The Penguin Book of the British Short Story Page 19

  ‘Now I won’t have you saying things I don’t understand. You ought all to make the most of your good luck in having me all to yourselves and practise your English.’

  ‘We were talking of technical matters that would only bore you, Miss Reid,’ said the captain.

  ‘I’m never bored. That’s why, if you won’t think me a wee bit conceited to say so, I’m never boring. You see, I like to know things. Everything interests me and you never know when a bit of information won’t come in useful.’

  The doctor smiled dryly.

  ‘The captain was only saying that because he was embarrassed. In point of fact he was telling a story that was not fit for the ears of a maiden lady.’

  ‘I may be a maiden lady but I’m also a woman of the world, I don’t expect sailors to be saints. You need never be afraid of what you say before me, Captain, I shan’t be shocked. I should love to hear your story.’

  The doctor was a man of sixty with thin grey hair, a grey moustache, and small bright blue eyes. He was a silent bitter man, and however hard Miss Reid tried to bring him into the conversation it was almost impossible to get a word out of him. But she wasn’t a woman who would give in without a struggle, and one morning when they were at sea and she saw him sitting on deck with a book, she brought her chair next to his and sat down beside him.

  ‘Are you fond of reading, Doctor?’ she said brightly.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘So am I. And I suppose like all Germans you’re musical.’

  ‘I’m fond of music.’

  ‘So am I. The moment I saw you I thought you looked clever.’ He gave her a brief look and pursing his lips went on reading. Miss Reid was not disconcerted.

  ‘But of course one can always read. I always prefer a good talk to a good book. Don’t you?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘How very interesting. Now do tell me why?’

  ‘I can’t give you a reason.’

  ‘That’s very strange, isn’t it? But then I always think human nature is strange. I’m terribly interested in people, you know. I always like doctors, they know so much about human nature, but I could tell you some things that would surprise even you. You learn a great deal about people if you run a tea-shop like I do, that’s to say if you keep your eyes open.’

  The doctor got up.

  ‘I must ask you to excuse me, Miss Reid. I have to go and see a patient.’

  ‘Anyhow I’ve broken the ice now,’ she thought, as he walked away. ‘I think he was only shy.’

  But a day or two later the doctor was not feeling at all well. He had an internal malady that troubled him now and then, but he was used to it and disinclined to talk about it. When he had one of his attacks he only wanted to be left alone. His cabin was small and stuffy, so he settled himself on a long chair on deck and lay with his eyes closed. Miss Reid was walking up and down to get the half-hour’s exercise she took morning and evening. He thought that if he pretended to be asleep she would not disturb him. But when she had passed him half a dozen times she stopped in front of him and stood quite still. Though he kept his eyes closed he knew that she was looking at him.

  ‘Is there anything I can do, Doctor?’ she said.

  He started.

  ‘Why, what should there be?’

  He gave her a glance and saw that her eyes were deeply troubled. ‘You look dreadfully ill,’ she said.

  ‘I’m in great pain.’

  ‘I know. I can see that. Can’t something be done?’

  ‘No, it’ll pass off presently.’

  She hesitated for a moment then went away. Presently she returned.

  ‘You look so uncomfortable with no cushions or anything. I’ve brought you my own pillow that I always travel with. Do let me put it behind your head.’

  He felt at that moment too ill to remonstrate. She lifted his head gently and put the soft pillow behind it. It really did make him feel more comfortable. She passed her hand across his forehead and it was cool and soft.

  ‘Poor dear,’ she said. ‘I know what doctors are. They haven’t the first idea how to take care of themselves.’

  She left him, but in a minute or two returned with a chair and a bag. The doctor when he saw her gave a twitch of anguish.

  ‘Now I’m not going to let you talk, I’m just going to sit beside you and knit. I always think it’s a comfort when one isn’t feeling very well to have someone near.’

