Learning As We Go – Part 4
Chapter 14
"We'll go out by horseback. It will be faster to cover the grounds," Bobby said. Astrid nodded sullenly. Bradley had left for work in the early hours of the morning. They had called the police station in London to inquire and been put through to the detective covering Mark's disappearance. He hadn't turned up yet. The police detective thought he was hiding to avoid punishment and would turn up when he got cold and hungry enough. He had thanked them for their concern. They had sat around and fretted for the last two hours. Going out to search on horseback was better than doing nothing.
"The police don't know Mark," Astrid said to Bobby thoughtfully as the grooms were saddling their horses. "He won't be found unless he wants to be."
"He is just a child. He's going to have to come out of hiding eventually," Bobby said to reassure her. "If we don't hear anything before the party tonight we'll go through every room in the house and the attics if that makes you feel any better."
"It would," Astrid said. "The only thing that will make me feel like celebrating is if I know he's safe and sound."
"Astrid it's up to his parents," Bobby said with a sigh. He would feel better if he knew Mark was safe as well.
"What kind of parents would let this happen?" Astrid questioned.
"You know what boys can be. Look at all the things they've all gotten into over the last two years."
"Nothing this drastic and we always keep them busy enough they don't get into much."
"You do, they don't. He'll show up just like the detective said," Bobby reassured her.
They rode around the property. Other than the tracks of the day staff coming and going in the fresh snow there was nothing to point to a little boy hiding anywhere on the grounds. They stopped by the greenhouses and asked the gardeners to keep an eye out for Mark. The two old men had a checkerboard set up by one of the stoves and were having a game in the relative warmth of the greenhouse.
"Seems an odd thing," one of them said. "Master Mark is a bright little lad and willing enough."
"Just keep an eye out," Astrid replied.
"Right you are, Lady Astrid," the other replied tipping his hat.
"I've got to get down to the station with the car to pick up Prim," Bobby said as they headed back into the house.
"I'm going to call Mark's friends and see if he's turned up at any of their homes," Astrid replied.
Bobby nodded and squeezed her hand before he went up to change.
-0-
Mark spotted Primrose at the station in London waiting to board the train. He knew he had the right train. She was going to Horsham he was sure of it. They had plans to go to Vienna and she was coming along. She must be going to join everyone. Mark waited until a luggage cart was moved down the platform before he walked past her. He stayed on the far side of the cart out of sight so she wouldn't see him. He hid behind the luggage until he saw Primrose get on the train and then got on himself. This morning he'd bought the ticket himself and got tickets straight through to Horsham so there wouldn't be any more mix-ups. He'd had some sleep but he had been cold again after he'd gotten up early and hid in a stall in the men's room until the station had started to fill up with people for the early train. He would have liked something warm to eat but he didn't want to chance leaving the station and getting lost or missing the next train. The woman at the ticket counter had made a joke out of how similar the names sounded then sold him the tickets. His stomach did an uncomfortable flip flop from hunger. The trip had taken quite a bit longer than he had thought and he'd only had an apple and a few crackers to eat that morning.
Mark reached for his spyglass then thought better of it. He didn't want to attract any attention to himself. He stuck his head out of the third class compartment where he was seated. There were two constables walking along the train checking the compartments. He scrunched down lower in his seat then risked another peek out the window after a few minutes. They were walking off escorting a man who had too much to drink. He was wobbling every which way despite the fact the constables each had a hold of an arm and were practically dragging him down the platform. The train started off with a lurch once the bags were loaded. The third class seats were hard compared to the first class he was used to but he didn't care. Soon he would be home and back in his own room.
-0-
"I'm very glad to see you," Bobby said to Primrose after he had kissed her hello.
"Bobby, what's wrong? You look worried," Primrose said with concern.
"It's Mark Wright," Bobby replied. "He went missing in London yesterday. We're all worried sick. The police think he's hiding and will show up when he gets good and hungry."
"He probably will," Primrose said reassuringly. "The police deal with this sort of thing regularly."
"It doesn't stop us from worrying," Bobby said. He took the claim check from Primrose and collected her bags. He stored them in the boot then held the door for her to get into the car.
Bobby went around and got into the driver's seat. He pulled Primrose close for another long kiss. He was quite enjoying the feel of her tongue exploring his when something rustled in the back seat.
"Ew, you lot are disgusting," Mark said. His head popped up over the seat from where he had been hiding under a blanket.
"Mark, how did you get here?" Bobby asked in surprise.
"I got in the car while you were getting Primrose's bags," Mark replied. "How can you mash your faces together like that? You're going to get germs."
"You shouldn't be spying on us and you haven't answered my question," Bobby replied. "How did you get here from London?"
"On the train," Mark said. "I wanted to come home so I came."
"I don't know whether to hug you or strangle you," Bobby said. He reached over the seat and hugged Mark as best he could. "Everyone has been worried sick."
"Everyone here has been worried," Mark said knowingly. "I fixed things at my house in London so they won't want me back."
"Mark what did you do?" Bobby asked sternly. "Actually never mind that. It's less than an hour by train from London, you've been missing for more than a day."
"I took the wrong train. Did you know there is a place called Horham?" Mark replied. "I'm hungry. Can we go home now?"
"We'll go home and then we'll let everyone know to call off the search," Bobby said.
"No one else is looking for me," Mark said with certainty. "They might not even know I'm gone."
"The police were around. Everyone knows you're gone," Bobby said. "Never mind all that. You need a meal and then you can tell us all where you've been."
"You're going to send me back," Mark said with disappointment.
"No one is going to send you back," Primrose said turning in her seat and patting his hand. "Lady Astrid will have to let the police know you're safe. You wouldn't want men out looking for you and maybe getting hurt in the snow, now would you?"
"I suppose not. I just wanted to come home," Mark said. His head was lolling on his hands where they were resting on the back of the seat.
Bobby stopped the car by the front door. He put the seat forward and tugged a now sleeping Mark out into his arms to carry to the front door.
"He's getting too big to carry," Bobby said straining with the weight.
"Bobby!" Astrid cried when she saw him. "Is Mark hurt?"
"He's sleeping, Lady Astrid," Primrose said. "We found him at the station or he found us. He's worn out."
"I've got to get him into bed before I drop him," Bobby said through gritted teeth. He climbed the stairs with Mr. Stokes going along to steady him so he didn't trip or fall.
"I'm so relieved," Astrid said taking a chair in the hall. "I don't know whether to cry or spank the little devil."
"Mark said he wanted to come home, Lady Astrid," Primrose said.
"He's home and he's safe," Astrid said in relief taking Primrose's hand. She looked up at Primrose and smiled. "My little boy is safe."
-0-
"How long does it take to get here from London?" James MacClare said checking the clock again.
"Obviously longer than it took you to arrive, Uncle James," Bradley replied.
