murmuring in a foreign language. But they spoke English well enough when her father came into the shop, passing the time of day with him as they continued their leisurely progress.
They stopped abruptly when they saw the screen, right at the back of the shop. For two calm, elderly gentlemen they exhibited a sudden interest tinged with excitement. There was no need for her father to describe it to them; it seemed that they knew as much about it as he did, possibly more. They examined it at length and with great care, asked its price, and without further argument took out a chequebook.
‘I must explain,’ said one gentleman, and Daisy edged nearer so as not to miss a word. ‘This screen— you tell me that you bought it at an auction at the Kings Poulton estate? I must tell you that an ancestress of ours married a member of the family in the eighteenth century and brought this screen with her as part of her dowry. It was made especially for her. You will have seen the initials at the edge of the border—her initials. When we were last in England we enquired about it but were told that it had been destroyed in the fire they had some years ago. You can imagine our delight in discovering that it is safe—and in such splendid condition.’
‘You must thank my daughter for that,’ said Mr Gillard. ‘It was in a shocking state.’
The three of them turned and looked at her. She smiled nicely at them, for the two elderly gentlemen were friendly, and she was intrigued by the screen’s history and the chance discovery they had made of it. ‘It is very beautiful,’she said. ‘I don’t know where you live, but you’ll need to be very careful with it; it’s fragile…’
‘It must return, of course, to our home in Holland— near Amsterdam. And we can assure you, young lady, that it will be transported with great care.’
‘In a van, properly packed,’ said Daisy.
The elder of the two gentlemen, the one with the forbidding nose and flowing moustache, said meekly, ‘Most certainly, and with a reliable courier.’He paused, and then exchanged a look with his companion.
‘Perhaps you would undertake the task of bringing the screen to Holland, young lady? Since you have restored it you will know best how it should be handled, and possibly you will remain for a brief period to ensure that no harm has come to it on the journey.’
‘Me?’ Daisy sounded doubtful. ‘Well, of course I’d love to do that, but I’m not an expert, or qualified or anything like that.’
‘But you would do this if we ask you?’
She glanced at her father.
‘A good idea, Daisy, and you are perfectly capable of doing it. You’ll need a day for travelling, and another day for the return journey, and a day or two to check that everything is as it should be.’
‘Very well, I’ll be glad to do that. I’ll need a couple of days in which to pack the screen…’
The moustached gentleman offered a hand. ‘Thank you. If we may return in the morning and discuss the details? I am Heer van der Breek.’
Daisy took the hand. ‘Daisy Gillard. I’m glad you found your screen.’
His companion shook hands too, and then they bade her father goodbye.
When they had gone, Daisy said, ‘You’re sure I can do it? I can’t speak Dutch, Father.’
‘No problem, and of course you can do it, a sensible girl like you, my dear. Besides, while you’re there you can go to Heer Friske’s shop in Amsterdam—remember he wrote and told me that he had a Georgian wine cooler I might be interested in? Colonel Gibbs has been wanting one, and if you think it’s a genuine piece you might buy it and bring it back with you.’
‘Where will I stay?’ asked the practical Daisy.
‘Oh, there must be plenty of small hotels—he will probably know of one.’
It was surprising how quickly matters were arranged. In rather less than a week Daisy found herself sitting beside the driver of the small van housing the screen on her way to Holland. She had money, her passport, and directions in her handbag, a travelling bag stuffed with everything necessary for a few days’ stay in that country, and all the documents necessary for a trouble-free journey. She was to stay at Meneer van der Breek’s house and oversee the unpacking of the screen and its installation, and from there she was to go to Amsterdam and present herself at Mijnheer Friske’s shop. A small hotel close by had been found for her and she was to stay as long as it was necessary. Two or three days should be sufficient, her father had told her.
Excited under her calm exterior, Daisy settled back to enjoy her trip. Her companion was of a friendly disposition, pleased to have company, and before long she was listening with a sympathetic ear to his disappointment at missing his eldest daughter’s birthday. ‘Though I’ll buy her something smashing in Amsterdam,’ he assured her. ‘This kind of job is too well paid to refuse.’
They crossed on the overnight ferry, and since Mijnheer van der Breek had made all the arrangements for their journey it went without a hitch and in comfort.
It was raining when they disembarked in the early morning, and Daisy, looking around her, reflected that this flat and damp landscape wasn’t at all what she had expected. But presently there was a watery winter sun, and the built-up areas were left behind. They stopped for coffee, and then drove on.
‘Loenen aan de Vecht,’ said the driver. ‘The other side of Amsterdam on the way to Utrecht. Not far now—we turn off the motorway soon.’
He bypassed Amsterdam and emerged into quiet countryside, and presently onto a country road running beside a river. ‘The Vecht,’ said Daisy, poring over the map.
It was a delightful road, tree-lined, with here and there a pleasant house tucked away. On the opposite bank there were more houses—rather grand gentlemen’s residences, with sweeping lawns bordering the water and surrounded by trees and shrubs.
Before long they came to a bridge and crossed it.
‘Is it here?’ asked Daisy. ‘One of these houses? They’re rather splendid…’
They turned in through wrought-iron gates and drew up before an imposing doorway reached by stone steps. There were rows of orderly windows with heavy shutters and gabled roofs above the house’s solid face, and an enormous bell-pull beside the door. Daisy got out and looked around her with knowledgeable eyes. Seventeenth-century, she guessed, and probably older than that round the back.
The driver had got out too and rung the bell; they could hear its sonorous clanging somewhere in the depths of the house. Presently the door was opened by a stout man, and Daisy handed over the letter Mijnheer van der Breek had given her in England.
Invited to step inside, she did so, prudently asking the driver to stay with the van, and was led down a long, gloomy hall to big double doors at its end. The stout man flung them open and crossed the large and equally gloomy apartment to where Mijnheer van der Breek sat. He handed him the letter and waved Daisy forward.
Mijnheer van der Breek got up, shook hands with her and asked, ‘You have the screen? Splendid. It is unfortunate that my brother is indisposed, otherwise he would have shared my pleasure at your arrival.’
‘It’s outside in the van,’said Daisy. ‘If you would tell me where you want it put the driver and I will see to it.’
‘No, no, young lady. Cor shall help the man. Although you must supervise its removal, of course. We have decided that we want it in the salon. When it has been brought there I will come personally and say where it is to go.’
Daisy would have liked five minutes’ leisure, preferably with a pot of tea, but it seemed that she wasn’t to get it. She went back to the van, this time with Cor, and watched while the men took the screen from the van and carried it carefully into the house. More double doors on one side of the hall had been opened, and she followed them into the room beyond. It was large and lofty, with tall narrow windows heavily swathed in crimson velvet curtains. The furniture was antique,