The Man Who Forgot

Auckland Star, Volume LXIX, Issue 219, 16 September 1938, Page 19

The Man Who Forgot

"i;»-li: That was A llcar thi ~ h '".' U r\:" ' 7" h « a«nt.v laugh, as the (»..•:. i:.ith-rwl speed and ~l lffe<l im e . "I""- 1 , "" , n t f M ,h " »»««' station. -lie '"-'•. - 1, . t" nieiHl your wa Vs '"" , ll •" mtive along the ro'rri-fl;-r jr:.iii.-in-.' inf. PHt-h compartment in t ■"■ i , "! , " "I -|">l l in<r a e ,,t -•''•.'■■•". v "»"■ -t.KHI and stared 1 m>, at « In ,, s t umi.-ual »|« P <l alon-r '" T,,| " r t«»»-HrclH her, was a youlS He fore -he could recover her surprise ai _.M.-h ,tr,.i.jr,.. behaviour on a rwW ir.iin. Hi.' young man was be-ide \ e ? k.'.'.'l.'hi.'.'f" hiS ~TOW Wlth a ll,r?P hl1 " ,1 ' •I »a\." he n-kt.,l urgently, without him preamble. »\Vi!| ;•„,, i,h,, „ fH!o,v "in i>l ;i most di.-j,,.,atf Ik,!i.-'" •I I'm afraid I .!,.„•: urnh-r-tanl!" ' l ' l ' ,l '-''<-I , <• 1 in iiniiiz-.'ineiii si u . ~„ , '•j »■■ »"'him tii,. t.v|,,. ~f jj ir | whl , ~.;. i-i.iii.-i'ji'ii overtures from strange yoiina

-nil. I,lit you will when T-.e «-xP 1 (l " l|p assured lier cheerfully, with a. mo.t huyUli ? ,i,,. -Lete see if wo ran lim! .1 couple of seats, shall we? Or "mi!,! you rather talk here? •Id prefer you stepped out ..i t> «hv, and let me pas*.,' , returned Celia inly. "Oh, I say. don't pet liko tliat. Tin in the most ghastly predicament, and the moment I saw you I knew 1 was delivered. Y«u sec it will bo obvious, even to dense idiots lik.. Aunt n<, and Cousin Gertrude, that you're ju««t thp <ort of till I'd full for—l niPHii tlipy'll never s you're not my fiancee." "What?" Olin was staggered. Such an exceptionally good-looking yocn-z num. too. But surely, even it:' the-*.-drt.v«. potential murderer* didn't have nirp tunned fnees and blue eyes, and hair with a glint of the sun in it.

"Perhaps I'd better start at thp bogiinin;:." he was saying. "Kγ—inv lining's Roderick F.rnest Derwenton. ''Red' to my fiiend* —initial* you kno-.v—not the liair -if you pet me-—" ( elia. didn't know that shed relented. But «he must have done. ' That'-t thp spirit!" R<d beamed. "Vou'vp no idea what n sensitive nature mine is. Responds to Kiudneee like n gold fish!" "Really. Mr. Derwenton!" CelU tried hard to retain her dignity, but it ■whs difficult with a man iike thi*. "Can't it l>e Red?" he bagged. "After all, a gvl doesn't usua'iy addrese her tin nee. quite eo form*ty. Though mind you—" "Kindly allow me to pas*," C«lia interrupted him, knowing well, now. that she didn't want to pass. "Oh, forgive me," he said. so. humbly that her heart melted ridiculously. "Fact is—l'm dead seared you'll pull the communication cord when I tell you what I -want you to do 7 Will you promise, at leiuit, to hear me out?" Celia promised, with a *how of reluctance of which *he should have been ashamed. She knew very well that che *»» dying with curiosity, and that she wae going to eee this adventure tliough. "Well, it's like this," lie confessed. "By the moat appe'.'.irjj "iuck, when I boarded the train at Berry, I stepped right into a compartment t-> find, r,iy Aunt Flo and her odious Gertrude beaming at me like—er—tortoises Think of it—a train composed of 14 or 15 carriage* with 12 compartment* apiece, and I choose that very one!" He grinned ruefully. "Berry? It that very far from Welton?" "Station before, that's all! Didn't you know?" "I've only been living , in the district a week or two." «he apologised, mildly. "Well," continued Red, "what wa-e a chap to do? I couldn't even think of {ravelling; the hour'* journey to town with them. Dash it all—l mean—could I?" "So what do you think wan the flr«t Idiotic thing that popped into my head ?"