Astrid had made a few calls before she notified the police of Mark's whereabouts. She had suggested and the detective in London had agreed it would be a better use of manpower if Mark's parents retrieved him in person although it was not procedure. Bobby's friends had started to arrive and he and Primrose were entertaining them in the drawing room. Mark had woken up long enough for a bowl of soup and a quick bath before he was back into bed in a pair of pajamas. He had worried and fretted the entire time he was up that his parents would take him to Geneva.
Bradley had managed to get someone to cover for him a few hours early. All they could do was reassure Mark they would have a proper talk with his mother and father this time around and he would be allowed to say his piece. They had asked Bradley's uncle to be there as legal representation for Mark. Astrid couldn't help going up to check on Mark every ten minutes to make sure he was asleep in his room and that he was safe. A car finally pulled up in front of the house. Bradley, Astrid and James waited for Mark's parents to be shown into the study.
Mr. Wright's eyes narrowed slightly at the sight that greeted him. A younger man with a serious countenance he surmised was Lady Astrid's husband was standing beside her. An older man with white hair and bearing a strong family resemblance was there as well. The older man had the piercing gaze of those who are accustomed to being in charge and a posture that clearly announced don't try to put anything over on me.
Mrs. Wright had a veil over her face and to what Astrid looked to be a good deal of makeup on. Mr. Wright had changed his hair from when Astrid had last seen him to a brush cut.
"Why have you inconvenienced us like this?" Mrs. Wright demanded once she was seated. "The police could have taken care of matters.
"Mr. and Mrs. Wright, let me first say Mark is safe. He is upstairs asleep," Astrid said. She ignored the woman's rude behavior. "I'd like to introduce my husband Dr. Branson and Lord Newtonmore. He is here to act as legal representation for your son."
"This is preposterous," Mr. Wright blustered.
"Not preposterous, I assure you," James replied calmly. "I'm merely here to ensure Mark's best interests are observed and that his wishes are heard."
"I thought we should have the conversation regarding Mark's behavior that we didn't have an opportunity for at our last meeting," Astrid continued.
"Yes, yes, we know he has a creative personality," Mr. Wright replied. "He'll be in a private school in Geneva as soon as we can deliver him there."
"To what end, Mr. Wright?" Bradley inquired. "Your son has learning difficulties he has only begun to address. His behavior stems from frustration, a sense of isolation and one of abandonment. Placing him in a new school with strict rules will most likely only result in an increase in naughty behavior and a worsening of his learning difficulties."
"Why should we take your word on anything? You're obviously prejudiced," Mr. Wright snapped.
"Perhaps you would like to hear Mark's views on the whole thing?" James MacClare inquired.
Bradley was grinding his teeth.
"How can you possibly represent our son? You're obviously a relation and therefore biased," Mr. Right said belligerently.
"I have no interest here either way than to see the boy is properly taken care of," James replied. He went to the door and asked the butler to bring Mark down. "Quite frankly you have placed a great imposition on my nephew, his wife and our entire family for that matter. A preferable situation would have been for you to assume responsibility for your son during vacations as most families do, but as this is not what has occurred and we must deal with what is."
Mark came in wearing pajamas and immediately scooted between Bradley and Astrid. He was staring at his parents warily.
"What do you have to say for yourself, making a mess in the house and getting into other people's things?" his father demanded immediately.
"I want to live here with Bradley and Astrid," Mark replied. "I hate the house in London."
"What did you do with the coins you pilfered from my desk?"
"I used them for train fare. I went the wrong way the first time. I bought another ticket and came here," Mark said. He was shrinking back behind Bradley's chair. He knew he had pushed things too far this time.
"They were valuable antiques and you spent them on train fare?" his father demanded raising his voice. "A thousand pounds worth of coins spent on a fare that should cost a few shillings."
"If you make me go back I'll be bad on purpose," Mark said getting agitated. He was raising his voice in return. "I'll think up something to do everyday until I never have to see you again. Why do you want me with you? You never talk to me or anything."
"I'm beginning to wonder the same thing," his mother replied.
"This is getting us no where," Astrid said. She turned and took his Mark's hands. "Mark, can you go up and get dressed? Before you do promise me you won't run off. You have to deal with your problems like a grown up. It's going to take a little while for the adults to sort things out."
"I want to stay with you and I want to go on our trip to Vienna," Mark whined. He was dancing from foot to foot in agitation. "I brought my passport and everything." He was almost ready to break out in tears.
"Don't worry. Lord Newtonmore is here to represent your interests," Astrid comforted him. "Whatever comes we'll all make the right decision for you. Now promise me you won't run away."
"I promise," Mark mumbled. Bradley patted his shoulder before he headed off to get dressed.
"We'll leave him here for school since that's what you obviously all want," Mr. Wright said somewhat angrily.
"Not so fast," Bradley replied. "You've inconvenienced us no end and caused my wife and I considerable emotional distress. What's to say you won't decide to retrieve Mark in a few weeks and we go through all of this again or worse? Mark needs a family that pays attention and spends time with him. We've put a great deal of time, effort and personal sacrifice into helping Mark. Our concern is for Mark and that he is placed in a stable environment that addresses his needs."
"We're busy and quite frankly neither of us have the time or patience for any more of his shenanigans," Mr. Wright said. "If you want him so badly you can keep him, but we're not paying."
"Mark's best interests would be served if he had regular visitation with you his natural parents," James said. "Legally you are financially responsible for your son and his welfare."
"A custody agreement where Mark's education and visitation with his family were at our discretion perhaps?" Bradley suggested. "Since you will be living in Geneva and we often visit family in Vienna, visitation with a nanny he knows and trusts for a few weeks each summer and at Christmas could easily be arranged."
"Take care of this Arthur. I've had enough of this bother and Mark's nonsense," Mrs. Wright said.
"Have the papers drawn up," Mr. Wright said. "I've had enough of the little bastard. Just remember I'm not paying."
"Hardly an endearing attitude for any child," James pointed out.
"I don't care if we ever see a penny of your money. My only concern is Mark," Astrid said trying to control to her anger.
"We will have our solicitors draw up the agreement in the morning," Bradley said. "I think we all need time to calm down. We can be flexible with visitation as long as Mark has a Nanny he is familiar with along to see to him which should resolve some issues. We will send someone around to collect Mark's things in the morning."
"Mark has destroyed property and caused personal discomfort to both my wife and I. He needs to be punished," Mr. Wright demanded.
"We will speak to him and meet out suitable consequences for what he has done I assure you, Mr. Wright," Bradley said sternly.
They got up to show Mark's parents out. Mark was dressed and sitting on a chair in the hall looking upset. Music and laughter could be heard coming from the drawing room. James MacClare gestured for Mark to stand beside him.
"It's time to say goodbye to your parents," James told Mark. "You'll be staying with Bradley and Astrid for the foreseeable future."
"I can?" Mark asked excitedly.
"Yes, you can," Bradley replied. "You will get to see your parents. We'll make arrangements for you to visit from time to time with Nanny along so you won't be lonely. Now what do you have to say to your parents?"
