IV
“What’s the matter, Deb? You’re looking worried, my sweet.”
Deborah Beresford started, and then laughed, looking frankly¹ into TonyMarsdon’s sympathetic brown eyes. She liked Tony. He had brains—wasone of the most brilliant beginners in the coding department—and wasthought likely to go far.
Deborah enjoyed her job, though she found it made somewhat strenu-ous demands on her powers of concentration. It was tiring, but it wasworthwhile and it gave her a pleasant feeling of importance. This was realwork—not just hanging about a hospital waiting for a chance to nurse.
She said:
“Oh, nothing. Just family! You know.”
“Families are a bit trying. What’s yours been up to?”
“It’s my mother. To tell the truth, I’m just a bit worried about her.”
“Why? What’s happened?”
“Well, you see, she went down to Cornwall to a frightfully trying oldaunt of mine. Seventy-eight and completely gaga.”
“Sounds grim,” commented the young man sympathetically.
“Yes, it was really very noble of Mother. But she was rather hipped² any-way because nobody seemed to want her in this war. Of course, shenursed and did things in the last one—but it’s all quite different now, andthey don’t want these middle- aged³ people. They want people who areyoung and on the spot. Well, as I say, Mother got a bit hipped over it all,and so she went off down to Cornwall to stay with Aunt Gracie, and she’sbeen doing a bit in the garden, extra vegetable growing and all that.”
“Quite sound,” commented Tony.
“Yes, much the best thing she could do. She’s quite active still, youknow,” said Deborah kindly⁴.
“Well, that sounds all right.”
“Oh yes, it isn’t that. I was quite happy about her—had a letter only twodays ago sounding quite cheerful.”
“What’s the trouble, then?”
“The trouble is that I told Charles, who was going down to see his peoplein that part of the world, to go and look her up. And he did. And shewasn’t there.”
“Wasn’t there?”
“No. And she hadn’t been there! Not at all

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