By the Pricking of My Thumbs. Агата Кристи

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       Was It Your Poor Child?

      How Sunny Ridge had come by its name would be difficult to say. There was nothing prominently ridge-like about it. The grounds were flat, which was eminently more suitable for the elderly occupants. It had an ample, though rather undistinguished garden. It was a fairly large Victorian mansion kept in a good state of repair. There were some pleasant shady trees, a Virginia creeper running up the side of the house, and two monkey puzzles gave an exotic air to the scene. There were several benches in advantageous places to catch the sun, one or two garden chairs and a sheltered veranda on which the old ladies could sit sheltered from the east winds.

      Tommy rang the front door bell and he and Tuppence were duly admitted by a rather harassed-looking young woman in a nylon overall. She showed them into a small sitting-room saying rather breathlessly, ‘I’ll tell Miss Packard. She’s expecting you and she’ll be down in a minute. You won’t mind waiting just a little, will you, but it’s old Mrs Carraway. She’s been and swallowed her thimble again, you see.’

      ‘How on earth did she do a thing like that?’ asked Tuppence, surprised.

      ‘Does it for fun,’ explained the household help briefly. ‘Always doing it.’

      She departed and Tuppence sat down and said thoughtfully, ‘I don’t think I should like to swallow a thimble. It’d be awfully bobbly as it went down. Don’t you think so?’

      They had not very long to wait however before the door opened and Miss Packard came in, apologizing as she did so. She was a big, sandy-haired woman of about fifty with the air of calm competence about her which Tommy had always admired.

      ‘I’m sorry if I have kept you waiting, Mr Beresford,’ she said. ‘How do you do, Mrs Beresford, I’m so glad you’ve come too.’

      ‘Somebody swallowed something, I hear,’ said Tommy.

      ‘Oh, so Marlene told you that? Yes, it was old Mrs Carraway. She’s always swallowing things. Very difficult, you know, because one can’t watch them all the time. Of course one knows children do it, but it seems a funny thing to be a hobby of an elderly woman, doesn’t it? It’s grown upon her, you know. She gets worse every year. It doesn’t seem to do her any harm, that’s the cheeriest thing about it.’

      ‘Perhaps her father was a sword swallower,’ suggested Tuppence.

      ‘Now that’s a very interesting idea, Mrs Beresford. Perhaps it would explain things.’ She went on, ‘I’ve told Miss Fanshawe that you were coming, Mr Beresford. I don’t know really whether she quite took it in. She doesn’t always, you know.’

      ‘How has she been lately?’

      ‘Well, she’s failing rather rapidly now, I’m afraid,’ said Miss Packard in a comfortable voice. ‘One never really knows how much she takes in and how much she doesn’t. I told her last night and she said she was sure I must be mistaken because it was term time. She seemed to think that you were still at school. Poor old things, they get very muddled up sometimes, especially over time. However, this morning when I reminded her about your visit, she just said it was quite impossible because you were dead. Oh well,’ Miss Packard went on cheerfully, ‘I expect she’ll recognize you when she sees you.’

      ‘How is she in health? Much the same?’

      ‘Well, perhaps as well as can be expected. Frankly, you know, I don’t think she’ll be with us very much longer. She doesn’t suffer in any way but her heart condition’s no better than it was. In fact, it’s rather worse. So I think I’d like you to know that it’s just as well to be prepared, so that if she did go suddenly it wouldn’t be any shock to you.’

      ‘We brought her some flowers,’ said Tuppence.

      ‘And a box of chocolates,’ said Tommy.

      ‘Oh, that’s very kind of you I’m sure. She’ll be very pleased. Would you like to come up now?’

      Tommy and Tuppence rose and followed Miss Packard from the room. She led them up the broad staircase. As they passed one of the rooms in the passage upstairs, it opened suddenly and a little woman about five foot high trotted out, calling in a loud shrill voice, ‘I want my cocoa. I want my cocoa. Where’s Nurse Jane? I want my cocoa.’

      A woman in a nurse’s uniform popped out of the next door and said, ‘There, there, dear, it’s all right. You’ve had your cocoa. You had it twenty minutes ago.’

      ‘No I didn’t, Nurse. It’s not true. I haven’t had my cocoa. I’m thirsty.’

      ‘Well, you shall have another cup if you like.’

      ‘I can’t have another when I haven’t had one.’

      They passed on and Miss Packard, after giving a brief rap on a door at the end of the passage, opened it and passed in.

      ‘Here you are, Miss Fanshawe,’ she said brightly. ‘Here’s your nephew come to see you. Isn’t that nice?’

      In a bed near the window an elderly lady sat up abruptly on her raised pillows. She had iron-grey hair, a thin wrinkled face with a large, high-bridged nose and a general air of disapprobation. Tommy advanced.

      ‘Hullo, Aunt Ada,’ he said. ‘How are you?’

      Aunt Ada paid no attention to him, but addressed Miss Packard angrily.

      ‘I don’t know what you mean by showing gentlemen into a lady’s bedroom,’ she said. ‘Wouldn’t have been thought proper at all in my young days! Telling me he’s my nephew indeed! Who is he? A plumber or the electrician?’

      ‘Now, now, that’s not very nice,’ said Miss Packard mildly.

      ‘I’m your nephew, Thomas Beresford,’ said Tommy. He advanced the box of chocolates. ‘I’ve brought you a box of chocolates.’

      ‘You can’t get round me that way,’ said Aunt Ada. ‘I know your kind. Say anything, you will. Who’s this woman?’ She eyed Mrs Beresford with an air of distaste.

      ‘I’m Prudence,’ said Mrs Beresford. ‘Your niece, Prudence.’

      ‘What a ridiculous name,’ said Aunt Ada. ‘Sounds like a parlourmaid. My Great-uncle Mathew had a parlourmaid called Comfort and the housemaid was called Rejoice-in-the-Lord. Methodist she was. But my Great-aunt Fanny soon put a stop to that. Told her she was going to be called Rebecca as long as she was in her house.’

      ‘I brought you a few roses,’ said Tuppence.

      ‘I don’t care for flowers in a sick-room. Use up all the oxygen.’

      ‘I’ll put them in a vase for you,’ said Miss Packard.

      ‘You won’t do anything of the kind. You ought to have learnt by now that I know my own mind.’

      ‘You seem in fine form, Aunt Ada,’ said Mr Beresford. ‘Fighting fit, I should say.’

      ‘I can take your measure all right. What d’you mean by saying that СКАЧАТЬ