Mark stepped forward to say goodbye.
"Don't worry about the bluing and the stove black mother. It only lasts six days or so," Mark said. He held out his hand with something for his father. "Here are your knife, the rest of your coins and the money I took, Father. I'm sorry I spent your coin collection. I like your hair better this way."
His father took the items. His face had gone red with barely contained anger.
"You people have no idea what you've let yourself in for," he said.
"I think we do," Bradley replied with a half smile. "Go in and join Bobby and his friends Mark. We'll all be through in a moment."
"Your son will be happy and well cared for with us. You have my word," Astrid said.
"Goodbye Lady Astrid. Good luck with Mark," Mrs. Wright replied. She turned and headed for the car. Her husband nodded and headed after her.
"After that I think I need a drink," James MacClare said.
"You and I both, Uncle," Bradley replied. He turned to his uncle with a tired grin, "I think a celebration is in order."
Chapter 15
The next morning Bradley was up early and on the telephone with the solicitor before the man had a chance to leave his house. When the client was as large as the estate the principles had their representatives home number. His next call was to the butler at the house in London to have Mark's clothing collected from his room at his parent's home. By eight o'clock he was off the telephone and routing Mark out of bed.
"Are we going to Vienna today?" Mark asked excitedly.
"We are but you don't get off quite so Scott free for running away," Bradley said. "Despite your reasons, which were good ones, you worried and inconvenienced a great many people."
"I'm not sorry for what I did at the house, or to my parents or to Mrs. Blackworth one bit," Mark said looking down.
"What exactly did you do to them?" Bradley asked.
"I put laundry bluing in their perfume bottles and fixed it so my father got glue stuck in his hair," Mark replied still looking down. "I cut the laces of all of my father's shoes. I sawed the legs on Mrs. Blackworth's bed, set fire to the toaster and loaded the agitator with soap so there were suds all over and a bunch of other stuff.
"Thank you for telling me the truth," Bradley replied seriously trying to hide a smirk. "We're going to London this morning. There is someone else you need to speak to."
"What about packing?" Mark asked.
"We have staff for that. Come on, get up and make your bed. Then we'll go along and see if we have some clean clothes in the storage you can wear," Bradley said.
"I'll call if we get delayed," Bradley told Astrid as he was heading out the door with Mark.
"I'm not certain this is the best course of action," Astrid lowered her voice so Mark couldn't overhear.
"Being responsible for your actions is part of growing up. I won't have him apologize to his parents, but he does need to make amends. They deserve what they got," Bradley whispered back.
Bobby drove Mark and Bradley to the train.
"We should be back in three hours or so, plenty of time to get to the airport," Bradley told Bobby before they parted at the station.
"Where are we going?" Mark asked worriedly once they were on the train. "You're not taking me back are you? I don't want to go."
"The business with your parents is being settled by our solicitors as we speak," Bradley said. "You don't need to worry about that any more. There is someone else in all the fuss you caused who should have an apology for the inconvenience."
"Who?" Mark asked.
"You'll find out when we arrive," Bradley replied. He held Mark's hand through the station in London and on the underground so he wouldn't get lost. Mark got upset when he recognized the underground station near his parents' home.
"You said you weren't taking me back," he whined. He tried to pull free.
"I gave you my word, Mark. That's not where we're going," Bradley said taking him by the shoulders. "Men apologize when they do something wrong. It's time you learned that. Do I have to carry you?"
"No," Mark replied scuffing his feet and looking down. They walked down the street and up the stairs of the police station. Bradley asked for the detective they had been dealing with on Mark's case. Mark was looking around worriedly while they waited. It was only a few minutes and the detective came out of his office.
"Dr. Branson we can speak in my office," the detective said.
"No need," Bradley replied. "Mark has something to tell you and the Desk Sergeant and everyone else who was on duty this last few days."
The Desk Sergeant motioned to the other men working at their desks to come over. Mark was looking at his feet while still holding Bradley's hand.
"Mark what have you got to say?" Bradley asked him. "Take a big breath and say it."
Mark took a deep breath, looked at Bradley then at the room of policemen.
"I'm sorry for running off and causing you extra work when you should have been looking for bad guys," Mark said. "I won't run off anymore or set toasters on fire. I don't want anyone to get hurt because I did something naughty."
The men behind the desk looked at each other in surprise.
"You listen to what this young man has to say," the Detective said to Mark ominously. "No more nonsense or prank calls, young man. If I ever see you back I'll throw the book at you."
"I won't, I promise," Mark replied. His knees were shaking and his face had gone pale.
"Thank you for your time, Detective," Bradley said shaking the man's hand. "We won't take up any more of your day."
"Good luck, Dr. Branson," the Detective said in parting. He had a slight smile on his face in direct contrast to the serious expression he had shown Mark. He watched Bradley and Mark leave the building with Mark holding onto Bradley's hand. "Get back to work," he instructed the constables that were still standing at the desk with their mouth's open as he headed back to his office.
Bradley and Mark were making good time. They purchased two buns at a bakeshop to eat on the train back to Horsham before they stopped by the house in London to retrieve Mark's suitcases and a box Colleen was sending along for Sybil. They had fifteen minutes to wait for the train at the station after they purchased their tickets. Mark was starting to droop after the stress of the last few days and his apology at the police station. Bradley spotted a place on a bench and they sat down so Mark could have a short break and eat his bun.
"Apologizing is hard work," Mark said while he was eating his bun. He yawned.
"Harder work than making a mess in the first place," Bradley agreed. "It's part of growing up to own up to what you have done. You can have a bit of a rest on the train. It will be almost time to leave for the airport when we get back."
Mark nodded and tucked into his bun. Bradley noticed a woman glaring at them from across the concourse when the crowd parted. She was leaning on a cane and had a large blue smudge on the side of her face. The rest of her face was covered with dots and there was something odd about her hair where it stuck out from under her hat as though large chunks had been hacked off. "It can't be," Bradley thought to himself. He had never met the infamous Mrs. Blackworth. Passengers from an incoming train filled the walk heading to their holiday destinations or their jobs. The crowd was a sea of suitcases and brightly wrapped holiday parcels. When the crowd parted again the woman was gone. Mark had finished his bun. Bradley glanced at his watch and took Mark by the hand to head for their train. It was time to get on with their own holiday festivities.
-0-
"I'm sorry to have inconvenienced you, Uncle James," Bradley said to his uncle almost three hours later. His uncle had come to the airport to see them off along with their solicitor with the documents for their signature for Mark's custody.
"A worthy advisory and a good cause makes me feel alive," James MacClare replied with a twinkle in his eye. "That one likes his money and I enjoyed squeezing it out of him. The boy will be well provided for."
"Let's just hope they stick to their end of the visitation this time," Bradley said. "I think things will go better for Mark if he sees his parents with a nanny to provide supervision and some security along with it."
"My first charity client in a very long time," James replied. "I should do these things more often. I felt as thought I were back in the game."
