Magic in Vienna

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‘All the same,’ began Eileen, but Cordelia didn’t give her the chance: ‘The thing is,’ she went on calmly, ‘now we’re here, wouldn’t it be a good thing to sample some of the things we’ve been reading about on board; I’d love to see the Schonbrunn Palace and eat a cream cake at Sacher’s Coffee House and to go to the Spanish Riding School.’

She could see Eileen wavering but she was far too wise to say more. ‘Let’s tidy ourselves and have that drink,’ she suggested.

Five minutes later they were ready. They were on the last stair of the steps leading to the hall and about to cross the hall to the half open drawing room door when Dr Trescombe spoke, his deep quiet voice nevertheless very clear.

‘By all means let her stay,’ he sounded bored, ‘I’m sure that I can rely on your opinion, Mother. I can’t say I have felt much interest—a rather dull girl, I should have thought, with no looks to speak of…’

Cordelia had stopped, rooted to the spot, her face had paled and her gentle mouth was half open. She might have stayed there for heaven knew how long but Eileen caught her by the hand and whisked her silently back up the steps. Safely on the landing she whispered fiercely: ‘Don’t believe a word of it Cordelia, you’re not a bit dull and when you smile you’re beautiful. I hate him.’

Cordelia managed a smile. ‘At least I’m to stay.’ She breathed the words into Eileen’s ear. ‘But don’t hate him—he’s quite right, you know.’

Eileen scowled and Cordelia put a finger to her lips and urged her down into the hall again. She said in a high and rather loud voice: ‘I daresay most people living in Vienna have apartments, I remember reading…’

They had reached the drawing-room door, which was a good thing because she had no idea what she was going to say next.

Lady Trescombe was sitting in an over upholstered chair, a glass on the small table by her side. She said unnecessarily: ‘There you are. Eileen, you may have a glass of lemonade. Miss Gibson, you would probably like a glass of sherry.’

The doctor was standing at the other end of the room, looking out of the window. He turned to look at them as they went in but apparently he had no objection to his mother taking over his duties for he said nothing before resuming his study of the street outside.

‘I shall return home in two days time,’ observed Lady Trescombe. ‘You will arrange that for me, Charles? A morning flight I think.’

Cordelia and Eileen had sat down side by side on a massive sofa and he came to sit in a chair opposite his mother.

‘Certainly, my dear, although I should have liked you to stay for longer.’

He transferred his gaze to Cordelia and she was startled to see how very blue his eyes were. ‘You will remain, Miss Gibson? Eileen’s parents will return in rather less than six weeks and I must depend upon you to keep her occupied and happy until then. You must understand that I have my work which keeps me busy and I have little leisure. Your duties are unlikely to be onerous. I have arranged for Eileen to attend a school while she is here,’ and at the girl’s interruption: ‘Don’t worry, Eileen, you will only go to the classes you will enjoy. You like painting and drawing don’t you? You may go three times a week to art class, and perhaps you might like the cookery sessions and the embroidery… Anyway, try them out, and if you don’t like them, we’ll think of something else. Your mother wrote to me and suggested it and I know it would please her, but if the idea of school makes you unhappy, we’ll scrap it.’

Cordelia found this to be a very reasonable arrangement and was relieved to see Eileen’s face brighten. ‘I can really choose for myself?’

‘Of course. There will be plenty of time for you and Miss Gibson to explore Vienna—feel free to go where you like, provided you let Thompson or Mrs Thompson know where you are going.’ He smiled suddenly and looked years younger. ‘I’m afraid I’m not much of an uncle, my dear, you must forgive a middle-aged bachelor.’

‘Probably,’ said Eileen, ‘when Cordelia and I have been here for a week or two, you’ll feel much younger.’

His eyes flickered over Cordelia. ‘Er—quite possibly. Perhaps the two of you would like to unpack?’

Cordelia got up and walked to the door without saying a word, reminding herself that after all he wasn’t any worse than her stepmother, and she was being paid for it. As she waited for Eileen she did a little rapid mental arithmetic—five weeks at the salary she was getting, if she saved most of it, would cushion her nicely against the uncertain future.

She had, while they had been on board, spent some time in deciding what she would buy once they were in Vienna, her wardrobe was, after all meagre, but now she realised that half a dozen sacks would do just as well as far as Uncle Charles was concerned and she wasn’t likely to make many friends. She would be able to manage very well with what she had.

The pair of them unpacked while Eileen discussed her uncle.

‘It’s not polite to talk about him when we’re guests under his roof,’ reproved Cordelia.

‘Well I don’t think I like him, I expect he thinks we’re a nuisance…’

‘Quite likely. You see he lives alone and has only had himself to consider. I’m quite sorry for him—I daresay he’s a very lonely man.’

Eileen, under Cordelia’s direction, was laying shoes and slippers in a neat row in the clothes closet. ‘Well, he can get married.’ She turned to look at Cordelia. ‘I don’t suppose you fancy him?’

‘No,’ said Cordelia, ‘I don’t think I do, and isn’t that a good thing for I don’t suppose I’d make much headway, would I?’

They giggled at the very idea, finished their unpacking and went downstairs again.

Lunch was ready as they reached the hall, delayed for half an hour so that Dr Trescombe could talk to his mother. They ate it in a sombre heavily furnished room, sitting spaced out round an oval table. The doctor was a good host; he included Eileen and Cordelia in the conversation and was attentive to their wants, all the same Cordelia was relieved when they went back to the drawing room for their coffee, and presently she gave a speaking look to Eileen and carried that reluctant young lady off to her room.

