A Girl Named Rose--1986

Dear Betty Neels, I just don't know if it can get any better than this. A Girl Named Rose is a delight and a treasure. I'm going to bury it in an old glass Mason jar in my backyard for future generations to dig up and discover. Or maybe I should rip up a copy and lovingly wallpaper my bathroom with the text--to be read several times a day by one and all while I have a captive audience. Sincerely yours (and prostrate in amazement), Betty Keira

I always think of Rose Comely as Gold Medalist Rose Comely. While all the other student nurses were being backed into the sluice room by flirtatious young housemen, Rose Comely, a plain and hard-working Martha, was conning for her tests. She would like to have been the one crowded into antiquated plumbing by a lusty doctor but chance is a fine thing.
She has a great many friends but, since the death of her parents and subsequent remarriage of a wicked step-mother, she only has Aunt Millicent and her faithful handmaiden Maggie to go home to.
While taking a package tour in Holland, she and Sadie (cute as a button and no moral compass) take shelter from a sudden storm by knocking on the door of a house at random. Mr. Sybren Werdmer ter Sane offers them tea, leers suggestively at Sadie (happily leering back) and gives Rose little jobs like pouring out and fading into the background.
The heavens stop raining and Sybren (I am not typing out that whole name even if Rose adheres to it rather rigorously.) helps Miss Fancy Britches on with her coat. Turning away from the vision of her loveliness to perform the same service for Rose (Whom, despite acting as mother for the tea party, it never entered his mind to help first.), he finds that she has helped herself.
This is nothing less than the summation of Rose, her personality and her lot in life.
Rose, acting as sort of the designated driver of the group of 6 nurses, returns home to England and St. Bride's wondering if Sybren is single--which is strangely muddled up with her desire to not be so plain and wishing she weren't quite so lonely.
Editorial Note: Which is not to say that she is unhappy. Rose is one of those Neels heroines who hoard their half loaf--making do with what they've got and being just the teensiest bit afraid of risking even that. Her plan is to stay in her proscribed little circle and make a heaven of it.
But then Sybren comes to St. Bride's. He's there to take Sadie back to Holland with him to nurse his godson. Little Duert has a skull fracture, his British mother Chrissy is due any day with her second child and frantic with worry, and maybe, Sybren thinks, a giggling and delightful (and hot) and most likely capable English-speaking nurse would take her mind off things.
But the SNO is having none of it. Sadie's alright but Rose is better. He'll have to take her or nothing.
But it seemed to me that she lacks a certain light-heartedness...
And Rose hears him say it.
She goes with him but she's wretched about it.
Sybren practically ignores her on the trip over and then has the effrontery to compliment her on her low-maintenance companionship. At the Dutch hospital she meets the Chrissy and Duert ter Brandt (Not Once But Twice) and little Duert and slips seamlessly into place--instantly becoming the prop that Chrissy needs in a way Sadie could not.
Rose is not the Gold Medalist because she spent all her time knowing the right answer to the theoretical questions, she is also an amazing nurse--caring for little Duert with a patience and doggedness that has more to do with her character than test scores.
And then one day she sees signs of life. Sybren is called and walks in on her singing Hey, Diddle, Diddle to the little fellow when he rouses enough to drowsily say, 'lickle dog'. She squeezes Sybren's hand resting on the cot.
Others are called and a stifled sort of excitement pervades the room. When everyone shuffles out again, Sybren hears the soft voice of Rose beginning Ride a Cock Horse. It is from this point that he starts to acknowledge that, try as he might, he can't seem to get her out of his mind.
When Little Duert is out of the woods Rose, who has had almost no free time and little outside contact, observes to Sybren that she's sorry that he got her when he wanted Sadie. She overheard him, she says. The blistering coldness that greets this statement is enough to freeze her bones.
Editorial Note: I'm not sure why she mentions it. I think by this time she might really like him enough to feel bad for him but maybe she just wants to underline the fact that her head hasn't been turned by him. For his part, he detests being reminded of his poor judgment.
