Death Comes as the End. Агата Кристи

first sense of unfamiliarity and strangeness, induced in her, she believed, by Hori’s words, had gone. She was the same Renisenb—Yahmose, Satipy, Sobek and Kait were all the same—now, as in the past, there was all the bustle and fuss of preparations for Imhotep’s return. Word had come ahead that he would be with them before nightfall. One of the servants had been posted on the river bank to give warning of the master’s approach, and suddenly his voice rang out loud and clear giving the agreed call.

      Renisenb dropped her flowers and ran out with the others. They all hastened towards the mooring place on the river bank. Yahmose and Sobek were already there in a little crowd of villagers, fishermen and farm labourers, all calling out excitedly and pointing.

      Yes, there was the barge with its great square sail coming fast up the river with the North wind bellying out the sail. Close behind it was the kitchen barge crowded with men and women. Presently Renisenb could make out her father sitting holding a lotus flower and with him someone whom she took to be a singer.

      The cries on the bank redoubled, Imhotep waved a welcoming hand, the sailors were heaving and pulling on the halyards. There were cries of ‘Welcome to the master,’ calls upon the Gods, and thanks for his safe return, and a few moments later Imhotep came ashore, greeting his family and answering the loud salutations that etiquette demanded.

      ‘Praise be to Sobek, the child of Neith, who has brought you safely on the water!’ ‘Praise be to Ptah, south of the Memphite wall, who brings you to us! Thanks be to Ré who illumines the Two Lands!’

      Renisenb pressed forward, intoxicated with the general excitement.

      Imhotep drew himself up importantly and suddenly Renisenb thought: ‘But he is a small man. I thought of him as much bigger than that.’

      A feeling that was almost dismay passed over her.

      Had her father shrunk? Or was her own memory at fault? She thought of him as rather a splendid being, tyrannical, often fussy, exhorting everybody right and left, and sometimes provoking her to quiet inward laughter, but nevertheless a personage. But this small, stout, elderly man, looking so full of his own importance and yet somehow failing to impress—what was wrong with her? What were these disloyal thoughts that came into her head?

      Imhotep, having finished the sonorous and ceremonial phrases, had arrived at the stage of more personal greetings. He embraced his sons.

      ‘Ah, my good Yahmose, all smiles, you have been diligent in my absence, I am sure … And Sobek, my handsome son, still given to merriness of heart, I see. And here is Ipy—my dearest Ipy—let me look at you—stand away—so. Grown bigger, more of a man, how it rejoices my heart to hold you again! And Renisenb—my dear daughter—once more in the home. Satipy, Kait, my no less dear daughters … And Henet—my faithful Henet—’

      Henet was kneeling, embracing his knees, and ostentatiously wiping tears of joy from her eyes.

      ‘It is good to see you, Henet—you are well—happy? As devoted as ever—that is pleasant to the heart …

      ‘And my excellent Hori, so clever with his accounts and his pen! All has prospered? I am sure it has.’

      Then, the greetings finished and the surrounding murmur dying down, Imhotep raised his hand for silence and spoke out loud and clear.

      ‘My sons and daughters—friends. I have a piece of news for you. For many years, as you all know, I have been a lonely man in one respect. My wife (your mother, Yahmose and Sobek) and my sister (your mother, Ipy) have both gone to Osiris many years ago. So to you, Satipy and Kait, I bring a new sister to share your home. Behold, this is my concubine, Nofret, whom you shall love for my sake. She has come with me from Memphis in the North and will dwell here with you when I go away again.’

      As he spoke he drew forward a woman by the hand. She stood there beside him, her head flung back, her eyes narrowed, young, arrogant and beautiful.

      Renisenb thought, with a shock of surprise: ‘But she’s quite young—perhaps not as old as I am.’

      Nofret stood quite still. There was a faint smile on her lips—it had more derision in it than any anxiety to please.

      She had very straight black brows and a rich bronze skin, and her eyelashes were so long and thick that one could hardly see her eyes.

      The family, taken aback, stared in dumb silence. With a faint edge of irritation in his voice, Imhotep said:

      ‘Come now, children, welcome Nofret. Don’t you know how to greet your father’s concubine when he brings her to his house?’

      Haltingly and stumblingly the greetings were given.

      Imhotep, affecting a heartiness that perhaps concealed some uneasiness, exclaimed cheerfully:

      ‘That’s better! Nofret, Satipy and Kait and Renisenb will take you to the women’s quarters. Where are the trunks? Have the trunks been brought ashore?’

      The round-topped travelling trunks were being carried from the barge. Imhotep said to Nofret:

      ‘Your jewels and your clothes are here safely. Go and see to their bestowing.’

      Then, as the women moved away together, he turned to his sons.

      ‘And what of the estate? Does all go well?’

      ‘The lower fields that were rented to Nakht—’ began Yahmose, but his father cut him short.

      ‘No details now, good Yahmose. They can wait. Tonight is rejoicing. Tomorrow you and I and Hori here will get to business. Come, Ipy, my boy, let us walk to the house. How tall you have grown—your head is above mine.’

      Scowling, Sobek walked behind his father and Ipy. Into Yahmose’s ear he murmured:

      ‘Jewels and clothes—did you hear? That is where the profits of the Northern estates have gone. Our profits.’

      ‘Hush,’ whispered Yahmose. ‘Our father will hear.’

      ‘What if he does? I am not afraid of him as you are.’

      Once in the house, Henet came to Imhotep’s room to prepare the bath. She was all smiles.

      Imhotep abandoned a little of his defensive heartiness.

      ‘Well, Henet, and what do you think of my choice?’

      Although he had determined to carry things off with a high hand, he had known quite well that the arrival of Nofret would provoke a storm—at least in the women’s part of the house. Henet was different. A singularly devoted creature. She did not disappoint him.

      ‘She is beautiful! Quite beautiful! What hair, what limbs! She is worthy of you, Imhotep, what can I say more than that? Your dear wife who is dead will be glad that you have chosen such a companion to gladden your days.’

      ‘You think so, Henet?’

      ‘I am sure of it, Imhotep. After mourning her so many years it is time that you once more enjoyed life.’

      ‘You knew her well … I, too, felt it was time to live as a man should live. Er ahem—my sons’ wives and my daughter—they will take this with resentment perhaps?’

      ‘They had better not,’ said Henet. ‘After all, do they not all depend upon you in this house?’

      ‘Very true, very true,’ said Imhotep.

      ‘Your bounty feeds and clothes them—their welfare is entirely the result of your efforts.’

      ‘Yes, indeed.’ Imhotep sighed. ‘I am continually active on their behalf. I sometimes doubt if they realize all they owe to me.’

      ‘You must remind them of it,’ said Henet, nodding her head. ‘I, your humble devoted Henet, never forget what I owe you—but children are sometimes thoughtless and selfish, thinking, perhaps, that it is they who are important and not realizing that they only carry out the instructions that you give.’