by Betty Neels
‘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.’
