‘And does it?’ asked Ravenscroft gradually becoming intrigued by his new travelling companion.
‘Not for me to say sir. Not being in need of a cure myself!’
‘And you sir, are?’
‘I am a man of the soil! Born on a farm I was, and glad of it as well. Tom Crabb, at your service sir.’
‘Samuel Ravenscroft.’
The two men shook hands.
‘You from London then?’
‘You are correct in your assumption sir — and yes, I am going to Malvern for the water cure.’
‘I knew it! As soon as I saw you, I thought this gent looks a bit peaky and is off to Malvern for his health,’ said Crabb leaning back in his seat and taking another mouthful of his sandwich. ‘And I wish you well of it sir.’
‘I thank you master Crabb,’ smiled Ravenscroft resuming his reading.
The train continued on its way, the neat fields and hedgerows soon giving way to a more open, rugged countryside. The four occupants of the compartment continued with their various activities in silence.
Presently the train slowed and made its way into another station, the sign announcing that they had arrived in the town of Evesham.
The young man rose from his seat.
‘Well Mr. Ravenscroft this is where I must leave you. Perhaps I might see you in Malvern during your stay?’
‘You never know Master Crabb. We might well meet again.’
‘Good day to you sir, I wish you well of Malvern’ — and with those words the young man was gone from the carriage.
‘Insufferable fellow!’ pronounced the elderly gentleman in the corner, speaking for the first time on their journey. Ravenscroft smiled and resumed his reading.
Fifteen minutes later the train drew into Worcester station. Ravenscroft took out his pocket watch and sighed.
‘It can sometimes seem like a long journey,’ said the elderly gentleman breaking the silence. ‘I could not help hearing that you are travelling to Malvern. May I enquire where you will be staying?’
‘I have made a reservation at the Tudor Hydropathic Establishment.’
‘Ah, a good choice, my dear sir, if I may say so; you could not have done better. Doctor Mountcourt, the proprietor is an acquaintance of mine. Mention my name and he will provide you with the greatest personal attention.’
‘Thank you, sir. And you are?’
‘Jabez Pitzer at your service sir. A long standing resident of Malvern Wells.’
The two men shook hands.
‘Allow me to give you my card.’
‘I thank you sir.’
‘I think you will like Malvern a great deal.’
‘I’m sure I will.’
‘Many of our visitors return time and again.’
‘The cure is not that effective then?’
Pitzer smiled. ‘We have many good reports. Perhaps if you are free tomorrow evening you would care to dine with us?’
‘That is most kind of you sir.’
‘Take a cab from Great Malvern. Everyone knows where we reside. My wife and I will expect you around 7.30.’
‘That is most generous of you sir.’
The two men resumed the reading of their newspapers as the guard announced the departure of the train from Worcester station. As they travelled across the bridge which spanned the river, Ravenscroft turned to admire the view of the cathedral in the distance, and began to wonder why he had accepted a dinner invitation from a person whom he scarcely knew.
A few minutes later the train stopped again.
‘This is Malvern Link Station,’ announced Pitzer, ‘Your stop is at Great Malvern.’
The lady with the dark veil rose from her seat.
‘Allow me to assist you ma’am,’ said Ravenscroft standing and reaching out for her bag from the rack above.
‘That will not be necessary sir.’
‘But I insist.’
The lady stepped onto the platform. Ravenscroft followed her with the bag and called out to one of the porters.
‘I thank you sir,’ said the lady from behind the veil. He had expected a much older voice, and wondered why she had been widowed so young.
He climbed back into the train and watched the veiled lady and the porter make their way out of the station.
The train continued on its way, and Ravenscroft began to gain views of his approaching destination. A large hill towered upwards on his right hand side and he caught glimpses of a number of fine buildings on its lower slopes. Shortly the guard announced that they had arrived at Great Malvern Station.
As he lifted his bag down from the rack, his travelling companion leaned forwards, and said ‘Until tomorrow evening then.’
‘I look forward to it sir.’
The two men shook hands again and Ravenscroft alighted from the train.
After admiring the brightly painted wrought iron decorations which adorned the station platform, he handed his ticket to the guard and made his way outside to where he found a number of horse drawn cabs waiting to collect the newly arrived passengers.
‘Where you going sir?’ asked one of the cabmen, reaching down for his bag.
‘The Tudor Hydropathic Establishment if you please my man.’
The driver smiled as Ravenscroft mounted the cab. The man cracked his whip and the vehicle set off at a brisk pace.
Ravenscroft leaned back in his seat. Their journey took them gradually upwards along a wide tree lined avenue, with individually styled, well built houses on either side of the road. Clearly Malvern had done well out of the water cure, thought Ravenscroft. At the end of the tree lined avenue the cab swung sharply to the right, before again climbing up a steep road. Now they passed a number of offices and shops, and then a fine medieval church. At the top of the incline the cab veered abruptly to the left and climbed yet again, before finally coming to a halt outside a large Victorian building. A hanging sign indicated that they had arrived at the Tudor Hydropathic Establishment.
‘Tudor governor,’ said the man steadying the horse.
Ravenscroft paid the driver and taking hold of his bag made his way through the doors of the building. A clerk was writing at a desk in the entrance hall way.
‘Good afternoon sir.’
‘I believe you are expecting me. Samuel Ravenscroft.’
‘Ah, yes sir. We received your telegram this morning. It is my pleasure to welcome you to the Tudor. Stebbins will you show this gentleman to his room.’
A youth, whom Ravenscroft judged to be no older than ten or twelve years of age, stepped forwards from out of the shadows, to claim his bag.
‘Doctor Mountcourt will see you at precisely 4.30 this afternoon,’ announced the clerk looking down at his ledger.
‘So soon.’
The clerk looked up from his work and smiled. ‘Doctor Mountcourt always likes to see his patients as soon as possible after their arrival.’
Ravenscroft followed the boy along the corridor.
‘Come from London has yer?’ inquired the youth as they made their way up a flight of stairs.
‘Yes.’
‘Never bin there.’
‘You might not like it. London is not all that it appears to be.’
‘Got to be better than this place,’ sniffed the youth coming to a halt outside one of the rooms.
‘After you, sir.’
Ravenscroft stepped into the bedroom.
‘I’ll put yer case ’ere sir.’
He observed that the room was simply furnished — a bed, table, chair, wardrobe, washstand and basin.
Stebbins coughed and shuffled his feet.
‘Oh yes, of course,’ he replied taking a coin from his pocket and giving it to the young boy.
‘Thanking yer most kindly sir. I hopes you will enjoy your stay ere, though not many do. If there’s anythin I can do for yer, like calling a cab, telling yer where the best places are, then Stebbins is your man.’
Ravenscroft smiled. ‘Thank you Stebbins. I will try and remember.’
The boy touched his head and left the room.
Ravenscroft walked over to the window and looked out at the fine view which stretched outwards from the lower slopes of the town, and out across the ever diminishing fields, until it reached another large hill in the far distance.