poking up and the lonely monument pointing to the sky.
Callie was impatient to move on. It was time to go to collect Marthe. She knew so much about her brothers, Jan and Piet, and her sister, Marie. Now she would be meeting them.
As they left the village, Aunt Phee went quiet. They drove down long lanes, straight and boring, with ruined buildings, and children stood by the road staring as if they’d never seen a
motor car before. They stopped overnight in Lille. Then they took the train east towards the coast and arrived in Bruges. It was just as she’d seen on Marthe’s postcards, with tall
buildings with stepped roofs just like Dalradnor. She knew the address was somewhere in Predikherenstraat but she couldn’t think of the number, she was so excited. They sat in the Markt
square sipping hot chocolate, looking up, waiting for the clock to chime on the tall tower.
‘We must buy lace and chocolates to take home with us,’ Aunt Phee smiled as they watched shoppers going past. ‘Then we can take a horse cab and tour round the canal and pretty
brick streets.’
‘Can we fetch Marthe first? She’ll know the best places and show us round.’
‘She’ll be at work.’
Callie was puzzled. How could she be at work when she was coming home? It was better not to say anything because Aunt Phee had been very snappy since that visit to the monument and was always in
a hurry.
They found the long street full of shops and tall houses. They asked in a little florist’s for the van Hooges and the woman pointed up the street. They knocked at the door but got no
answer so they wandered round the city admiring the cathedral and the Burg square, the quaint shops full of intricate lace tablecloths and collars, then stood on the canal bridges watching the
barges shunting down the water. They chose gifts and found a clean hotel. It was time to find somewhere to eat and Callie was tired.
‘Can’t we go back again?’
‘Now don’t go getting upset if Marthe isn’t there. It’s late. We’ll call on them in the morning before we leave.’
Callie was puzzled again. Hadn’t she sent the van Hooges a postcard telling them when they would arrive?
In the morning after breakfast, they called again and a woman opened the door. She was not smiling. ‘So you’ve come. I heard there were strangers at my door. Marthe is at work. She
stays at the doctor’s house. The references you gave her were excellent.’ There was a coolness in her voice when she spoke to Aunt Phee, but she saw Callie looking crestfallen.
‘You’d better come in.’ Her English was good. Callie was confused. References were what maids got when they left a house. Why did Marthe need references?
‘Can I go and see her?’ she asked in Flemish. Mrs van Hooge looked surprised.
‘No, dear, not when she is working, but she gave me a letter just in case you called. You speak very well, Callie.’ She smiled, handing her a note in an envelope.
Callie stared at her aunt. ‘Is she not coming back with us?’
There was a moment when no one spoke. The two women looked at each other and then at Callie. ‘She does not know?’ said Mrs van Hooge, folding her arms across her bosom in
disapproval.
‘No, I didn’t want to spoil her holiday. I will explain later. She got so attached . . .’
‘I can offer you some tea,’ Marthe’s mother said very politely but her eyes were angry. She turned to Callie and smiled. ‘You will always be welcome here, Callie. Marthe
is very sorry not to say goodbye. She misses you very much.’ She spoke in Flemish, knowing Aunt Phee would not understand.
‘I think we’d better be off Thank you for seeing us. I think you will agree it was time for Marthe to come home to her family.’
‘That was for her to decide in her own good time, Miss Faye. Timing is important.’
The atmosphere was uncomfortable as Aunt Phee hustled Callie out of the door. Her cheeks flushed as Callie began to cry. ‘Now don’t make a fuss
Callie was impatient to move on. It was time to go to collect Marthe. She knew so much about her brothers, Jan and Piet, and her sister, Marie. Now she would be meeting them.
As they left the village, Aunt Phee went quiet. They drove down long lanes, straight and boring, with ruined buildings, and children stood by the road staring as if they’d never seen a
motor car before. They stopped overnight in Lille. Then they took the train east towards the coast and arrived in Bruges. It was just as she’d seen on Marthe’s postcards, with tall
buildings with stepped roofs just like Dalradnor. She knew the address was somewhere in Predikherenstraat but she couldn’t think of the number, she was so excited. They sat in the Markt
square sipping hot chocolate, looking up, waiting for the clock to chime on the tall tower.
‘We must buy lace and chocolates to take home with us,’ Aunt Phee smiled as they watched shoppers going past. ‘Then we can take a horse cab and tour round the canal and pretty
brick streets.’
‘Can we fetch Marthe first? She’ll know the best places and show us round.’
‘She’ll be at work.’
Callie was puzzled. How could she be at work when she was coming home? It was better not to say anything because Aunt Phee had been very snappy since that visit to the monument and was always in
a hurry.
They found the long street full of shops and tall houses. They asked in a little florist’s for the van Hooges and the woman pointed up the street. They knocked at the door but got no
answer so they wandered round the city admiring the cathedral and the Burg square, the quaint shops full of intricate lace tablecloths and collars, then stood on the canal bridges watching the
barges shunting down the water. They chose gifts and found a clean hotel. It was time to find somewhere to eat and Callie was tired.
‘Can’t we go back again?’
‘Now don’t go getting upset if Marthe isn’t there. It’s late. We’ll call on them in the morning before we leave.’
Callie was puzzled again. Hadn’t she sent the van Hooges a postcard telling them when they would arrive?
In the morning after breakfast, they called again and a woman opened the door. She was not smiling. ‘So you’ve come. I heard there were strangers at my door. Marthe is at work. She
stays at the doctor’s house. The references you gave her were excellent.’ There was a coolness in her voice when she spoke to Aunt Phee, but she saw Callie looking crestfallen.
‘You’d better come in.’ Her English was good. Callie was confused. References were what maids got when they left a house. Why did Marthe need references?
‘Can I go and see her?’ she asked in Flemish. Mrs van Hooge looked surprised.
‘No, dear, not when she is working, but she gave me a letter just in case you called. You speak very well, Callie.’ She smiled, handing her a note in an envelope.
Callie stared at her aunt. ‘Is she not coming back with us?’
There was a moment when no one spoke. The two women looked at each other and then at Callie. ‘She does not know?’ said Mrs van Hooge, folding her arms across her bosom in
disapproval.
‘No, I didn’t want to spoil her holiday. I will explain later. She got so attached . . .’
‘I can offer you some tea,’ Marthe’s mother said very politely but her eyes were angry. She turned to Callie and smiled. ‘You will always be welcome here, Callie. Marthe
is very sorry not to say goodbye. She misses you very much.’ She spoke in Flemish, knowing Aunt Phee would not understand.
‘I think we’d better be off Thank you for seeing us. I think you will agree it was time for Marthe to come home to her family.’
‘That was for her to decide in her own good time, Miss Faye. Timing is important.’
The atmosphere was uncomfortable as Aunt Phee hustled Callie out of the door. Her cheeks flushed as Callie began to cry. ‘Now don’t make a fuss
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