A Kind of Magic. Betty Neels

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СКАЧАТЬ when a cheerful matron from Chicago remarked that it was a shame that her granny was sick, and wouldn’t they like to sit with them at dinner?

      Rosie listened to her grandmother explaining in well-modulated tones that conversation gave her a headache, and it was essential that she should take her meals without distraction. The Americans were nice; they offered sympathy with a friendliness which Rosie would have liked to have reciprocated.

      So they dined presently, she and her grandmother, sitting in a near silence, Mrs Macdonald in black crêpe and pearls, and Rosie in silk jersey, the old lady apparently oblivious of the convivial atmosphere around them. Rosie was quite glad when the old lady said that she would go to bed shortly after dinner. Of course, an hour passed before she was in her bed, and another half-hour before Rosie was told that she might go to her own cabin.

      ‘A pleasant day,’ commented Mrs Macdonald. ‘I hope you’ll make sure that I am called with China tea at half-past seven, Rosie?’

      Rosie simply said, ‘Yes, Granny’ to both remarks, and sped back to the observation car to spend the next hour or so exchanging light-hearted views and opinions with everyone there.

      The next day the train took them to Mallaig, and although Mrs Macdonald refused to get out of the train Rosie was dispatched into the village to get postcards and stamps—an excuse to walk briskly down to the harbour and watch the ferry from Skye come in, where she was swept into a friendly group of passengers. The pleasant little interlude cheered her before going back to her grandmother, to sit with her, watching the familiar countryside and listening to the old lady’s reminiscences. They were going back over Rannoch Moor again to stay for the night at Bridge of Orchy, and the scene was familiar. Rosie’s old home wasn’t far away—a nice old house tucked away at the foot of the mountains behind Oban. She longed to see it again, but her grandmother, who had never approved of her father allowing it to pass into the hands of his cousin, had stated categorically that she had no wish to see it. It was a pointless remark, for the train didn’t go within a dozen miles of it.

      There was another visit to a local country estate that evening, but Mrs Macdonald declared herself too tired to go. She and Rosie dined alone to the great inconvenience of the train staff, Rosie thought, although they presented smiling faces when her grandmother requested dinner to be served at the usual time. Everyone else had gone off in the coach and would have a buffet supper at the house they were to visit.

      Rosie settled her grandparent for the night, went back to the observation car, and was presently overwhelmed by the returning passengers, eager to tell her about the house they had seen, and the buffet super. They were kind, and concerned that she was having such a dull time of it.

      ‘But tomorrow we’re all going to the wildlife park,’ one woman remarked. ‘Your grandmother could come in the coach and be put down at the hotel in Aviemore, Rosie. That would be nice and quiet for her, and you could come with us…’

      It sounded a splendid idea, Rosie agreed. ‘But I’ll have to see how Granny feels about it,’ she reminded them.

      She had been too hopeful. In the morning Mrs Macdonald declared that she intended to visit the hotel by the station where she had stayed years ago. ‘With your grandfather, dear—a sentimental visit I have long looked forward to.’ When Rosie said hopefully that she might like to be on her own there, she was told at once that probably the emotion stirred up by fond memories might upset her grandmother; it was essential that she had Rosie beside her.

      Rosie watched the coach drive away once more and, presently warned by Jamie, the guide, as he got into the coach, that the train would leave in an hour’s time for Perth and Stirling, the pair of them walked the very short distance from the train to the hotel.

      It had of course, changed hands. Which didn’t stop her grandmother insisting upon seeing round the hotel, pausing from time to time to make some blistering remark about the changes in the rooms. The owner was patient and courteous, but even his politeness wore thin when Mrs Macdonald criticised the colour scheme in the dining-room in no uncertain terms.

      Time I did something, decided Rosie, and asked if they might have coffee.

      They drank it in the pleasant lounge on the other side of the foyer and after a short time she said, ‘We should be going back, Granny, the train’s due to leave in ten minutes…’

      ‘I cannot be hurried, my dear. I intend to take a quick look at the gardens at the back of the hotel—five minutes only I promise you—and I wish to be alone. Wait here.’

      Rosie paid the bill, and went to the hotel entrance. She could see the train clearly enough, five minutes would suffice to get her grandmother back on board. She knew that the schedule was strict, for the train had to fit in exactly with the normal timetable, and they had been warned in the nicest possible way by Jamie that if anyone missed it they would have to find their way to the next stopping-place. She glanced at her watch—her grandmother had been gone for five minutes and there was no sign of her.

      The gardens behind the hotel were neatly laid out with a variety of shrubs and beds of flowers, petering out into rough grass hedged with gorse and broom, ferns and, later in the year, heather. She found her grandmother there huddled on the ground, one leg bent awkwardly. Mrs Macdonald’s face was paper-white, but she had lost very little of her brisk manner.

      ‘My leg,’ she explained ‘I tripped. The ankle…’

      ‘I’ll get help,’ said Rosie, who when necessary could be just as brisk as her granny, and sped back to the hotel, where she sent the owner and one of the waiters to carry her grandmother in, and then turned and ran back to the station.

      Will, one of the stewards, was on the platform.

      ‘We’re off in just under five minutes, Miss Macdonald,’ he began.

      Rosie told him what had happened, and before she had finished the train manager had joined them.

      ‘We shall have to stay behind,’ she told him. ‘We’ll never be able to get my grandmother on to the train, and she needs a doctor quickly. I know that you have to leave on the dot. Could someone pack our things and send them back here on one of the local trains? I can’t think of anything else to do…’

      ‘I’ll come to the hotel.’ The manager glanced at his watch, and began marching her back. ‘I’m so very sorry, but you do see that the journey can’t be delayed or altered…?’

      ‘Yes, of course. We shall be quite all right here, but I think that if it’s a sprain or a break we shall have to stay for a while until something can be arranged.’

      They had reached the hotel, and found Mrs Macdonald laid out on a big sofa. She had lost her shoe when she fell, and the ankle was badly swollen. She opened her eyes as they reached her, and said peevishly, ‘I intend to remain here until a doctor has examined me. Rosie will make the necessary arrangements. Good of you to come.’

      The manager was a nice youngish man; he said all that was proper and, with his eye on the time, wished her a speedy recovery, and promised that she would hear from him.

      ‘I’ll phone you from Stirling,’ he promised, ‘and I’ll see about your luggage. Has someone phoned for a doctor? There should be one at Crianlarich and several in Oban.’

      ‘Don’t worry, the hotel owner will know.’ Rosie added urgently, ‘Don’t, for heaven’s sake, miss the train.’

      ‘I hate to leave you both—’ he shook her hand СКАЧАТЬ