Ellis smiled and agreed, “This platform is a little bit of Scotland.”
“You mean a wee bit of Scotland,” said Louise, giggling. She was in wildest spirits.
There was still five minutes before the train was due to start, so Bel went to the door of the coach and leaned out of the window. She stretched out her hand to Ellis who was standing on the platform.
“You understand why I’ve got to go,” she said.
“You know I understand,” he replied. “Louise is your friend; you couldn’t let her go alone. You and I are so happy that we’ve got to do what we can for other people.”
“Yes, that’s what I feel too . . . but you’ll take care of yourself, won’t you?”
“What do you think could happen to me at Fletchers End?” asked Ellis smiling. He added, “You’ll take care of yourself, I hope. That’s much more to the point.”
“Don’t forget to lock the window in the bathroom,” said Bel anxiously.
Ellis was about to reply to this injunction when a man in a Burberry pushed him aside and leapt into the train; a porter came flying after him with a suitcase. The door was slammed; the train began to move.
“Ellis!” cried Bel. “It’s only for two days!”
Ellis took off his hat and shouted, “I’ll meet you on Friday!”
“Friday!” cried Bel, waving her handkerchief.
*
2
When Bel returned to her sleeper she found Louise there, sitting on the bed.
“Let’s talk for a few minutes,” said Louise. “I’m so excited I shan’t sleep a wink. I keep on thinking about Alec all the time. Dear Alec, I wonder what he’ll say when I walk into his room tomorrow. He’ll be terribly surprised, won’t he? What fun it will be to see his face! Poor Alec, I can’t bear to think of him being lonely and unhappy. You said he was unhappy, didn’t you?”
“Yes, I’m afraid he is. He’s very worried about his business.”
“That’s why I felt I had to see him at once. Troubles aren’t nearly so bad when you’ve got someone to share them. I want to share his troubles, Bel.”
“Yes, I know.”
“I wish we could stay a bit longer in Edinburgh, but of course we can’t—and anyhow there isn’t much object in staying any longer. Once I have fixed everything with Alec I shall have to find someone to look after Daddy.”
“He’ll miss you frightfully.”
Louise smiled. She said, “I’ll tell you a secret. I believe I’ve found someone for him. Of course it will take time—you can’t rush things like that, can you?”
“Things like what?” asked Bel in bewilderment. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m talking about Mrs. Musgrave.”
“Mrs. Musgrave?”
“Yes, Daddy likes her quite a lot,” said Louise giggling. “He does, really. They’re tremendous friends. I had no idea they were so friendly until the other night when Mrs. Musgrave and Rose came to supper. When I saw Mrs. Musgrave and Daddy talking to each other so happily and getting on with each other so well, I suddenly thought what a good thing it would be. It would be lovely for both of them, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes,” said Bel, but she said it doubtfully for the idea seemed so strange . . . and then she remembered the morning before her wedding when they had all been in the kitchen and Dr. Armstrong had come in. She remembered that he had made straight for Mrs. Musgrave and talked to her.
“You don’t sound very enthusiastic,” said Louise. “I think it’s a marvellous plan. Of course, as I said, you can’t rush a thing like that. I shall have to find a housekeeper for Daddy—just a temporary one—until they get used to the idea. My plans usually come off all right,” she added.
Bel was aware of this.
“There’s such a lot to arrange,” continued Louise thoughtfully. “I expect Alec and I will have to be married in Edinburgh because Alec won’t be able to get away from his business. I’d have liked a real proper wedding at Ernleigh . . . but the important thing is to be married as soon as possible so that I can look after Alec and keep him happy. We shall have to find a little flat—just a teeny tiny flat and very cheap. It will be fun to go shopping in the morning and find the cheapest places to buy food—the cheapest pieces of meat. Shin of beef, for instance; you can make a very nourishing soup with shin of beef. They call it gigot in Scotland, so——”
“They call it hough,” said Bel, who had learnt quite a lot about housekeeping in Scotland while she was staying with the Dering Johnstones.
