“I thought you said they had been translated.”
“Yes … in a way. All these things are so cryptic. The meaning is couched in words which are not quite clear.”
“Why do people have to be so obscure?”
“To bring in an element of mystery, don’t you think? It adds to the interest. It’s the same with people. When you discover subtleties in their characters you become more interested.”
He smiled at me, his eyes saying something which I did not understand.
“You will eventually discover that I am right,” he said.
“You mean when I’m older?”
“I believe you resent people referring to your youth.”
“Well, I suppose it implies that one is not yet capable of understanding much.”
“You should revel in your youth. The poets have said it passes too quickly.
“Gather ye rosebuds while ye may.” He smiled at me with a benignity which was almost tender.
I was a little thoughtful after that and I guessed that he was aware of it.
After dinner I went out with the ladies and when the men joined us I did not talk to him again.
Later Felicity asked me how I had liked him.
She said: “I saw you were getting on very well with him.”
“I think he is the sort who would get on well with anyone … superficially.”
She hesitated for a second, then she said: “Yes … you are right.”
It seemed significant afterwards that what I remembered most clearly about that visit was my meeting with Hadrian Edward Lucas Lorimer.
When I came home for the Christmas holiday my parents seemed more animated than usual . even excited. The only thing I imagine which could make them feel so would be some new knowledge they had acquired.
A breakthrough in their understanding of their work? A new stone to replace the Rosetta?
It was nothing of the sort.
As soon as I arrived they wanted to talk to me.
“Something rather interesting has occurred,” said my mother.
My father smiled at me indulgently, I thought.
“And,” he added, ‘it concerns you. “
I was startled.
“Let us explain,” said my mother.
“We have been invited to do a most interesting lecture tour. This takes us to Cape Town and on the way back to Baltimore and New York.”
“Oh? You will be away for a long time.”
“Your mother thinks it would be interesting to combine a holiday with work,” said my father.
“He has been working far too hard recently. Of course we will not leave it altogether. He can be working on his new book …”
“Of course,” I murmured.
“We plan to go by ship to Cape Town … a long sea voyage. We shall stay a few days there while your father does one of his lectures.
Meanwhile the ship goes on to Durban and we shall pick it up again when it returns to Cape Town. It is calling at Baltimore where we shall leave it again-another lecture-then we shall travel up to New York by land where your father will give the last of his lectures and then we shall take another ship for home. “
“It sounds very interesting.”
There was a slight pause.
My father looked at my mother and said: “We have decided that you shall accompany us.”
I was too astonished to speak. Then I stammered: “You … er … you really mean that?”
“It will be good for you to see a little of the world,” said my father benignly.
“When … when?” I asked.
“We are setting forth at the end of April. There will be a great many preparations to make.”
“I shall be at school.”
“You would be leaving at the end of the summer term in any case. We thought that little could be lost by cutting it short. After all, you will be nearly eighteen years of age. That is quite mature.”
“I hope you are pleased,” said my father.
“I am just… so surprised.”
They smiled at me.
“You will need to make your own preparations. You could consult Felicity Wills … or rather Grafton. She has become quite worldly since her marriage. She would know what you needed. Perhaps two or three evening dresses for functions . and some . er . suitable garments. “
“Oh yes … yes,” I said.
After brooding on the matter I was not sure whether I was pleased or not. The idea of travelling and seeing new places enthralled me. On the other hand I would be in the company of my parents and, I presumed, people so weighed down by their own scholarship that they would naturally reduce me to the status of an ignorant girl.
The prospect of new clothes was pleasant. I could not wait to consult Felicity.
I wrote to her and told her of the project.
She replied at once.
“How thrilling. James has to go up North for a few days in March. I have a wonderful nanny who adores Jamie and he her. So I could come to London for a few days and we’ll have an orgy of shopping.”
As the weeks passed the prospect of travelling abroad so enchanted me that I forgot the disadvantages that would go with it.
In due course Felicity came to London and as I had expected she threw herself wholeheartedly into the business of finding the right clothes. I was aware that she regarded me in a different light now that I was no longer a schoolgirl.
“Your hair is most striking,” she said.
“Your greatest asset. We’ll have to plan with that in mind.”
“My hair?” I had not thought about it before, except that it was unusually fair. It was long, straight and thick.
“It’s the colour of corn,” said Felicity.
“It’s what they call golden.
It really is very attractive. You’ll be able to do all sorts of things with it. You can wear it piled high on your head when you want to be dignified or tied back with a ribbon or even plaited when you want to look demure. You can have a lot of fun with it. And we’ll concentrate on blue to bring out the colour of your eyes. “
My parents had gone to Oxford so we reverted to old customs and had our meals in the kitchen. It was just like old times and we prevailed on Mr. Dolland to do his Hamlet or Henry V and the eerie excerpts from The Bells for the sake of the old days.
We missed Nanny Pollock but I wrote and told her what was happening and she was now very happy, completely absorbed by little Evelyn who was a ‘pickle’ and reminded her of what I had been at her age.
I paraded round the kitchen in my new garments which resulted in oohs and ahs from Meg and Emily and a few caustic comments from Mrs. Harlow who muttered something about fashions nowadays.
It was a very happy time and it did occur to me now and then that the preliminaries of travel might be more pleasant than the actuality.
It was with regret that I said goodbye to Felicity and she returned to Oxford. The day was fast approaching when we would set out for Tilbury to board the Atlantic Star.
There was constant talk of the coming trip in the kitchen. None of them had been abroad, not even Mr. Dolland, although he had almost gone to Ireland once; but that, as Mrs. Harlow pointed out, was another kettle of fish. I was going to see real foreign parts and that could be hazardous.
You never knew where you were with foreigners, commented Mrs. Harlow and I’d be seeing a lot of them. She wouldn’t have wanted to go, not even if she was offered a hundred pounds to do so.
Meg said: “Well, nobody’s going to offer you a hundred pounds to go abroad, Mrs. H. So you’re safe.”
Mrs. Harlow looked sourly at Meg who, according to her, was always getting above herself.
However, the constant talk of abroad-its attractions and its drawbacks-was suddenly overshadowed by the murder.
We first heard of it from the newsboys shouting in the streets. “
“Orrible murder. Man found shot through the head in empty farmhouse.”
Emily was sent out to buy a paper and Mr. Dolland sat at the table, wearing his spectacles and reading to the assembled company.