Maybe it’s my abiding sense of loneliness or maybe it’s me adjusting my dreams to match reality. It takes so much effort to go through life alone. Maybe I’m accepting this proposal because it’s the best thing for me under the circumstances. Maybe I do love Evert somewhere deep in my heart. Otherwise, I would have asked for time to think it over.
I don’t really know. The only thing I know for sure is that I want someone in my life who’s there for me.
We’re in no rush to get to work. Evert is too much of a gentleman to try to go all the way so soon but we spend some time getting to know each other. Lying together in bed, he says, “If you start asking yourself later today or tomorrow what in God’s name you’ve done, I’ll understand.”
I stare at him in shock. “Do you think I said yes because of a moment of madness or something?”
“Perhaps. I know I took you by surprise.”
“The proposal was a surprise and I didn’t stop and think about it, but that’s a good sign. If you have to spend days thinking about it, you’ve probably got your answer.”
“That’s true. But still, if you have any second thoughts . . .”
I don’t have any second thoughts and we set the date for 28 December. It gives us only three weeks, just enough time to prepare for the ceremony.
For a few days after his proposal, Evert is cautious, almost nervous with me, as if he’s waiting for me to tell him it was all a huge mistake. With every day that passes, I’m more sure of my decision. I’m coming to see that there are different kinds of love: my fleeting infatuation with Govert, the overwhelming desire that bound me and Matthias, and the meeting of the minds I feel with Evert. No burning desire, no physical attraction confounding my decision-making but rather a feeling of familiarity and affection. That’s good enough for me, I can’t ask for more. And I don’t deserve more.
Our friends are delighted about our engagement. All and sundry come to wish us well.
“This is exactly what I’ve been hoping for,” says Angelika happily.
Even the workers at the pottery congratulate me, some more enthusiastically than others. Frans gives me a curt nod, Jacob leans back and looks at me in wonder. “So you’re marrying the boss,” he says. “Nicely done.”
I ignore both of them.
My first wedding was one big party that went on for days. In accordance with country tradition, I was first kidnapped by Govert, then taken back by my brothers, after which I had to formally declare my acceptance of Govert. After that the preparations for the wedding could begin, a party the whole village was invited to. We used the farmyard and the threshing floor for the celebration and there still wasn’t enough room. The cows were scared by the wild dancing, when everyone tried to make as big a racket as possible by banging and clattering whatever came to hand. At the end of the evening, Govert and I tried to sneak off but they were all keeping a close eye on us and we ended up being carried upstairs to our marriage bed on their shoulders to cheers and hoots. The biggest challenge was getting the revelers to leave, and it was only thanks to Govert’s height and broad shoulders that they didn’t give us a helping hand taking off our wedding clothes.
The day Evert and I say our vows, on a cold, sunny afternoon, is a quieter affair. People go all out for a first marriage; with second weddings they try to be a bit more discreet. I don’t mind, I don’t feel much like celebrating without my family there. I sent them an invitation but received the response that Delft was too far away and they couldn’t leave their duties for that long.
Evert is also struggling with the fact that only our friends are here. Even though he’s nothing but smiles all day, you can see the sadness in his eyes about what’s missing. Adriaan and Brigitta send their best wishes but don’t come.
“It’ll take them a while to get used to the fact that you’re marrying their former housekeeper,” I say in the coach on the way to the church.
“That’s their problem.” Evert kisses my hand. “For the first time in five years I’m happy again, and I’m not letting anyone take that away from me.”
The coach stops at the market, where friends and distant relatives of Evert’s are waiting by the entrance to the church. A big cheer goes up as I step down in my cornflower blue, lace-edged gown and for a moment I feel a little less alone. I walk into the church on Evert’s arm under a shower of petals. I had known he was well-liked in Delft, but only now do I see how well. Half the town seems to have come out, and those who haven’t been invited are standing in the market square to watch.
Once we’ve exchanged our wedding vows and the time comes to put a ring on each other’s finger, all the onlookers, inside and outside, applaud loudly.
A small number of guests are invited to join us for the wedding breakfast at the Mechelen Inn. There are speeches, toasts, jokes and anecdotes, followed by even more toasts.
My wedding night is as I expected, tender and restrained. Evert’s lovemaking doesn’t awaken the same wild lust in me as his brother’s. The next morning, I wake up early and spend a long time gazing at my husband’s face. He seems older now, sleeping on his back, with a double chin and bags under his eyes from many sleepless nights. His mouth is slightly open and he’s snoring gently.
I try to go back to sleep for a while. I don’t manage more than a brief doze. I can hear Anna clattering around in the kitchen, lighting the fire. She’s a quiet but hardworking woman whose husband died a year ago. She has two grown-up children who she doesn’t want to burden by giving up her job, which is why at sixty she’s doing all of Evert’s backbreaking household chores. Mine too. It wasn’t too long ago that I was a housekeeper, now I’ve got one of my own.
My thoughts immediately turn to Amsterdam, the house on Keizersgracht and then, involuntarily, to Matthias. I see his face before me, hear his voice as if I’d only just spoken to him. This stirs up a bittersweet pain. How is he going to react when he comes back and finds me married to his brother? Maybe he won’t care, maybe he doesn’t even think about me anymore.