“Oh well, I’ll soon learn,” said Louise cheerfully. “I shall make friends with the butcher. Butchers are always nice and friendly so there won’t be any difficulty about that.”
Bel listened to all this and wondered. Would it be all right? Would Alec agree to everything that Louise had planned? Perhaps he would—it was difficult to deny Louise anything she had set her heart on—and he had said quite definitely that he would do anything for Louise. He had said so that night in the hotel at Drumburly—she remembered his very words and the tone in which they had been uttered. Yes, perhaps it would be all right.
Bel listened for a little while longer. At last she said, “You had better go to bed. You’ll be an absolute wreck to-morrow if you don’t get any sleep—and Alec won’t love you at all.”
“You wretch!” exclaimed Louise laughing. “I suppose you want to go to bed yourself!”
“Yes, I do,” said Bel firmly. “And what on earth was the good of Ellis getting sleepers for us if we aren’t going to sleep?”
Chapter Thirty
It had been decided after some argument that the best time for Louise to visit Alec would be after tea. Bel knew a good deal about office routine and she assured her friend that it would be a great mistake to call at the office in the morning or the early afternoon. Alec would be busy and not in the mood for interruption, however welcome his visitor might be.
Louise had intended to go and see Alec in the morning as early as possible, but she saw the point and agreed somewhat reluctantly to wait. Yes, perhaps it would be better for they would have so much to say—so many things to arrange. She would go after tea and they could stay together in the office after the staff had left; she would bring Alec back to the hotel for dinner.
The train arrived in good time so, having had breakfast and unpacked, they went for a stroll along Princes Street and looked at the shops. Louise bought a hat—a delightful piece of nonsense made of flowers—which became her greatly. She was so pleased with her purchase and with the shop assistant’s assurance that she suited it a treat that she decided to wear it when she went to see Alec. Bel bought a silk scarf for herself and a tartan shopping bag for Mrs. Warmer. They visited a bookshop and each bought a paper-back thriller to read in bed.
What with one thing and another the morning passed very pleasantly and after lunch they went up to their room and rested. They were sharing a double-bedded room so they chatted for a little and then went fast asleep.
It was tea-time when Bel awoke; she roused Louise, who was slumbering sweetly, and after they had dressed they went downstairs to the lounge and ordered tea.
*
2
By this time Louise was so excited that she could neither speak nor eat. She drank a cup of tea like a woman in a dream; her lips moved as if she were talking, every now and then she smiled vaguely at nothing at all. Certainly she looked extremely pretty—the new hat, perched coquettishly on her dark curls, suited her to perfection—but Bel had a feeling that under the circumstances it would have been better if she had gone to see Alec dressed in her oldest clothes (she looks too—too expensive, thought Bel, searching for the right word). It was no good saying so, of course, for even if Bel could have explained her feelings, which would have been difficult, Louise would not have listened. Louise would have thought her mad to make such an extraordinary suggestion.
“I’m going now,” said Louise suddenly. “I can’t put it off a moment longer.”
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Bel watched her walk across the lounge and disappear through the door.
Would it be all right—or not? wondered Bel. She felt quite sick with apprehension. Louise had told her to go out for a walk; she had explained that she would be away for hours so it was no good for Bel to wait. All the same Bel waited.
People passed to and fro; some of them came in, talking and laughing cheerfully, they looked round and found a table and sat down to have tea; others seemed in a hurry, their faces were anxious and distraught. A man, sitting at the table near Bel, was reading an evening paper but he did not seem interested in the news for he kept putting it down and glancing at his watch. Bel saw two women meet suddenly face to face; they exclaimed in surprise, kissed each other affectionately and sat down to chat.
Bel’s thoughts wandered. What was happening in Alec’s office? What were they saying to each other? How long would she have to wait? Possibly she would have to wait for hours—as Louise had said—but it did not matter. That was why she had come with Louise to Edinburgh—just to wait—just to be here in case—in case she might be wanted.
