladies and cooks speak English in Holland)
Gijs returns from a trip unexpectedly, and Beatrice is unexpectedly delighted. Our Gijs asks Beatrice to spend her day off with him...
Beatrice: "...I was going to go shopping..."
Our Gijs: "Would you like to spend the day with me, Beatrice?"
Beatrice: "Yes, please."
Our Gijs: *kiss*
Gijs has a lovely home, and daughter Alicia is as cute as a button with her Alice band. Our Gijs takes advantage of the situation and asks Beatrice if she'd like to spend her next day off with them. Of course she can't say no when there's a seven year old in the room - but she is a bit vague. Beatrice doesn't get a tour of the house yet, but she is treated to a tour of the grounds, complete with stables, in which we find one standard issue pony, ditto one donkey (rescued from abusive 'travelers') ditto one horse. Alicia doesn't go to sleep that evening until indulging in a spot of emotional blackmail - a promise is extracted from Beatrice to visit the following week. Abstract reasons for marriage are discussed...the sordid tale of Our Gijs' first marriage is recounted (Zalia was a party girl, left before Alicia was one to live in Italy with her American boyfriend, then conveniently died in a car accident). A kiss on the cheek goodbye. A kiss on the cheek hello...will you marry me? Huh? What'd I miss? Our Gijs promises to share his sandwiches with her, unlike Tom the Stalker Toad. "It's all so sudden." (cringe. Really, Betty?) Think about it, says he... Our girl is then 'treated' to a phone call from Stalker Toad Tom..."Missed me? I bet you're dying to see me...I've forgotten your little outbursts..." *SLAM* Down goes the phone, *RING* There goes the doorbell - it's Gijs and he can see something is wrong...Beatrice tells him all about the harassing phone call and Our Gijs comes up with a perfect ten-step plan.
Step 1: Have adorable seven year old gush about the dress she'd like to wear to the wedding.
Step 2: Don't refer to proposal...let her stew.
Step 3: Loads of casual kisses on the cheek.
Step 4: Give her a poesy ring with romantic inscription. "You and no other."
Step 5: Throw adorable seven year old at her as a bit of blackmail.
Step 6: Back on the burner to stew again.
Step 7: Let her go back to England with nary a good-bye.
Step 8: Send her masses of roses.
Step 9: Let her see Stalker Boy again. He can be depended on to harass.
Step 10: Show up unannounced and let her throw herself at you.
Result: One Dawning Realization. Easy peasy. Bring on the Marriage of Convenience. Shall we marry right away? "We are both mature people, are we not?" Oops. Our Gijs is just about to be sent back to Step 1 - Beatrice is bubbling with rage at being called "mature". Editor: I'm not quite sure why that should rankle so much, but I admit that even at age 50 I'm not overly fond of being called mature. Gijs gives a remarkably nice apology and agrees to wait a couple of weeks while Beatrice gets a wedding organized. Yup. Our girl gets to have a wedding dress and veil. Per his request. Twenty guests each, extras can come to a reception at Casa de Crawley. Mrs. Crawley is a little puzzled by Gijs saying that he had thought about taking Alicia back to Holland with them after the wedding (what about implied conjugal relations, she wonders...) Standard RDD issue sapphire engagement ring is brandished..."It's beautiful, but may I still wear the poesy ring?"
It's time to get down to brass tacks and get that wedding dress sorted out. Beatrice and Mum go to Bath and get some ivory satin, then bring it back to the village to have Miss Fish, the local seamstress whip it up with her magic fingers. Editors Note: I like the fact that whenever wedding dresses are called for in Neeldom, they are made up in a fairly timely manner. None of this months and months for alterations silliness.
Weeks have turned into days, and now it's the day before the wedding. Time to meet the in-laws...and to get an eyeful of Gijs in a dinner jacket. "Even if she hadn't fallen in love with him already...she would have done so now. Dinner-jackets were made for men such as he."