When she is invited out by a doctor and his wife to spend an evening eating at their house and chatting over dinner, her simple delight at the prospect underlines her usually solitary days. She practically dances past Sybren on her way out and he is prompted to ask (after, no doubt, what he finds an annoying amount of thought given to it and to her) if she is not lonely.
She fibs. Of course she does. What did he expect to hear?
Yes, doctor, I am surrounded by dozens of people all day who wouldn't notice if I was hit by an articulated lorry as long as they had their temperature taken by someone in a starched cap. Yes, I'm lonely.
Unthinkable to say such a thing. Anyway, she saw him out on the town the night before and he couldn't possibly understand.
Little Duert is finally well enough to go home and Rose gets to go along for a few weeks until he's entirely fit. Before one of her very first days off Sybren asks her plans.
I'm going to Amsterdam. On a train. Because I want to. I like being by myself. I'd rather be by myself.
She's closed every loophole she can think of and even if he did sort of ask her on a date it was done in such a you-can't-be-trusted-to-sight-see-by-yourself sort of way that I can't blame her for misunderstanding. He wanted to be with her--maybe to blow away this lingering madness that makes him see her under his eyelids at night--and phrases it in a way that costs him nothing and risks none of his pride. She hears that she is just another dreary responsibility to be taken care of.
When he tells her that if she won't accept company to at least avoid lingering in Dam Square she has no other option than to start busking INXS cover songs or set up a kabob cart in the center of the aforementioned.
But would this be a Betty Neels book if she got away with it scot free?
Nope. No nope-y nope nope no.
Some Dutch hooligans form a circle around her and Sybren (conveniently driving past) throws his car into park, parts the Red Sea and plucks her out of danger. He is angry and in a mood to chew her out but, though he is entirely in the right, she refuses to come undone.
Thank you. Now I'm going to the Rijksmuseum... She took his hand gently from her arm. Goodbye, Mr. Werdmer ter Sane.
It's that 'gently' that probably makes him mutter Dutch oaths at her retreating back.
A few days later he stops in to see Little Duert and drops the anvil. The toddler is well again. You should leave.
But having come to exorcise her from his life once and for all, he finds himself saying (in a kind of lost manner), 'I suppose I shall always be Sir to you, Rose. I wish...' A telephone call from Mies the Merciless (your standard issue Dutch society miss with a penchant for long walks on the beach, crushing the dreams of a poor orphan girl and returning volleys with a really wicked backhand) has interrupted them...not for the last time.
Chrissy and Big Duert (who have totally read the situation correctly: Brit nurse is so in love with Dutch doc but doesn't know it yet) take her out for one last dinner where they spot Sybren and Mies at another table. Sybren is probably clenching and unclenching his hands at just how remarkable fate is.
Rose returns to England where she spends a few days with Aunt Millicent. It is on the last day, while pegging some laundry up that she hears a creak at the gate. She looks up and when she sees that it is not Sybren (whom she had no reason to expect) she also realizes the depth of her disappointment. Ah. So this is love.
Editorial Note: This dawning realization is one of the best in all of Neelsdom--triggered as it is by something so common as someone walking through a gate and knowing, at last, that it is the wrong someone. Bravo, Betty.
She returns to St. Bride's with a little less bounce in her step but she's determined (as Rose always is) to buck up and move along. She's doing fairly well, too, and then Sybren returns to St. Bride's. He's confused and irritated with himself for dropping everything so quickly when he's asked to come over for a consultation. He found himself nearly tripping over himself in his hurry to see Rose again even though he is still unable to admit to any feeling stronger than preoccupation and unhealthy obsession.
His greeting is tight-lipped and he throttles his first impulse to take her out on the town for dinner. But when he runs into her at the end of a long day (as she is fetching a bag of baked potatoes for a belated dinner--so much more humble than the one he would have taken her to or the one he subsequently enjoyed with a nubile young thing) he is almost shattered with a desire to scoop her up and shower his wealth on her person. Why he doesn't recognize this as love is beyond me--maybe he's got a peptic ulcer he can ascribe it to.