Bel looked at her watch and saw to her amazement that she had waited less than twenty minutes. It was no use expecting Louise yet. It was silly to keep on watching the door . . . but she kept on watching the door. A man came in with a suitcase; a woman came in with a large black poodle . . . then the door opened again and it was Louise.
For a few moments Bel thought it was all right because Louise was smiling; but when she came nearer, wending her way between the tables towards the corner where Bel was sitting, it became apparent that the smile was not real. It was a smiling mask fixed tightly on to her face.
“Hallo, Bel, have you been waiting long?” she asked as she sat down and pulled off her gloves. She smoothed them out and added, “Well, I’ve been turned down. Isn’t it a joke?”
“Louise! What happened? Did you see him?”
“Of course I saw him. The clerk showed me into his room and there he was, alone in his glory. I thought he’d be pleased to see me, but he wasn’t—not a bit. I asked him to marry me and he turned me down flat. That’s all that happened.”
Bel gazed at her in silence.
“Why don’t you say, ‘I told you so’?” asked Louise.
“I didn’t—tell you——” whispered Bel.
“But you thought it, didn’t you? You knew I’d get a slap in the face. That’s why you came—to pick up the pieces—but there ain’t going to be no pieces to pick up. See?”
Bel was silent. What could she say? If they had been alone—if they had been alone in the drawing-room at Fletchers End she could have put her arms round Louise and held her tightly—but you couldn’t do that in the busy lounge of a station hotel! You couldn’t do anything, you just had to sit and listen like a dummy while Louise put on her act.
“I’d forgotten it wasn’t Leap Year,” continued Louise brightly. “Silly of me, wasn’t it? You might have reminded me about that. Oh well, it doesn’t matter. Alec isn’t the only pebble on the beach. There’s always Roy, isn’t there?” She laughed in a hard brittle sort of way and added, “I wouldn’t have to ask him twice.”
“Louise! What did he say?”
“Who? Oh, you mean Alec! He just said, ‘No thank you, I’m too busy to get married. I can’t afford a wife.’”
“I’m sure he didn’t mean——”
“He was—quite different,” said Louise with a little catch in her breath. “He was cold and hard—like a stone. I couldn’t—get near him. He wouldn’t listen—he wouldn’t listen to anything I said.” Suddenly the bright smile went out (like a turned-off light) and her lips trembled.
“Let’s go upstairs,” said Bel, rising. “We can’t talk here.”
“There’s nothing to—talk about,” said Louise but she followed Bel to the lift.
They said no more—not a single word—until Bel opened the door of the room and they went in.
Louise threw her hat on the bed and walked over to the window. “Lovely view of the Castle from here,” she said. “I’m so glad they gave us a room this side, aren’t you?”
“Louise——”
“No, I don’t want to talk. There will be quite enough talk in Ernleigh when I go home.”
“Talk in Ernleigh? But people don’t know——”
“Everyone knows. You can’t move a finger in a place like that without everyone knowing. The dailies chat to each other about everything that happens and this will be a particularly spicy piece of news. People will say, ‘Have you heard the latest? Louise Armstrong went all the way to Edinburgh to ask that man to marry her and he wouldn’t have her as a gift.’ Well, it will give them a good laugh.”
“Oh, darling, I’m sure——”
“You had better go and have dinner. I’m not hungry. I wonder why I’m not hungry. The air here is so bracing, isn’t it?”
Curiously enough Bel was not hungry either, in spite of the bracing air. She hesitated for a moment or two wondering what to do. Louise’s back was as straight as a ramrod.
“Would you rather I went away?” she asked doubtfully.
“Yes, I would. I know it’s rude and—and unkind, but you could go and have dinner, couldn’t you?”
“I’ll tell them to bring you a glass of milk and some biscuits.”
“All right, you can tell them to bring it later. I don’t want anything now. I shall sit here and read my book.”
