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Cook blew her nose and wiped her eyes. ‘You mean that. Miss Cordelia? Then don’t leave it too long, will you? I’ve been thinking of leaving these last few months, but I’m getting on a bit and there aren’t many jobs going…’
Cordelia took her hands in hers. ‘That’s a promise, Cook. Now I must go.’
She carried her case down to the front door after breakfast, Lady Trescombe had said the car would be there at half-past nine and it was exactly that time. She picked up her case and went outside and the elderly man sitting behind the wheel of a Daimler motor car, got out and took it from her with a cheerful: ‘Good morning, Miss. I’m Bates, the chauffeur.’ He cast an eye over her neat, unspectacular person and smiled very kindly at her. ‘Welcome to Lady Trescombe’s household.’ He held the door of the car open but Cordelia hesitated: ‘May I sit in front with you, Bates? You see, I don’t know much about anything. I don’t mean to pry, but it would be a great help if you could tell me a little about Lady Trescombe and her granddaughter—it’s the first time I’ve had a job you see, and I’m not sure about things…’
Bates shut the car door and ushered her into the seat beside his. ‘Well, now, Miss, where shall I start?’ He started the car and drove smoothly away and Cordelia didn’t look back.
By the time they were nearing Guildford she knew quite a lot; Lady Trescombe was the finest lady anyone could work for; not strong but always kind and good tempered. As for the staff, there was himself, his wife who cooked for them all, Elsie the parlour maid who also looked after Lady Trescombe, and Mrs Trump and Miss Gage who came in daily. ‘And then there’s you Miss and our Miss Eileen. A very nice little girl—a bit lively as you might say, but she being the only one is used to having her own way. You like children, Miss?’
‘Yes, Bates, I do.’ She thought briefly of the twins whom she would so gladly have loved if only they had let her. ‘I hope we shall get on well together.’
They were on the outskirts of Guildford now, bypassing the town and going beyond it into the countryside once more. They were almost on the edge of a small village when Bates swinging the car between brick gate posts went, more slowly now, up a short drive to a pleasant red brick house, old and beautifully maintained, it’s latticed windows shining in the sunshine.
Cordelia had been sternly suppressing panic for the last few miles and all for nothing; nothing could have been kinder than her reception as she went through the door held open by Bates.
It was Mrs Bates, short, stout and cheerful, who trotted into the hall, closely followed by Lady Trescombe and in the little flurry of greetings and instructions about her luggage and the urging into the sitting room where coffee was waiting, she forgot her panic. Presently, when she had drunk her coffee while Lady Trescombe chatted about nothing in particular, she was taken up the oak staircase to a room at the back of the house so that she might unpack and settle in, as Mrs Bates cosily put it.
Alone, Cordelia sat down on the edge of the bed and looked around her. The room was square, neither too big nor too small, with a wide latticed window and a low beamed ceiling. It was furnished simply but with great comfort with well polished oak and flowery chintz. There was a thick quilt on the bed and a small easy chair upholstered in pink velvet by the fireplace as well as a writing desk under the window and flowers and books on the bedside table. She took it all in slowly; after the bare austerity of her own bedroom this was heaven indeed. She went over to the cupboard along one wall and peered into its roomy interior; her clothes would be swallowed up in it. There was a bathroom too, pale pink, with thick fluffy towels and a shelf filled with soaps and bath salts. Cordelia shut her eyes and then opened them again, just to make sure that she wasn’t dreaming.
It was real enough; she gave a long happy sigh and unpacked.
When she went downstairs again she found Lady Trescombe sitting in the drawing room where they had had coffee. She would have to ask just what her duties were and what better than to do it at once? Only she wasn’t given the chance. Lady Trescombe put down the book she was reading and smiled at her.
‘I thought it might be best for you to go into the garden and meet Eileen on your own. She will be at the very end, behind the beech hedge I expect. She knows that you will be accompanying us to Vienna but I didn’t tell her you would be coming today. And may I call you Cordelia?’
‘Of course, Lady Trescombe, and I’d like Eileen to call me that too, if you don’t mind.’