Short Story

By Eleanor Lovat

Ceha couldn't think. It ran- something like this—'Dreadfully sorry. Aunt Flo. I\- e to-^r-thS e oMUr t: '° ur - Whatdo^ Celia thought it was rich. She wa< to underhand, too. " did Hi !,ev t V" U , an - V , idea WHt A " nt FlO d next.' he denumvjd. "(Jrabl^.a »> oven-oat and papers, she snal.^ed he ron, me by brute force, and stu.k ';"" r at - a »* -e.t. Then patting 1 , ," "I* ~a(' k she «M, "Run lilT and •J'k for her. dear boy. We'll keev these "l.v'.u ? et hack.' I sav . ar - p Vlll| K-.mnnjf to ;ret the drift of the thin--" '<ed added, anxiously. The S i,i no dded. "So now you want me to go along to your AuntVs compartment, and pretend from here to 1γ'",",,, , """ 1 r, " engaged to be "lan-ied "Thank heaven! , ' Red mopped his '""« again. -I knew you'd do it!" But vim must have been gone nge« imw'" " ,(,,e tlm " '" ,lf Way t(> t """ ••Thafs all right. I'll say vou were in the l.ftoenth carriage. Come ~n. angel." Without further argument- it seci.-.l "seless. anyway Celia followed him a .out .ill y«,ds along the train until he stopped outside the fateful comi.art">f'it. With his hand on the knob she l>'illed back. "The name." she whispered, "is Celia I'arkington."

Aunt Flo pouneed on her like a hawk after its prey. "And :-o." shp said, gushinarlv "this is my new little iiie.-e to-be < "Let me h>l vp a good look at hpr!" t'elin sqiiivmed. but deciding that if n thin;: whs worth doins it was worth doinjr WP |i s)lp ~|U l)ff „ ljtt | p to Annt Ho's nutstretehed hand and murmiiied how happy she was to meet hpr. "And this is Cousin (iertrude." went on Aunt Klo. "You two must be great friends." 'Sertrude. apparently, thought it most unlikely, for she nodded casually to < elia and then hid her face once'more behind the "Daily Sketeh." .Somehow the remaining minutes of thp journey to London were dealt with. "And now. ,, vem nr ked t.'elia. as they walked down the thronged platform, "if you will excuse mr> T must go and do some strap-hanging." "Oh. but you can't dash off like that, darling!" Red grasped her elbow almost fearfully. ''Yon haven't arranged where you'll meet me for lunch." Celia was cornered. "Realiy." slip thought, "this is over-doing it!" Aunt Flo. however, stood waiting with a simpering smile on her lips. (Gertrude looked insufferably bored. "WA. where shall it be?" she a«ked lightly, realising that once they parted, she need never see him again. "Tl, e Carlton at 1.30?" he suggested. "That will be lovely!" She made her adieus, and left them. "But of course. I shan't go," she told herself as she hurried towards the tube station. But, of course, she did. That Wa* in Majr. - Long before the end of July Celia knew that Red was going to propose to her. She also knew that she was going to say "Yes." Meanwhile, she often wondered when —and where. Perhaps one of the evenings they went dancing on the lawn of the Riverside cafe, in that quaint little arbour made of lilac trees. Or when they--were drinking hot coffee in the lounge after a midnight »wim in the roadhoune pool. Or he might etop his Httle two-seater on the way home one night, and under the stars . . .

Red had dropped into the habit of leaving the bank, where he worked, in time to wait for Celia and eecort her home. The lart day of July was hot and stifling. The full force of the late afternoon sun blazed down on to the pavements. They walked along to the Underground in silence. When th*y reached the station Celia made for the elevator as usual, but Red caught her arm and pulled her back. "Shall w© go down the stair* for a change?" he asked, and his voice was unusually serious.

