帷幕20

III

Mrs Franklin and Boyd Carrington came in shortly after we got back to thehouse. He had taken her in his car to Tadcaster because she wanted to dosome shopping.

She had done it, I gather, pretty thoroughly. Lots of parcels came out ofthe car and she was looking quite animated, talking and laughing andwith quite a colour in her cheeks.

She sent Boyd Carrington up with a particularly fragile purchase and Igallantly received a further consignment.

Her talk was quicker and more nervous than usual. ‘Frightfully hot, isn’tit? I think there’s going to be a storm. This weather must break soon. Theysay, you know, there’s quite a water shortage. The worst drought there’sbeen for years.’

She went on, turning to Elizabeth Cole: ‘What have you all been doingwith yourselves? Where’s John? He said he’d got a headache and was go-ing to walk it off. Very unlike him to have a headache. I think, you know,he’s worried about his experiments. They aren’t going right or something.

I wish he’d talk more about things.’

She paused and then addressed Norton: ‘You’re very silent, Mr Norton.

Is anything the matter? You look –

you look scared. You haven’t seen the ghost of old Mrs Whoever-it-was?’

Norton started. ‘No, no. I haven’t seen any ghosts. I – I was just thinkingof something.’

It was at that moment that Curtiss came through the doorway wheelingPoirot in his invalid chair.

He stopped with it in the hall, preparatory to taking his master out andcarrying him up the stairs.

Poirot, his eyes suddenly alert, looked from one to the other of us.

He said sharply: ‘What is it? Is anything the matter?’

None of us answered for a minute, then Barbara Franklin said with alittle artificial laugh: ‘No, of course not. What should be the matter? It’sjust – perhaps thunder coming? I – oh dear – I’m terribly tired. Bring thosethings up, will you, Captain Hastings? Thank you so much.’

I followed her up the stairs and along the east wing. Her room was theend one on that side.

Mrs Franklin opened the door. I was behind her, my arms full of par-cels.

She stopped abruptly in the doorway. By the window Boyd Carringtonwas having his palm examined by Nurse Craven.

He looked up and laughed a little sheepishly. ‘Hullo, I’m having my for-tune told. Nurse is no end of a hand-reader.’

‘Really? I had no idea of that.’ Barbara Franklin’s voice was sharp. I hadan idea that she was annoyed with Nurse Craven. ‘Please take thesethings, Nurse, will you? And you might mix me an egg-flip. I feel verytired. A hot-water bottle, too, please. I’ll get to bed as soon as possible.’

‘Certainly, Mrs Franklin.’

Nurse Craven moved forward. She showed no signs of anything but pro-fessional concern.

Mrs Franklin said: ‘Please go, Bill, I’m terribly tired.’

Boyd Carrington looked very concerned. ‘Oh, I say, Babs, has it been toomuch for you? I am sorry. What a thoughtless fool I am. I shouldn’t havelet you overtire yourself.’

Mrs Franklin gave him her angelic martyr’s smile. ‘I didn’t want to sayanything. I do hate being tiresome.’

We two men went out of the room, somewhat abashed, and left the twowomen together.

Boyd Carrington said contritely: ‘What a damned fool I am. Barbaraseemed so bright and gay I forgot all about tiring her. Hope she’s notknocked herself up.’

I said mechanically: ‘Oh, I expect she’ll be all right after a night’s rest.’

He went down the stairs. I hesitated and then went along the other wingtowards my own room, and Poirot’s. The little man would be expectingme. For the first time I was reluctant to go to him. I had so much to occupymy thoughts, and I still had that dull sick feeling at the pit of my stomach.

I went slowly along the corridor.

From inside Allerton’s room I heard voices. I don’t think I meant con-sciously to listen though I stopped for a minute automatically outside hisdoor. Then, suddenly, the door opened and my daughter Judith came out.

She stopped dead when she saw me. I caught her by the arm andhustled her along into my room. I was suddenly intensely angry.

‘What do you mean by going to that fellow’s room?’ She looked at mesteadily. She showed no anger now, only complete coldness. For some fewseconds she did not reply.

I shook her by the arm. ‘I won’t have it, I tell you. You don’t know whatyou are doing.’

She said then, in a low biting voice: ‘I think you have a perfectly filthymind.’

I said: ‘I dare say I have. It’s a reproach your generation is fond of level-ling at mine. We have, at least, certain standards. Understand this, Judith,I forbid you absolutely to have anything more to do with that man.’

She looked at me steadily. Then she said quietly: ‘I see. So that’s it.’

‘Do you deny that you’re in love with him?’

‘No.’

‘But you don’t know what he is. You can’t know.’ Deliberately, withoutmincing my language, I repeated to her the story I had heard about Aller-ton.

‘You see,’ I said when I had finished. ‘That’s the kind of foul brute he is.’

She seemed quite annoyed. Her lips curled upwards scornfully.

‘I never thought he was a saint, I can assure you.’

‘Doesn’t this make any difference to you? Judith, you can’t be utterly de-praved.’

‘Call it that if you like.’

‘Judith, you haven’t – you aren’t –’

I could not put my meaning into words. She shook her arm free frommy detaining hand.

‘Now, listen, Father. I do what I choose. You can’t bully me. And it’s nogood ranting. I shall do exactly as I please with my life, and you can’t stopme.’

In another instant she was out of the room.

I found my knees trembling.

I sank down on to a chair. It was worse – much worse than I thought.

The child was utterly infatuated. There was no one to whom I could ap-peal. Her mother, the only person she might have listened to, was dead. Itall depended on me.

I do not think that either before or since I have ever suffered as Isuffered then …

 

分享到：