‘I think it a very good idea. Get to know each other today and tomorrow we’ll work out some kind of routine. You will want to go shopping—perhaps in two or three days time? Did I tell you how we are travelling?’
Cordelia shook her head. ‘No, Lady Trescombe.’
‘We fly to Munich and take a small cruise ship down the Danube. A slow way to get to Vienna perhaps, but we shall have a week to get to know each other and if Eileen is feeling doubtful about meeting her uncle and her life with him, you will have the opportunity to reassure her. I should warn you that I intend to do nothing during the week; I shall rely upon you to entertain Eileen and keep her happy; we shall meet for lunch and dinner of course, but I shall put you in sole charge.’
She gave Cordelia a questioning look as she spoke and Cordelia returned the look calmly; if Lady Trescombe was hinting delicately that Eileen was going to be difficult she refused to let it fluster her; no one, she considered, could be more difficult than her own stepsister; if she could emerge unscathed from a number of years of dealing with tantrums and rudeness and not be paid for it either, then she could certainly cope with Eileen. She stood up. ‘I’ll go and meet her now, shall I?’
The french windows were open on to the garden beyond and she strolled off, making for the beech hedge in as casual a manner as she could manage. She had no doubt that Lady Trescombe would be watching from the house to see if she were showing any signs of nerves. She reached the beech hedge and went, still unhurriedly, beyond it and, just as Lady Trescombe had said, found Eileen lying on the grass reading.
She hadn’t heard Cordelia, so there was time to study her; she was tall for her age, Cordelia judged, and slim to the point of thinness. She had an untidy mane of dark curly hair and denim trousers and a cotton top which she wore, although crumpled, were exactly what a clothes conscious child of her age would choose.
Cordelia couldn’t see her face; she stepped heavily and deliberately on to the paved path between the hedge and the child looked up. She had been crying, evident from puffed eyelids and a pink nose, neither of which could disguise a pretty face. But the scowl on it wasn’t pretty as she jumped to her feet.
‘Who are you?’ she demanded, and then: ‘You’re the governess Granny said she’d found. Well, I’m not going to like you for a start…’
Cordelia didn’t smile. She said coolly. ‘I’ve lived most of my life with two stepsisters and two stepbrothers and none of them liked me. I’m a bit disappointed that you won’t even give me a trial, but I admire your honesty. Only I think you at least owe me an explanation as to why you’re crying. Because of me?’
‘No, of course not. I didn’t know what you’d be like, did I?’
‘That’s something. Do you want to tell me?’
Eileen stared at her. ‘You’re not a bit what I thought you’d be.’
Cordelia made herself comfortable on a tree stump. ‘What did you expect?’
‘Well—someone old and plain and cross.’
‘I’m plain but I’m not that old and I don’t think I’m often cross, suppose you give me a trial?’
Eileen looked surprised. ‘Well—all right. Do you really want to know why I was crying?’ She added fiercely. ‘I don’t cry much.’
‘Yes, I’d like to know. I’m not curious, mind you—but perhaps, seeing that I’m a complete stranger, I might be able to help a bit.’
‘It’s going away from here and Granny. Mummy and Daddy won’t be coming home for two months and now Uncle Charles says she must have a rest from looking after me and so I have to go and live with him in Vienna until they come home. There’s no one else you see.’
‘You don’t like your Uncle?’
‘I don’t remember him. He’s a surgeon and he’s always busy, I was a little girl when I saw him last, but I can’t remember him very well. He’s very large and quite old. I’ll have to be quiet in his house and I don’t suppose he’ll want to see me much…’
‘He sounds a bit dreary,’ agreed Cordelia, conjuring up a picture of a learned, slightly stooping gentleman, going bald, probably with a drooping moustache and a dislike of children, ‘but as long as we keep out of his way and don’t annoy him, I should think we’d quite enjoy ourselves. I’ve never been to Vienna but I believe it’s an exciting sort of place. Two months isn’t long, you know, and I daresay we’ll be able to fill in the days until your mother and father come home.’ Always supposing, she told herself silently, that uncle didn’t dislike her on sight and send her back to England.
