Promise of Happiness. Betty Neels

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СКАЧАТЬ after she had spent half an hour with the Baroness preparing that lady for her own breakfast in bed. And then there was the business of helping her patient to dress, getting her into her wheelchair and taking her to whichever part of the ship she preferred. Here they stayed for an hour or so, taking their coffee, chatting a little and enjoying the sun. Becky read aloud too, because the Baroness said it tried her eyes to read for herself, until half an hour or so before lunch when Becky was sent off to walk round the decks or potter round the shop and buy postcards at the purser’s office for the Baroness. They were to dock at Tilbury in the morning and as the ship wouldn’t sail for Hamburg until the late afternoon the Baroness had suggested that Becky could go up to London and do some shopping and rejoin the ship after lunch. But this Becky declined to do; so far, she considered, she hadn’t earned half her salary. She had been hired to look after her patient and that she intended to do. Instead, the two of them spent a peaceful day in the Baroness’s stateroom playing bezique, and taking a slow wander round the deck on the quiet ship. But by tea time the passengers were coming aboard and the pair of them retired once more to the little balcony leading from the suite, from where they watched the bustle and to-ing and fro-ing going on below them.

      They sailed soon afterwards and Becky, leaving her patient with a considerable pile of mail to read, went on deck to watch the ship leave. She hung over the rails, determined not to miss a thing, and it was half an hour before she tore herself away from watching the busy river scene and returned to the stateroom. The Baroness was telephoning, but she broke off what she was saying to tell Becky: ‘It is Tiele—making sure that we are quite all right.’ And at Becky’s look of surprise: ‘He’s back in Friesland, and I’m to tell you that Pooch and Bertie have settled down very well.’ She nodded dismissal and Becky slipped away to her own cabin.

      She had collected all the literature about the voyage that she could lay hands on, and now she sat down and studied it; Hamburg next and then Trondheim. There was a whole day at sea first, though, and more than a day between Hamburg and Trondheim. She began to read the leaflet she had been given and only put it down when her patient called to her through the slightly open door.

      At Hamburg the Baroness declared her intention of going ashore. The purser, summoned to the cabin, assured her that a taxi should be arranged without difficulty, that help would be at hand to wheel the chair down the gangway and that the Baroness need have no worry herself further. To Becky, accustomed to doing everything for herself, it seemed the height of comfort. And indeed, when the ship docked there was nothing for her to do beyond readying her patient for the outing and then walking beside the chair while a steward wheeled it carefully on to the quay. There were several busloads of passengers going on shore excursions and they had been advised by the purser to get back before these returned or the new passengers began to embark. ‘Plenty of time,’ said the Baroness easily. ‘We will drive round the city, take a look at the Binnenalster and the Aussenalster and the driver can take us to a confectioner’s so that you can buy me some of the chocolates Tiele always brings me when he comes here.’

      She was arranged comfortably in the taxi, accorded a courteous farewell by the officer on duty whom she warned not to allow the ship to leave until her return, and was driven away, with Becky sitting beside her.

      It was all very exciting; first the journey through the dock area, which the Baroness didn’t bother to look at, but which Becky found absorbing, and then presently the shopping streets and a brief glimpse of the inner lake. ‘It is much prettier once we have crossed the Kennedybrucke,’ said the Baroness. She said something to the driver in German and he slowed down to take the pleasant road running alongside the lake, its calm water gleaming in the sunshine, the well kept villas in their splendid grounds facing it. Becky’s face lighted up and a little colour came into it. ‘Oh, this is super!’ she declared. ‘I had no idea…’

      Her companion cast her a glance full of sympathy, but all she said was: ‘I think you will like Trondheim better, although it is a great deal smaller, of course.’

      They circled the lake slowly before going back to the shopping centre where the driver parked outside a confectioner’s whose windows displayed extravagantly boxed sweets of every sort, and Becky, obedient to her patient’s request, went rather hesitantly inside. There were no difficulties, however. She was perfectly understood, her purchases were made and paid for and with several prettily wrapped boxes she got back into the taxi. It surprised her very much when the taxi stopped once more and the driver got out, went into a café and emerged presently with a waiter carrying a tray with coffee and cream cakes. The tray was set carefully upon Becky’s knees and they were left to take their elevenses in peace. ‘I like my little comforts,’ explained the Baroness placidly. And get them too, thought Becky admiringly.

      Their return to the ship was as smooth as their departure had been. A steward was by the taxi door almost before it had stopped and the Baroness was bestowed carefully into her wheelchair once more. Only when she was quite comfortable did she open her handbag and pay the driver—generously too, if the smile on his face was anything to go by. Becky, trotting along beside the chair, wondered what it must be like to be rich enough to command all the attention and comfort one required without apparent effort. Probably one got used to it and took it as a matter of course; thinking about it, she remembered that the Baron hadn’t seemed surprised when she had accepted the job he had offered her out of the blue. She was deeply grateful to him, of course, but at the same time she couldn’t help wondering what he would have done if she had refused.

      The Baroness was tired after their outing, so she elected to take a light lunch in her stateroom and then rest, sending Becky down to the restaurant for her own lunch while she ate hers. Becky found the place quite full, for a good many more passengers had boarded the ship that morning. She sat at her table, set discreetly in a corner, and ate a rather hurried meal, in case the Baroness should want her the minute she had finished her own lunch, and then slipped away, smiling rather shyly at the waiter as she did so. She hadn’t quite got used to being waited on.

      The Baroness was drinking her coffee but professed herself quite ready to rest. Becky made her comfortable on the sofa along one wall, covered her with a rug and sat down nearby because her patient had asked her not to go away for a little while. ‘I’m expecting a call from Tiele,’ explained the Baroness, ‘and if you would stay until it comes through…’ She closed her eyes and dozed while Becky sat, still as a mouse, listening to the exciting noises going on all around them—people talking, music coming from somewhere, but faintly, the winch loading the luggage, an occasional voice raised in command or order. It was all very exciting; she contemplated her new shoes and thought about the Baron, his mother, the journey they were about to make, Norway, about which she knew almost nothing, and then the Baron again. It was a pity he didn’t like her, but very understandable, and it made his kindness in taking care of Bertie and Pooch all the greater; it couldn’t be much fun doing kindnesses to someone you didn’t care a row of pins for. Her thoughts were interrupted by the faint tinkle of the telephone, and she picked it up quickly with a glance at the still sleeping Baroness. Her hullo was quiet and the Baron said at once: ‘Becky? My mother’s asleep?’

      ‘Yes, but I think she would like me to wake her, if you would wait a moment.’

      He didn’t answer her but asked: ‘You’re settling down, I hope? No snags? You won’t give way to seasickness or anything of that sort, I hope?’ She heard him sigh. ‘You didn’t look very strong.’

      Becky’s voice stayed quiet but held indignation. ‘I’m very strong,’ she told him quite sharply, ‘and as the sea is as calm as a millpond, I’m not likely to be seasick.’

      ‘You seem to have a temper too,’ remarked the Baron. ‘As long as you don’t vent it on my mother…’

      ‘Well,’ breathed Becky, her chest swelling with rage under the neat dress, ‘I never did! As though I would! And I haven’t got a temper…’

      ‘I’m СКАЧАТЬ