Death of a Delft Blue

‘We saw the grotto at Maastricht,’ said Laura. ‘Is this one as good?’

Florian said, before his aunt could answer:

‘I shall go there with you this afternoon and you can judge for yourself.’ He glanced across at Dame Beatrice. ‘Just the two of us,’ he added.

‘No, no,’ exclaimed Opal. ‘This afternoon you return to Amsterdam for your sitting. His portrait-bust,’ she explained, turning to Laura. ‘Binnie is there to be with you and encourage you,’ she added to Florian.

‘That can wait,’ said Florian. ‘I did not know we should meet Mrs Gavin here.’

Laura felt certain that this was a lie, since she had heard Dame Beatrice outline her plans at the dinner in Amsterdam.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said firmly, ‘but I haven’t the slightest intention of visiting the grotto this afternoon. That also can wait.’ She gestured towards the table at which Dame Beatrice was working. ‘I may be needed, you see.’

‘Oh, I forgot you were in paid employment,’ said Florian, spitefully, and with his wolfish smile.

‘As it is paid,’ retorted Laura, ‘I feel that I must honour my obligations instead of rushing off without finding out whether my services are required. And now let’s have another drink. I think my emoluments will stand the strain. Same again for everybody?’

Florian got up, gave his chair an irritable shove which sent it cannoning into the table, and took himself off.

‘Spoilt,’ said Binnen. ‘I apologise on his behalf. He does not want to have his head done.’

‘No, he wants it looked at,’ thought Laura, ‘and then smacked.’ But she did not express these theories aloud. She ordered a round of drinks and the talk turned on the Colwyn-Welch plans for the immediate future. The professors had been forthcoming about their family history at the lunch which Dame Beatrice had attended at the close of the Conference, but the Colwyn-Welch women were even more agreeable to discussing their home affairs.

‘Now that there is this business of Binnie and Bernardo,’ said Binnen, taking an appreciative sip of her gin, ‘Florian will probably leave his grandfather’s house until after the wedding. He does not like Bernardo and has no wish to see dear little Binnie married.’

‘To Bernardo in particular?’ asked Laura.

‘That, of course, but he says he does not wish to see her married at all. He thinks that, at nineteen, she is not old enough to be married.’

‘Our uncle van Zestien is in favour of the match,’ said Opal. ‘There is money in the Rose family. Our cousin, Maarte van Zestien, married Bernardo’s father, Sigismund Rose, and that with the full approval of both families. Diamonds, you see. The two businesses are connected.’

‘Diamonds are all very well,’ said Binnen, ‘but they do not grow, as bulbs do. There is money in bulbs, just as there is in diamonds, but a nicer way to earn it.’ She went on to talk of bulbs, bulb-growing and bulb marketing. When she paused, her daughter Opal said:

‘To me, Florian is like the flower of the hyacinth.’

‘Yes, a Delft Blue,’ agreed her sister. ‘That is why I would have preferred a painted portrait rather than a piece of sculpture. If we could find a good painter, I would pay for the portrait myself, if I could possibly afford it.’

‘No, no! A bust gives a much better likeness,’ protested Opal. ‘Besides, our mother, who is paying, prefers a bust, do you not, Mamma? But I wish to pay.’

‘While I live you have only what I am good enough to give you out of your father’s money,’ said Binnen. ‘After my death, you will have a fortune, both of you. If you sell my bulb-fields… as I suppose you will… you may even have quite a large fortune. I do not know what the land and goodwill may fetch, but my brother, your uncle Bernard van Zestien, will help you. Our family business was in bulbs until Bernard sold his share and went into the diamond trade, but he still understands our tulips and hyacinths and, to a lesser extent, our crocuses, daffodils and gladioli. You will go to him for advice.’

‘Yes, of course, Mamma,’ said Ruby; but Opal merely shrugged, as though in complete disagreement with this counsel. Almost immediately after this, lunch was announced. The Colwyn-Welch family moved away and Laura waited beside Dame Beatrice while the latter finished off a paragraph.

‘It was kind of you to side-track our friends,’ she said, putting her work together. ‘I shall leave this now, and go on with it this afternoon while you are out. I gather that you do not propose to avail yourself of Mr Florian’s invitation to take you to visit the grotto.’

‘I can’t stand the beautiful boy!’ said Laura. ‘Unless he smiles, he reminds me of a Harold Copping drawing in a religious book for kids… charming to look at, but remote from life as it has to be lived, and from boys as one knows they really are — thugs and criminals, for the most part — criminals, anyway.’

‘Dear me!’ said Dame Beatrice, ‘I hope we do not need to include Hamish!’

‘He’s a thug,’ declared his mother, ‘and will be a criminal as soon as he is old enough to know right from wrong.’

Immediately after lunch, during which she perceived that Florian had rejoined his relatives, Laura set off to visit the Knight’s Castle. She did not find the restored edifice particularly interesting, but she enjoyed the view and decided to mount the Wilhelmina Tower in order to obtain an even wider impression of the undoubtedly beautiful countryside.

She took the chair-lift to the top of the tower and was astonished, and not at all delighted, to find Binnie, among other visitors, in possession of the view. Binnie came to the subject which, apparently, was exercising her mind to the exclusion of much else.

‘I say!’ she exclaimed. ‘I did hope you’d be here! I’m so glad you’re not with your little old lady. She absolutely terrifies me! I say, you do think I’m doing the right thing in marrying Bernardo, don’t you? You see, it’s such a sensible arrangement. I do wish Florian wouldn’t be so sticky about it. After all, I can’t remain a spinster all my life, can I?’