Eileen gave her a childish grin. ‘I think perhaps I’ll like you,’ she observed. ‘Why didn’t your stepsisters and brothers like you?’
Cordelia pondered the question. ‘Well, my father married again, a widow with a little girl and boy, and they didn’t like me overmuch, I suppose because I was grown up and they weren’t, and then my stepmother had twins, and I looked after them. I expect they thought of me as a kind of nursemaid.’
‘You’re not sorry for yourself?’ stated Eileen.
‘Good grief no. I say Eileen, I have to buy some clothes before we go to Vienna, would you help me with that? You see, I’ve been living in the country and I’m not a bit fashionable.’
‘I can see that. What’s your name?’
‘Cordelia.’
Eileen smiled, a wide friendly smile, Cordelia was relieved to see. ‘OK Cordelia, I think you’re nice.’
‘Thank you Eileen, I think you’re nice too. You must tell me what I’m supposed to do, you know. Do you think we ought to go and find your grandmother and tell her that we’ve met?’
Eileen came closer and took her hand. ‘Yes, let’s.’
CHAPTER TWO
IT WAS GOING to be all right, decided Cordelia, lying awake in her comfortable bed that first night; the day had gone well. She and Eileen had lunched with Lady Trescombe and then gone for a leisurely walk while the child advised her solemnly about the kind of clothes she should buy and the various improvements she could make to her hair and make-up. Then when that important subject had been dealt with, they made hilarious guesses about Uncle Charles; he was to be stout and short, going bald and stuffy and when Cordelia reminded Eileen that she had said that he was a large man, she was told that people shrank with age. But they didn’t talk about him at tea, after all Lady Trescombe was his mother, and might be sensitive about his appearance. ‘And in any case,’ observed Cordelia, going to say good night, ‘we mustn’t be unkind—we’ve only been joking; perhaps your uncle is the best possible kind of uncle to have.’
Eileen looked doubtful. ‘Well, I don’t think he can be, if he was he’d have been married simply years ago.’ She added anxiously: ‘You will stay, won’t you?’
‘Provided your uncle will let me, my dear.’ Cordelia spoke cheerfully making light of her uncertainty.
It was astonishing how quickly the days flew by. She quickly discovered that Lady Trescombe was only too glad to leave her granddaughter in her care for the greater part of the day. They had lunch and dinner together and sometimes tea, but breakfast they had alone and provided Lady Trescombe knew what their plans were, they could do more or less what they wanted. True, Cordelia supervised Eileen’s piano practice each morning, and they read together for an hour during the day but otherwise the time was theirs to do with it as they wished. They walked miles while Cordelia listened to Eileen’s tales of her parents; they were never ending and she suspected that the child was homesick for them. She had spent the last year with her grandmother, going to a local private school where she had been happy enough but, she confided, lonely. ‘Granny’s friends are all so old,’ she explained, ‘and now I’ll have to stay with Uncle Charles and he’ll be old too…’
‘Well, not as old as all that,’ demurred Cordelia, ‘and if he wants me to stay, I’m not old at all, really. Remember we’ll be in a foreign city and there’s an awful lot to see there and school will be fun. Can you speak any German?’
‘A little, we had to learn it at school.’
‘Splendid—I can speak it a little too, so we’ll have fun exploring when you’re out of school.’ She saw Eileen pout and said hastily, ‘Let’s make plans for the shopping I still have to do; now what do you suggest I buy?’
She had two weeks salary and she intended to spend almost all she had. Once Eileen was in bed each evening, Cordelia sat in her room, whittling down her list of clothes until she decided that she had done the best she could, so that when, two days before they were due to leave, Lady Trescombe told her that Bates would drive her into Guildford so that she might do her shopping, she knew exactly what she had to look for. Eileen was to go too and if she saw anything she liked, said her grandmother, Cordelia could buy it for her; she was given a roll of notes to use for this purpose although she didn’t think that they would be spent; Eileen had a great many clothes and surely had no use for more.
Bates dropped them off in the middle of the shopping streets, arranged to pick them up during the afternoon and drove away and Cordelia, clutching her purse and with Eileen hanging on her arm, began her search.