His consultation is successful and he afterwards asks Rose to come with him for high tea--lowering himself to coerce her by asking her to talk over the operation. High tea at a bourgeois eatery is...(Oh dear. Betty Keira, don't do it. I must!)...not his cup of tea but even he is shocked by how much he enjoyed it.
Some little time later, Rose comes to Holland to visit the ter Brandt family after refusing a lift from Sybren (if he's not interested in saving himself from her then she'll save him herself). They meet again and we find that the intervening time has cleared his mind.
She said with desperate chattiness, 'Are you on holiday too?'
'No.' He looked at her. 'I like your hair like that.' He sighed gently. 'I always thought of you as rather a plain girl, but I see that I was wrong.'
Sounds like someone has been dining on an exclusive diet of dawning realization...
He has to run off to make a dinner date with Mies (Noooooooooo!), but if Rose would be willing to meet him the following day...
She comes to his house--a return to the scene of their first meeting and what a difference a few months make. They have an enchanted day together. He takes her on The Home Tour of Undying Love and at its conclusion, when emotions are understandably running high (Think of all those William and Mary settees!), he proposes...ish.
Rose, what would you say if I were to tell you that I want to get married?
What sort of proposal-ish is that? A terrified and uncertain one, that's what.
Rose sits as still as a poker and it only needs the tiniest nudge to send her into his arms. Fate unkindly nudges her in the other direction with a phone call.
Sybren swears 'ferociously' (I'll bet.) and takes it. The upshot is that he must leave. On his way out the door he tosses a hand grenade over his shoulder. 'It's only fair to tell you that that was Mies.'
Rose is shaken but stays where he left her. Surely he will return to explain? Instead, she receives a phone call (Phone calls from Mies are like acid rain, falling on the innocent and guilty alike with alarming frequency.).
Mies: Sybren is so busy proposing marriage to me that he can't come to the phone and tell you that he wishes you'd just go home already. We're celebrating! I'm sure you'll agree that this behavior is not out of character at all...
Rose returns to the ter Brandt's alone and in a rare rage unalleviated by Sybren's remark (the next day) that he didn't get home until morning! Her fury at being used leads to some hasty words and she finds herself back in England without anything being cleared up. Poor Sybren had been called to operate on the fateful night and doesn't understand any of it.
St. Bride's looks more dire than usual and a blight by the name of Percy Pride (new houseman) has taken up residence. He chats Rose up out of boredom and ego inflation and she very kindly agrees to go on a date with him. Enter Sybren --all his travel can't be good for his carbon footprint ;0) . He takes Percy's number immediately, dangles an invitation to lunch in front of the poor Brit nurse's nose, and awaits catastrophe. After being marched through the mummy section of the British museum, given an inadequate snack, and propositioned (I have a key to a friend's flat which has a rip in the space-time continuum which will deposit us in Brighton!), seeing Sybren at the hospital is the last straw. It really is.
He kindly whisks her out to that fabulous meal that he referred to earlier. Her bonhomie is restored, her tummy is filled and then he goes and ruins it by reminding her that any other girl would have had enough experience with men to know that Percy was the kind to suck her into an inter-dimensional vortex.
And you have no need to remind me--haven't I been told since I was a teenager that I was plain--homely was the word my stepmother used and she was so right--men don't make passes at homely girls, only when there's no one else available I suppose...You should know that.
Being forgotten for Mies still rankles--will always rankle--and Rose has had a simply grotty day. He'll have to charge the hill tomorrow.
Tomorrow there's an explosion and her whole ward nearly collapses out from under her. But she's heroic, Percy's a worm and Sybren kicks some doors down to save the day. When she faints at the end of it he kicks through another door to get her to her bed.
Sybren gets a chance when all the chaos is cleared to ask Rose if she wants him to go away.
Yes.
She is sent home on her off days and Sybren walks into her garden (like she hoped he would way back at the DR! He flipped a U-turn on the expressway and drove back to her).
Rose, do you really want me to go away?
Yes.
He does but this time he's determined to run Mies to ground. What does she know and when did she know it?
Sybren comes to England once more, stuffs Rose into his Rolls and takes off for the motorway. Explanations and declarations.
Where is a lay-by when you need one!!
The End