“So,” says Jacob one morning when I come into the workshop and there’s only the two of us there. “You’re Mistress Van Nulandt now. How does it feel?”
“No different from when I was Barentsdochter.”
“I don’t believe that. It must be a strange feeling, having your employers as your in-laws,” he says, sniggering.
He’s right. Evert being my husband doesn’t feel strange in the least, but that I can now call Adriaan my brother-in-law and Brigitta my sister-in-law definitely does. Let alone Matthias.
“Good work, Catrin,” whispers Jacob in my ear. “I knew we were cut from the same cloth.”
Jacob isn’t the only one who has to get used to the situation. I’m the boss’s wife now and am treated according to this new position. Jokes of the type employees always make about their boss suddenly cease and no one dares complain when the work rate is too high or Evert tells someone off.
It’s only once they notice I never tell him about anything that goes on behind his back that the atmosphere returns to normal. We close down for Christmas and don’t work over New Year either. In keeping with tradition, the New Year is greeted with parties in the inns, bonfires and a great deal of noise intended to drive out evil spirits.
Children run all over town with rattles, drums and the lids of pots and pans, while teenagers and adults get out their rifles and shoot into the air with carbide charges and gunpowder, making for big bangs.
Rather than spending my New Year’s Eve with cups and plates, I spend it with Anna up to our ears in candied fruit, beer, fat and flour, making lardy cakes all day. They aren’t only meant for our friends but for the wassailers who go door to door on the first of January. Just like in De Rijp, it’s traditional for people to sing a New Year’s song or recite a proverb wishing good luck in exchange for something tasty or a few coppers.
I’d been expecting Angelika to drop in with the children, but they don’t come. I’ve hardly seen her since the wedding, even though we were speaking almost every day at first. It’s niggling me. I know something’s going on, I’m certain of it.
With my mind made up, I wrap a couple of the finished cakes in a cloth and go to see her. Angelika jumps when she finds me at the door.
“I’ve brought you a treat,” I say.
Katherine and Gertrude come hollering to greet me. Their mother quiets them, sounding flustered. I wink and give the girls a cake. An uneasy silence falls.
“I hope 1655 will be a more peaceful year,” I say.
“I hope it will be for you as well.” Angelika eyes me uncomfortably.
“Is something wrong?” I ask.
“No, not at all. I had a bad night, that’s all. The girls couldn’t sleep because of all the noise and just as they were going off, Allard woke for his feed.”
“I understand,” I say. “You get some rest.”
She nods, smiles and shuts the door.
The whole town is up all night; no one is even thinking about going to bed. That includes me and Evert, we’re going to the Mechelen Inn. Johannes comes over as soon as he sees me. He kisses my hand. “Catrin! It’s been far too long. How’s your leg? You’re walking again.”
“Yes, but it took some time. It started to seem like it was made of jelly,” I say. “And how are you?” I know he’s depressed after losing Carel.
“I’m fine. I have my work and life goes on. Although I have realized a few things.”
“Like what?”
“That life is too short and you mustn’t waste your time on earth. Painting is my passion, I trained for years and qualified as a master craftsman, and look how I spend my days.” He gestures at the bar. “Keeping an inn is a good job, but you can’t do anything else on the side. It’s one or the other and I’m longing to feel a brush in my hand again.”
“You’re going back to painting!”
“Yes. We’ve found someone to run the inn, and I’ve hired a workshop to turn into my studio. I can’t wait to get started.”
“Good.” I smile at him.
“Your painting lessons came to an abrupt end,” Johannes goes on. “If you’re looking for a new teacher . . .”
“That’s kind of you, but you don’t have the time. And I’m busy too. It feels strange not having a brush in my hand. Like I’m missing a finger.”
Johannes laughs. “Well, just remember: if you change your mind, you’re always welcome.”
“Wouldn’t Catherina object?”
“For the past few months, Catherina has been the happiest woman in the world.” His voice brims with pride and happiness.
I look over at his wife, who’s standing across the room. Her growing belly is clearly visible under her yellow smock.
“Congratulations!” I blurt out, surprised. “You’re going to be a father, how wonderful. When is the baby due?”
“Only three months to go now. We’ve lost a couple before, so we kept the pregnancy a secret for a long time.”
“Catherina is glowing.”
“Yes, she’s so happy. Miscarriages are hard, especially late in the pregnancy. It was a boy both times.” A shadow of grief passes over his face.
“I know all about that,” I say, but my words are lost as we’re buffeted by a line of dancers who form a ring around Johannes, putting an end to our conversation.
Angelika and Quentin have stayed at home with the children. They drop in on New Year’s Day to wish us the best. They don’t stay long.
“Are you and Quentin not getting along?” I ask Evert.
“No, but he has been very distant.” Evert takes a thoughtful sip of wine. “So you’ve noticed it too.”
“I barely see Angelika anymore. Could it have something to do with us getting married?”
“I can’t imagine that it would. They were more enthusiastic than anyone about it.”
“Then it’s something else, something we don’t know about. Should I ask Angelika?”
Evert shakes his head. “It isn’t necessarily anything to do with us. Perhaps they’re having problems themselves.”
“If they are, then I want to know that, too. They’re our friends!”
“Friendship means trusting that everything’s all right,” says Evert. “Leave them be. If they need us, they’ll come to us.”