The wedding was lovely, then it's off to Holland, the village people (altogether now, YMCA, it's fun to stay...never mind) gather to welcome the new couple, Gijs carries Beatrice over the threshold...No,no, you weren't too heavy...life seems good, all Beatrice has to do is...*RING*...oh, hello Mies....(50% of all Dutch villainesses are named Mies...kidding). Mies is invited to dinner. Gijs even goes so far as to request some of her favorite dishes be served for dinner and offers the fact that Mies is small and dainty and can eat anything she wants without gaining weight (insert sound of grinding teeth here). Mies turns out to be not quite what she expected. For one thing, she has thick ankles - and she's fairly non-catty. She does offer to help Beatrice with any party planning...which offer Beatrice plans to accept just as soon as a certain netherworld region freezes over. The next day Beatrice takes the car out for a drive in the country. All is well and good until the freezing rain starts...and the road ices up. She has to stop because of an accident blocking the road - and it's quite a while until the police come and call Gijs for her. He looks furious when he gets there. Well, of course he would - he's been worried to death about her - but she doesn't know that - only that he's mad at her. They have a very quiet ride back home - but that all changes when they walk in the door. Besides the faithful household help and Alicia, Mies is there and SURPRISE!!! Guess who I brought home, honey? It Toady Tom! I sure didn't see that coming. Instead of Mies being a villainess, she turns out to be practically a benefactress to Beatrice, by taking Tom totally off the market. Beatrice is not quite happy about the situation - she knows that Tom is a toad, but Mies is one step ahead of her. She also know that Tom is a toad (her word is actually philanderer!), but Mies plans to wear the pants in the family and wield the purse strings. She won't let him wander far. Sounds a bit dire for Tom, but hey, he deserves it.
And now for some angst. Gijs calls Beatrice one evening and tells her not to wait up for him. She can hear glasses clinking in the background and a woman's voice - sounds like a party! She does wait up, and then chews him out royally for staying out so late. "You may as well have made a night of it!" She nearly throws a vase at him - but he manages to forestall that. She finds out the next day that he had been busy with a medical emergency - a fight having occurred at a restaurant (thus the clinking glasses). She feels horrible about it, but Gijs won't let her apologize - which I think is a bit stinky of him. Then he goes off to Northern Ireland to put himself in harms way for a bit. She still feels horrible - he's gone for days, then comes back just barely in time for the hospital ball. When he dances the obligatory last waltz with her, she takes the opportunity to tell him that she loves him...he waltzes her out to the conservatory...I love you too, snogging, what do we do now? Let's go home! The end.
Verdict: I wasn't too sure of this one at the start - when Beatrice and Gijs first meet she's snappy and rude. I thought to myself, "Oh brother! Not another one of those." And it wasn't. Thankfully Beatrice warms up to Gijs pretty quickly - and manages to be fairly honest with him (except for that little thing about being in love...). Gijs was fun for me - he was always teasing her when she talked about the weather, and I do love an ongoing tease - when it's not mean-spirited - which it wasn't. I loved how he was a bit of a matchmaker for Mies and Tom. I didn't love how stand-offish he got all of a sudden when Beatrice reamed him out for staying out late, and then went out of his way to not let her apologize. My other complaint is that not very many of the supporting characters are really fleshed out. Because of that I think I'll give this one a boeuf en croute.
Fashion: Ivory wedding dress, 'safe' dress to meet the in-laws in, Tattersall check suit, hyacinth blue jersey dress worn with low heeled leather lace-ups, silk crêpe in old rose, long velvet coat, dark grey dress with white collar and cuffs, thick tweed skirt, angora sweater.
Food: Lobster mousse twice! pheasant, bombe glacé, castle puddings, lamb cutlets, turkey, Christmas pudding, fruitcake, hospital stodge, chocolate mousse, beef casserole with dumplings, boiled celery in a béchamel sauce (ew).

