THE DUTCH HOUSE BOOK
ANN PATCHETT
The dutch house intro :
The first time our father brought Andrea to the Dutch House, Sandy, our
housekeeper, came to my sister’s room and told us to come downstairs.
“Your father has a friend he wants you to meet,” she said.
“Is it a work friend?” Maeve asked. She was older and so had a more
complex understanding of friendship.
Sandy considered the question. “I’d say not. Where’s your brother?”
“Window seat,” Maeve said.
Sandy had to pull the draperies back to find me.
“Why do you have to
close the drapes?”
I was reading. “Privacy,” I said, though at eight I had no notion of
privacy. I liked the word, and I liked the boxed-in feel the draperies gave
when they were closed.
As for the visitor, it was a mystery.
Our father didn’t have friends, at least
not the kind who came to the house late on a Saturday afternoon. I left my
secret spot and went to the top of the stairs to lie down on the rug that
covered the landing. I knew from experience I could see into the drawing
room by looking between the newel post and first baluster if I was on the
floor.
There was our father in front of the fireplace with a woman, and from
what I could tell they were studying the portraits of Mr. and Mrs.
VanHoebeek. I got up and went back to my sister’s room to make my
report. ..........................................
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