Rating: You already know that this is a lashings of whipped cream for me. Rose isn't even trying to reach for the moon and does her best to let Sybren go ahead with the Misadventure of Mies. Sybren's slow-growing affection is such a charming thing to watch. He meets her and vaguely pities her in an off-hand way. Another meeting and it's shifted to annoyance. Still more and we watch him struggle with grudging admiration and then he can't get her out of his head (and you know he's trying). Before he knows it he's swimming upstream against the current of delight at everything she does and desperately attempting to maintain his dignity when what he wants to do is throw her over his shoulder and marry her out of hand.
Even the wrenches (Mies and Percy) are fun to read and there aren't so many of them that it becomes silly.
It is also super fun to meet the ter Brandt family again and Betty fleshes them out very nicely considering they're not primary characters and act as mere catalysts.

Food: Chips, shepherd's pie, milk pudding, asparagus salad with shrimp, roast partridge, meringue tartlets, chicken a' la King, spinach tartlets, lardy cake, hot baked potatoes, high tea, Dundee cake (Maggie's love language is 'cooking'), boiled eggs, ham broodjes, lager, potted shrimp, potato staws, orange ice cream and bread and butter pudding. On the Day of the Great Concatenation of Awfulness she is offered beans on toast, sponge cake and tea by Percy Pride and then taken out for mushrooms in cream sauce and lobster thermidor by the good doctor.

Fashion: Our heroine wears a cotton jersey, a plain blue linen dress--she wears and wears and wears a soft pink crepe calf-length number with a lower bosom and long sleeves. A printed lawn dress with a shawl collar comes streaking out of the mid-80s sky to ruin any pretense of timelessness. Rose also buys a few pastel T shirts (!) and a pleated cream skirt and cardigan set.
Mies the Brat wears an asymetrical red dress that I'm thinking belongs in Dynasty.
Chrissy ter Brandt wears luxurious housecoats (post-natal outfit de rigueur) and then shows up (astonishingly soon after delivery) in a silk dress that I must only assume has an elastic waistband and a stretchy bustline.

Damsel in Green - 1970

The Return of the Half-Dutch!!! An entire family of half-Dutch - including the hero this time. At least I'm pretty sure they're all half Dutch...the family tree explanation could have used a bit more exposition, but when you have a seven year old boy doing the explaining, you're lucky if anything is coherent.

The romance in Damsel in Green is pretty subtle...for me, this book was all about the Van den Berg Eyffert family (which I always read as Vandenberg Airforce Base). Betty gives us a rare glimpse into the hero's entire family. And it's a big one.

Georgina Rodman, age 23, has recently passed her State Examination to become a Staff Nurse. Everyone calls her George (I would too. I once knew a woman that we called George. Her real name was Kay - her nickname had to do with what she looked like without her wig on, but I digress). I can't quite decide what her type is, so I guess I'll peg her as an Outlier. She's medium height, good-looking (but not pretty), long, fine, silky light brown hair...and a little plump. Her hair sounds like the kind that is constantly getting static. She was orphaned at age 9 (parents died of the flu - not an auto accident!) and spends her off-duty at polio stricken Great Aunt Polly's house...somewhere near Thaxted.

Julius Van den Berg Eyffert (33) is some sort of Professor/Doctor, but we never really find out what he specializes in - which is unusual. If I followed the family tree correctly, his father was Dutch and his mother was English. We meet him fairly early on in Cas because three of his young cousins were involved in an RTA. As his 7 year old cousin/ward Cornelius explains, there are 5 of them (cousin/wards)...and during the course of the book we get to know all of them.

The Story:

We are first introduced to Cor (Cornelius), Beatrix and Karel. Cor has suffered two broken legs, Beatrix has a possible concussion and needs a few stitches and Karel has a problem with his collarbone (evidently not too much of a problem as it is never mentioned again). Cousin Julius shows up and for a brief moment it seems as if this is a troubled family...Nope, they are truly a happy family. Despite the fact that between the six of them they have managed to lose five (5!) parents. And that doesn't count George's lost parents(totting up sums, that makes seven dead parents). It's risky to be a parent in Neeldom!

Julius plans to take Cor back to the family home (Dalmers Place ) near Debden (sounds like something you'd call my office: Deb's Den) which is only a hop, skip and a jump from Thaxted. They will need a nurse and George is just the nurse they want. She reluctantly agrees to go...even more reluctantly when Julius tells her that she is to wear her nurses uniform at all times when she is on duty...which you know will be practically all the time. She is even to wear it to meals. George asks, " May I know why - I mean about the uniform?" "No, you may not," he said blandly. George rides to Dalmers Place in the ambulance with Cor...then helps with the setting up of the Balkan Frame. For most of the rest of the book much of the "action" takes place around the Balkan Frame. Let's take a minute or two to become acquainted with the other inmates of Dalmers Place.

