I was ready to report the progress I had made. First I went through one or two formal matters connected with the winding up of the estate, and then I showed her the schedule of the furniture that I had put in store at Ayr. She was not much interested in that. "I should think it had all better be sold, hadn't it?" she remarked. "Could we put it in an auction?"
"Perhaps it would be as well to wait a little before doing that," I suggested. "You may want to set up a house or a flat of your own."
She wrinkled up her nose. "I can't see myself wanting to furnish it with any of Uncle Douglas's stuff, if I did," she said.
However, she agreed not to do anything about that till her own plans were more definite, and we turned to other matters. "I've got your brother's death certificate" I said, and I was going on to tell her what I had done with it when she stopped me.
"What did Donald die of, Mr Strachan?" she asked.
I hesitated for a moment. I did not want to tell so young a woman the unpleasant story I had heard from Dr Ferris. "The cause of death was cholera." I said at last.
She nodded, as if she had been expecting that. "Poor old boy," she said softly. "Not a very nice way to die."
I felt that I must say something to alleviate her distress. "I had a long talk with the doctor who attended him," I told her. "He died quite peacefully, in his sleep."
She stared at me. "Well then, it wasn't cholera," she said. "That's not the way you die of cholera."
I was a little at a loss in my endeavour to spare her unnecessary pain. "He had cholera first, but he recovered. The actual cause of death was probably heart failure, induced by the cholera."
She considered this for a minute. "Did he have anything else?" she asked.
Well, then of course there was nothing for it but to tell her everything I knew. I was amazed at the matter-of-fact way in which she took the unpleasant details and at her knowledge of the treatment of such things as tropical ulcers, until I recollected that this girl had been a prisoner of the Japanese in Malaya, too. "Damn bad luck the ulcer didn't go a bit quicker," she said coolly. "If there'd been an amputation they'd have had to evacuate him from the railway, and then he wouldn't have got the cerebral malaria or the cholera."
"He must have had a wonderfully strong constitution to have survived so much," I said.
"He hadn't," she said positively. "Donald was always getting coughs and colds and things. What he had got was a wonderfully strong sense of humour. I always thought he'd come through, just because of that. Everything that happened to him was a joke."
When I was a young man, girls didn't know about cholera or great ulcers, and I didn't quite know how to deal with her. I turned the conversation back to legal matters, where I was on firmer ground, and showed her how her case for probate was progressing. And presently I took her downstairs and we got a taxi and went over to the club to dine.
I had a reason for entertaining her, that first evening. It was obvious that I was going to have a good deal to do with this young woman in the next few years, and I wanted to find out about her. I knew practically nothing of her education or her background at that time; her knowledge of tropical diseases, for example, had already confused me. I wanted to give her a good dinner with a little wine and get her talking; it was going to make my job as trustee a great deal easier if I knew what her interests were, and how her mind worked. And so I took her to the Ladies Annexe at my club, a decent place where we could dine in our own time without music and talk quietly for a little time after dinner. I find that I get tired if there is a lot of noise and bustling about, as in a restaurant.
I showed her where she could go to wash and tidy up, and while she was doing that I ordered her a sherry. I got up from the table in the drawing-room when she came to me, and gave her a cigarette, and lit it for her, "What did you do over
"Perhaps it would be as well to wait a little before doing that," I suggested. "You may want to set up a house or a flat of your own."
She wrinkled up her nose. "I can't see myself wanting to furnish it with any of Uncle Douglas's stuff, if I did," she said.
However, she agreed not to do anything about that till her own plans were more definite, and we turned to other matters. "I've got your brother's death certificate" I said, and I was going on to tell her what I had done with it when she stopped me.
"What did Donald die of, Mr Strachan?" she asked.
I hesitated for a moment. I did not want to tell so young a woman the unpleasant story I had heard from Dr Ferris. "The cause of death was cholera." I said at last.
She nodded, as if she had been expecting that. "Poor old boy," she said softly. "Not a very nice way to die."
I felt that I must say something to alleviate her distress. "I had a long talk with the doctor who attended him," I told her. "He died quite peacefully, in his sleep."
She stared at me. "Well then, it wasn't cholera," she said. "That's not the way you die of cholera."
I was a little at a loss in my endeavour to spare her unnecessary pain. "He had cholera first, but he recovered. The actual cause of death was probably heart failure, induced by the cholera."
She considered this for a minute. "Did he have anything else?" she asked.
Well, then of course there was nothing for it but to tell her everything I knew. I was amazed at the matter-of-fact way in which she took the unpleasant details and at her knowledge of the treatment of such things as tropical ulcers, until I recollected that this girl had been a prisoner of the Japanese in Malaya, too. "Damn bad luck the ulcer didn't go a bit quicker," she said coolly. "If there'd been an amputation they'd have had to evacuate him from the railway, and then he wouldn't have got the cerebral malaria or the cholera."
"He must have had a wonderfully strong constitution to have survived so much," I said.
"He hadn't," she said positively. "Donald was always getting coughs and colds and things. What he had got was a wonderfully strong sense of humour. I always thought he'd come through, just because of that. Everything that happened to him was a joke."
When I was a young man, girls didn't know about cholera or great ulcers, and I didn't quite know how to deal with her. I turned the conversation back to legal matters, where I was on firmer ground, and showed her how her case for probate was progressing. And presently I took her downstairs and we got a taxi and went over to the club to dine.
I had a reason for entertaining her, that first evening. It was obvious that I was going to have a good deal to do with this young woman in the next few years, and I wanted to find out about her. I knew practically nothing of her education or her background at that time; her knowledge of tropical diseases, for example, had already confused me. I wanted to give her a good dinner with a little wine and get her talking; it was going to make my job as trustee a great deal easier if I knew what her interests were, and how her mind worked. And so I took her to the Ladies Annexe at my club, a decent place where we could dine in our own time without music and talk quietly for a little time after dinner. I find that I get tired if there is a lot of noise and bustling about, as in a restaurant.
I showed her where she could go to wash and tidy up, and while she was doing that I ordered her a sherry. I got up from the table in the drawing-room when she came to me, and gave her a cigarette, and lit it for her, "What did you do over
Similar Books
September Song
Colin Murray
Bannon Brothers
Janet Dailey
Revealing the Dragons (Stonefire Dragons #2.5)
Jessie Donovan
Whiskey Neat (The Uncertain Saints MC Book 1)
Lani Lynn Vale
"T" is for Trespass
Sue Grafton
The Gift
Portia Da Costa
The Made Marriage
Henrietta Reid
Where Do I Go?
Neta Jackson
Hide and Seek
Charlene Newberg
The Four Horsemen 4 - Death
T.A. Chase