"I think it's time you traveled and relaxed," Bradley replied. He glanced over to where Mark was sitting on a waiting room chair. This would be his first flight. He was excited despite his tiredness and couldn't sit still. "It looks like I need to escort a certain someone to the WC before they call the flight. Thank you again, Uncle."
"Have a good time in Vienna," James replied. He was waiting for the flight to leave to watch them take off. Air travel was still new enough it was a novelty. Watching the planes take off and land was an amazing sight.
Bobby had a hold of Primrose's hand and was trying to comfort her.
"Don't' be nervous Prim, you've been up with me before it isn't all that different," Bobby said folding her hand between his.
"What if your parents don't like me?" Primrose said worriedly. It had seemed like a great adventure when she was talking her father into sending her along on the trip. Now she was nervous and had a mountain of doubts.
"I like you, so they'll like you," Bobby replied. "They're both very open minded. Their friends come from all different backgrounds although I have to admit they're all musicians or related to musicians or something to do with Sybil's business."
"That's just it. I don't speak a second language or play music. They're all so sophisticated. How am I ever going to fit in?"
"The same way you do with my friends and family here. Just be yourself."
Primrose nodded and glanced around the airport. She was nervous to the point where the signs weren't making any sense. She was dreading going out in a strange city and not being able to find her way around, but she didn't want to tell Bobby that.
"Now Dear, have a good time," Primrose's mother said. She had been chatting with Astrid. "Do try and get me a few autographs while you're there."
"Mummy, I'm visiting not some kind of crazy fan," Primrose replied.
"I'll see what Hans can come up with," Bobby said.
"Take care of yourself and don't go out on your own," Mr. Carpenter told his daughter for the twentieth time that day. "See you mind your manners and make sure Bobby here minds his."
"I love you too, Daddy," Primrose said. A voice on the speaker was announcing their flight. Bradley returned with Mark. They headed for the gate.
"I still think we should have booked a hotel." Bradley commented once they had handed over their tickets and were through the gate. The stewardess had checked their passports as they passed through. "The flat was a tight fit last time. It's going to be worse."
"Sybil wants everyone close for Christmas," Astrid replied. "We're coming back in six days. We'll have a huge house all to ourselves until classes start in January."
"And I'll be back to work the day after we get back," Bradley reminded her.
The snow had been swept from the tarmac as they headed for the stairs leading to the aircraft. It was a newer model plane. They would have an inflight meal and drinks on the trip. The flight was short enough the meal and drinks would take up almost the entire flight. Mark was excited and trying to take everything in at once. Every seat on the aircraft was taken when they got on board. The stewardess came around handing out pillows and blankets. Mark didn't want to take any until Astrid insisted. He had his compass out of his pocket and was staring at it while the plane taxied out onto the runway.
"Are we going the right way?" Bradley asked him with a grin from across the aisle. Mark was in the seat beside Astrid next to the window.
"Not yet," he replied. He had his bag of toys along with a few snacks the cook had wrapped up for the trip for him. The trip was uneventful except for Astrid having to remind Mark to sit straight in his seat and not press his face against the window when the drink cart came around followed by the meals. With a full stomach Mark's earlier tiredness caught up with him. He feel asleep wrapped in his blanket while slumped against the window. Primrose had settled down slightly with the meal to occupy her time.
Hans was at the airport to meet them. Primrose didn't want to stare at the man who was on the cover of the record album her mother had been showing all her friends.
"How do you do, Mr. Meyer?" Primrose said when Bobby introduced them.
"I am well. Welcome to Vienna," Hans replied. He kissed her hand with his usual flourish. "I trust you had a good flight."
"Yes, we did thank you," Primrose managed to stammer.
Hans immediately turned to the rest of the party and greeted them.
"He does that to every woman he meets," Bobby whispered to Primrose who was standing still in shock. The man from the album cover was even more striking in person.
"I have arranged a surprise," Hans said. "Come." He led them outside the terminal where a horse drawn carriage was waiting. The horses were decked out with tassels on their bridles and bells on their harness for the season. "We have cabs these days and street cars but everyone should first see Vienna by carriage."
"Hurrah!" Mark exclaimed. He was into the carriage in a flash with his field glasses out. Primrose's eyes were huge as Bobby handed her up into the carriage and then helped Astrid while the bags were being loaded on the back.
"How is Sybil?" Astrid asked once they were all in the carriage.
"Fat," Hans replied with a grin. "Thomas has a new tooth. He is trying to eat his way through the bars on the crib."
"Are you planning on a new flat?" Bradley asked.
"No, if it is a boy this time they will share the room you will have. If it is a girl we will make two rooms from the one. I could not find a larger home so close to work," Hans replied. "Next time you come you will have to stay in the studio."
"I'm just hoping Sybil doesn't deliver while we're here," Bradley said. "Redmond doesn't mind delivering babies but it's never been my forte."
"Why?" Mark asked turning from watching the sights roll past the carriage with his field glasses.
"I study the brain not the other end," Bradley replied seriously which made everyone laugh.
The lights of the city were starting to twinkle in the early evening dusk as they pulled up to the door. Primrose felt her mouth go dry when she spotted the sign on the front of Sybil's studio with her name written in elegant script with London – Vienna neatly printed underneath. Sybil had been watching for them and waddled down the stairs with Thomas on her hip.
"Sybil you should not do the stairs," Hans scolded her. He took the baby from her.
"I'm impatient," Sybil replied. She hurried the women inside out of the cold while the men and Mark were seeing to the luggage.
"Sybil, this is Primrose Carpenter," Astrid introduced.
"Welcome, Primrose. Bobby has told me so much about you in his letters," Sybil said.
"Thank you for having me Mrs. Meyer," Primrose replied.
"Sybil, please," Sybil replied with a smile. "I go by my first name professionally. Absolutely everyone calls me Sybil. The client room is set up as a bedroom for Primrose," she said as the men came inside the house. "Bobby and Mark I'm afraid you'll have the sitting room at night and have to store your things in the guest room."
"I'm sure I'll be fine, Mrs… Sybil," Primrose said shyly.
"Come through and I'll give you the tour downstairs," Sybil said.
"I am to cook. Again," Hans said with a long-suffering sigh. Bradley laughed and followed him up the stairs with some of the cases. Hans had a case in one hand and was carrying the baby on his hip with the other.
"I don't have any appointments booked over the holidays," Sybil said as she led the way into the client room. "Primrose, you are in here." A folding cot had been set up as a bed and the room rearranged to make a bedroom with a bit of a sitting area. The curtains were drawn making the room look every bit a cozy bedroom. "There's a powder room through here," Sybil said showing her the door. "The rest is my work area and there is a laundry area at the very back."
"I don't want to do laundry," Mark said seriously. "The police might come."
"Not if you use the correct amount of soap flakes," Bobby said with a grin while ruffling his hair.
"It's a long story," Astrid told Sybil.