‘Are you going back to the drawing room?’ she wanted to know as Cordelia prepared to leave her.

‘Me? Heavens no. Your grandmother and uncle will want to talk together.’ She could imagine the polite conversation they would maintain if she were foolish enough to rejoin them, concealing their impatience with well-bred courtesy. ‘I shall go to my room for a bit, presently I should think we might go out and take a look round. There’s a park close by, unless your grandmother or uncle want you…’

She left Eileen with a book and went along to her own room and did her face and hair again for something to do and then went and sat by the window and watched the street below. She hoped that Uncle Charles wasn’t going to dislike her, it was disheartening that he had such a poor opinion of her, but perhaps that wasn’t such a bad thing; he’d be more likely to ignore her. And in the meanwhile, here she was in Vienna, living in what to her was the lap of luxury and with untold museums, monuments and palaces to explore. Money to spend too, although she would have to save most of it.

An hour, she judged, seemed a suitable period in which to leave mother and son together; she went through the connecting door to Eileen’s room, cast a critical eye over her appearance, and suggested that it might be a good idea to find Lady Trescombe and discover her plans for the rest of the day.

An unnecessary exercise, as it turned out for Mrs Thompson knocked on the door with the request that Miss Eileen should go down to the drawing room to her grandmother, and Miss Gibson was asked to go at once to Dr Trescombe’s study.

A gloomy, book-lined apartment, she discovered, with dark green curtains draped on either side of the big window and a wide desk set at an angle to the door. The doctor sat behind it, but he got up as she went in and offered her one of the stiff little leather armchairs opposite the desk.

This done, he went to the window and rather impatiently pulled back the curtains so that there was more light in the room. It fell on to Cordelia’s face but she didn’t turn away from it: in fact she was a practical girl and he’d already decided that she had no looks…

He studied her in a detached way for a few moments. ‘My mother tells me that Eileen likes you, a sufficient recommendation for you to remain here. But I cannot stress sufficiently that you must take sole charge of her; I have had very little to do with children and my work precludes my participation in an active social life. I leave you to decide what is suitable for Eileen’s entertainment and rely upon you to keep her suitably occupied.’

‘In short, Dr Trescombe, you don’t want to be aware that we are here.’ Cordelia spoke quietly in a matter-of-fact voice but the doctor’s eyebrows rose.

‘You put it rather more frankly than necessary, Miss Gibson, but yes, that is what I wish.’

‘I shall do my best,’ observed Cordelia calmly, ‘but of course Eileen is a high spirited child, to keep her quite silent will be difficult.’

‘I am not an ogre,’ said the doctor sharply. ‘I shall expect you to come to me if you need help of any sort and naturally, I wish Eileen to be happy while she is here.’ He sat back in his chair and said in a more friendly voice. ‘You will both take your meals with me; I am seldom home for lunch, but I hope that you will both join me for breakfast and dinner. Occasionally I have guests, and probably it may be better if you and Eileen dine alone—the talk is usually in German.’

Cordelia decided that it was unnecessary to tell him that she knew something of that language. And anyway, Lady Trescombe may have mentioned it. She quite understood that neither Eileen nor herself were likely to add much sparkle to a dinner party and she agreed without hesitation.

‘In which case, I don’t need to keep you any longer, Miss Gibson. I believe my mother wishes to drive to the shops with Eileen and give her tea at Sacher’s. If you care to go out and find your way around for a short time? Mrs Thompson will give you your tea when you return. We dine at eight o’clock.’

He got up and went to open the door for her. Nice manners, thought Cordelia, once more in the hall, but what a waste; head buried in his books when he’s not examining his patients. I believe he’s scared of having us here. Afraid that we’ll upset his bachelor life. She went to her room, dabbed some more powder on her nose, tucked her handbag under her arm and left the house, having been informed by Thompson, hovering in the hall that Lady Trescombe and Miss Eileen had gone off in a taxi. He smiled at her very kindly and pressed a map of the city into her hand before she went. ‘I’ve marked this building with a cross in ink, Miss,’ he advised her, ‘if you miss your way all you need to do is get a taxi and show the driver the map.’

She thanked him, much cheered by his thoughtfulness, and set off in the direction of the ring. From a hasty look at the map, she saw that provided she kept to it, she would eventually get back to the doctor’s apartment, for the Ring encircled the inner City and was clearly marked.

She paused uncertainly on the edge of the pavement, deciding whether to go left or right, and the doctor, watching her from the window of his study, smiled as she turned briskly to the left, where in the distance, she could see the reassuring bulk of the houses of Parliament.

CHAPTER THREE

RETURNING AFTER a brisk hour’s walk, Cordelia felt that she had done rather well; guided by the map she had found her way back to the Imperial Palace, conveniently surrounded by museums, the Spanish Riding School and some charming gardens. A good jumping off ground upon which to base the daily excursions she had planned for Eileen.

Back at the apartment, Thompson appeared silently beside her as she went down the hall. ‘I will put tea in the small sitting room, Miss. Would ten minutes suit you?’

She beamed at him. ‘Oh, Thompson, how nice. Yes, that will be fine. Where’s the small sitting room?’

He indicated a door at the end of the hall. ‘I rather fancy that will be the room set aside for the use of yourself and Miss Eileen during your stay,’ he told her. ‘Anything you require, Miss, if you would ask me or Mrs Thompson.’ He added poker faced: ‘The Dr is much occupied with his work and doesn’t wish to be bothered with matters which Mrs Thompson or I can deal with.’