*
3
The room was cold—or at least it seemed cold to Bel—so she switched on the electric radiator and, after another anxious glance at Louise who was still gazing out of the window, she went away, closing the door behind her. The chambermaid was on the landing so she explained that her friend was not feeling well and ordered the milk and biscuits to be brought later. Then she went downstairs to the lounge.
For a few minutes Bel sat there, wondering what she should do; then she went to the hall-porter’s desk and asked him to order a taxi.
It was nearly eight o’clock by this time, cold and cloudy; a thin drizzle had begun to fall. Bel wished she had thought of bringing her coat, but it could not be helped. She had no hat, but that could not be helped either.
The office was in George Street. She decided to try there first, for it was possible that Alec might be working late. If not she could go on to the house in Buckingham Terrace. If Alec were not there . . . but it was no good thinking about that.
The taxi came quite soon. The hall porter saw her into it. He said, “It’s not a very nice evening, Miss. You should have put on a coat.”
Bel smiled and thanked him and said she was not going far. As a matter of fact she had no idea how far she was going for she did not know Edinburgh at all. She had expected quite a long drive—long enough to get her thoughts in order—but it took only a few moments to negotiate the complicated West End roundabout. Before she had time to think the taxi turned into George Street, and drew up at the office door. There were steps up to the door and over the top of the fan-light she saw drummond in big brass letters.
“Is this right?” asked the taxi driver. “It’s an office. I doubt you’ll not find anybody in the place at this time of night.”
“I’ll try,” said Bel. “Wait for me, please. If there isn’t anyone here I shall want you to take me somewhere else.”
He looked rather doubtful so she added, “It’s very important.”
“Very well, I’ll wait on you,” he said. “I’ll take a read at my paper.”
Bel went up the steps and rang the bell. She felt sick and her knees were knocking together . . . and the rain had begun to fall quite hard. Fortunately she had not long to wait. The door was opened by a very small man with a wrinkled sallow face; he looked at her in surprise.
“Is Mr. Drummond here?” asked Bel.
“He’s here, but he’s not available. He’s very busy.”
“It’s important,” said Bel earnestly. “I must see him.”
“I�
��m sorry but Mr. Drummond is not wanting to see anybody. It’s after business hours. You’ll need to come back in the morning.”
He was about to shut the door when Bel made a last effort. “Mr. Bates, I must see him,” she said.
The man was so astonished at hearing his name on the lips of a completely strange young woman that he paused and gazed at her speechless.
“You are Mr. Bates, aren’t you?” said Bel. “Mr. Drummond told me about you. I know you and Mr. Drummond are both very busy getting the books in order but I’ve come all the way from London to see him, and I must see him to-night.”
While she was speaking she had slipped past the man and was in the hall (he stood there, hesitating, not knowing what to do). The hall was dark, but a door on the right was ajar and showed a chink of light . . . Bel pushed it open and went in, shutting it behind her.
Chapter Thirty-One
Alec Drummond was sitting at a desk at the other end of the room with several big ledgers open in front of him. He did not look up from his work, but said in an abstracted tone of voice, “Who was it, Wilkie? Did you get rid of him?”
“It was me,” said Bel.
Alec swung round. “Bel!” he exclaimed incredulously.
“He tried to get rid of me but I dodged him. I had to see you, Alec.”
“Where on earth have you come from?” cried Alec. “What are you doing here?”
“I had to see you,” repeated Bel, speaking very quickly. “I know you’re frightfully busy but you must listen to me—just for a few minutes—please, Alec!”
He had risen and was placing a chair for her. “Goodness, you’re all wet!” he exclaimed. “Why haven’t you got a coat?”
“I just—came—suddenly. I had to see you. There wasn’t time to get a coat.”
“You’re shivering! Come and sit near the fire for goodness’ sake! You’ll get your death of cold.”
Bel was shivering uncontrollably—but not with cold. All the same she was glad to sit near the fire.
Alec seized the poker and poked it into a blaze. “I suppose it’s about Louise,” he said. “If so, you’re wasting your time.”
Fletchers End (Bel Lamington Book 2) Page 23