"We have a private stair," Sybil said. "The flats on the other side have a separate entrance so this is no different than a normal downstairs bedroom for the time being."
Bobby was close behind Sybil as she walked up the stairs. She was so roly-poly he didn't know how she made it up the stairs.
"This is where you'll sleep, Mark," Sybil continued as she entered the sitting room. Primrose stopped and stared in awe. Hadley Hall was grand and gracious but she had never been anywhere that had the kind of view from the windows of the flat.
"Your home is lovely," Primrose said.
"Thank you," Sybil replied.
Mark dashed over and got his spyglass out so he could look at the buildings in the distance. Hans and Bradley were chatting in the kitchen. Everyone else went to stand by the windows once Sybil had pointed out the other rooms off the sitting room.
"That's the top of the Musikverein," Sybil said. "If you ever get lost in Vienna, find your way there. Everyone knows where it is. Once you're there absolutely everyone knows Hans and you're only a few blocks away."
"That's a relief to know," Primrose replied. It made her feel a great deal better to know there was an easy way back if she did get lost. Mark was busy with his satchel of toys at the window and didn't reply.
"Dinner," Bradley called. They all left the window and went to have their first meal in Vienna at the dining room table.
Chapter 16
The first three days of the visit to Vienna were busy. Hans had to go into work the first day they were there and returned with albums for Primrose's mother with autographs covering the jackets from the various orchestra members. Sybil was due in four weeks and wasn't moving around much. The task of showing everyone around Vienna fell to Bobby, as he knew his way around the best. Neither Bradley nor Astrid remembered any of the landmarks from their previous visit. The city looked completely different under a blanket of snow. The hot topic of conversation so far on the visit had been whether or not Bobby should buy a plane.
"I'm still not convinced," Sybil said while they were discussing the matter. Thomas was down for a nap. She was seated in the sitting area with her feet on a stool.
"I'm not asking for a car. I don't need one since there is one available at both houses and Dylan and Kate will be moving back to Dublin sometime next year," Bobby replied. "It would be foolish with one sitting in London to buy another. I've had enough of getting to the airport only to find someone else has damaged a plane and I'm the one having to wait for parts. I'm not happy going up with blokes at the flight club near school either."
"What has happened to make you unhappy?" Hans asked.
"I went up with a bloke a few weeks ago," Bobby said. "He seemed an upstanding chap when I met him. He wanted a copilot to fly to Edinburgh with him. That was a mistake. He loaded the plane with cases of Scotch whiskey and two tarts for the trip back. He'd been helping himself to the Scotch as well. I wound up refusing to fly back with him. The plane was clearly overloaded on top of his drinking. I finally talked my way into a very uncomfortable trip back in the back of a cargo plane with a load of prize pigs going to a breeding program. That was a lovely weekend, let me tell you."
"You were wise not to fly with him," Hans said seriously.
"You did the right thing," Sybil agreed.
"You didn't say anything about it," Bradley commented.
"What good would saying anything have done? If I'd had my own plane two of my friends I've known since school and are at my college would have flown to Wales with me to see Reggie Watson. You remember him don't you, Sybil?"
"His family has orchards and grows hops don't they," Sybil replied. "The two of you were always out fishing."
"That's him. He's taking a horticultural course at a college not far from his home. We would have flown over and gone fishing if I had my own plane, instead I wound up stuck in Edinburgh with a drunk."
"I would like to go along when you go to look at a Piper," Hans said thoughtfully.
"I'd like to have your opinion," Bobby said. "I want something reliable I can use to get around and for skipping over to see the family in Ireland."
"I wonder if there is a sales person here for these planes," Hans commented. "I could possibly get to England next spring for a few days."
"If you're convinced then, I'm convinced," Sybil said. "What do you think Bradley?"
"This is Bobby's interest and his passion. I think he's flown enough to know whether or not he would get his use out of the machine and what he'd like to do with it."
"I've got a good mechanic lined up," Bobby said.
"The two of you go for a test flight," Sybil said. "If it's still what you want, then you can make arrangements for the purchase. I would like to get over sometime in the New Year to visit our parents."
"It's going to be hard with two little ones," Bradley said. "It would be easier if Mummy and Da came here but they won't budge with the six younger ones."
"Daddy has worked so long and hard raising first us now this younger group," Sybil commented. "He deserves some time off but he won't take it."
"They might make the trip if someone from the family went to stay with the brood," Bobby commented. The brood was the family name given to Tom and Rose's six adopted children. They were so close in age it was akin to a flock of chicks growing up together.
"I'll talk to Dylan when we get back," Bradley said. "If all six of us put the pressure on Da to finally take a bit of time for himself after all these years, he might just take a week and come for a visit."
"Maybe if we all chip in and buy the tickets they won't be able to say no," Sybil suggested.
"You might have something there," Bradley agreed.
-0-
"Bradley," Hans said quietly. He was shaking Bradley's shoulder to wake him up. It took Bradley a minute to realize where he was. A faint light was coming through the curtains otherwise the flat was dark.
"What is it?" Bradley asked coming awake finally.
"I think it is time for the baby," Hans replied.
Bradley got up quickly and passed through the sitting room as quietly as he could where Bobby and Mark were on their fold out cots.
"The baby isn't due for another four weeks is it? Bradley asked.
"We think," Hans replied. "Sybil was not sure of the days. Last time we left for the hospital as soon as there was a small pain."
The bedside light was on. Sybil was in bed trying to breath through a contraction.
"Did you ring for an ambulance?" Bradley asked.
"They will not come. They asked what it was for. When I said a baby, they answered they do not come for babies unless there is a problem. The doctor cannot come either he is at another baby."
"Lovely," Bradley replied. "I don't have my bag with me. We'll have to make do. How far apart are the contractions?" He sat on the side of the bed and palpated his sister's abdomen.
"About half a minute," Sybil said trying to catch her breath.
"I'll go wash my hands. Then I'll take a look," Bradley said. "Hans I need a clean towel and boil some water with a piece of string and the sharpest scissors you've got."
"I want to go to the hospital," Sybil gritted out during her next contraction.
"Let me take a look. I'll be able to tell if you have time to get to a hospital or not," Bradley replied.
"Wait," Sybil said once Bradley was back after washing his hands. He was about to pull the covers back and the sheet. "I don't want Thomas to see me like this."
"He is asleep," Hans said with a shrug. Sybil glared at him.
"Never disagree with a woman in labor," Bradley said.
Hans took ahold of the end of his son's crib and started pulling it carefully towards the door. Bradley waited until Hans had the crib in the dining area of the main room and had come back into the bedroom closing the door so it was only a crack. Sybil started into the next contraction.
"Hans get behind her and support her weight," Bradley instructed. "Press your hand into the small of Sybil's back during each contraction."
Bradley checked his sister to see where she was in labor as soon as the contraction subsided.
"You're too late to go to the hospital," Bradley confirmed. "You're almost ready to start pushing."
