one.”
“That’s a busy town,” Lucy said doubtfully. “It might not be possible to stop right in front of the hotel. What about Wilton or Winterslow? We stopped at both of those when we went to Devon last year. Either would be quite easy for Mrs. Mayberry, and neither is far from Salisbury. And for the next stop—” she frowned. “There doesn’t seem to be anything at about the right distance. We bypass Basingstoke— Hook? I don’t remember anything about it though I think it’s only a small place. Couldn’t you find out if there is an hotel there and phone to find out just how. convenient it would be?”
“Good girl!” Owen sounded so genuinely grateful that Lucy was not annoyed. “Then, when we get to the airport, she can move about for a bit—I’ll arrange for a chair for getting her along corridors and so on. But there’s nothing to be done once we get on the plane, and that means something over two hours. Too long. Oh, hell! Y’know, I don’t think she ought to attempt it.”
“But she does so want to,” Lucy sighed. “Look, Mr. Vaughan, if we go via Paris it will take longer in total, but isn’t there a long stop there? Or better still, couldn’t you say that you have business in Paris and need to stop the night? That would mean Mrs. Mayberry could have a proper night’s rest without feeling that she was being a nuisance—and she does so hate to feel that.”
“She does, indeed,” Owen concurred. “Yes, that’s the ticket! Of course, there will have to be a genuine appointment, otherwise Aunt Louise will rumble it as easy as winking! Well, I can arrange that. Then on to Nice the next day. I’m arranging to hire a car there —I don't like using a car with a right-hand drive on the Continent—and that can pick us up at Nice airport. Yes, that’s about as good as we can manage, I think. What an admirable accomplice you make, Lucy!”
For a second his hand dropped lightly on her shoulder, but even as he turned to go he asked a question.
“How does it come about that you’re so au courant with air routes and schedules?”
“I looked them up,” Lucy replied briefly, not thinking it necessary to add that actually, before deciding to go to Spain, she and Dick had considered honeymooning in the South of France and she had obtained the information then.
However, Owen appeared quite satisfied, for with no more than a nod he left the room, whistling cheerfully.
CHAPTER VI
DESPITE all their care and forethought, Mrs. Mayberry was tired to the point of exhaustion when they touched down at Nice airport. As a result, when they had passed through customs, Owen insisted on a wait in the lounge before making the final stage of the journey by road.
After having provided a brandy for Mrs. Mayberry and sirop for Lucy and Bertha, Owen left them to go in search of the car. When he returned, Mrs. Mayberry insisted that she felt considerably better and quite equal to continuing.
Lucy did not feel entirely convinced that this was so, but realised that the sooner Mrs. Mayberry reached her destination and was able to relax, the better it would be for her. Bertha, too, was anxious to reach Villa des Fleurs so that she could make her mistress “a cup of decent English tea—better than all these foreign drinks”.
But though Lucy made no protest, her anxiety prevented her from appreciating her surroundings. As a result she had only a blurred impression of the exotic glitter of Nice, the winding road which led to Monaco, bounded on one side by the incredibly blue sea and on the other by steeply rising mountains. It was, in fact, a considerable relief when she realised that they had turned off the main road and were surely coming shortly to their journey’s end.
At last they came to open double gates through which the car turned, and Lucy had the first glimpse of the villa which was to be her home for the next four weeks.
Perhaps, by some standards, it was not so very big or magnificent, but to
“That’s a busy town,” Lucy said doubtfully. “It might not be possible to stop right in front of the hotel. What about Wilton or Winterslow? We stopped at both of those when we went to Devon last year. Either would be quite easy for Mrs. Mayberry, and neither is far from Salisbury. And for the next stop—” she frowned. “There doesn’t seem to be anything at about the right distance. We bypass Basingstoke— Hook? I don’t remember anything about it though I think it’s only a small place. Couldn’t you find out if there is an hotel there and phone to find out just how. convenient it would be?”
“Good girl!” Owen sounded so genuinely grateful that Lucy was not annoyed. “Then, when we get to the airport, she can move about for a bit—I’ll arrange for a chair for getting her along corridors and so on. But there’s nothing to be done once we get on the plane, and that means something over two hours. Too long. Oh, hell! Y’know, I don’t think she ought to attempt it.”
“But she does so want to,” Lucy sighed. “Look, Mr. Vaughan, if we go via Paris it will take longer in total, but isn’t there a long stop there? Or better still, couldn’t you say that you have business in Paris and need to stop the night? That would mean Mrs. Mayberry could have a proper night’s rest without feeling that she was being a nuisance—and she does so hate to feel that.”
“She does, indeed,” Owen concurred. “Yes, that’s the ticket! Of course, there will have to be a genuine appointment, otherwise Aunt Louise will rumble it as easy as winking! Well, I can arrange that. Then on to Nice the next day. I’m arranging to hire a car there —I don't like using a car with a right-hand drive on the Continent—and that can pick us up at Nice airport. Yes, that’s about as good as we can manage, I think. What an admirable accomplice you make, Lucy!”
For a second his hand dropped lightly on her shoulder, but even as he turned to go he asked a question.
“How does it come about that you’re so au courant with air routes and schedules?”
“I looked them up,” Lucy replied briefly, not thinking it necessary to add that actually, before deciding to go to Spain, she and Dick had considered honeymooning in the South of France and she had obtained the information then.
However, Owen appeared quite satisfied, for with no more than a nod he left the room, whistling cheerfully.
CHAPTER VI
DESPITE all their care and forethought, Mrs. Mayberry was tired to the point of exhaustion when they touched down at Nice airport. As a result, when they had passed through customs, Owen insisted on a wait in the lounge before making the final stage of the journey by road.
After having provided a brandy for Mrs. Mayberry and sirop for Lucy and Bertha, Owen left them to go in search of the car. When he returned, Mrs. Mayberry insisted that she felt considerably better and quite equal to continuing.
Lucy did not feel entirely convinced that this was so, but realised that the sooner Mrs. Mayberry reached her destination and was able to relax, the better it would be for her. Bertha, too, was anxious to reach Villa des Fleurs so that she could make her mistress “a cup of decent English tea—better than all these foreign drinks”.
But though Lucy made no protest, her anxiety prevented her from appreciating her surroundings. As a result she had only a blurred impression of the exotic glitter of Nice, the winding road which led to Monaco, bounded on one side by the incredibly blue sea and on the other by steeply rising mountains. It was, in fact, a considerable relief when she realised that they had turned off the main road and were surely coming shortly to their journey’s end.
At last they came to open double gates through which the car turned, and Lucy had the first glimpse of the villa which was to be her home for the next four weeks.
Perhaps, by some standards, it was not so very big or magnificent, but to
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