When May Follows--1981

When May Follows was chosen to be reviewed this week because it is May. That's the kind of judgment and wisdom it takes to be a Grand High Poobah Arbiter of Everything here at The Uncrushable Jersey Dress. That's why they pay us the big bucks.

Professor Baron Raf van Tellerinck, 38, is very lucky he has a short first name. That's what Alice Bennett must be thinking to herself as she meets him at her party. Like the skilled surgeon that she isn't, she wields a very blunt scalpel and hacks away at The Unnecessarys like a cancerous mole. ("I shall call you Raf.") Like another certain Mrs. Bennett, she flags down her three daughters to meet the dashing stranger. What a fine thing for our girls!
Two of them are short--cute, but short--but the third (and oldest) sister is an Amazon. "Five feet ten inches and what's known as a large lady, no one believes I'm one of the family..." I personally don't greet new people with my figures ("5'3", size 6 on a good day but 8 when I'm bloated.") but Katrina Bennett (27, Ward Sister on Men's Medical at Benedict's) can see Raf's faint surprise.
They chat for a bit about the weather and the seasons and he quotes a bit of poetry. Here is some of it:
O, To be in England Now that April 's there, And whoever wakes in England Sees, some morning, unaware, That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf, While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough In England—now! And after April, when May follows, And the whitethroat builds, and all the swallows!

It's a darling one of Browning's--stuffed with longing for spring in England--but actually not that relevant to the story. Bummer. Unless you read it as an allegory for all that is bright and wonderful about Kate getting even better when May follows in which case...Betty you magnificent genius!
Katrina returns to her hospital duties in London soon following. Here we see our splendid Amazon actually dress down a subordinate (quite rare in Neelsdom--but the girl deserved it), negotiate hospital beer rations (I will never get used to Betty allowing mythical patients to drink beer in hospital), and cope admirably with slipped ligatures. Well, not too admirably. She'd really like some help as the blood is pooling rather quickly out of the bandage...Enter Raf (rhymes with strafe or laugh?). He's a surgeon!
She meets him at Honorary Uncle Ben's and then (like our heroes always do) he asks her to attend The King and I in front of a benignly ignorant observer who takes her consent for granted and asks helpful questions like, "Going all tarted up?" (yes, he does!). She agrees--only to ask, with charming frankness, "Am I to come all tarted up?" (All this tarting tempts to say in a very Inigo Montoya fashion, "I do not think that means what you think it means.")
In the mean time, Katrina has accepted (in a moment she already bitterly regrets) a date with Jack "Brighton" Bentall. He's short (!), takes her to Chinese (!) food (if you can call it that!), and bores her into a stupor that she rouses out of like she's been splashed with cold water. Bettys, I give you the Jack "Brighton" Bentall: Anatomy of a Proposition:

• Everybody else does it these days...
• ...and getting married seems a bit silly...
• ...until I've reached the top...
• ...and you're not all that keen on it, are you?
• You can't be--you must have had plenty of chances, but after all, you are twenty-seven.

I think he hit all the high points, class. He first isolates his test subject as a freak of nature, devalues cherished institutions and aspirations, peacocks about his career prospects, follows with a flourish of understanding as to the short-term nature of her interest and then...reminds her of her advanced age! That'll get them every time.
Instead of insulting his age, bald spot, lack of inches, pretensions to sophistication, choice of eatery for the grand seduction (and I like Chinese food), etc. etc., she tells him that she's just accepted a job...in The Gulf...she's resigning tomorrow...so sorry.
He's predictably sulky and moody and punitive--just the sort of man for whom sexual harassment legislation was created. Still, she said The Gulf and she's got to quit her job or be plagued by this small (and I do not refer to his size) man indefinitely.
Raf corners her in an office. "Would you consider marrying me?" Hmm. Sand storms and heat stroke or...a lifetime supply of pannekoeken? Class? (Bounces on seat. Raises hand. "Me, me, pick me!")
She dithers the merest bit and capitulates without ever knowing why. He hasn't said he loves her. He's been quite frank about needing companionship but has been 'Neels-explicit' ("...take our time getting to know each other...") about conjugal relations.
The engagement, while short, has a few interesting moments.

