Sad Cypress. Agatha Christie

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СКАЧАТЬ an excuse, doesn’t it, for going down?’

      ‘Yes. I was thinking the other day—’

      Roddy finished the sentence for her:

      ‘—That we hadn’t been down as often as we might. I thought that, too. When she first had her stroke we went down almost every other week-end. And now it must be almost two months since we were there.’

      Elinor said:

      ‘We’d have gone if she’d asked for us—at once.’

      ‘Yes, of course. And we know that she likes Nurse O’Brien and is well looked after. All the same, perhaps we have been a bit slack. I’m talking now not from the money point of view—but the sheer human one.’

      Elinor nodded.

      ‘I know.’

      ‘So that filthy letter has done some good, after all! We’ll go down to protect our interests and because we’re fond of the old dear!’

      He lit a match and set fire to the letter which he took from Elinor’s hand.

      ‘Wonder who wrote it?’ he said. ‘Not that it matters… Someone who was “on our side”, as we used to say when we were kids. Perhaps they’ve done us a good turn, too. Jim Partington’s mother went out to the Riviera to live, had a handsome young Italian doctor to attend her, became quite crazy about him and left him every penny she had. Jim and his sisters tried to upset the will, but couldn’t.’

      Elinor said:

      ‘Aunt Laura likes the new doctor who’s taken over Dr Ransome’s practice—but not to that extent! Anyway, that horrid letter mentioned a girl. It must be Mary.’

      Roddy said:

      ‘We’ll go down and see for ourselves…’

      Nurse O’Brien rustled out of Mrs Welman’s bedroom and into the bathroom. She said over her shoulder:

      ‘I’ll just pop the kettle on. You could do with a cup of tea before you go on, I’m sure, Nurse.’

      Nurse Hopkins said comfortably:

      ‘Well, dear, I can always do with a cup of tea. I always say there’s nothing like a nice cup of tea—a strong cup!’

      Nurse O’Brien said as she filled the kettle and lit the gas-ring:

      ‘I’ve got everything here in this cupboard—teapot and cups and sugar—and Edna brings me up fresh milk twice a day. No need to be forever ringing bells. ’Tis a fine gas-ring, this; boils a kettle in a flash.’

      Nurse O’Brien was a tall red-haired woman of thirty with flashing white teeth, a freckled face and an engaging smile. Her cheerfulness and vitality made her a favourite with her patients. Nurse Hopkins, the District Nurse who came every morning to assist with the bed-making and toilet of the heavy old lady, was a homely-looking middle-aged woman with a capable air and a brisk manner.

      She said now approvingly:

      ‘Everything’s very well done in this house.’

      The other nodded.

      ‘Yes, old-fashioned, some of it, no central heating, but plenty of fires and all the maids are very obliging girls and Mrs Bishop looks after them well.’

      Nurse Hopkins said:

      ‘These girls nowadays—I’ve no patience with ’em—don’t know what they want, most of them—and can’t do a decent day’s work.’

      ‘Mary Gerrard’s a nice girl,’ said Nurse O’Brien. ‘I really don’t know what Mrs Welman would do without her. You saw how she asked for her now? Ah, well, she’s a lovely creature, I will say, and she’s got a way with her.’

      Nurse Hopkins said:

      ‘I’m sorry for Mary. That old father of hers does his best to spite the girl.’

      ‘Not a civil word in his head, the old curmudgeon,’ said Nurse O’Brien. ‘There, the kettle’s singing. I’ll wet the tea as soon as it comes to the boil.’

      The tea was made and poured, hot and strong. The two nurses sat with it in Nurse O’Brien’s room next door to Mrs Welman’s bedroom.

      ‘Mr Welman and Miss Carlisle are coming down,’ said Nurse O’Brien. ‘There was a telegram came this morning.’

      ‘There now, dear,’ said Nurse Hopkins. ‘I thought the old lady was looking excited about something. It’s some time since they’ve been down, isn’t it?’

      ‘It must be two months and over. Such a nice young gentleman, Mr Welman. But very proud-looking.’

      Nurse Hopkins said:

      ‘I saw her picture in the Tatler the other day—with a friend at Newmarket.’

      Nurse O’Brien said:

      ‘She’s very well known in society, isn’t she? And always has such lovely clothes. Do you think she’s really good-looking, Nurse?’

      Nurse Hopkins said:

      ‘Difficult to tell what these girls really look like under their make-up! In my opinion, she hasn’t got anything like the looks Mary Gerrard has!’

      Nurse O’Brien pursed her lips and put her head on one side.

      ‘You may be right now. But Mary hasn’t got the style!’

      Nurse Hopkins said sententiously:

      ‘Fine feathers make fine birds.’

      ‘Another cup of tea, Nurse?’

      ‘Thank you, Nurse. I don’t mind if I do.’

      Over their steaming cups the women drew a little closer together.

      Nurse O’Brien said:

      ‘An odd thing happened last night. I went in at two o’clock to settle my dear comfortably, as I always do, and she was lying there awake. But she must have been dreaming, for as soon as I got into the room she said, “The photograph. I must have the photograph.”

      ‘So I said, “Why, of course, Mrs Welman. But wouldn’t you rather wait till morning?” And she said, “No, I want to look at it now.” So I said, “Well, where is this photograph? Is it the one of Mr Roderick you’re meaning?” And she said, “Roder-ick? No. Lewis.” And she began to struggle, and I went to lift her and she got out her keys from the little box beside her bed and told me to unlock the second drawer of the tall-boy, and there, sure enough, was a big photograph in a silver frame. Such a handsome man. And “Lewis” written across the corner. Old-fashioned, of course, must have been taken many years ago. I took it to her and she held it there, staring at it a long time. And she just murmured. “Lewis—Lewis.” Then she sighed and gave it to me and told me to put it back. And СКАЧАТЬ