She succeeded very well, considering that Eileen held matters up from time to time, seeing something that she simply had to have. But Cordelia, while making no objection to this, took care that they didn’t waste too much time and refused to be side tracked by her young companion’s wish that she should buy several pairs of highly coloured jeans and a handful of T-shirts. ‘Not quite the rig for a governess,’ she pointed out and went on looking for a cotton skirt with which she could wear coloured blouses. She settled for a sand coloured one, which Eileen declared was very dull but which was exactly what Cordelia had wanted. One or two cotton blouses and some sandals took care of her day by day wants—rather sparse, but that would have to do. A cotton jersey dress in a pretty blue would do for travelling and exploring museums and churches and a thin silk jersey dress in pale pastel shades would take care of any social occasions, although she didn’t expect many of those. It only remained to buy a cardigan to match the skirt and a pair of plain court shoes. And by then her money was almost exhausted. There was enough to buy undies and tights from a high street chain store but not enough for a raincoat; she would have to make do with her old one. Perhaps in Vienna she would buy one. The pair of them repaired to the restaurant of the store they were in, ate a good lunch and then browsed around the more expensive shops, where Eileen found exactly the kind of sandals she craved. That they were extremely expensive and unlikely to last more than a month or so, were arguments Cordelia tried in vain; they were bought, and since they were gaily striped, it became imperative to find jeans and a top to match them. Cordelia, watching patiently while Eileen started to try on these garments, wondered what Lady Trescombe would say when she handed over the remnants of the money she had given her.
She need not have worried; Eileen’s grandmother expressed approval of both sandals and outfit, enquired kindly of Cordelia if she had found all that she required for herself and suggested that the evening might be spent in packing. A lengthy business, for Eileen changed her mind a dozen times in as many minutes and when at last Cordelia had packed for her declared that it didn’t really matter if she hadn’t got all she needed with her; she could always buy anything she wanted in Vienna. Cordelia, starting on her own modest packing, wondered what Uncle Charles would have to say to that.
They were to fly from Heathrow to Munich and Bates drove them there in the early morning. Although they were joining the cruise ship at Passau, Lady Trescombe had explained, they would be met by a hired car at Munich airport and drive there in comfort; she had, she explained further, a dislike of travelling in coaches. ‘And I shall not go ashore,’ she told Cordelia, ‘but I think it would be good for Eileen to see as much as possible; so you will take all the tours with her. I hope the weather will be fine.’
Cordelia was too thrilled at the prospect of going to somewhere as exciting and romantic as Vienna to worry about the weather. She had almost no money, but she had more new clothes than she had had for a long time, she possessed a passport, and whatever the future held, she was about to enjoy a week of sightseeing beyond her wildest dreams.
The flight was short, less than two hours and they travelled Club class with only a handful of other passengers, so that Eileen, who considered herself a seasoned traveller, was able to point out various landmarks to Cordelia. When they got to Munich airport and had dealt with their luggage and customs, a task undertaken by Cordelia since Lady Trescombe was obviously in the habit of having someone dealing with the tiresome details of travel, a car was waiting for them and whisked them away long before the other travellers had reached the coaches waiting to take them to Passau.
The country was pleasant, not unlike England, and the day was fine; Cordelia, in the blue jersey outfit and thoroughly content with her world, patiently answered Eileen’s chatter and left Lady Trescombe to doze until they stopped at Altotting for lunch. The hotel facing the square in the centre of the picturesque little town awaited the arrival of the coach load of passengers for the ship but Lady Trescombe chose to have lunch in the smaller of the restaurants and before the coaches arrived they had finished their light meal and she was back in the car while Cordelia and Eileen hurried across to the small old chapel opposite the hotel, to peer inside at the incredible silverwork on its walls and wish that they could have had more time to inspect it. But Cordelia had already discovered that Lady Trescombe, while good natured and kind, disliked having her plans or comfort upset. She urged Eileen back to the car and they set off once more.