• She gets the idea that he's not telling her something about his debt-to-asset ratio. If father were alive, he'd sit down with the RDD, ask some pointed questions about prospects and intentions and that would be that. Sure he runs a great, socking Bentley but what does that mean?
• She's teasing him about his 'girlfriends' and when he agrees that he has had plenty, she frowningly takes the comb she had been putting into her hair out and jabs it in again anyhow. "That comb looked very nice where it was before, why didn't you leave it there?" He took it gently out again and slid it expertly into its original place, then bent to kiss her cheek...He's tipped his hand. This intimate little interplay is the Rich Dutch Doctor equivalent of putting his proposal on the Jumbo-tron at a Knicks game. He's in love with her and she doesn't know it.
  
• He gives her her engagement (Government Issue Heirloom Sapphire/Diamond) ring in the hospital consultant's room and asks (with what I image to be very rehearsed casualness) if she'd like to seal the deal with a kiss. She flings her arms around his neck very spontaneously while he (the Kiss Solicitor!) is...terse and perfunctory. But don't judge the man. He was contracting a love-on-one-side marriage and was unprepared for the amount of self-control needed to persuade her that nobody loved anybody--especially when she kissed like that!

She is married in a leghorn hat (Foghorn Leghorn is in my head too) in a little chapel in the Abbey where her father worked. Jake (with Brittania of Brittania All At Sea) is the Best Man.
The honeymoon is when things start to go South (no North, as they are in Scotland) for Katrina. Raf is lecturing for the first week and she's a bit lonely and probably wondering why he wanted companionship so much when she never sees him. She asks if she might attend one of his lectures and he snubs her ("My dear girl, whatever for? You'll be bored to tears in half an hour."). And he's right. After all, it's not as though she has spent the bulk of her adult life in the medical field, treating those same conditions he would discuss..........erm. But give him a break. He is actually saying, "Darling, there is not a prayer that I could keep my mind on end-to-end anastomosis while you're in the room. I'd tell the fellows to use the wrong suture stitch and then hundreds would die all because of your legs."
She feels hurt out of all proportion and in a delightful bit of retaliation spends his money (she still doesn't know how much he has) on ugly shoes and the kind of trouser suit that women negotiate nuclear non-proliferation treaties in. Of course, real pay-back would have been to make him take her to dinner in them but she caves and tells him all about her revenge. Duly chastened, he promises to let her come to a lecture sometime. His eyes gleam.
They drive to Holland after spending the night in his London flat. (What? He has a London flat? Sheesh. Now you tell me.) He lives 'on the fringe' of a village. Surely that's specific enough. Well, actually, he probably owns half the village and lives in the baronial seat, past the high wrought iron gates and up the sanded drive.
"It can't be.."
"Yes, it is."
Dang it. He's probably stinking rich too...With time she adjusts herself admirably to this rather sudden reversal of fortune.
Nanny and Caspel (the butler) and his wife all belong to Raf's childhood escape from Nazis. He's an orphan, you see, and utterly without close relatives of any kind. (My maternal comfort-o-meter is off the charts.)
If things are a little distant between Raf and Katrina, they're still pleasant. She becomes accustomed to driving on the right because, if you'll forgive a little personal Betty Keira cultural imperialism, that's the way Providence intended people to drive.
He takes her out for the day by the sea when he spots a yacht heading dangerously for a channel. Nothing for it but to shuck the shoes and head into the drink. Thank heavens, Katrina can swim--not that she gets any thanks for it. His only response to her swimming hundreds of meters into choppy seas (in a gorgeous nautical number), providing traction while he splints a leg and comforting a wailing toddler is to say, "You're wet--it suits you." Let's not get into an argument about whether it was his job to thank her since they shared equally in the rescue (I am inclined to think that his opinion of women was quite high since he didn't automatically assume she would be useless in an emergency--gratitude might have been condescending about her abilities). But every general has to deal with troop morale and with some positive reinforcement she would happily have charged the hill again--especially as she has just had a dawning realization on the yacht deck!
Now Katrina has a goal--whereas before she was aimless about what constituted satisfactory happiness in her marriage.
But every Eden has its viper. Raf returns one day with Beyke (the Dutch equivalent of Tammy)--an old friend lately returned from the States (and quarantine, presumably, to get the America stink off her). Suddenly green-eyed jealousy makes for a very tempestuous home life. Faked headaches, real headaches, pettishness...Not Katrina's finest hour but Raf isn't helping out at all. On the night of her very first dinner party (in her new adopted country where she knows servants and only ONE other couple), he walks in barely on time with Beyke on his arm.
I know, I know, it's part of a grand plan he has to make her jealous but he's not really thought out how awful this is. First dinner party! Doesn't speak Dutch! Doesn't know anyone! Nerves stretched to infinity! Now is not the time to teach her that she loves you. And don't you dare laugh that she's getting tight on the whisky.
To top it off, he takes Beyke home (while Kate does the dishes and a horrified Caspel looks on), doesn't compliment her on her appearance and (when he shoos Caspel off and picks up a dishrag) tells her that there was no reason for the evening to be a failure since she's a 'capable girl and... had plenty of help'. Breathe deeply, my Bettys, while I compose a letter:

