Miss Marple – Miss Marple and Mystery: The Complete Short Stories. Агата Кристи

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СКАЧАТЬ suppose,’ he mused, ‘that that was some curious effect of my subconscious self. She can’t have said cucumber. The whole thing is very extraordinary. Did she say cucumber, or didn’t she?’

      He strolled up and down, irresolutely.

      ‘320 Kirk Street. I wonder what it’s all about? She’ll be expecting the other man to turn up. I wish I could have explained. 320 Kirk Street. The word is cucumber – oh, impossible, absurd – hallucination of a busy brain.’

      He glanced malevolently at the typewriter.

      ‘What good are you, I should like to know? I’ve been looking at you all the morning, and a lot of good it’s done me. An author should get his plot from life – from life, do you hear? I’m going out to get one now.’

      He clapped a hat on his head, gazed affectionately at his priceless collection of old enamels, and left the flat.

      Kirk Street, as most Londoners know, is a long, straggling thoroughfare, chiefly devoted to antique shops, where all kinds of spurious goods are offered at fancy prices. There are also old brass shops, glass shops, decayed second-hand shops and second-hand clothes dealers.

      No. 320 was devoted to the sale of old glass. Glass-ware of all kinds filled it to overflowing. It was necessary for Anthony to move gingerly as he advanced up a centre aisle flanked by wine glasses and with lustres and chandeliers swaying and twinkling over his head. A very old lady was sitting at the back of the shop. She had a budding moustache that many an undergraduate might have envied, and a truculent manner.

      She looked at Anthony and said, ‘Well?’ in a forbidding voice.

      Anthony was a young man somewhat easily discomposed. He immediately inquired the price of some hock glasses.

      ‘Forty-five shillings for half a dozen.’

      ‘Oh, really,’ said Anthony. ‘Rather nice, aren’t they? How much are these things?’

      ‘Beautiful, they are, old Waterford. Let you have the pair for eighteen guineas.’

      Mr Eastwood felt that he was laying up trouble for himself. In another minute he would be buying something, hypnotized by this fierce old woman’s eye. And yet he could not bring himself to leave the shop.

      ‘What about that?’ he asked, and pointed to a chandelier.

      ‘Thirty-five guineas.’

      ‘Ah!’ said Mr Eastwood regretfully. ‘That’s rather more than I can afford.’

      ‘What do you want?’ asked the old lady. ‘Something for a wedding present?’

      ‘That’s it,’ said Anthony, snatching at the explanation. ‘But they’re very difficult to suit.’

      ‘Ah, well,’ said the lady, rising with an air of determination. ‘A nice piece of old glass comes amiss to nobody. I’ve got a couple of old decanters here – and there’s a nice little liqueur set, just the thing for a bride –’

      For the next ten minutes Anthony endured agonies. The lady had him firmly in hand. Every conceivable specimen of the glass-maker’s art was paraded before his eyes. He became desperate.

      ‘Beautiful, beautiful,’ he exclaimed in a perfunctory manner, as he put down a large goblet that was being forced on his attention. Then blurted out hurriedly, ‘I say, are you on the telephone here?’

      ‘No, we’re not. There’s a call office at the post office just opposite. Now, what do you say, the goblet – or these fine old rummers?’

      Not being a woman, Anthony was quite unversed in the gentle art of getting out of a shop without buying anything.

      ‘I’d better have the liqueur set,’ he said gloomily.

      It seemed the smallest thing. He was terrified of being landed with the chandelier.

      With bitterness in his heart he paid for his purchase. And then, as the old lady was wrapping up the parcel, courage suddenly returned to him. After all, she would only think him eccentric, and, anyway, what the devil did it matter what she thought?

      ‘Cucumber,’ he said, clearly and firmly.

      The old crone paused abruptly in her wrapping operations.

      ‘Eh? What did you say?’

      ‘Nothing,’ lied Anthony defiantly.

      ‘Oh! I thought you said cucumber.’

      ‘So I did,’ said Anthony defiantly.

      ‘Well,’ said the old lady. ‘Why ever didn’t you say that before? Wasting my time. Through that door there and upstairs. She’s waiting for you.’

      As though in a dream, Anthony passed through the door indicated, and climbed some extremely dirty stairs. At the top of them a door stood ajar displaying a tiny sitting-room.

      Sitting on a chair, her eyes fixed on the door, and an expression of eager expectancy on her face, was a girl.

      Such a girl! She really had the ivory pallor that Anthony had so often written about. And her eyes! Such eyes! She was not English, that could be seen at a glance. She had a foreign exotic quality which showed itself even in the costly simplicity of her dress.

      Anthony paused in the doorway, somewhat abashed. The moment of explanations seemed to have arrived. But with a cry of delight the girl rose and flew into his arms.

      ‘You have come,’ she cried. ‘You have come. Oh, the saints and the Holy Madonna be praised.’

      Anthony, never one to miss opportunities, echoed her fervently. She drew away at last, and looked up in his face with a charming shyness.

      ‘I should never have known you,’ she declared. ‘Indeed I should not.’

      ‘Wouldn’t you?’ said Anthony feebly.

      ‘No, even your eyes seem different – and you are ten times handsomer than I ever thought you would be.’

      ‘Am I?’

      To himself Anthony was saying, ‘Keep calm, my boy, keep calm. The situation is developing very nicely, but don’t lose your head.’

      ‘I may kiss you again, yes?’

      ‘Of course you can,’ said Anthony heartily. ‘As often as you like.’

      There was a very pleasant interlude.

      ‘I wonder who the devil I am?’ thought Anthony. ‘I hope to goodness the real fellow won’t turn up. What a perfect darling she is.’

      Suddenly the girl drew away from him, and a momentary terror showed in her face.

      ‘You were not followed here?’

      ‘Lord, no.’

      ‘Ah, but they are very cunning. You do not know them СКАЧАТЬ