They reached Passau well ahead of the main party and were on board, settled in their cabins long before the first of the other passengers arrived. It was a splendid ship, Cordelia considered and the cabin she and Eileen shared was not only roomy, it was comfortable and airy and they had a splendid view from their large window. Lady Trescombe, next door, had a double cabin to herself, and presently Cordelia unpacked for her, listened carefully to that lady’s plans for the cruise, bade Eileen stay where she was for the moment and went to the reception desk to deal with Lady Trescombe’s wishes. They weren’t many but they were exacting and at the same time, she took a quick peep round the ship; the restaurant, the lounge, the sundeck and swimming pool. It all looked very satisfactory.
She was to book any tours which Eileen fancied, she had been told and Lady Trescombe had given her sufficient money to pay for them all and buy any small things she or Eileen needed. She, herself intended spending a quiet time reading and resting and she made it plain that although the pair of them might enjoy themselves as much as they wished, she didn’t want to be unduly disturbed. Which suited Cordelia well enough; she and Eileen spent half an hour deciding where they would go ashore, then they explored the ship, inspected the swimming pool and went back to their cabin to get ready for the evening.
The Captain’s cocktail party, they had been told, was to take place before dinner. The three of them went along to the lounge, Lady Trescombe in a simple black dress which had probably cost more than the whole of Cordelia’s wardrobe put together. Eileen in an equally expensive outfit and Cordelia in one of the jersey dresses. The lounge seemed very full of people; Lady Trescombe sat herself down at once but Cordelia and Eileen, glasses of some drink or other in their hands, found themselves caught up in a cheerful group of passengers. It was a pity, thought Cordelia that they weren’t sharing a table with one or two other people, but Lady Trescombe, while perfectly civil to everyone, had no intention of getting involved in any but the most transitory of conversations. The three of them dined at a window table and since by then it was quite late, went to their cabins afterwards.
The sound of the river water under their window was very soothing, Cordelia was asleep within minutes of putting her head on the pillow.
The pair of them were up early and up on deck before many of the passengers were awake. It was chilly but fine and they hung over the side admiring the magnificent scenery, planning their day. They were to go ashore and see the little town of Durnstein after lunch and a good part of the morning would be taken up with getting tickets for their various trips ashore. And since everything was strange and the scenery changed at every bend of the river, Cordelia thought it unlikely that Eileen would be bored.
They went down to breakfast presently; Lady Trescombe had declared that she would breakfast in her cabin and didn’t wish to be disturbed until after that; they ate their meal unhurriedly, exchanging small talk with the occupants of the tables nearby while Eileen speculated about her stay with Uncle Charles.
The child was worried guessed Cordelia, and did her best to calm her down a little. ‘Look Eileen,’ she coaxed, ‘would it be a good idea to forget your Uncle Charles until we get to Vienna? There’s such a lot to do before then. I don’t believe he’ll be half as bad as you think.’
Eileen frowned. ‘It’s all very well for you, Cordelia.’ She tossed her head. ‘Mummy says I’m a high spirited child and mustn’t be thwarted; I bet Uncle Charles thwarts me.’
‘Why should he? And you’re not going to be there for ever, you know.’
‘If he won’t let you stay, I shall run away.’
‘In that case, I’ll have to stay, won’t I?’ Cordelia sounded matter-of-fact. ‘Now let’s stop worrying about something which I’m sure won’t happen. Suppose you get out your camera and get some photos taken? We can have them developed when we get to Vienna and stick them in an album then you can show them to your Mother and Father.’
Durnstein, when they reached it, was a small picturesque town crowned by the ruins of the castle where Richard the Lionheart had been held captive and found, finally, by the faithful minstrel, Blondel. The pair of them wandered through the narrow mainstreet, speculating about the horrors of being held captive in a draughty old castle on the top of a hill for years on end until they did find a small shop crammed with enamel ware and embroidery where they browsed happily for half an hour before going back on board.
The days were much the same although the places they visited were different. Bratislava they found disturbing and Cordelia was sorry that they had gone ashore. The man on duty at the gangway with a gun slung over his shoulder was disconcerting, especially as he neither answered their polite greeting or smiled, and there was nothing to buy. But it gave Cordelia a good reason for delving into modern history and explaining intricate facts like European boundaries, until now she hadn’t felt that she was earning her salary and it was a pleasant surprise to find that Eileen was really interested.
