Promise of Happiness. Betty Neels

her present job would last a month or a little longer and even though she managed to get another job at once, there would be rent to pay if she were lucky enough to find somewhere to live, and food for herself and the animals until she drew her pay. All the same she allowed herself the luxury of planning a modest outfit or two. They would arrive at Trondheim the next day and a little thrill of excitement ran through her, just for the moment she forgot the future and the unpleasant past; Norway, as yet invisible over the horizon, was before her and after that Holland. Perhaps later she would be homesick for England, but now she felt secure and content, with almost the width of the North Sea between her and her stepmother and Basil.

      She fell to planning the little home she would make for herself and Bertie and Pooch and was only disturbed in this pleasant occupation by the Baroness, who had been reading and now put down her book and suggested a game of dominoes before the leisurely process of getting ready for bed.

      The next day was fine and warm, the sea was calm and very blue and the shores of Norway, towering on either side of the Trondheimsfjord, looked magnificent. Becky, released from the patient’s company for an hour, hung over the rail, not missing a thing; the tiny villages in the narrow valleys, the farms perched impossibly on narrow ledges half way up the mountains with apparently no way of reaching them, the camping sites on the edge of the water and the cosy wooden houses. It was only when Trondheim came into sight, still some way off on a bend of the fjord, that she went reluctantly back to the Baroness. She had packed earlier, there was little left to do other than eat their lunch and collect the last few odds and ends, but there would be ample time for that; the Baroness had elected to wait until the passengers who were going on the shore excursions had left the ship; they would have to go ashore by tender, and Becky knew enough of her patient by now to guess that that lady avoided curious glances as much as possible.

      The passengers were taken ashore with despatch and wouldn’t return until five o’clock. Becky, sent on deck to take a breath of air while her patient enjoyed a last-minute chat with the ship’s doctor, the purser and the first officer, watched the last tender returning from the shore. Trondheim looked well worth a visit and she longed to get a closer look. It was nice to think that she would have two or three weeks in which to explore it thoroughly. There was a lot to see; the cathedral, the old warehouses, the royal palace, the Folk Museum…she pitied the passengers who had just gone ashore and who would have to view all these delights in the space of a few hours. One of the young officers who had come to the Baroness’s cabin joined her at the rail. ‘You get off here, don’t you?’ he asked in a friendly voice. He glanced at her trim uniform. ‘Will you get time to look around Trondheim?—it’s a lovely old place.’

      ‘Oh, I’m sure I shall—I don’t have to work hard, you know. The Baroness is kindness itself and I get free time each day just like anyone else.’ She smiled at him. ‘I loved being on board this ship.’

      He smiled back at her; he was a nice young man with a pretty girl at home waiting to marry him and he felt vague pity for this small plain creature, who didn’t look plain at all when she smiled. He said now: ‘Well, I hope you enjoy your stay in Norway. Do you go back to Holland with the Baroness?’

      ‘Yes, just for a little while, then I’ll get a job there.’

      He looked at her curiously. ‘Don’t you want to go back to England?’

      She was saved from answering him by the stewardess coming in search of her to tell her that the Baroness was ready to go ashore now. Getting that lady into the tender was a delicate operation involving careful lifting while Becky hovered over the plastered leg, in a panic that the tender would give a lurch and it would receive a thump which would undo all the good it had been doing. But nothing happened, the Baroness was seated at last, the leg carefully propped up before her and Becky beside her, their luggage was stowed on board, and they made the short trip to the shore. Here the same procedure had to be carried out, although it wasn’t quite as bad because there were no stairs to negotiate. Becky nipped on to the wooden pier and had the wheelchair ready by the time the Baroness was borne ashore. Escorted by a petty officer, they made their way off the pier to the land proper.

      There were a lot of people about and a couple of officials who made short work of examining their papers before waving them on to where a Saab Turbo was waiting. The lady sitting in the car got out when she saw them coming, not waiting for her companion, and ran to meet them. She was a small woman, a little older than the Baroness and very like her in looks. The two ladies embraced, both talking at once, and only broke off when the elderly gentleman who had been in the car reached them. The Baroness embraced him too and embarked on another conversation to stop in the middle of a sentence and say in English: ‘I am so excited, you must forgive me, I had forgotten my dear Becky. She has looked after me so very well and she is going to stay with me until I return home.’ She turned to Becky standing quietly a few paces away. ‘Becky, come and meet my sister and brother-in-law. Mijnheer and Mevrouw van Denne—he is Consul here and will know exactly the right places for you to see while you are here. And now if I could be put in the car…?’

      An oldish man joined them and was introduced as Jaap the chauffeur, between them Becky and he lifted the Baroness into the back seat where she was joined by the Consul and his wife while Becky, having seen the chair and the luggage safely stowed in the boot, got in beside Jaap.

      She tried to see everything as they went through the city, of course, but she would have needed eyes all round her head. But she glimpsed two department stores and a street of pleasant shops with other streets leading from it and she had the palace pointed out to her, an imposing building built entirely of wood, then they were in a wide street with the cathedral at its far end. But they didn’t get as far as that; half way down Jaap turned into a tree-lined avenue with large houses, before one of which he slowed to turn again into a short drive and stop before its solid front door. They had arrived. Becky drew a deep breath to calm herself. It would never do to get too excited; she was a nurse and must preserve a calm front, but her eyes shone with delight and her pale face held a nice colour for once. The Baroness, watching her with some amusement, decided that she wasn’t only a nice girl, she was—just now and again—quite a pretty one, too.