part of the portrait. He was, as he called it, ‘blocking in’ the base colours for the background, edging towards the charcoal lines he had drawn on that first day when she had frozen for him. Strictly speaking, she wasn’t required, but, having done her chores, she usually contrived to call in at the studio. Sometimes the Master would get her to sit while he made sketches of her in his notebook, but she felt that he was doing this more out of politeness than anything. When she got up to go, he would growl at Pieter: ‘Conduct Miss Eeden home, Pieter, and no dallying on the way back!’ If Pieter wasn’t ready, Louise would go down to help Mistress Kathenka in the bar or kitchen, or wherever she was needed. In that way it would happen that she was often still there when Pieter came down. Kathenka would then say that she would be happier if Louise had a proper escort for the short walk home. But the walks weren’t always short. They would start out and, by tacit agreement, Louise would allow Pieter to walk behind her, in the role of disinterested escort, while in the public Markt. But once they were away from the crowds,Louise contrived reasons for visits to the town walls, or walks down to the Oosterport, where they could stand on the bridge under the wide sky, breathing the air and escaping the feeling of being perpetually trapped behind high walls. As soon as they were alone she would take his arm and she would think again of her tiny reed boats and how they pulled each other together in the rain barrel; of Father and his Jewish friend, of herself and Pieter. The fact that she was drawn to Pieter was a scientific phenomenon, the fulfilment of a natural law. When she imagined lying back on sun-warmed tiles watching the heavens roll, it was Pieter, not Father or Baruch, and certainly not Reynier, who was the unseen presence at her side.
Leaning over the bridge at the Oosterport, she told Pieter about their new telescope. She found that he knew quite a lot about astronomy.
One day he said: ‘It was when we were looking at the mountains on the moon through the Master’s telescope that he told me how Galileo had destroyed Aristotle’s theory of the heavenly bodies being perfect spheres.’ Silence. Pieter turned. Louise was looking at him. Something about it made him uneasy. He blundered on: ‘He n-n-noticed their shadows on the lunar surface …’ Louise put her hands on her hips and cocked her head to one side.
‘Pieter Kunst!’ she demanded. ‘Do you mean to say that all the time the Master was arguing with me for the divine truth of Aristotle’s outdated arguments, he was just pretending ? Do you mean to tell me that you knew this, and that you looked on without saying a word while I, poorinnocent that I was, was being so grossly deceived?’
Now Pieter really did look as if his strings had been cut. She half expected him to collapse into a heap of arms and legs. It was too much for Louise; she threw back her head and sent a peal of laughter speeding down the Schiekanaal that startled jackdaws into flight from the gatehouse roofs. A surprised member of the watch emerged from the gatehouse , saw her, and scratched his head. ‘Oh Pieter!’ she said, as a relieved Pieter re-assembled himself.
They talked about everything then: about astronomy, and painting, even about Spinoza and his strange ideas. Louise was never certain what Pieter really thought of these theories about God. He would ask her questions and even put her right when her arguments got lost in the sand. But when it came to his beliefs, his eyes would part-close, as they did when he was seeing pictures in his mind, and she would realise that he was thinking, as it were, with his artist’s eye, and she didn’t know how to follow him.
On one of their walks, they found themselves near the Begijnhof gate. Here they found the old beggar; he still remembered Pieter – and Kathenka’s special brew – and greeted them like a king and queen. The
Leaning over the bridge at the Oosterport, she told Pieter about their new telescope. She found that he knew quite a lot about astronomy.
One day he said: ‘It was when we were looking at the mountains on the moon through the Master’s telescope that he told me how Galileo had destroyed Aristotle’s theory of the heavenly bodies being perfect spheres.’ Silence. Pieter turned. Louise was looking at him. Something about it made him uneasy. He blundered on: ‘He n-n-noticed their shadows on the lunar surface …’ Louise put her hands on her hips and cocked her head to one side.
‘Pieter Kunst!’ she demanded. ‘Do you mean to say that all the time the Master was arguing with me for the divine truth of Aristotle’s outdated arguments, he was just pretending ? Do you mean to tell me that you knew this, and that you looked on without saying a word while I, poorinnocent that I was, was being so grossly deceived?’
Now Pieter really did look as if his strings had been cut. She half expected him to collapse into a heap of arms and legs. It was too much for Louise; she threw back her head and sent a peal of laughter speeding down the Schiekanaal that startled jackdaws into flight from the gatehouse roofs. A surprised member of the watch emerged from the gatehouse , saw her, and scratched his head. ‘Oh Pieter!’ she said, as a relieved Pieter re-assembled himself.
They talked about everything then: about astronomy, and painting, even about Spinoza and his strange ideas. Louise was never certain what Pieter really thought of these theories about God. He would ask her questions and even put her right when her arguments got lost in the sand. But when it came to his beliefs, his eyes would part-close, as they did when he was seeing pictures in his mind, and she would realise that he was thinking, as it were, with his artist’s eye, and she didn’t know how to follow him.
On one of their walks, they found themselves near the Begijnhof gate. Here they found the old beggar; he still remembered Pieter – and Kathenka’s special brew – and greeted them like a king and queen. The
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