  She sat down and taking an unfinished muffler out of her bag began busily to ply her needles. She never said a word. And strangely enough the doctor found her company a solace. No one else on board had even noticed that he was ill, he had felt lonely, and the sympathy of that crashing bore was grateful to him. It soothed him to see her silently working and presently he fell asleep. When he awoke she was still working. She gave him a little smile, but did not speak. His pain had left him and he felt much better.

  He did not go into the saloon till late in the afternoon. He found the captain and Hans Krause, the mate, having a glass of beer together.

  ‘Sit down, Doctor,’ said the captain. ‘We’re holding a council of war. You know that the day after tomorrow is Sylvester Abend.’

  ‘Of course.’

  Sylvester Abend, New Year’s Eve, is an occasion that means a great deal to a German, and they had all been looking forward to it. They had brought a Christmas tree all the way from Germany with them.

  ‘At dinner today Miss Reid was more talkative than ever. Hans and I have decided that something must be done about it.’

  ‘She sat with me for two hours this morning in silence. I suppose she was making up for lost time.’

  ‘It’s bad enough to be away from one’s home and family just now anyway and all we can do is to make the best of a bad job. We want to enjoy our Sylvester Abend, and unless something is done about Miss Reid we haven’t a chance.’

  ‘We can’t have a good time if she’s with us,’ said the mate. ‘She’ll spoil it as sure as eggs is eggs.’

  ‘How do you propose to get rid of her, short of throwing her overboard?’ smiled the doctor. ‘She’s not a bad old soul; all she wants is a lover.’

  ‘At her age?’ cried Hans Krause.

  ‘Especially at her age. That inordinate loquacity, that passion for information, the innumerable questions she asks, her prosiness, the way she goes on and on – it is all a sign of her clamouring virginity. A lover would bring her peace. Those jangled nerves of hers would relax. At least for an hour she would have lived. The deep satisfaction which her being demands would travel through those exacerbated centres of speech, and we should have quiet.’

  It was always a little difficult to know how much the doctor meant what he said and when he was having a joke at your expense. The captain’s blue eyes, however, twinkled mischievously.

  ‘Well, Doctor, I have great confidence in your powers of diagnosis. The remedy you suggest is evidently worth trying, and since you are a bachelor it is clear that it is up to you to apply it.’

  ‘Pardon me, Captain, it is my professional duty to prescribe remedies for the patients under my charge in this ship, but not to administer them personally. Besides, I am sixty.’

  ‘I am a married man with grown-up children,’ said the captain. ‘I am old and fat and asthmatic, it is obvious that I cannot be expected to undertake a task of this kind. Nature cut me out for the role of a husband and father not for that of a lover.’

  ‘Youth in these matters is essential and good looks are advantageous,’ said the doctor gravely.

  The captain gave a great bang on the table with his fist.

  ‘You are thinking of Hans. You’re quite right. Hans must do it.’

  The mate sprang to his feet.

  ‘Me? Never.’

  ‘Hans, you are tall, handsome, strong as a lion, brave, and young. We have twenty-three days more at sea before we reach Hamburg, you wouldn’t desert your trusted old captain in an emergency or let down your good friend the doctor?’

  ‘N
o, Captain, it’s asking too much of me. I have been married less than a year and I love my wife. I can hardly wait to get back to Hamburg. She is yearning for me as I am yearning for her. I will not be unfaithful to her, especially with Miss Reid.’

  ‘Miss Reid’s not so bad,’ said the doctor.

  ‘Some people might call her even nice-looking,’ said the captain.

  And indeed when you took Miss Reid feature by feature she was not in fact a plain woman. True, she had a long, stupid face, but her brown eyes were large and she had very thick lashes; her brown hair was cut short and curled rather prettily over her neck; she hadn’t a bad skin, and she was neither too fat nor too thin. She was not old as people go nowadays, and if she had told you that she was forty you would have been quite willing to believe it. The only thing against her was that she was drab and dull.