Karel: age 22. Currently attending Cambridge, but comes home for holidays and the odd weekend. He is half brother to Dimphena, Franz, Cornelius and Beatrix. Julius is his cousin. He does come on to George a little bit - in a puppyish sort of way.

Dimphena (also referred to as Phena): age 16. Has recently left school in preparation to going to what sounds like finishing school in Switzerland. Loves clothes, is helpful with little sister Beatrix. For a Christmas party she wears a pink velvet trouser suit.

Franz: age 12. Rides his bike to a nearby day school - because his father was Dutch and they don't believe in boarding school. He occasionally sits with Cor and does jigsaw puzzles. He plans to go to Cambridge when he's older.

Cornelius (aka Cor): age 7. He of the Balkan Frame. Despite the fact that he's a bed-bound 7 year old, he is surprisingly (and unrealistically) good-natured about it.

Beatrix: age 5ish. I didn't notice her age being given, but we do know that she's younger than Cornelius. She has an adorable bedroom and calls the dog Robby and the cats her "nightlights" because they lay on her bed when Cousin Julius isn't home...and their eyes glow. Editors Note: This is obviously fiction, because any 5 year old I've ever met would be scared of eyes that glow in the dark.

I think the most surprising thing for me about Damsel in Green is La Neels consistency in using the supporting characters. Even the couple who live in the teeny-tiny gatehouse, Mr. and Mrs. Legg, are given more than one glance.

Okay, okay, back to the story. George spends lots and lots of time caring for Cor and entertaining him and little sister Beatrix - around the Balkan Frame. She even goes so far as to let Beatrix accompany her on her afternoon walks...thus gleaning little nuggets about Cousin Julius. Christmas is closing in, so she and the kiddies (along with Dimphena and possibly Franz) spend weeks making Christmas decorations and hand painting cards - around the Balkan Frame. Query: Does anyone actually paint their own Christmas cards?? Even though this is evidently a posh house, all of their decorations are new and handmade. The boys insist that balloons are part of this decor. Balloons? Whatever.

George takes a day off and drives up to London to go Shopping. She buys herself a dark green velvet dress - with a white clerical collar and organdie cuffs. I keep trying to make this sound "come hither" and fail. She wears it to the Christmas party - after first showing seven year old Cor who remarks; "George, you're a smasher - Cor love a duck!" George reproves him - "...where did you learn that vulgar term?" He looked innocent. "Vulgar? Mr. Legg often says it."

She spoils much of the evening for herself by wearing her mother's rose diamond ring and letting everyone think she is engaged. Quite a silly thing to do...and Julius calls her on it before the evening is over. They end the evening drinking Damsel in Green...a Dutch liqueur. Julius pays George a compliment, "...You're a damsel, aren't you? And you're in green...and just as heady as the liqueur." Soon after this Julius has a conversation with her about his family. He asks her how she feels about her "job". "...I'm very fond of Cor and Beatrix - and Franz and Dimphena..." she says. He says, "You forgot Karel." "Karel? Oh, yes, They're like brothers and sisters." That's just what Julius wants to hear... As George heads out of the office Julius kisses her "without haste". She still hadn't found her tongue (I'm sure that doesn't mean what it sounds like) when he remarked "Your uniform isn't enough." He sounded resigned. You see...He wanted her in her uniform so that he wouldn't be too tempted to kiss her unexpectedly. I guess. George and Julius go to church together in the morning - in the Mini.