"How would you know? You're a neurologist," Sybil griped.
"I have done this before," Bradley said. "I'll have you know I got top marks in medical school for my stint in obstetrics. It wasn't my preferred line of study. Things would be a bit easier if I had a stethoscope and a few other instruments, but we'll make do."
"Easier for who?" Sybil grimaced as she went into her next contraction.
"Breathe," Bradley said. He instructed Sybil to exhale and inhale during the pain. As soon as it subsided he had her out of bed and pacing back and forth. "Best check if the water is boiling," he said to Hans.
"This isn't how babies are born," Sybil complained when the next contraction hit and Bradley kept her moving and breathing.
"It is when I'm in charge," he replied. They walked back and forth through the next five contractions.
"I can't anymore," Sybil said.
"Rest time," Bradley decreed. He got her back on the bed but wouldn't let her lie flat. He motioned Hans as soon as he was back to get behind Sybil again. "Almost there," Bradley said when he checked the progress. He spread out a towel for a receiving blanket then had Sybil lie on her side. He sent Hans for the pot with the string and scissors. He was back in a few seconds. Bradley had Hans hold her top leg with one arm while continuing to rub on her lower back with his other hand. Bradley quickly retrieved the string and scissors from the boiling water. Sybil was in a deep contraction that had her starting to rip at the sheets.
"Breath through it, Sybil," Bradley coached her. "The next one you're going to push." He placed a hand on the baby's head as it emerged guiding the baby slowly until the shoulders were delivered to prevent tearing. "Almost done Sybil," Bradley encouraged her. "Last push."
The baby emerged. Bradley quickly wiped the mouth and nose with the corner of a towel and used his finger to tap on the bottom of the foot to make him cry. The baby let out a short squawk then settled down. "Another boy," he said. He laid the baby and towel beside Sybil and placed another towel for the afterbirth. It was only two contractions later and everything was over. Sybil lay back exhausted. Bradley got busy tying the cord.
"Would you like to do the honors?" Bradley asked Hans. He held up the scissors.
"No," Hans replied wild-eyed and pale.
"Is the baby healthy?" Sybil asked. She pushed herself up on her elbow.
"He appears to be," Bradley replied with a smile. "His color is good and he's responding as he should. I haven't got a stethoscope to listen to his heart or breathing. You'll need to get him checked over by your family doctor, but I would say for the moment mother and child are perfectly healthy." He wrapped the baby and handed him to Sybil. She took the baby and held him with Hans holding the pair of them.
Bradley went to the washroom and came back with a cloth for Sybil to wipe her face with. He began folding up the sheets. "Fresh sheets will be more comfortable," he said. "Then we'll get to the business of cleaning up baby. I think that might be a job for a new father."
"Thank you, Bradley," Sybil said reaching a hand out to her brother. "That was the easiest delivery I've ever had. You could have been an obstetrician. You are very good at it despite what you say."
"I'm a much better neurologist," he replied. He put out his finger for the baby to grasp. "He's another Branson. You can see it already."
"Branson is a good name," Hans said.
"I thought we would name the baby Ernst if it was a boy," Sybil said. "After your father."
"No, I think I like Branson better," Hans replied with a smile. "Branson makes me think of good times and good friends."
"Branson," Sybil whispered to the baby. "You'll be the only one of the boys who bears the family resemblance with dark hair. My baby boy, Branson Hans Meyer." She kissed the baby on the forehead.
"Time to change the sheets and get baby cleaned up," Bradley said. "We can all do with some rest before the new arrival decides to announce he's ready for his first meal."
-0-
"New babies cry a lot," Mark said the next day. He, Primrose and Astrid were out sight seeing. Bobby was doing laundry and Bradley was busy registering the details of the birth with Sybil's doctor when he arrived for a house call. Hans the ever proud father was busy running back and forth between his two children checking to make sure they were taken care of and clucking to the point of driving Sybil mad.
"All babies start out tiny and crying to let you know they need something, then they grow and find things to get into," Astrid teased.
"I'm very glad my teachers are allowing me to do a report on Vienna with picture slides," Primrose said. She had her camera out and was taking pictures of the sights they were seeing. "It's much easier to do a report talking about picture slides than trying to write something."
"It is supposed to be harder, but I find it much easier," Astrid agreed.
"Everything is easier if you don't have to read it," Mark said. "May we go in that shop over there?" He pointed to a store that was open and looked to be selling military surplus."
"We won't be able to speak to the proprietor," Astrid said uncertainly. "It's not the type of shop that caters to tourists."
"We can still look," Mark replied. "Please, Lady Astrid."
"Yes, we can look," Astrid relented.
The shop held little interest for Astrid or Primrose but to Mark it was a treasure trove of interest.
"I've seen some things I would like to get with the spending money Bradley gave me," Mark said after ten minutes in the shop.
"It's your spending money. You may purchase what you like with it, but once it's gone you're done spending," Astrid cautioned him.
"I really want some of the things I've seen," Mark replied.
"Do you know how much money you have?" Astrid asked him.
"I counted before we left," Mark replied.
"Go ahead then," Astrid told him. Mark went to the counter and pointed to a jack knife, flashlight, wristwatch and an old pair of pilot's goggles that looked like they were from the First World War.
Astrid thought Mark was going to be disappointed when he didn't have enough money. This was part of learning and not something she needed to protect him from. The clerk behind the counter said something to her in German that she couldn't understand. Her eyes opened wide when Mark replied calmly in German and began a conversation with the man. Mark's speech wasn't fast but he seemed to be holding his own. After a few minutes he dug around in his satchel that went absolutely everywhere with him and pulled out an old pair of opera glasses and a military medal. He laid them on the counter along with his coins. The clerk picked up the medal and looked it over carefully. He sorted Mark's stack of coins and put well over half to the side along with the opera glasses. Mark shook his hand, said something to him in German and deposited his pile of new things along with the coins and opera glasses in his satchel. He waited while Primrose fastened his new wristwatch for him.
"Mark, where ever did you learn to speak German?" Astrid asked him.
"The records in the library," he said as though it were the most common thing in the world. "I listen to the people here when they speak too. Some things they say don't make any sense."
"You won't understand everything at first," Astrid said reassuringly.
"I understood the words but not what they meant," Mark replied.
"What did you hear?" Astrid asked him. They were about to go into a bakeshop to look for some things to take back to the flat for afternoon tea.
"When he was on the telephone, Mr. Meyer said , "if you eat fire, you shit sparks," Mark said seriously. "I don't know what he meant."
Astrid's mouth dropped open in shock. Primrose had her hand over her mouth trying to stifle a giggle.
"You shouldn't have been eavesdropping," Astrid scolded.
"It's what he said," Mark insisted. "He was right beside me. I didn't mean to eavesdrop."
"Mark you know the difference between polite words and rude ones. You shouldn't repeat something like that even if you hear an adult say it," Astrid scolded.
