Sad Cypress. Agatha Christie

will be in plenty of time. But I’m anxious to set Mrs Welman’s mind at rest as soon as possible. If you will come up with me now, Miss Carlisle, I think together we shall be able to reassure her.’

      ‘Of course. I will come up at once.’

      Roddy said hopefully:

      ‘You don’t want me?’

      He felt faintly ashamed of himself, but he had a nervous dread of going up to the sick-room, of seeing Aunt Laura lying there inarticulate and helpless.

      Dr Lord reassured him promptly.

      ‘Not the least need, Mr Welman. Better not to have too many people in the room.’

      Roddy’s relief showed plainly.

      Dr Lord and Elinor went upstairs. Nurse O’Brien was with the patient.

      Laura Welman, breathing deeply and stertorously, lay as though in a stupor. Elinor stood looking down on her, shocked by the drawn, twisted face.

      Suddenly Mrs Welman’s right eyelid quivered and opened. A faint change came over her face as she recognized Elinor.

      She tried to speak.

      ‘Elinor…’ The word would have been meaningless to anyone who had not guessed at what she wanted to say.

      Elinor said quickly:

      ‘I’m here, Aunt Laura. You’re worried about something? You want me to send for Mr Seddon?’

      Another of those hoarse raucous sounds. Elinor guessed at the meaning. She said:

      ‘Mary Gerrard?’

      Slowly the right hand moved shakily in assent.

      A long burble of sound came from the sick woman’s lips. Dr Lord and Elinor frowned helplessly. Again and again it came. Then Elinor got a word.

      ‘Provision? You want to make provision for her in your will? You want her to have some money? I see, dear Aunt Laura. That will be quite simple. Mr Seddon will come down tomorrow and everything shall be arranged exactly as you wish.’

      The sufferer seemed relieved. The look of distress faded from that appealing eye. Elinor took her hand in hers and felt a feeble pressure from the fingers.

      Mrs Welman said with a great effort:

      ‘You—all—you…’

      Elinor said: ‘Yes, yes, leave it all to me. I will see that everything you want is done!’

      She felt the pressure of the fingers again. Then it relaxed. The eyelids drooped and closed.

      Dr Lord laid a hand on Elinor’s arm and drew her gently away out of the room. Nurse O’Brien resumed her seat near the bed.

      Outside on the landing Mary Gerrard was talking to Nurse Hopkins. She started forward.

      ‘Oh, Dr Lord, can I go in to her, please?’

      He nodded.

      ‘Keep quite quiet, though, and don’t disturb her.’

      Mary went into the sick-room.

      Dr Lord said:

      ‘Your train was late. You—’ He stopped.

      Elinor had turned her head to look after Mary. Suddenly she became aware of his abrupt silence. She turned her head and looked at him inquiringly. He was staring at her, a startled look in his face. The colour rose in Elinor’s cheeks.

      She said hurriedly:

      ‘I beg your pardon. What did you say?’

      Peter Lord said slowly:

      ‘What was I saying? I don’t remember. Miss Carlisle, you were splendid in there!’ He spoke warmly. ‘Quick to understand, reassuring, everything you should have been.’

      The very faintest of sniffs came from Nurse Hopkins.

      Elinor said:

      ‘Poor darling. It upset me terribly seeing her like that.’

      ‘Of course. But you didn’t show it. You must have great self-control.’

      Elinor said, her lips set very straight:

      ‘I’ve learnt not—to show my feelings.’

      The doctor said slowly:

      ‘All the same the mask’s bound to slip once in a while.’

      Nurse Hopkins had bustled into the bathroom. Elinor said, raising her delicate eyebrows and looking full at him:

      ‘The mask?’

      Dr Lord said:

      ‘The human face is, after all, nothing more nor less than a mask.’

      ‘And underneath?’

      ‘Underneath is the primitive human man or woman.’

      She turned away quickly and led the way downstairs.

      Peter Lord followed, puzzled and unwontedly serious.

      Roddy came out into the hall to meet them.

      ‘Well?’ he asked anxiously.

      Elinor said:

      ‘Poor darling. It’s very sad to see her… I shouldn’t go, Roddy—till—till—she asks for you.’

      Roddy asked:

      ‘Did she want anything—special?’

      Peter Lord said to Elinor:

      ‘I must be off now. There’s nothing more I can do for the moment. I’ll look in early tomorrow. Goodbye, Miss Carlisle. Don’t—don’t worry too much.’

      He held her hand in his for a moment or two. He had a strangely reassuring and comforting clasp. He looked at her, Elinor thought, rather oddly as though—as though he was sorry for her.

      As the door shut behind the doctor, Roddy repeated his question.

      Elinor said:

      ‘Aunt Laura is worried about—about certain business matters. I managed to pacify her and told her Mr Seddon would certainly come down tomorrow. We must telephone him first thing.’

      Roddy asked:

      ‘Does she want to make a new will?’

      Elinor answered:

      ‘She didn’t say so.’

      ‘What did she—?’

      He stopped in the middle of the question.

      Mary Gerrard was running down the stairs. She crossed the hall and disappeared through the door to the kitchen quarters.

      Elinor said in a harsh voice:

      ‘Yes? What is it you wanted to ask?’

      Roddy said vaguely:

      ‘I—what? I’ve forgotten what it was.’

      He was staring at the door through which Mary Gerrard had gone.

      Elinor’s hands closed. She could feel her long, pointed nails biting into the flesh of her palms.

      She thought:

      ‘I can’t bear it—I can’t bear it…it’s not imagination…it’s true… Roddy—Roddy I can’t lose you…’

      And she thought:

      ‘What did that man—the doctor—what did he see in my face upstairs? He saw something… Oh, God, how awful life is—to feel as I feel now. Say something, fool. Pull yourself together!’

      Aloud she said, in her calm voice:

      ‘About meals, Roddy. I’m not very hungry. I’ll sit with