Death Comes as the End. Агата Кристи

a shrill chuckle.

      ‘Little good that would be if you wanted to go! And why do you not want to go? I do not understand you. What is there for you here? You are a girl who has lived in cities—who has perhaps travelled. Why do you choose the monotony of day after day here—amongst those who—I am frank—do not like you—who in fact dislike you?’

      ‘So you dislike me?’

      Esa shook her head.

      ‘No—I do not dislike you. I am old and though I can see but dimly—I can still see beauty and enjoy it. You are beautiful, Nofret, and the sight of you pleases my old eyes. Because of your beauty I wish you well. I am warning you. Go North with my son.’

      Again Nofret repeated: ‘He wishes me to stay here.’

      The submissive tone was now definitely impregnated with mockery. Esa said sharply:

      ‘You have a purpose in remaining here. What is it, I wonder? Very well, on your own head be it. But be careful. Act discreetly. And trust no one.’

      She wheeled abruptly and went out. Nofret stood quite still. Very slowly her lips curved upwards in a wide, catlike smile.

PART TWO

       CHAPTER 6

       First Month of Winter 4th Day

      Renisenb had got into the habit of going up to the Tomb almost every day. Sometimes Yahmose and Hori would be there together, sometimes Hori alone, sometimes there would be no one—but always Renisenb was aware of a curious relief and peace—a feeling almost of escape. She liked it best when Hori was there alone. There was something in his gravity, his incurious acceptance of her coming, that gave her a strange feeling of contentment. She would sit in the shade of the rock chamber entrance with one knee raised and her hands clasped round it, and stare out over the green belt of cultivation to where the Nile showed a pale gleaming blue and beyond it to a distance of pale soft fawns and creams and pinks, all melting hazily into each other.

      She had come the first time, months ago now, on a sudden wish to escape from a world of intense femininity. She wanted stillness and companionship—and she had found them here. The wish to escape was still with her, but it was no longer a mere revulsion from the stress and fret of domesticity. It was something more definite, more alarming.

      She said to Hori one day: ‘I am afraid …’

      ‘Why are you afraid, Renisenb?’ He studied her gravely.

      Renisenb took a minute or two to think. Then she said slowly:

      ‘Do you remember saying to me once that there were two evils—one that came from without and one from within?’

      ‘Yes, I remember.’

      ‘You were speaking, so you said afterwards, about diseases that attack fruit and crops, but I have been thinking—it is the same with people.’

      Hori nodded slowly.

      ‘So you have found that out … Yes, you are right, Renisenb.’

      Renisenb said abruptly:

      ‘It is happening now—down there at the house. Evil has come—from outside! And I know who has brought it. It is Nofret.’

      Hori said slowly:

      ‘You think so?’

      Renisenb nodded vigorously.

      ‘Yes, yes, I know what I am talking about. Listen, Hori, when I came up to you here and said that everything was the same even to Satipy and Kait quarrelling—that was true. But those quarrels, Hori, were not real quarrels. I mean Satipy and Kait enjoyed them—they made the time pass—neither of the women felt any real anger against each other! But now it is different. Now they do not just say things that are rude and unpleasant—they say things that they mean shall hurt—and when they have seen that a thing hurts then they are glad! It is horrid, Hori—horrid! Yesterday Satipy was so angry that she ran a long gold pin into Kait’s arm—and a day or two ago Kait dropped a heavy copper pan full of boiling fat over Satipy’s foot. And it is the same everywhere—Satipy rails at Yahmose far into the night—we can all hear her. Yahmose looks sick and tired and hunted. And Sobek goes off to the village and stays there with women and comes back drunk and shouts and boasts and says how clever he is!’

      ‘Some of these things are true, I know,’ said Hori, slowly. ‘But why should you blame Nofret?’

      ‘Because it is her doing! It is always the things she says—little things—clever things—that start it all. She is like the goad with which you prick oxen. She is clever, too, in knowing just what to say. Sometimes I think it is Henet who tells her …’

      ‘Yes,’ said Hori thoughtfully. ‘That might well be.’

      Renisenb shivered.

      ‘I don’t like Henet. I hate the way she creeps about. She is so devoted to us all, and yet none of us want her devotion. How could my mother have brought her here and been so fond of her?’

      ‘We have only Henet’s word for that,’ said Hori drily.

      ‘Why should Henet be so fond of Nofret and follow her round and whisper and fawn upon her? Oh, Hori, I tell you I am afraid! I hate Nofret! I wish she would go away. She is beautiful and cruel and bad!’

      ‘What a child you are, Renisenb.’

      Then Hori added quietly:

      ‘Nofret is coming up here now.’

      Renisenb turned her head. Together they watched Nofret come slowly up the steep path that led up the cliff face. She was smiling to herself and humming a little tune under her breath.

      When she reached the place where they were, she looked round her and smiled. It was a smile of amused curiosity. ‘So this is where you slip away to every day, Renisenb.’

      Renisenb did not answer. She had the angry, defeated feeling of a child whose refuge has been discovered.

      Nofret looked about her again.

      ‘And this is the famous Tomb?’