Читать книгу Mr. Emmanuel - Louis Golding - Страница 17

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The original idea had been that Mr. Emmanuel should stay at Shipscar till a day or two after the boys were safely off the premises. Perhaps even a day or two longer. Then he would have to go back to Doomington, to see to the various important affairs that awaited his attention before he turned his mind to the preparations for the Palestine journey. What these important affairs were was not quite plain, and of course Rose did not question him. She realized he was the sort of person who would be quite lost if he did not himself believe, and have others believe, that he was the centre of important affairs.

Now that the boys were leaving a fortnight earlier than had been intended, it was arranged that, as a concession to these important affairs, he should curtail his visit by a week or so. That would give the opportunity for the payment of ample and uninterrupted tribute to old times. It would also mean that the sailor would have his family all to himself during the following week, before he went to sea again.

The boys left with expressions of deep gratitude. There was even a little excitement in their demeanour.

“Good-bye, Bruno,” said Mr. Emmanuel, as he walked along the station platform at Salisbury, with Bruno’s hand tightly holding his. “Perhaps you will write me once, if I cannot get down to Roman’s Bight?” He wanted to try to suggest once more to the boy that if ever anything should arise that he might do, in the matter of his mother and her whereabouts, he would do it. Yet what could he do? he asked himself. What had official agencies been able to do? And as for the boy himself, somehow, for some mysterious reason, the pain was dulled in him. Wasn’t it better to let things rest so?

“No, please, Mr. Emmanuel,” insisted Bruno urgently. “When you are going back through London, you shall come to camp also. Please, is that frech?” he asked plaintively. “Is that impertinent?”

“No,” said Mr. Emmanuel, and looked away sharply.

“In here, please, porter!” Rose pointed out. “In you get, boys!”

The porter unleashed the three suitcases from his straps and lifted them onto the rack. One was considerably heavier than the others. This was Bruno’s. It contained a good many of the objects that had made Mr. Emmanuel’s suitcase so heavy on his original journey to Salisbury.

“Bit ’eavy, this one!” the porter exclaimed jovially. “Bit of a dead body, eh?” It seemed to be the same porter who had, a fortnight ago, made the same jovial remark regarding Mr. Emmanuel’s suitcase. Once again, as the suitcase was upended, the mechanism in a hidden cylinder turned over, and a plaintive mooing filled the air.

“You don’t catch me again on that lark!” he said, and laughed uproariously. Everybody else laughed, including the solemn Klaus. As the train went out, the three boys were still smiling.

“Thank you, thank you, Mrs. Cooper!” they called.

“I am seeing you soon, please, Mr. Emmanuel!” cried Bruno.

It was a happy leave-taking.