  ‘Must I then for twenty-three mortal days endure the prolixity of that tedious woman? Must I for twenty-three mortal days answer her inane questions and listen to her fatuous remarks? Must I, an old man, have my Sylvester Abend, the jolly evening I was looking forward to, ruined by the unwelcome company of that intolerable virgin? And all because no one can be found to show a little gallantry, a little human kindness, a spark of charity to a lonely woman. I shall wreck the ship.’

  ‘There’s always the radio-operator,’ said Hans.

  The captain gave a loud shout.

  ‘Hans, let the ten thousand virgins of Cologne arise and call you blessed. Steward,’ he bellowed, ‘tell the radio-operator that I want him.’

  The radio-operator came into the saloon and smartly clicked his heels together. The three men looked at him in silence. He wondered uneasily whether he had done something for which he was to be hauled over the coals. He was above the middle height, with square shoulders and narrow hips, erect and slender, his tanned, smooth skin looked as though a razor had never touched it, he had large eyes of a startling blue and a mane of curling golden hair. He was a perfect specimen of young Teutonic manhood. He was so healthy, so vigorous, so much alive that even when he stood some way from you, you felt the glow of his vitality.

  ‘Aryan, all right,’ said the captain. ‘No doubt about that. How old are you, my boy?’

  ‘Twenty-one, sir.’

  ‘Married?’

  ‘No, sir.’

  ‘Engaged?’

  The radio-operator chuckled. There was an engaging boyishness in his laugh.

  ‘No, sir.’

  ‘You know that we have a female passenger on board!’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘Do you know her?’

  ‘I’ve said good morning to her when I’ve seen her on deck.’ The captain assumed his most official manner. His eyes, which generally twinkled with fun, were stern and he got a sort of bark in to his rich, fruity voice.

  ‘Although this is a cargo-boat and we carry valuable freight, we also take such passengers as we can get, and this is a branch of our business that the company is anxious to encourage. My instructions are to do everything possible to promote the happiness and comfort of the passengers. Miss Reid needs a lover. The doctor and I have come to the conclusion that you are well suited to satisfy Miss Reid’s requirements.’

  ‘Me, sir?’

  The radio-operator blushed scarlet and then began to giggle, but quickly composed himself when he saw the set faces of the three men who confronted him.

  ‘But she’s old enough to be my mother.’

  ‘That at your age is a matter of no consequence. She is a woman of the highest distinction and allied to all the great families of England. If she were German she would be at least a countess. That you should have been chosen for this responsible position is an honour that you should greatly appreciate. Furthermore, your English is halting and this will give you an excellent opportunity to improve it.’

  ‘That of course is something to be thought of,’ said the radio-operator. ‘I know that I want practice.’

  ‘It is not often in this life that it is possible to combine pleasure with intellectual improvement, and you must congratulate yourself on your good fortune.’

  ‘But if I may be allowed to put the question, sir, why does Miss Reid want a lover?’

  ‘It appears to be an old English custom for unmarried women of exalted rank to submit themselves to the embraces of a lover at this time of year. The company is anxious that Miss Reid should be treated exactly as she would be on an English ship, and we trust that if she is satisfied, with her aristocratic connexions she will be able to persuade many of her friends to take cruises in the line’s ships.’

  ‘Sir, I must ask to be excused.’

  ‘It is not a request that I am making, it is an order. You will present yourself to Miss Reid, in her cabin, at eleven o’clock tonight.’

  ‘What shall I do when I get there?’

  ‘Do?’ thundered the captain. ‘Do? Act naturally.’

  With a wave of the hand he dismissed him. The radio-operator clicked his heels, saluted, and went out.

  ‘Now let us have another glass of beer,’ said the captain.

  At supper that evening Miss Reid was at her best. She was verbose. She was playful. She was refined. There was not a truism that she failed to utter. There was not a commonplace that she forebore to express. She bombarded them with foolish questions. The captain’s face grew redder and redder as he sought to contain his fury; he felt that he could not go on being polite to her any longer and if the doctor’s remedy did not help, one day he would forget himself and give her, not a piece, but the whole of his mind.

