Chapter Thirty-six

DEAREST Dad, I hope you got the cable all right to say that Penny was back safely. He enjoyed his trip and arrived in the pink and has been full of beans ever since! He would send his love I know only he's off at the Stadium at the moment servicing Tommy Benson's bike. Jimmie says he can have one of his own next year, and you can imagine he's starry-eyed! But I'm rambling on as usual and haven't properly said from all of us thanks awfully for giving Penny such a stunning time. We're madly grateful to you for making it possible, and he obviously enjoyed every moment. We've been positively grilling him you can imagine since he got back, poor boy! You know how inarticulate he is, but he's obviously had the time of his life. He's awfully improved too in lots of ways, so much more confident and grown-up. 'And tidier! You've all been an education and an eye-opener for him. Jimmie even accuses him of having an English accent!

Dear Dad, I've thought of you all so much this summer and wished I could see you. (I quite understand you can't visit us — it is so expensive.) I've thought and thought about Randall and I do feel sure, don't you, that he'll just turn up like a bad penny one of these days and expect everyone to embrace him and kill the fatted calf and so forth and what's more they will?! Jimmie says people like Randall can get away with murder and it's but too true. It's a case of to him that hath shall be given and so on and Randall's always known he can do whatever he likes and still be loved. I'm sure he'll come back. (Jimmie isn't so sure actually.) But poor poor Ann. I expect you have been with her a lot. I do wish I could be. I've written her reams of letters of course.

I mustn't go on about these sad things. There are so many nice things too. Jimmie has had another promotion and has ordered the annexe to be built! (Just as well, as our dear shack is about busting at the seams.) Jeanie has won a prize for geography. (I think she's quite the intellectual of this family!) And the baby's due in less than a month! Everyone is so impatient, they practically crowd round me shouting! We've decided, after endless argument, to call it Andrew if it's a boy and Margaret if it's a girl. I do hope you approve! Penny wants it to be a boy and Bobby wants it to be a girl and the rest of us will be delighted with whatever's sent along, so long as it's the proper shape and in its right mind! I'll cable you, of course, as usual.

I'm so terribly grateful to you all for Penny's holiday. His time in England had such a sad beginning — but young creatures recover quickly and so they should. I wish I could have seen the times you all had! Miranda must be a sweet little thing now — it's a pity she's a bit too young to have been a playmate for Penny. But he seems to have found a real playmate in Humphrey Finch! What a charming old fellow he must be to give so much of his valuable time to a young boy. They seem to have had a great spree in London, though Penny was a bit vague about what they actually did together. (I believe he's still mixing up the Tower and Buckingham Palace!) Wouldn't it be too heavenly if Humphrey came and saw us all out here as he said he might?

Forgive this dreadfully short letter. I'm as round as a barrel and terribly tired these last few days though madly cheerful! Try not to worry about Randall. Jimmie says maybe after all he'll come back where the money is! And I say (less cynically!) that he'll surely come back where he knows he belongs.

With lots of love from us both, and from Penny and Jeanie and Timmie and Bobby — and Maggy — and ever your loving Sally — Hugh folded up the letter. He had not had time, in the flurry of embarkation, to read it properly before. He was now on the ship and some hours out from Southampton. He was going to India with Mildred and Felix.

They were sitting together in the bar, after having had an excellent dinner. The bar was at the stem of the ship, and behind them the white wake boiled and curled away into the darkness. Hugh felt at ease. He smiled across at Mildred.

Mildred was radiant. The slight illness which she had complained of earlier in the summer seemed to have left her completely. She was wearing a smart blue dress of some silky-lineny stuff which brought out the extreme blueness of her eyes, as blue as scyllas, Hugh poetically thought. Her petticoat was not in evidence and a discreet touch of rouge upon her cheeks gave her face a youthful definition. She was wearing just enough lipstick and her soft peppery hair which had, it was clear, lately received the attentions of an expert hairdresser, was cut short in a neat yet raffish style about her beaming countenance. Her hair seemed less grey, in fact hardly grey at all, Hugh noticed; he must have mis-remembered its colour. He had never seen her looking so nice, and he was tempted to pay her some compliment, only refrained because she might think him forward or absurd.

Felix was sitting at the next table writing a letter and thoughtfully sipping his brandy with a soft dreamy look upon his handsome and normally so discreet features. He had been exceedingly gay at dinner. He had obviously been much more cheerful since he had decided to do the Gurkha job instead of staying in Whitehall. Hugh felt, and said so, that he was quite right. After all, if one is a soldier one had better be a soldier and not a wretched bureaucrat. Hugh could not see how a stay-at-home office job could tempt a man like Felix at all. Mildred had also lately confided in Hugh concerning Felix's love life, an entity which Hugh had never, he discovered, believed to exist at all. Mildred's brother was, it appeared, deeply in love with a Freneh girl who was now in Delhi, and thither he would hasten, as soon as they arrived in India and the very dark blue Mercedes had been unloaded from the hold, to plead his case. He had, it appeared, good hopes; and Hugh took pleasure, though with a slight sigh, in the younger man's evident happiness.

'Is he writing to her, do you think? he whispered to Mildred. 'Yes. I saw it was in French!

Hugh beamed.

'Absurd Hugh! she said. She often said this now and Hugh had stopped hearing it as something else. His hearing seemed to be altogether better lately, and the din of argument in his head had subsided to a docile murmur. He had provided himself with plenty of Dramamine for the trip but hoped that now he would not need it.

'Would you like to see Sarah's letter? he asked Mildred. 'There's nothing in it, actually.

'Does she say anything about Humpo?

'Well, yes. She says Penn had a great spree with him, though he's a little vague about what they actually did together.

Mildred gave a little scream of laughter, startling the pen-biting Felix. 'You aren't worrying, are you? I know my Humphrey.

'Of course I'm not worrying. Still, we hardly looked after the boy and I rather blush at Sarah's letter.