Since they're half-Dutch, it's time for some to-ing and fro-ing. As soon as Cor gets his casts off - no more Balkan Frame - they all pack up for a trip to the family home in Holland. This house is named Bergenstijn (hopefully not Dutch for B*** House). It's lovely and grand...lots of family come to visit and give George a bit of a once over. We get the BEST EVER (well, really it's the worst) name for girl - one of the maids is named...Pancratiana...and they call her Pankie for short(it just sounds like a disease -pancreatitis). George tells Julius that she's accepted a post as Night Sister in Casualty (after all, this job is just about over, and a girl needs to look to her future) she exclaims "It's - it's what I've always wanted!" So of course Julius has to invite Madame Defarge to the family gathering...a beautiful youngish widow, thin as a wand, who wears a silver trouser suit. Actually her name is Madame LeFabre but I always read it 'Defarge'...one evil villainess is pretty much the same as another -right? Her main contribution to the story is to pretend that Julius said it was okay for George and Beatrix to go skating...which is what they do and then NEARLY DIE!! Julius has a typically Neels reaction...he gets mad at George - George swears the kids to secrecy about Madame Defarge...but then...(remember, these kids are only 1/2 English)...the Dutch half spill the beans! Kiss kiss. I've been in love with you since we first met, but I had to be fair; I had to give you a chance to see what life with me would be like. You had to decide for yourself if you could be happy with my fabulous lifestyle and a ready made family of 4 partly grown kids (I guess Karel doesn't count). Well of course I could be happy with your fabulous lifestyle and the remarkably un-angsty kids, kiss kiss, The End.

Food: prawn cocktail, roast gosling, chocolate mousse, zambaglione, little bouchees filled with smoked salmon, haricots verts (?), potatoes noisettes.

Fashion: Savile Row tweeds, a delicious milk chocolate organza dress, deep orange sweater with elderly slacks, corduroy coat, cherry red dress (Beatrix).

Literature: George spends a lot of time reading aloud to the kiddies. She reads Faithful John, The Rose and the Ring by Thackery, The Tale of Benjamin Bunny by Beatrix Potter, and The Wind in the Willows.

Automobiles: Rolls Royce Silver Shadow Drophead Coupe, dark blue Aston-Martin, Mini

Fun Quote: "Your bosom is heaving too - so many girls don't have bosoms these days. I suppose it's the fashion." He sighed.

Rating: For sheer commitedness to an entire family I would dearly love to give this one a full lashings of whipped cream...but, sadly George just doesn't quite work for me. She's just a little too compliant...she's the one to tuck in everyone's children while the rest of the adults are whooping it up, watches the babies while the rest of the adults have tea and conversation, play games with the kiddies while rest of the adults pretty much ignore the children...I guess she's just a little too self-sacrificing for my taste. Sure, she gets a handsome,rich family man in the end, but she doesn't have a lot of fun getting there (the closest thing to a date she has is staying up late after the Christmas party and going ice skating - before the almost dying thing). I do like Julius - he mostly plays fair by her - gives her a chance to get to know the whole sitch and only occasionally waylays her with kisses (Question: Is kissing your employee without asking ethical? It seems not.) I think I'll have to settle for Boeuf en Croute on the strength of the sheer homeyness of the story.

Cross Over Characters: Yes! If you want to visit Dalmer's Place and company, you can find them all(plus a baby, 5 years later) in A Small Slice of Summer (not a favorite of mine -the heroine is called "Tishy").

The Convenient Wife--1990

Second year student nurse Venetia Forbes has had a very nasty accident in the woolies section of Woolworths. The old lady with the missing shoes sitting next to her keeps on patting the glass (embedded in her arm) further into her skin. She faints and then tosses her biscuits while being stitched up by a senior consultant brain surgeon...that's right. We're not even on page 10 and our heroine has committed relationship suicide. I love this book.

Our principles:

• She's a plucky and plain (The Araminta) heroine who lives with her granny whenever she manages to escape the nurses' home. Twenty-three (ish) with a handful of A-levels and broken dreams behind her, she is only a second-year student nurse at St. Jude's (in the East End which is code for run-down and bleak). She is actually called a jolie laide and has beautiful gray eyes.
  
• Professor Duert ter Laan-Luitinga is 35 and has a 17-year-old plot device...er...ward. (Beware the Neels ward. They bode ill.) He alternates between his home in Hampstead and another outside of Delft. He is loaded.

