Magic in Vienna. Betty Neels

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СКАЧАТЬ the late afternoon and the last bus for the village doesn’t leave St Albans until six-fifteen, though I’ll try and catch the one before that if I can.’ Distant shouts signalled the twins clattering along to the schoolroom, and she picked up her tray once more. ‘What time?’ she asked. ‘I’m to be there by two o’clock.’

      ‘Sam wants to be at his aunt’s by one o’clock. If I do you some sandwiches will you be able to eat them somewhere?’

      ‘Bless you Cook, of course, I will.’

      ‘Well, good luck, Miss Cordelia, you deserve a taste of the world. I’ll miss you.’

      ‘I shall miss you too, if I get the job.’

      Nothing occurred to upset their plans, her stepmother and Chloë left after lunch and since it was a fine afternoon, Cordelia took the twins for a walk, gave them their tea and then played cards with them until bedtime. They didn’t want to go, of course, but the reminder that they were to spend the day with Johnny and Jennifer and would have to get up smartly in the morning, got them into bed at last. Cordelia ate her supper in the schoolroom and repaired to her own room to prepare for the next day. She had had her suit for quite a time now, it was well cut and fitted her nicely and though it was sadly out of fashion it would have to do. She polished her shoes put handbag and gloves ready and went to bed. She went to sleep at once; there was no point in lying awake worrying about the interview, she had learnt long ago not to worry too much but to make the best of what was offered.

      She enjoyed the ride with Sam; the twins safely seen into the Kings’ household she had been free to get dressed, drink a hasty cup of coffee, and with Cook’s promise to see that the schoolroom cupboard was turned out and the furniture polished, she had got into his small, down-at-heel van with something like excitement. Only when he drew up in front of the dignified exterior of Brown’s Hotel did she falter.

      ‘Looks a bit grand,’ ventured Sam, peering at the windowboxes.

      Cordelia, with memories of visiting such hotels in her father’s company before he remarried, was made of sterner stuff. ‘It’s only an hotel,’ she pointed out. ‘And I shall just go to a room to be interviewed. Thank you, Sam, for the lift. You’ve no idea how grateful I am.’ She beamed at him. ‘Perhaps, one day I’ll be able to repay it.’ She got out of the van and ignoring the surprise on the face of the doorman, put her head through the open window. ‘Have a nice weekend with your auntie.’

      She crossed the pavement. ‘I’ve an appointment with Lady Trescombe,’ she told the doorman, ‘Where should I go?’

      The doorman was elderly and had elderly ideas. Now here’s a lady, he told himself, not like some of those flighty young things I’ve been opening the door to. Aloud he said politely; ‘If you go to the desk, the clerk will help you.’ He held the door for her and she thanked him as he escorted her inside.

      Lady Trescombe had a room on the first floor and she was shown into a small ante room leading to it. To her bitter surprise there were three other girls already there. They eyed her, dismissed her as not worth worrying about, and ignored her ‘Good afternoon’ as she sat down.

      They were all smartly dressed, a good deal younger than she was, moreover they each one of them wore the look of someone who had enjoyed a good meal. The sandwiches which she and Sam had shared in a lay-by hadn’t really filled her and she longed for a cup of tea. Worse still, she was far too early; there was the best part of an hour before her appointment. A girl came out, looking pleased with herself and one of the others got up and went through the door into the room beyond. Cordelia, realising that she had a long wait before her, allowed her thoughts to dwell on the unlikely possibility of her getting the job and if she did what she would do with the money she earned, and more important, what she would do when the job finished. How long was temporary, she wondered, a week, a month, six months? And once embarked on a life of her own, should she stick to similar work or should she find work in a shop or train as a nurse or even become someone’s housekeeper? One thing was certain, she would never go back to her stepmother’s house.

      She sat on patiently as the other girls, one by one, went away and returned until at last she was the only one left, and presently the girl before her came out, said, ‘You next,’ and left too.

      Cordelia took a deep breath and opened the door. The room was large, comfortably furnished and warm. She hadn’t formed any idea of the person whom she was to meet and the rather fragile elderly lady sitting in an easy chair by a small table, took her by surprise. She said good afternoon in her pleasant voice and at a nod, sat down on a chair drawn up close to the table.

      The lady might look fragile but she also looked very alert and a little severe. She had a small voice but the questions she put were very much to the point. No, said Cordelia, she had no university degree, and no, she hadn’t worked for anyone before, and no, she couldn’t drive a car. It made a nice change when she was able to say that yes she could speak German after a fashion, that she had spent quite a few years looking after the young stepbrothers and sisters, that she had no plans to marry and no romantic attachment, as Lady Trescombe put it.

      ‘Why do you want this job?’ asked that woman suddenly.

      ‘I’ve been looking after the children since my father remarried,’ explained Cordelia, ‘the twins are six years old and go to school. I’m not really needed at home.’

      ‘You won’t be missed?’

      ‘No.’

      ‘My granddaughter,’ said Lady Trescombe, ‘is a spoilt child but a nice one, she is twelve years old and her parents have been in South America for two years. She has been living with me but my son has decided that I should have a rest and has agreed to have Eileen to live with him until his sister and her husband return home in a few months’ time. I believe that you will suit very well, but I must warn you that your stay in Vienna will depend on whether he wishes you to remain as Eileen’s companion. She will, of course, be sent to school but you will be kept fully occupied. My son is a surgeon, working at a hospital there. He expects to return to England sometime this summer.’ She paused and mentioned a salary which sent Cordelia’s blood pressure sky high. ‘Do you wish to consider my offer or are you prepared to accept it at once.’

      ‘I’ll accept it, thank you. I think I should tell you though that my stepmother will probably be annoyed because I want to earn my own living…’

      ‘No doubt,’ agreed Lady Trescombe drily. ‘If it will help at all, I will write to her.’

      Cordelia hesitated. ‘Well, that would be marvellous, but I don’t want to—to hide behind you, Lady Trescombe.’

      ‘I fancy that you are not in the habit of hiding behind anyone, Miss Gibson. Let me see, it is now the last week of April, I wish to travel in one month’s time. I should be obliged if you will take up your post two weeks before that so that Eileen may get to know you. That will make it around the twenty-third of the month. Will you arrange that? I think it may be best if I send the car for you.’

      She smiled suddenly. ‘I believe that we shall understand each other very well. Will you have a cup of tea before you go? I intend to have one, interviewing is dry work. If you would be so good as to ‘phone down? Tea and buttered toast.’

      Cordelia with rumbling insides, thankfully accepted and did as she was bidden, and when tea came, ate the delicious, thin slivers of buttery toast with slow daintiness, subduing an urge to bolt the lot.

      Lady Trescombe, it transpired, lived just outside Guildford and it was there that Cordelia СКАЧАТЬ