"I was only saying," Mark replied. "I heard someone say something about a sausage having two ends, but I didn't get that either."
"I think you had better not repeat any of that until you can ask Mr. Meyer what it all means," Astrid said sternly.
"All right. Do you think they have those biscuits Anna baked in this shop?" Mark asked already onto a new topic. "They were really good."
"We'll have to take a look and find out," Astrid replied.
Chapter 17
Bradley was holding Thomas on his lap reading to him from a counting book when he heard Astrid, Primrose and Mark on the stairs. Hans was downstairs in Sybil's workroom practicing. Sybil and the new baby were fast asleep. Bobby had gone out to the do the household shopping and pick up a few things Sybil needed around the flat with the new arrival.
Holding his nephew on his knee with his downy hair brushing his cheek he wondered if he and Astrid weren't being too cautious. Maybe it was time to start a family. He liked children and they responded well to him. Children were easy to love. Mark was proof of that. It only took a moment for his practical side to take over. Mark needed time to settle down. The last thing they needed at the moment was to throw a pregnancy into the mix. They were still young and there was plenty of time to have a family.
Hans came upstairs with everyone.
"How was the sight seeing?" Bradley asked. He stood up holding Thomas on his hip. Thomas squirmed to get down and took off crawling across the floor to his father.
"Enlightening," Astrid replied.
Bradley raised his eyebrows. Sybil came out from the bedroom to join everyone.
"Should you be up?" Hans questioned Sybil.
"I feel fine," Sybil replied.
"There is nothing wrong with being up and around after childbirth as long as you don't overdo things," Bradley said. "It's actually healthier for the mother to be up."
"You have a very different view on things," Sybil commented.
"I find in my line of work often holding on to traditional beliefs doesn't work too well," Bradley answered. "What did you find so enlightening on your excursion?" he asked his wife. His curiosity was peeked.
"Mark has learned to speak German," Astrid replied.
"You have?" Bradley asked him in surprise.
"Yes, I bought some new things. Do you want to see?"
"Of course," Bradley replied going to the table with Mark so Thomas wouldn't get into something he possibly shouldn't.
"Mark speaks German quite well," Hans commented. He came to the table to see Mark's new items.
"You knew?" Astrid asked in surprise.
"Yes. Didn't you know?" he replied.
"I got a new watch," Mark said proudly showing his wristwatch to Bradley.
"It is a German pilot's watch from the war," Hans commented. "You see, mine is the same. They last a long time."
"Were you a pilot in the war?" Mark asked. His eyes got large.
"Yes, I was," Hans replied calmly. "What else have you brought?"
Mark pulled his other items from his satchel for the men to admire.
"That is a Swiss officer's knife," Hans commented. "You must be careful with it. They are very sharp. Don't leave it where Thomas can find it."
"I won't," Mark replied seriously. "I'll put my satchel up high so he won't get into my things."
"Good boy," Hans praised him patting his shoulder.
"I bought a flashlight and some goggles for riding on the motorcycle," Mark said trying the goggles on. Bradley adjusted the strap for him so they would stay on.
"So you're speaking German?" Bradley asked Mark contemplatively once he had the goggles adjusted.
"I don't know why everyone is so surprised," Mark replied. He was still examining his new things. "You knew I was playing those records."
Bradley and Astrid exchanged a look.
"Could it be?" he asked her.
"We would have to test it," Astrid replied.
"It's worth a try," Bradley said.
They're cryptic conversation was lost on everyone else.
"What's got your two's curiosity up?" Sybil asked them.
They all moved to sit in the sitting room. Primrose had ahold of Thomas' hands and was helping him walk across the floor.
"As you know much of what Astrid does at the school is considered highly experimental," Bradley said once they were all seated. "From a medical perspective I look for commonalities. What are the things that unify a condition? Much of neurology is about brain chemistry and a great deal of things are a mystery." Bradley paused. "We have found a unifier with every single student that has passed through the school. When Dyslexics are in a state of emotional turmoil the condition worsens."
"That's true," Primrose said in surprised agreement. "If I'm upset the letters don't just jumble themselves more they seem to almost jump."
"Medically that is happening because the body releases chemicals, hormones actually when a person is upset, that trigger reactions within the brain. I have a paper coming out about the effect and what it means for Dyslexia. My findings are only preliminary at this point."
"Bradley has found research indicating vitamin A may nourish the synapsis in the brain. It may aid learning," Astrid commented. "We're going to increase fish in the diet at the school and see if it makes a difference."
"Mark being able to learn a second language by sound may be another break through," Bradley added. "If it can be repeated with other students, it may be a finding that can be passed on to the larger community of neurologists and educators studying the problem and lead to more answers."
"But I have always struggled with French," Primrose commented.
"As I did in grade school," Astrid said. "Consider your lessons are most likely based on written exercises not oral as mine were."
Primrose thought about it for a moment.
"They are," she confirmed.
"So you think learning a language completely by sound may be a breakthrough?" Sybil questioned in confusion.
"We can try adding a second language to the curriculum and see what happens," Astrid said. "We wouldn't use written exercises or reading at all with it. If it works and we have good success it would mean a new learning technique that would be a common unifier."
"Medically it could prove a new line of research, or add to someone's existing research. Why would someone with a learning difficulty have a heightened learning experience when the incoming signals are completely auditory? Our work with Dyslexia is experimental. It's why we want to have the symposium. If everyone working on these problems puts their minds together in one place, who knows what we'll come up with."
"Your ideas are very different," Sybil commented to her brother. "You certainly have different ideas about child birthing."
"I believe in some old methods mixed with new," Bradley replied. "Modern medicine is about regimenting everything. They're trying to make everything and everyone the same. I don't think it works. We know that with the success we've had with some of the boys."
Mark came over and sat beside Bradley once he'd put his satchel on a high shelf in the kitchen so Thomas couldn't reach. Bradley put his arm around him.
"We've had at least four boys come through the school and two girls traditional medicine would write off as lost causes and institutionalize them," Bradley said. "We're using an approach with lots of fresh air, a diet high in vegetables with very little sweets and allowing the children to take part in solving problems and finding answers. We're learning as we go from the children as much as they're learning from us."
"Do you think I discovered something by listening to recordings?" Mark asked Bradley. He rubbed the material on Bradley's trouser leg nervously with his fingertips.
"You may have or it may be you have a talent for languages," Bradley replied giving him a reassuring hug. "Whatever it means for others with the same learning problems you have, you've done very well learning a language so quickly. Every explorer needs to speak foreign languages for his travels."
"What does eating fire mean Mr. Meyer?" Mark asked.
"I am not sure what you mean," Hans replied.
"You said it the other day on the telephone. Wer Feuer frißt, scheißt Funken," Mark said.
"It is an expression," Hans said. His cheeks flushed slightly in embarrassment. He hadn't meant it to be understood by their guests. "It means the same as sleeping in your bed in English, in other words if you take a risk you might get burned. It is not an expression for children."