Dear Teacher of Social Mores to Dutch Young Men,
Sir, you have failed. There are few Commandments of Husbanding that are entirely unbreakable but the failure to bite when one's spouse is fishing for compliments is the foremost. This, and other rules such as Outfit Noticing, Wrinkle Non-noticing and Open-handedness, should be leading the curriculum. All else is gravy,
Sincerely,
Betty Keira
Grand High Poobah Arbiter of Everything

Happily, Raf responds with some pretty heated words of his own. Yes, I said happily.
When they go away for a weekend to his farm in Friesland (I tell you, getting a list of his properties is like wringing blood from a stone.) she is determined to have it out with him:
Why didn't you tell me about Beyke/Tammy!
Do you love me?
You probably have a tattoo of her on your chest!
No, seriously, do you love me even a little?
She doesn't stink like America too much anymore--we could divorce!
It would make all the difference in the world if you said you love me...
Well, I don't!
He actually is pretty persistent about getting her to be honest with him but she's afraid that if she is, he'll be a slave to duty and stick with her--even though his heart belongs to Tammy...er, Beyke.
Maybe his lectures in Austria will help him sort out...BAM!...a plane crash. (Don't mind the screams of the dead...) It's Raf's flight number and Katrina is frantic. She rushes to the airport and is nosed off the road by...his Bentley. This doesn't seem the time to bring up the obvious safety hazards of a great, socking Bentley pushing a teeny, tiny Mini off into the grass verge, but may I point out that airbags didn't become standard for luxury cars until 1987. A Mini is not a luxury car.
Raf you're not dead! I love you!
See, I told you that would fix everything!
The End


Rating: I can't say that the title rang a bell so I won't pretend that it's super memorable but I like it quite well (and, no, I am not damning with faint praise). It's not first tier material but a solid, solid boeuf en croute. It's got a plane crash and implied carnage, for pity's sake, that Betty doesn't let us dwell even a minute on. She wasn't the kind of author to waste precious ink on giving her gentle readers a brow pucker for the 100 or so strangers who have just perished on an Alpine pass just so that Raf and Kate could kiss in romantic dishevelment. And I love her for it.

Food: cheese sandwiches (not warmed over?), lots and lots of what I call 'Italics food' (wherein all potatoes are Pommes and all chicken is Poulet--for instance pommes de terre Berny and poulard Imperatrice) cavier, Welsh rarebit, apricot brulee

Fashion: Sapphire silk jersey dress, amber and brown organza with balloon sleeves (which only ever looks right on Amazons--us Aramintas had better watch how often we invite comparisons to balloons), a brown marabou stole (which seems fussy), Raynes shoes, a tawny cotton voile, her wedding outfit includes a leghorn hat and a thick slub silk dress (seeing slub silk before I die is now on my bucket list), and he wears a heavy signet ring just like pre-corpulent Marlon Brando!