Magic in Vienna. Betty Neels

was getting, if she saved most of it, would cushion her nicely against the uncertain future.

      She had, while they had been on board, spent some time in deciding what she would buy once they were in Vienna, her wardrobe was, after all meagre, but now she realised that half a dozen sacks would do just as well as far as Uncle Charles was concerned and she wasn’t likely to make many friends. She would be able to manage very well with what she had.

      The pair of them unpacked while Eileen discussed her uncle.

      ‘It’s not polite to talk about him when we’re guests under his roof,’ reproved Cordelia.

      ‘Well I don’t think I like him, I expect he thinks we’re a nuisance…’

      ‘Quite likely. You see he lives alone and has only had himself to consider. I’m quite sorry for him—I daresay he’s a very lonely man.’

      Eileen, under Cordelia’s direction, was laying shoes and slippers in a neat row in the clothes closet. ‘Well, he can get married.’ She turned to look at Cordelia. ‘I don’t suppose you fancy him?’

      ‘No,’ said Cordelia, ‘I don’t think I do, and isn’t that a good thing for I don’t suppose I’d make much headway, would I?’

      They giggled at the very idea, finished their unpacking and went downstairs again.

      Lunch was ready as they reached the hall, delayed for half an hour so that Dr Trescombe could talk to his mother. They ate it in a sombre heavily furnished room, sitting spaced out round an oval table. The doctor was a good host; he included Eileen and Cordelia in the conversation and was attentive to their wants, all the same Cordelia was relieved when they went back to the drawing room for their coffee, and presently she gave a speaking look to Eileen and carried that reluctant young lady off to her room.

      ‘Are you going back to the drawing room?’ she wanted to know as Cordelia prepared to leave her.

      ‘Me? Heavens no. Your grandmother and uncle will want to talk together.’ She could imagine the polite conversation they would maintain if she were foolish enough to rejoin them, concealing their impatience with well-bred courtesy. ‘I shall go to my room for a bit, presently I should think we might go out and take a look round. There’s a park close by, unless your grandmother or uncle want you…’

      She left Eileen with a book and went along to her own room and did her face and hair again for something to do and then went and sat by the window and watched the street below. She hoped that Uncle Charles wasn’t going to dislike her, it was disheartening that he had such a poor opinion of her, but perhaps that wasn’t such a bad thing; he’d be more likely to ignore her. And in the meanwhile, here she was in Vienna, living in what to her was the lap of luxury and with untold museums, monuments and palaces to explore. Money to spend too, although she would have to save most of it.

      An hour, she judged, seemed a suitable period in which to leave mother and son together; she went through the connecting door to Eileen’s room, cast a critical eye over her appearance, and suggested that it might be a good idea to find Lady Trescombe and discover her plans for the rest of the day.

      An unnecessary exercise, as it turned out for Mrs Thompson knocked on the door with the request that Miss Eileen should go down to the drawing room to her grandmother, and Miss Gibson was asked to go at once to Dr Trescombe’s study.

      A gloomy, book-lined apartment, she discovered, with dark green curtains draped on either side of the big window and a wide desk set at an angle to the door. The doctor sat behind it, but he got up as she went in and offered her one of the stiff little leather armchairs opposite the desk.

      This done, he went to the window and rather impatiently pulled back the curtains so that there was more light in the room. It fell on to Cordelia’s face but she didn’t turn away from it: in fact she was a practical girl and he’d already decided that she had no looks…

      He studied her in a detached way for a few moments. ‘My mother tells me that Eileen likes you, a sufficient recommendation for you to remain here. But I cannot stress sufficiently that you must take sole charge of her; I have had very little to do with children and my work precludes my participation in an active social life. I leave you to decide what is suitable for Eileen’s entertainment and rely upon you to keep her suitably occupied.’

      ‘In short, Dr Trescombe, you don’t want to be aware that we are here.’ Cordelia spoke quietly in a matter-of-fact voice but the doctor’s eyebrows rose.

      ‘You put it rather more frankly than necessary, Miss Gibson, but yes, that is what I wish.’

      ‘I shall do my best,’ observed Cordelia calmly, ‘but of course Eileen is a high spirited child, to keep her quite silent will be difficult.’

      ‘I am not an ogre,’ said the doctor sharply. ‘I shall expect you to come to me if you need help of any sort and naturally, I wish Eileen to be happy while she is here.’ He sat back in his chair and said in a more friendly voice. ‘You will both take your meals with me; I am seldom home for lunch, but I hope that you will both join me for breakfast and dinner. Occasionally I have guests, and probably it may be better if you and Eileen dine alone—the talk is usually in German.’

      Cordelia decided that it was unnecessary to tell him that she knew something of that language. And anyway, Lady Trescombe may have mentioned it. She quite understood that neither Eileen nor herself were likely to add much sparkle to a dinner party and she agreed without hesitation.

      ‘In which case, I don’t need to keep you any longer, Miss Gibson. I believe my mother wishes to drive to the shops with Eileen and give her tea at Sacher’s. If you care to go out and find your way around for a short time? Mrs Thompson will give you your tea when you return. We dine at eight o’clock.’

      He got up and went to open the door for her. Nice manners, thought Cordelia, once more in the hall, but what a waste; head buried in his books when he’s not examining his patients. I believe he’s scared of having us here. Afraid that we’ll upset his bachelor life. She went to her room, dabbed some more powder on her nose, tucked her handbag under her arm and left the house, having been informed by Thompson, hovering in the hall that Lady Trescombe and Miss Eileen had gone off in a taxi. He smiled at her very kindly and pressed a map of the city into her hand before she went. ‘I’ve marked this building with a cross in ink, Miss,’ he advised her, ‘if you miss your way all you need to do is get a taxi and show the driver the map.’

      She thanked him, much cheered by his thoughtfulness, and set off in the direction of the ring. From a hasty look at the map, she saw that provided she kept to it, she would eventually get back to the doctor’s apartment, for the Ring encircled the inner City and was clearly marked.

      She paused uncertainly on the edge of the pavement, deciding whether to go left or right, and the doctor, watching her from the window of his study, smiled as she turned briskly to the left, where in the distance, she could see the reassuring bulk of the houses of Parliament.