They were to go to Budapest before they went ashore at Vienna, and here Lady Trescombe declared her intention of joining them. There was a taxi waiting for them and presumably someone had told the driver where to go for they crossed the Danube and drove up a winding road to an ancient citadel crowned by the statue of a woman. ‘Symbolising freedom,’ explained Cordelia to Eileen, having taken the trouble to read it all up beforehand.
They inspected the Matthias church next and Fisherman’s Bastion, exploring avidly until Lady Trescombe, professing herself already worn out, decided that they should go to the nearby Hilton Hotel and have their coffee. After that, since someone had mentioned that there was a shop close by where they might find some embroidery, they bade the patient cabby wait and found their way there. The shop was in a cellar, stuffed to overflowing with the kind of things tourists would want to buy. Eileen immediately demanded an embroidered blouse, which her grandmother allowed her to buy while she bought a pair of charming little figurines. But Cordelia didn’t buy anything for the simple reason that there was no one to whom she might give it. She was tempted by the boxes of painted eggs, but they looked fragile and since her future was uncertain, there seemed no point in buying them.
They went back presently and the taxi took them back across the river into the modern part of the city and here Lady Trescombe paid off the driver and declared herself ready for lunch. The hotel was modern but once inside it revealed an unexpected charm. White walls rose on all sides to the roof in a series of balconies, festooned with ivy. They sat at a little table and drank iced squash and then lunched in the splendid restaurant. Cordelia enjoyed every minute of it.
They went back to the boat presently and Lady Trescombe went straight to her cabin to rest and enjoy a tray of tea, but Cordelia and Eileen went to hang over the rails, pointing out to each other the various landmarks they remembered from the morning.
‘If Vienna is half as nice,’ declared Cordelia, ‘it will be super.’
She packed for them both that evening for they would arrive by midday the next morning, and after breakfast she packed for Lady Trescombe too.
‘You have enjoyed the trip?’ asked Lady Trescombe, ‘Eileen has been a good girl?’
‘Oh, yes, Lady Trescombe, I’ve loved every minute, and Eileen has been quite splendid; she’s been interested in everything too; it will help her with her school lessons and after Budapest she’s looking forward to exploring Vienna.’
‘I’m glad to hear it. Certainly you have made a good companion for her—she can at times be a very difficult child, but you get along well, I believe. Surely I shall recommend most strongly that you stay with her at her uncle’s house until her parents return. Unless of course, you wish to return to England?’
Cordelia couldn’t say no fast enough, to that.
They disembarked as soon as the formalities were dealt with. Cordelia and Eileen had made a few friends during their days on board; they bade them goodbye, suddenly reluctant to leave the familiar faces of the last few days, and followed Lady Trescombe down the gangway. There was a dark blue Jaguar car parked close by with a discreet GB on its back. Standing beside it a portly man of middle height, dressed soberly in a blue suit. Cordelia’s first idea that it was Uncle Charles was dispelled when she saw the peaked cap in his hand and heard Lady Trescombe say with satisfaction: ‘Ah, there is Thompson with the car— Charles remembered.’
She greeted the man, introducing him to Cordelia and Eileen before getting in and settling herself on the back seat. ‘You may sit with me,’ she told Eileen. ‘Be good enough to sit beside Thompson, Miss Gibson.’
To start with the streets looked uninteresting but then what could one expect? Dock areas all looked alike and neglected somehow, but presently the street opened into a wide boulevard and Thompson murmured: ‘The Ring, Miss, runs right round the centre of the city and very famous.’
The buildings had become large and grand and there were little corners of green and trees. Museums, Cordelia guessed, and then large apartment houses with heavily curtained windows which concealed who knew what splendours within. They gave way presently to shops, very elegant too, this would be the Karntner Ring that Lady Trescombe had mentioned one day, and these in turn made way for vast buildings which had to be more museums or perhaps government offices, and then a sweep of green fronting that could only be a palace. There were broad avenues running across the grass and stationed on them small open carriages, their drivers in bowler hats and a pair of horses standing between the shafts. But Thompson went on his sedate way, past the Parliament Building to turn to the right at the end of the small park facing it. The street was quiet after the bustle of the Ring and the stone-faced buildings on either side of it had an opulent air.
