Promise of Happiness. Betty Neels

will be sailing on a cruise ship from this port late this afternoon. Unfortunately, I have to be back in Holland by tomorrow morning at the latest, which means that I must leave very shortly.’ He added, as though it were a foregone conclusion: ‘The post should suit you very well.’

      Becky sat up straight. ‘I should like to ask some questions,’ and at his impatient frown: ‘I’ll be quick. Where are we going?’

      He looked surprised. ‘I didn’t mention it? Trondheim, in Norway. I have an aunt living there whom my mother wishes to visit.’

      ‘I have no clothes…’

      ‘Easily remedied. A couple of hours’ shopping.’

      ‘What happens when I leave?’ She suddenly caught Pooch close so that he let out a raucous protest. ‘And what about Pooch and Bertie?’ she frowned. ‘How can I possibly…’

      ‘You will return to Holland with my mother where it should be easy enough for you to get a job in one of the hospitals. I shall, of course, give you any help you may need. As to the animals, may I suggest that I take them with me to Holland where they will be well cared for at my home until you return there; after that it should be a simple matter to get a small flat for yourself where they can live.’

      ‘Quarantine?’

      ‘There is none—only injections, which I will undertake to see about.’

      It all sounded so easy; she perceived that if you were important and rich enough, most things were easy. All the same she hesitated. ‘I’m not sure if they’ll like it…’

      He smiled quite kindly then. ‘I promise you that they will have the best of treatment and be cared for.’

      ‘Yes, I know, but supposing…’

      ‘What is the alternative, Becky?’ He wasn’t smiling now and he sounded impatient again.

      The alternative didn’t bear thinking about. She couldn’t be sure of getting a job, in the first place, and just supposing she should meet Basil or her stepmother before she had found somewhere to live. He was watching her narrowly. ‘Not very attractive, is it?’ he asked, ‘and you have only enough money for a meal—thirty pounds and—er—sixty pence wouldn’t buy you a bed for more than three nights, you know.’

      His mother looked at Becky. ‘My dear child, is that all the money you have? And why is that? And why did you leave your home?’

      ‘With your permission, Mama; you will have time enough to discuss the whole situation. If Becky could decide—now—there are several matters which I must attend to…’

      She was annoying him now, she could see that, but what seemed so simple from his point of view was an entirely different matter for her. But she would have to agree; the idea of parting with her pets was unpleasant enough, but at least they would be safe and cared for and after a week or so she would be able to collect them and start a new life for herself. To clinch the matter she suddenly remembered the quarantine laws; she would never have enough money to pay the fees—besides, there was no one and nothing to keep her in England. ‘Thank you, I’ll take the job,’ she said in a resolute voice.

      ‘Good, then let us waste no more time. My mother will explain the details later. What fee were you to pay the nurse you dismissed, Mama?’

      Son and parent exchanged a speaking glance. ‘Sixty pounds a week with—how do you say?— board and lodging.’

      ‘But that’s too much!’ protested Becky.

      ‘You will forgive me if I remind you that you have been living in, how shall we say? retirement for the past two years. That is the normal pay for a trained nurse working privately. Over and above that you will receive travelling expenses, and a uniform allowance.’ He took some notes from a pocket and peeled off several. ‘Perhaps you will go now and buy what you think necessary. Your uniform allowance is here, and an advance on your week’s pay.’

      Becky took the money, longing to count it, but that might look greedy. ‘I haven’t any clothes,’ she pointed out, ‘so I’d better buy uniform dresses, hadn’t I?’

      ‘Yes, do that, my dear,’ interpolated the Baroness. ‘You can go shopping in Trondheim and buy the clothes you need.’

      Becky found herself in a taxi, the Baron’s cool apologies in her ear. He intended leaving at any moment; she was to take a taxi back to the hotel when she had done her shopping. ‘And don’t be too long about it,’ he begged her forthrightly, ‘although you don’t look to me to be the kind of girl who fusses over her clothes.’ A remark which she had to allow was completely justified but hardly flattering. She had bidden Bertie and Pooch goodbye and hated doing it, but they had looked content enough, sitting quietly by the Baroness. At the last moment she poked her head out of the taxi window.

      ‘You will look after them, won’t you? They’ll be so lonely…’

      ‘I give you my word, Becky, and remember that in a few weeks’ time you will be able to make a home for them.’

      She nodded, quite unable to speak for the lump in her throat.

      She felt better presently. The Baron didn’t like her particularly, she was sure, and yet she felt that she could trust him and upon reflection, she had saved him a lot of time and bother finding another nurse for his mother. She counted the money he had given her and felt quite faint at the amount and then being a practical girl, made a mental list of the things she would need.

      It took her just two hours in which to do her shopping; some neat dark blue uniform dresses, because she could wear those each and every day, a blue cardigan and a navy blue raincoat, shoes and stockings and an unassuming handbag and then the more interesting part; undies and a thin dressing gown she could pack easily, and things for her face and her hair. All the same, there was quite a lot of money over. She found a suitcase to house her modest purchases and, obedient to the Baron’s wish, took a taxi back to the hotel.

      She found her patient lying on a chaise-longue drawn up to the window, a tray of coffee on the table at her elbow. ‘I hope I haven’t been too long,’ began Becky, trying not to look at the corner where Bertie and Pooch had been sitting.

      ‘No, my dear. Tiele went about an hour ago, and your animals went quite happily with him. I must tell you that he has a great liking for animals and they like him.’ Her eyes fell upon the case Becky was carrying. ‘You bought all that you require?’ She nodded to herself without waiting for Becky to reply. ‘Then come and have coffee with me and we will get to know each other. Tiele has arranged for us to be taken to the ship in good time; we will have lunch presently—here, I think, as I do dislike being pushed around in that chair—then we shall have time for a rest before we go. I’m sure you must be wondering just where we are going and why,’ she added. ‘Give me another cup of coffee, child, and I will tell you. I have been staying with an old friend at Blanchland, but unfortunately within two days of arriving I fell down some steps and injured my legs. Tiele came over at once, of course, and saw to everything, and I remained at my friend’s house until I was fit to travel again. I could have remained there, but I have a sister living in Trondheim and as I had arranged to visit her before their summer is over, I prevailed upon Tiele to arrange things so that I might go. I get tired in a car and I suffer badly from air-sickness, so he decided that the best plan was for me to go by ship and since there is time enough, to go in comfort and leisure. We shall be sailing to Tilbury first and then to Hamburg and from there to Trondheim, where I intend to stay for three weeks. By then, with your help and that of the local doctor, I should be able to hobble and be out of this wheelchair. I have no idea how we shall return to Holland—Tiele will decide that when the time comes.’

      Becky said: ‘Yes, of course,’ in a rather faint voice. After two years or more of isolation and hard work, events were crowding in on her so that she felt quite bewildered. ‘Where do you live in Holland?’ she asked.

      ‘Our home is in Friesland, north of Leeuwarden. I don’t live with Tiele, of course, now that I am alone I have moved to a