Magic in Vienna

‘He goes tomorrow.’

‘So you’ll have nothing to do on Saturday—you’d better turn out the schoolroom. And see that Chloë’s things are ready by Friday afternoon; I want to leave after lunch.’

There were three days to go; Cordelia wrote a polite note confirming her interview, counted her money and worked out bus times to fit in with trains from St Albans. The buses didn’t fit in; she would never be able to catch the morning bus from the village although she thought she would be able to catch the early evening bus back from St Albans; there was one at five o’clock too, she might manage to catch that one. A taxi was the answer but she hadn’t enough money. She went through her usual chores worrying away at her problems and by Friday morning she still hadn’t solved it. She had gone to the kitchen to fetch the tray for breakfast when Cook stopped her. ‘Something’s on your mind, Miss Cordelia?’

‘Well, I don’t think I’ll be able to get to London—there’s no bus to get me to St Albans. I’ll have to ‘phone and cancel the whole thing.’

Cook turned the bacon she was frying. ‘No need, dearie, my nephew Sam he’s going to London tomorrow—he’ll take you the whole way and be glad to do it.’

Cordelia put down her tray. ‘Cook, you angel. Will he really? I’ll pay my share of the petrol…’

‘Indeed you won’t, Miss Cordelia, for it’s not costing him anything extra and he’ll have company. He won’t be able to bring you back though…’

‘That’s okay—there are several trains in 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 would go to start with. ‘You will naturally have time to do whatever shopping you may need,’ she pointed out and eyed Cordelia’s unassuming appearance. She added, probably due to her scrutiny, ‘I daresay that you have very little need for town clothes since you live in the country; I suggest that I advance you a part of your salary so that you may buy anything you might need, but we can discuss that later.’ She put down her cup and saucer and said with a smile: ‘I think that is all, unless you have any questions?’

‘Not at the moment, thank you, Lady Trescombe.’ Cordelia had got up, sensing that the interview was over. ‘I shall do my best with Eileen and I’m most grateful for being given the chance to work for you.’

They shook hands and Lady Trescombe said: ‘I’ll write and confirm this and also write, as I suggested, to your stepmother. I must warn you again, though, that if my son doesn’t wish to have you remain with Eileen in Vienna the job may only last a fortnight or so.’

‘I understand that,’ Cordelia’s voice was quite firm; she had her chance and she was going to seize it with both hands and not worry too much about what would happen next. She thought that she had a good chance of staying; middle aged bachelors might not take too kindly to someone young and pretty invading their calm households, but she was neither, she had learnt long ago to merge into the background and she would go on doing that if necessary.

The doorman touched his cap as she left the hotel and offered to get her a taxi. She beamed at him, suddenly delighted with her world. ‘I’ll walk, thank you,’ she told him and set off briskly and turned the corner in to Grafton Street and thence as fast as she could go into Regent Street. If she didn’t have to wait too long for a bus she would be able to catch the five o’clock train.

She got back in good time to fetch the twins, who had, she gathered from Mrs King’s veiled remarks, behaved badly. They were both peevish and almost unmanageable; getting them to bed took all her patience and most of her strength. Lady Trescombe had warned her that her granddaughter was spoilt but at least there was only one of her, thought Cordelia, as she ate her supper later on. She was sharing it with Cook, pouring into that sympathetic lady’s ears all the excitements of her day.

‘It sounds a treat,’ commented Cook, ‘and depend upon it, you being such a nice young lady, the gentleman will want you to stay, Miss Cordelia.’

Cordelia hoped most fervently that that would be so. The letter offering her the job, arrived on Monday, so did a letter for her stepmother who read it with outraged disapproval and then subjected Cordelia to half an hour’s invective and reproaches. Not that they made any difference to Cordelia, who listened with a calm patience which served to annoy that lady even more.

But beyond railing at her, there was very little her stepmother could do; she was a grown woman, penniless it was true, but independent. She suggested quietly that her stepmother should advertise for an au pair or a home help to take her place and then went up to the attics to search for the suit case she had used years ago when she had gone to boarding school. It was shabby, but it would have to do. She carried it down to her room and cleaned it up and put it in the bottom of the old fashioned wardrobe; it gave her a nice feeling of security although there were three weeks before she could take up her new job.

Chloë and the twins took the news that she was leaving with little interest although they grumbled a good deal at the idea of having someone in her place. Not because they minded her going, Chloë was quick to point out, but because their mother had warned them that whoever came would be able to go again whenever she liked, unlike their ungrateful stepsister, she had added nastily. And since she had no intention of engaging a series of au pairs, they would have to behave themselves. ‘But of course,’ said Chloë rudely, ‘I’ll do exactly what I like; I’ve never listened to you, and I don’t intend to listen to whoever comes, whatever Mother says.’

Cordelia hadn’t answered; they were all making life as hard as possible for the last week or two, but she hardly noticed; she thought a great deal about the girl she was to look after and speculated a good deal about the uncle in Vienna. Lady Trescombe was in her sixties, she guessed, which meant that her son would probably be verging on forty or perhaps older than that; a balding misogynist probably, since he wasn’t married, quite likely he didn’t much like children, and she and Eileen would have to keep out of his way. Of course, mused Cordelia, he might take an interest, but he also might take an instant dislike to herself and send her packing, but at least he would have to pay her fare back and she would have a little money. She refused to think beyond that; she had waited a long while for something to happen and now that it had, she refused to believe that anything could go wrong.

The three weeks went very slowly but she went around the house doing the chores she had always done and whenever she could, went to her room and did what she could with her meagre wardrobe. She looked with dislike at each garment in turn, really there was nothing fit to wear except a handful of woollies and a sober mouse-coloured dress. She would have to spend all the money she was to have advanced; fortunately it was almost summer and she could get by with a skirt and blouses and perhaps a jacket; there was the question of something decent to wear in the evening too—a long skirt and a couple of blouses might do. If only she could lay her hands on a sewing machine and some material… She might have borrowed the former from someone in the village but she had no more than a pound or two in her purse and very little opportunity to go to St Albans. She would have to do the best she could once she got to Guildford and in the meantime she washed and ironed and pressed and thought happily of the new clothes she would buy.

Her stepmother hardly spoke to her and when, at last the day of her departure arrived, a splendidly warm sunny morning too, so that Cordelia felt all wrong in the grey dress, Mrs Gibson turned her back on her when her step-daughter went along to her room to say goodbye.

‘Don’t think you can come back here, Cordelia, I’m sure I don’t want to see you again—the ingratitude…’

Cordelia went out of the room without a word; Chloë was in the schoolroom reading; she glanced up for a moment as Cordelia went in, said goodbye carelessly and went back to her reading. The twins had already gone to school with never a backward glance. She went to the kitchen and took her leave of Cook, who began to cry. ‘There are those who’ll be sorry for this,’ she uttered fiercely, ‘letting you go without so much as a pound note and wearing clothes I wouldn’t give to the jumble! begging your pardon, Miss Cordelia.’ She pressed a small packet into Cordelia’s hand. ‘Don’t open it now, love—it’s just a little something so that you will remember me. And the village wishes you well, you know that. Write when you have time…’

‘Of course I shall, Cook, and thank you for your present.’ Cordelia bent and kissed the elderly cheek. ‘I’m sure I’m going to be happy.’ And since Cook was still weeping she added cheerfully: ‘I’ll meet a rich man who’ll fall head over heels in love with me and we’ll set up house and you shall come and cook for us.’