Part 35 (1/2)
The sea-wall ended not far from Donovan's camp of mud and cinders, and having got there, Peter thought he would go on and get a cup of tea. He crossed the railway-lines, steered through a great American rest camp, crossed the ca.n.a.l, and entered the camp. It was a cheerless place in winter, and the day was drawing in early with a damp fog. A great French airs.h.i.+p was cruising around overhead and dropping down towards her resting-place in the great hangar near by. She looked cold and ghostly up aloft, the more so when her engines were shut off, and Peter thought how chilly her crew must be. He had a hankering after Donovan's cheery humour, especially as he had not seen him for some time. He crossed the camp and made for the mess-room.
It was lit and the curtains were drawn, and, at the door, he stopped dead at the sound of laughter. Then he walked quickly in. ”Caught out, by Jove!” said Donovan's voice. ”You're for it, Julie.”
A merry party sat round the stove, taking tea. Julie and Miss Raynard were both there, with Pennell and another man from Donovan's camp. Julie wore furs and had plainly just come in, for her cheeks were glowing with exercise. Pennell was sitting next Miss Raynard, but Donovan, on a wooden camp-seat, just beyond where Julie sat in a big cus.h.i.+oned chair, looked out at him from almost under Julie's arm, as he bent forward. The other man was standing by the table, teapot in hand.
One thinks quickly at such a time, and Peter's mind raced. Something of the old envy and almost fear of Donovan that he had had first that day in the hospital came back to him. He had not seen the two together for so long that it struck him like a blow to hear Donovan call her by her Christian name. It flashed across his mind also that she knew that it was his day at the hospital, and that she had deliberately gone out; but it dawned on him equally quickly that he must hide all that.
”I should jolly well think so,” he said, laughing. ”How do you do, Miss Raynard? Donovan, can you give me some tea? I've come along the sea-wall, and picked up a regular appet.i.te. Are you in the habit of taking tea here, Julie? I thought nurses were not allowed in camps.”
She looked at him quickly, but he missed the meaning of her glance.
”Rather,” she said; ”I come here for tea about once a week, don't I, Jack? No, nurses are not allowed in camps, but I always do what's not allowed as far as possible. And this is so snug and out of the way. Mr.
Pennell, you can give me a cigarette now.”
The other man offered Peter tea, which he took. ”And how did the festivities go off at Christmas?” he asked.
”Oh, topping,” said Julie. ”Let me see, you were at the play, so I needn't talk about that; but you thought it good, didn't you?”
”Rippin'” said Peter.
”Well,” said Julie, ”then there was the dance on Boxing Night. We had glorious fun. Jack, here, behaved perfectly abominably. He sat out about half the dances, and I should think he kissed every pretty girl in the room. Then we went down to the nurses' quarters of the officers' hospital and made cocoa of all things, and had a few more dances on our own. They made me dance a skirt dance on the table, and as I had enough laces on this time, I did. After that--but I don't think I'll tell you what we did after that. Why didn't you come?”
Peter had been at a big Boxing Night entertainment for the troops in the Y.M.C.A. Central Hall, but he did not say so. ”Oh,” he said, ”I had to go to another stunt, but I must say I wish I'd been at yours. May I have another cup of tea?”
The third man gave it to him again, and then, apologizing, left the room.
Donovan exchanged glances with Julie, and she nodded.
”I say, Graham,” said Donovan, ”I'll tell you what we've really met here for to-day. We were going to fix it up and then ask you; but as you've dropped in, we'll take it as a dispensation of Providence and let you into the know. What do you say to a really sporting dinner at the New Year?”
”Who's to be asked?” queried Peter, looking round. ”Fives into a dinner won't go.”
”I should think not,” cried Julie gaily. ”Jack, here, is taking me, aren't you?” Donovan said ”I am” with great emphasis, and made as if he would kiss her, and she pushed him off, laughing, holding her m.u.f.f to his face. Then she went on: ”You're to take Tommy. It is Tommy's own particular desire, and you ought to feel flattered. She says your auras blend, whatever that may be; and as to Mr. Pennell, he's got a girl elsewhere whom he will ask. Three and three make six; what do you think of that?”
”Julie,” said Tommy Raynard composedly, ”you're the most fearful liar I've ever met. But I trust Captain Graham knows you well enough by now.”
”I do,” said Peter, but a trifle grimly, though he tried not to show it--”I do. I must say I'm jolly glad Donovan will be responsible for you.
It's going to be 'some' evening, I can see, and what you'll do if you get excited I don't know. Flirt with the proprietor and have his wife down on us, as like as not. In which event it's Donovan who'll have to make the explanations. But come on, what are the details?”
”Tell him, Jack,” said Julie. ”He's a perfect beast, and I shan't speak to him again.”
Peter laughed. ”Pas possible,” he said. ”But come on, Donovan; do as you're told.”
”Well, old bird,” said Donovan, ”first we meet here. Got that? It's safer than any other camp, and we don't want to meet in town. We'll have tea and a chat and then clear off. We'll order dinner in a private room at the Grand, and it'll be a dinner fit for the occasion. They've got some priceless sherry there, and some old white port. Cognac fine champagne for the liqueur, and what date do you think?--1835 as I'm alive. I saw some the other day, and spoke about it. That gave me the idea of the dinner really, and I put it to the old horse that that brandy was worthy of a dinner to introduce it. He tumbled at once. Veuve Cliquot as the main wine. What about it?”
Peter balanced himself on the back of his chair and blew out cigarette-smoke.
”What time are you ordering the ambulances?” he demanded.
”The beds, you mean,” cried Julie, entirely forgetting her last words.