"On an afternoon like this ? Whatever for?" Celia protested. "I want to talk to you. It's a nice secluded spot this, isn't it V '•Secluded, but not particularly nice,' , was her reply. They had halted at the foot of the stairs. In front of them stretched the dirty, dismal. Unused corridor that led on to the station

An electric train, with a deafenin? roar, shot into the s-tation through the wall. - Suddenly, Red looked down at her earnestly, "J)., you. or—w] la t I wanted to wa^—what is your oiiiui<.n of lies?" he said. ■Lies?"' repeated Celia. "Why—" "\oi—lies!" lie rejKMted. TliPie n inonientV silence. Then: •I ahoniinate them!" declared Celiil with <lecisioii. " l t! ?h" you would. , ' R,,,i looked miserable. H,. shuffled from ~n c foot to another before he held out his hand. lin afraid itV ? ot to l.e -00.11.v0 Parkinfftrm." he said, in a low voice 1 d rather our love not to be built lip on a pack of lies. I prefer to end it all now." The ludicrous. e.\ predion on hi* face was to., mneh f,,,- oiia. she burst out liiii»hm<r. '■Kc<l. veil idiot—•' she be-an. but there was n<, answering ] rt ii"h from liiiii. "Vou W ,,,rt be ho lK»ppy ab,, nt it •HI when you v,. hoard W \ M \ j liaV( , ~, y>y. I hiivcii't had th<> €-iiiira«- ( . ,„ „,., it out lK.fore. ItV-ifs about Ann! Mi', he rushcl on. "Vo,, remember tlmt rtiorninjr. on the 8.2.",?"' •P<;rfe<.tly," (clia assured him. ••Y .!•,'" ' t,lat Wfl * n 't Aunt Flo." '•v! l? vt ~ there is,,,t an . v Aunt Flo."' "V ,"' , * nt Comin Gertrude, either!" trud" •' f,Ut tl,<rC ' Snt a,,y Cousi " r; °'"- (VliH was looking straight at him. rlwn don t you think you'd better explain." "J— Pin roiniii-r to that. u }; 00 . nr- I'd spotted jou mm oral ~„ on the N. 2.-, and-well. IM fallen for you 1 was desi.er.Hc to speak to y .»n—l.i\-..k the ic« —npt ~i lctorc the crowd—if v,,,i understand!" Celia iiodd-d.

"Xo one on the train seemed to know you—and I miPMioiied plenty Von seemed so siaml-oflish. and I was in dpspair. I often travelled up with Klo Oiiititninjr* and Crrtrude 1-lolison. They-ro members of the Dramatic Chili in Bcrrv. I've- known tln-m Loth for years. mid "hen I put it to them, and asked if they'd give men helping hand—are you beginning to .u'et the han-r of the thin'"*" asked Red aiiNi'mit'ly. "Yes." replied Celia. slowly, "you've made, yourself perfectly clear." 'Tin jrlad for that, anyway. Thank goodness I've »ot it off my chest!" Red heaved a big sip-Ji. "And now, I suppose you hate me!" "I've been wandering how lonjr it would be before you'd tell me,"" she answered musingly. "Wondering how lonjr. . . .? You don't mean—yon don't mean that vou knew?' , "From the xtry first day," Celia admitted. "How ?—Where? —When? , ' Red gasped in amazement.

Celia smiled. "People who tell ]ies should have good memories," she chided him. "You remember, while we were having lunch at the Carlton. how you told pie all about yourself—l mean about being an only child. You said it wair a very lonely life, and that it ran in your family—that neither of your parents had any brothers or sisters. Y'et, in spite of that, you could produce an aunt and cousin! You knowRed, genealogy has always been a strong point of mine. . . . Are you begiiining Xc get the hang of the things you darling fabricator?'"

An ecstatic smile was spreading sTowly across Eed's face. "You knew— even that first time you lunched with me? Yet you agreed to see me again?" "Yes." said CeliaAeimply. "I suppose all's fair in love and war. Besides—'' But whatever elee she had to Ray wa completely lost against Red's shoulder as he caught her up in a bear-like hug. With a shriek and much snortin;r,~.in electric train thundered out of the station through the wall. Red and Celia didn't hear it!