Thompson slowed the car and stopped before a large mahogany door in the centre of such a building, he got out, opened the door for Lady Trescombe and Eileen and then did the same for Cordelia.
He rang the old fashioned bell, observed that he would see to their luggage, and went back to the car as the door was opened. The hall porter who had answered the bell wished them good day in his own language and led them across the elegant lobby to the lift, ushered them into it and took them to the second floor. The lobby here was as opulent as the entrance and there were only two doors in it, facing each other. He trod magestically across to one of them, rang the doorbell and waited until the door was opened before taking leave of them, presumably to help Thompson with the luggage, and all without almost any words at all, a situation quickly remedied by the little plump woman who held the door invitingly open.
‘There you are, Madam dear, here at last, and Eileen with you too.’ Her beady dark eyes studied Cordelia before she smiled at her. ‘And this is the young lady the doctor mentioned. Come along in,’ she stood aside as they went into the hall, ‘I’ll let him know that you are here—stayed home from hospital on purpose to welcome you, he did…’ She paused for breath and one of the doors in the hall was opened and a man came out.
Uncle Charles, but not the Uncle Charles of her and Eileen’s fancy—this man, while no longer young, was still in his thirties and his dark hair was barely touched by grey. He was, thought Cordelia, quite out of her depth, incredibly handsome in a craggy way, and very large, towering over them all in a rather off putting fashion. Oh, how very nice, she thought inadequately and waited for him to speak.
He had a quiet voice and rather slow; she couldn’t catch what he said to his mother as he stooped to kiss her before turning to Eileen, standing beside her and staring at him with frank surprise.
His, ‘Hullo, Eileen. You don’t remember me, do you? I hope you will be happy here until your parents return,’ was uttered in a somewhat absent minded way, and Cordelia noticed that he held a book in one hand, one finger marking the place. A pity if he was an absent minded scholar who preferred books to people, she mused and then coloured faintly as Lady Trescombe said: ‘This is Miss Gibson, Charles, Eileen’s companion.’
‘How d’you do,’ asked Cordelia politely. The doctor studied her carefully, ‘Mrs Thompson shall take you to your rooms,’ he said at length, ‘we shall be in the drawing room when you are ready. I daresay you would like a drink before lunch.’ He nodded at her and took his mother’s arm and led her across the hall to another door, opened it and went inside with her, closing it behind him.
‘He’s awful,’ whispered Eileen and caught Cordelia’s hand in hers.
‘No, dear. I think perhaps he’s used to living alone and isn’t quite sure what to do with us.’ She didn’t say more because Mrs Thompson had come to take them to their rooms.
It was a large apartment; they mounted half a dozen shallow stairs and went down a long passage, thickly carpeted, with Mrs Thompson leading the way, talking cosily all the while. ‘Side by side, you are,’ she told them, ‘and there’s a bathroom for you to share. The doctor’s along the other corridor and Thompson and I are at the end of his corridor. He thought you’d like to be on your own…’
She opened doors as she spoke, revealing two rooms, furnished very similarly in a rather heavy fashion. There was a connecting door and a view of the street below from their windows. ‘Of course,’ the doctor only rents this place,’ explained Mrs Thompson, tweaking a bedspread into exact lines, ‘he doesn’t care for it overmuch, but it’s handy for the university and the hospitals, and we’ll be going home in a couple of months.’ She beamed at them. ‘Well, I’ll leave you to tidy up. You can find your way to the drawing room? If you want any help with unpacking just you ring. I’ll be in Lady Trescombe’s room putting her things to rights…’
Left alone Eileen looked at Cordelia. ‘I’m not going to like it here,’ she said defiantly, and peeped at her to see what she would say.
‘Well, I don’t see how you can say that until we’ve been here for at least two or three days,’ said Cordelia matter-of-factly. ‘I thought it all looked rather exciting as we drove here, didn’t you? That Palace and those dear little carriages…we might take a ride…’