Plot:
This book really stretches out over a good deal of time He stitches her up. He drives her home. Her granny dies (leaving her utterly without family which begs a demographic question). He helps her out in his cold and aloof way. She visits with the professor's registrar's pregnant wife (which was quite fun to type) which leads to him taking her out a bit. They come across a piece of antique jewelry that she likes, made of amethysts. The store owner tells them a lovely, possibly fabricated--he is a capitalist--story about the original owners and some violets. Violets. This is called foreshadowing.
Her life on the ward is un-fun due to a hectoring staff nurse and when Duert proposes in the ward office we, along with our heroine, are allowed to savor a lovely petty feeling of payback. (Stick that in your sluice room and smoke it!)
He needs a babysitter for his plot device until she turns 18 and goes to America. In return she will get a home and family and security in her old age. (Did no one ever hear of IRAs?!)

But it all manages to make sense and before the week is out she's Mervrouw ter Laan-Luitinga. The registrar observes that she will probably run rings around Duert. Her wedding bouquet has violets in it (Foreshadowing!). Duert begins beautifully by dismissing her clothes, is off-hand about the wedding and suggests a stop in Leiden (to visit a patient!) on the way home on what should be their honeymoon. She wisely lets him dig his grave.

Outside of Delft we meet Anneta the Ward (not to be confused with Jabba the Hutt)--a lovely girl that practically has a neon sign situated above her head reading, "I am a plot device and will portend doom." Duert proceeds to neglect his wife terribly as evidenced by her taking up the art of tapestry. Whenever a Neels heroine stitches tapestries I am put in mind of Homer's Penelope--stitching twenty years while her idiot husband wanders back home. So, yeah, Venetia's tapestry is symbolic.

Why is my husband lamely neglecting me?

Anneta takes our heroine on a lot of shopping trips (This is not symbolic.) and she "repays dressing". But a fat lot of good it does her as Duert only takes her to parties full of crowds. He had obviously never spoken to our father on the subject of 'date night'. Venetia learns Dutch and how to drive a car without anyone bothering to notice. Anneta makes up a lot of suspicious dental appointments and the like which clearly point to trouble but Venetia would have to actually see a crack pipe and roll of dollar bills to become truly alarmed.

Duert, briefly coming out of his stupor enough to aid his wife, sends Anneta to Paris (no one good ever visits Paris) for a week and takes his wife off to visit Aunt Millicent on the coast in Salcombe. She looks like Miss Marple.

I detect with my Marple-vision that you are perfectly suited.

All is going swimmingly in Salcombe but on the return trip he stops in Leiden again for another patient and she gets forgotten! Passive-aggressive behavior and a row ensue! A row!

Four months later (yes, four! they potter along like that for four months!), Anneta is getting ready to go to off to America when Venetia discovers Jan the Rat (not to be confused with Jabba the Hutt) in the professor's garden meeting illicitly with the serial liar Anneta the Ward. In walks the professor. Anneta insinuates that Jan the Rat and Venetia the Patient have been "meeting".
Coldness.
Threats of suicide. (And you really wish Anneta would just do it already.)
Flight to Salcombe.
Anneta the Rat...er...Ward confesses her moral bankruptcy...from America.
Violet jewelry is produced.
Kissing!

Themes:
This was published in 1990, when Betty Neels was 80, and she has the cheek to say of the granny, "...she was way behind with modern ways and habits." At one point the professor asks Venetia if she is euphemistically (and I mean euphemistically) living with someone. Also, Venetia is being called upon to curb Anneta for her "wayward lifestyle"--which as far as I can tell includes wearing tight clothes and kissing cads on the street. Conclusion: I love Betty.

Rating:
You get to hear a lot about driving tours through England (take the exit at Oxford, skirt the city, drive toward Buford-upon Tyne...), menus (I'll cover that later) and shopping expeditions (only one of which puzzled me (when Venetia talks Anneta out of a tight black short dress and into a ruched electric blue "suitable" short dress...)). All this would be tedious except that Betty Debbie will be making all the food eventually.
The pacing is flawless and, happily, the emotions make sense. She's mad when she's supposed to be mad, resolute when she's supposed to be...etc., etc. Which all hearkens back to that vomiting in the Casualty room. Venetia is a heroine that makes sense. I love her. She makes this a boeuf en croute. The hero, for all my calling him an idiot, digs his way out of the hole he made quite nicely.