"You've made your bed, now lie in it," Sybil clarified. "Expressions don't translate well from one language to the other."
"Mark mentioned something he had overheard about a sausage having two ends," Astrid commented.
"Another expression in German but not so colorful," Hans said with a smirk. "Translated it would mean all things have an end, except the sausage that has two."
Everyone started to laugh. Bradley laughed until he was almost sick.
"I will have to remember that one," Bradley said while he dried the tears from his eyes.
"What did I miss?" Bobby asked coming in the door from the market.
"Hans was enlightening us on some German expressions," Astrid replied.
"I bought sausages for our dinner," Bobby said.
Everyone started to laugh all over again.
"I didn't know sausages were that humorous," Bobby said with a shrug then heading to the icebox with his purchases.
-0-
"What did you think of Primrose," Bobby asked Sybil and Hans. He had seen Bradley, Astrid, Mark and Primrose off at the airport. Bradley had only been able to get limited time off and Primrose's parents had only wanted her to stay in Austria as long as Bradley and Astrid were there. Bobby would return to England right after New Years.
"She seemed shy and quiet," Sybil said. "She's a bit young to be thinking of anything more permanent at this point."
"She is polite and very quiet if that is your type," Hans added. "You are concerned about something?" Hans had noticed Bobby lost in thought about something over the last day. He was waiting for the flat to be quieter to ask him about it.
"It's probably nothing," Bobby replied.
"Are you concerned about something?" Sybil asked. "You can tell us."
"It's just," Bobby moved about restlessly and took a seat at the kitchen table across from Sybil. She was feeding Thomas his lunch. The baby was asleep in a basinet in the bedroom. "We went over to Lukas and Johanna's the other night. Greta and her new husband Jacob were there and one other couple. Anna's in Switzerland with her skiing."
"A good group of friends," Hans said. "Greta's father mentioned Jacob has a job interview coming after the first of the year."
"That's just it," Bobby said. "We were playing rummoli. It's a new card game from the States. Johanna brought it back when she was over to New York with her university last spring. Everything was going along well. We were having a good time until Jacob mentioned he had a job interview coming up in January for a job in Israel. He's just graduated from university as a librarian. He's hoping the job works out because it's for a university library and comes with a flat."
"It may be a good post," Hans commented.
"What happened?" Sybil asked.
"After he was talking about it Prim got really quiet. I asked her what was wrong and she said her stomach was upset from eating all the unfamiliar foods."
"It may have been the case," Sybil said. "I had quite a time at first with all the dough balls everyone kept trying to feed me."
"Beer, pretzels, crisps, some kind of Jewish shortbread Greta made and an assortment of left over Christmas biscuits Lukas and Johanna's parents had on hand is not exactly foreign food," Bobby replied.
"You think it was because Greta and Jacob are Jews?" Hans asked.
"I'd like to think not, but it did cross my mind," Bobby replied. "Bradley had to square her father off once about his attitude towards Ireland. I'm sure it didn't change his mind but he's been silent on the subject ever since."
"Bradley is very like Daddy in his politics," Sybil commented. "He loved living in Ireland."
"I really like Prim," Bobby said. "We have loads in common but if she can't accept my friends because of religion I don't see a future in it."
"Are you sure it was because of that?" Sybil asked.
"I'm not sure at all," Bobby replied. "It's made me have doubts though. What if she has her father's attitude towards Ireland?"
"That is why everyone has told you to take your time," Hans said. "At first everything is sparkles and sunshine, later comes the parts you do not like so much."
"All the lectures over the years on taking my time when I meet a girl are starting to make a lot of sense," Bobby commented.
"Give things enough time and it will come clear in the end," Sybil said. "You're young. If Primrose is the right girl and you've misunderstood, you'll find out sooner or later. If your suspicions are confirmed you haven't made any promises."
"Dylan says Primrose is too young to really know what she wants yet," Bobby said thoughtfully.
"He's right," Sybil replied. She wiped Thomas' mouth before Hans lifted him down to the floor. Thomas promptly pulled himself up to stand holding onto the seat of a chair and smiled at Bobby. He lost his balance and landed on his bottom with a plop. He was no sooner down than tearing off into the other room on all fours to find his toys. "No one is saying you need to be a womanizer like Dylan was before he got married and no one is saying you need to pick one then think it to death like Bradley did. All we're saying is time reveals the good and the bad along with it. No relationship is ever perfect but you need to know if the things you don't like about the other person are things you can live with."
"I thought the two of you had the perfect relationship," Bobby replied.
"She is too bossy and she doesn't like to do the washing up," Hans said.
"Mr. Distraction here gets lost in music and forgets appointments," Sybil said. "He missed a dental appointment it took two months to get."
"It was for Bach," Hans said sheepishly.
"Then I had to listen to him complain about a sore tooth for another two weeks," Sybil said shaking her head.
"That's another thing," Bobby said. "I don't know if Prim has ever done her own laundry or washed up. She helped a bit while she was here but she doesn't seem to know much about it. You and I always did the chores together when we lived in the cottage and later in London. I still do my own laundry and throw in some extras when I'm home on weekend."
"Things you need to find out," Sybil confirmed. "Mummy had to learn a great deal of that type of thing after she and Daddy married, but she was willing. Is Primrose willing to do things around the house or is she expecting to have a maid if you do decide to tie the knot. These are all the questions you need to answer before you make anything permanent."
"Things always seem so much clearer when I'm here with you," Bobby said.
"I will be free the day after tomorrow. We can go to the airport and see if there is a Piper to look at," Hans said.
"You're going to leave me here with two babies?" Sybil asked.
"That is why we have the number for the girl to come in for help," Hans said. "This is one thing I do not mind your money for."
"You are getting spoiled," Sybil said.
"I have just washed the dishes and prepared the meal for later. I am not spoiled," Hans said sticking his nose in the air.
Just then the baby started to cry. Sybil got up to go and see to his feeding.
"Time to shuffle the rooms yet again," Bobby said. "I think I should stay downstairs and let Thomas get back to his own room."
"It would not be a bad thing," Hans replied tiredly. "Two babies one year apart cry a great deal at night."
"So this girl who's coming over for housework or whatever is she young and pretty?" Bobby asked.
"She is a girl like any other," Hans replied indifferently.
"You're no help," Bobby said.
"I have a good wife. Do I care if the maid is pretty?"
"It doesn't hurt to look," Bobby said.
"It does if you are married to a woman like Sybil," Hans replied. "She is a boss like her mother. I need to practice." He collected his violin and headed downstairs.
"I guess that leaves you and me to shuffle my cases," Bobby said to Thomas. Thomas waved a toy at him then stuffed it in his mouth.
"Somehow I think we just got stuck with washing all the sheets from the departing guests." Bobby went over to pick him up and realized he needed a diaper change.
"I'm not dealing with your stinky mess," Bobby said to Thomas. "I wonder where the number is for that maid."