  ‘I shall lose my job,’ he thought, ‘but I’m not sure that it wouldn’t be worth it.’

  Next day they were already sitting at table when she came in to dinner.

  ‘Sylvester Abend tomorrow,’ she said, brightly. That was the sort of thing she would say. She went on: ‘Well, what have you all been up to this morning?’

  Since they did exactly the same thing every day, and she knew very well what that was, the question was enraging. The captain’s heart sank. He briefly told the doctor what he thought of him.

  ‘Now, no German, please,’ said Miss Reid archly. ‘You know I don’t allow that, and why, Captain, did you give the poor doctor that sour look? It’s Christmas time, you know; peace and goodwill to all men. I’m so excited about tomorrow evening, and will there be candles on the Christmas tree?’

  ‘Naturally.’

  ‘How thrilling! I always think a Christmas tree without candles isn’t a Christmas tree. Oh, d’you know, I had such a funny experience last night. I can’t understand it at all.’

  A startled pause. They all looked intently at Miss Reid. For once they hung on her lips.

  ‘Yes,’ she went on in that monotonous, rather finicking way of hers, ‘I was just getting into bed last night when there was a knock at my door. “Who is it?” I said. “It’s the radio-operator,” was the answer. “What is it?” I said. “Can I speak to you?” he said.’

  They listened with rapt attention. ‘ “Well, I’ll just pop on a dressing-gown,” I said, “and open the door.” So I popped on a dressing-gown and opened the door. The radio-operator said: “Excuse me, miss, but do you want to send a radio?” Well, I did think it was funny his coming at that hour to ask me if I wanted to send a radio, I just laughed in his face, it appealed to my sense of humour if you understand what I mean, but I didn’t want to hurt his feelings so I said: “Thank you so much, but I don’t think I want to send a radio.” He stood there, looking so funny, as if he was quite embarrassed, so I said: “Thank you all the same for asking me,” and then I said “Good night, pleasant dreams”, and shut the door.’

  ‘The damned fool,’ cried the captain.

  ‘He’s young, Miss Reid,’ the doctor put in. ‘It was excess of zeal. I suppose he thought you would want to send a New Year’s greeting to your friends and he wished you to get the advantage of the special rate.’

  ‘Oh, I didn’t mind at all. I like these queer little
things that happen to one when one’s travelling. I just get a good laugh out of them.’

  As soon as dinner was over and Miss Reid had left them the captain sent for the radio-operator.

  ‘You idiot, what in heaven’s name made you ask Miss Reid last night whether she wanted to send a radio?’

  ‘Sir, you told me to act naturally. I am a radio-operator. I thought it natural to ask her if she wanted to send a radio. I didn’t know what else to say.’

  ‘God in heaven,’ shouted the captain, ‘when Siegfried saw Brunhilde lying on her rock and cried: Das ist kein Mann’ (the captain sang the words, and being pleased with the sound of his voice, repeated the phrase two or three times before he continued), ‘did Siegfried when she awoke ask her if she wished to send a radio, to announce to her papa, I suppose, that she was sitting up after her long sleep and taking notice?’

  ‘I beg most respectfully to draw your attention to the fact that Brunhilde was Siegfried’s aunt. Miss Reid is a total stranger to me.’

  ‘He did not reflect that she was his aunt. He knew only that she was a beautiful and defenceless woman of obviously good family and he acted as any gentleman would have done. You are young, handsome, Aryan to the tips of your fingers, the honour of Germany is in your hands.’

  ‘Very good, sir. I will do my best.’

  That night there was another knock on Miss Reid’s door.

  ‘Who is it?’

  ‘The radio-operator. I have a radio for you, Miss Reid.’

  ‘For me?’ She was surprised, but it at once occurred to her that one of her fellow-passengers who had got off at Haiti had sent her New Year’s greetings. ‘How very kind people are,’ she thought. ‘I’m in bed. Leave it outside the door.’