The Death of the Heart - Elizabeth Bowen [61]
As the train drew in Lymly, the junction for Seale, Mrs. Heccomb waved two or three times—first at the engine, as though signalling it to stop, then in order thatPortia should not overlook her. This was unlikely, for hers was the only figure on the platform stretching its dead length. This unfrequented junction, far from the village, at the mouth of a cutting, exists alone among woods. Ground ivy mats its lozenge-shaped flowerbeds, and a damp woody silence haunts it—except when boat trains, momentary apparitions, go rocking roaring through. Mrs. Heccomb wore a fur coat that had been Anna's, that cut her a little across the back. She wore the collar turned up, because a draught always blows down a main line. Methodically, she began to search down the train, beginning with the first carriage after the engine. On seeing Portia alight from the far end she broke into a smooth trot, without any break in deportment. When she came up to Portia she looked at her small round hat, took a guess at her mental age and kissed her. "We won't try and talk," she said, "till we're quite settled." A porter took the luggage across the platform to another, waiting, train, very short, with only three coaches. Not for some minutes after they were settled did this train puff off down the single line through the woods.
Mrs. Heccomb, sitting opposite Portia, balanced on her knee a coloured wicker shopping basket, empty. She had a plump abstracted rather wondering face, and fluffy grey hair piled up under her hat. Portia noted scars in her fur coat where buttons had been cut off and moved out. "So isn't this nice," she said. "You've come, just as Anna said. Now tell me, how is my dear Anna?"
"She told me to be sure and give you her love."
"Fancy thinking of that, when she's just going abroad! She takes things so calmly. Are they all packed up?"
"Matchett's still got to finish."
"And then she'll spring clean the house," said Mrs.Heccomb, viewing this vision of order. "What a treasure Matchett is. How smoothly things can run." Seeing Portia looking out at the woods, she said:
"And perhaps you'll quite enjoy a little time in the country?"
"I am sure I shall."
"Where we live, I'm afraid, is not really the country, it is the sea. However—"
"I like the sea, too."
"The sea in England, or rather the sea round England, will be quite new to you, won't it?" said Mrs. Heccomb.
Portia saw Mrs. Heccomb did not expect an answer, and guessed that Anna had told her the whole story—where they had lived, and why they never came home. Anna would not have gone on seeing Mrs. Heccomb if this had meant her having to be discreet. Anna was truly fond of Mrs. Heccomb, but there would have been nothing to say, when they were not at matinées, had Anna not made stories out of her passing worries and got sympathy for them. About three times a year, Anna sent Mrs. Heccomb the price of a day ticket to London, then very warmly devoted the day to her. This was always a great success—it was never known, however, whether Mrs. Heccomb's worries came up too. Did she talk to Anna about her step-children? "I'm afraid they are pretty awful," Anna had said.
"Do you skate?" Mrs. Heccomb said suddenly.
"I'm afraid I don't know how to."
Mrs. Heccomb, relieved, said: "Perhaps that is just as well. You need not go to the rink. Are you fond of reading?"
"Sometimes."
"You are quite right," said Mrs. Heccomb, "there is plenty of time to read when you are older, like I am. At one time, Anna read too much. Fortunately she loved gaiety, too: she always had so many invitations. In fact, she still enjoys herself like a young girl. How old are you, Portia, if I may ask?"
"Sixteen."
"That makes such a difference," said Mrs. Heccomb. "I mean, it's not as though you were eighteen."
"I do quite enjoy myself, even now."
"Oh yes, I'm sure you do," said Mrs. Heccomb. "I do hope you'll enjoy the sea while you are with us. And there are some interesting places, ruins, for instance, round. Yes,