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Five
The throwing open of the grounds of Gossington Hall for the benefit of the
St. John Ambulance Association was attended by a quite unprecedented1
number of people. Shilling admission fees mounted up in a highly satis-
factory fashion. For one thing, the weather was good, a clear sunny day.
But the preponderant attraction was undoubtedly2 the enormous local
curiosity to know exactly what these “film people” had done to Gossington
Hall. The most extravagant3 assumptions were entertained. The swimming
pool in particular caused immense satisfaction. Most people’s ideas of Hol-
lywood stars were of sunbathing4 by a pool in exotic surroundings and in
exotic company. That the climate of Hollywood might be more suited to
all, England always has one fine hot week in the summer and there is al-
ways one day that the Sunday papers publish articles on How to Keep
Cool, How to Have Cool Suppers and How to Make Cool Drinks. The pool
was almost exactly what everyone had imagined it might be. It was large,
its waters were blue, it had a kind of exotic pavilion for changing and was
reactions of the multitude were exactly as might have been expected and
“O-oh, isn’t it lovely!”
“Two penn’orth of splash here, all right!”
“Reminds me of that holiday camp I went to.”
“Wicked luxury I call it. It oughtn’t to be allowed.”
“Look at all that fancy marble. It must have cost the earth!”
“Don’t see why these people think they can come over here and spend
all the money they like.”
“Perhaps this’ll be on the telly sometime. That’ll be fun.”
Even Mr. Sampson, the oldest man in St. Mary Mead, boasting proudly
of being ninety-six though his relations insisted firmly that he was only
eighty-six, had staggered along supporting his rheumatic legs with a stick,
to see this excitement. He gave it his highest praise: “Ah, there’ll be a lot of
wickedness here, I don’t doubt. Naked men and women drinking and
smoking what they call in the papers them reefers. There’ll be all that, I
expect. Ah yes,” said Mr. Sampson with enormous pleasure, “there’ll be a
lot of wickedness.”
It was felt that the final seal of approval had been set on the afternoon’s
entertainment. For an extra shilling people were allowed to go into the
house, and study the new music room, the drawing room, the completely
unrecognizable dining room, now done in dark oak and Spanish leather,
and a few other joys.
“Never think this was Gossington Hall, would you, now?” said Mr.
Sampson’s daughter-in-law.
Mrs. Bantry strolled up fairly late and observed with pleasure that the
money was coming in well and that the attendance was phenomenal.
The large marquee in which tea was being served was jammed with
people. Mrs. Bantry hoped the buns were going to go round. There seemed
some very competent women, however, in charge. She herself made a
beeline for the herbaceous border and regarded it with a jealous eye. No
expense had been spared on the herbacous border, she was glad to note,
and it was a proper herbaceous border, well planned and arranged and
expensively stocked. No personal labours had gone into it, she was sure of
that. Some good gardening firm had been given the contract, no doubt. But
aided by carte blanche and the weather, they had turned out a very good
job.
Looking round her, she felt there was a faint flavour of a Buckingham
Palace garden party about the scene. Everybody was craning to see all
they could see, and from time to time a chosen few were led into one of
“Mrs. Bantry? You are Mrs. Bantry?”
“I’m Mrs. Bantry, yes.”
“Hailey Preston.” He shook hands with her. “I work for Mr. Rudd. Will
you come up to the second floor? Mr. and Mrs. Rudd are asking a few spe-
cial friends up there.”
Duly honoured Mrs. Bantry followed him. They went in through what
bottom of the main stairs. Hailey Preston unhooked it and she passed
through. Just in front of her Mrs. Bantry observed Councillor and Mrs. All-
“Wonderful what they’ve done, isn’t it, Mrs. Bantry?” panted Mrs. All-
cock. “I’d like to have a look at the bathrooms, I must say, but I suppose I
shan’t get the chance.” Her voice was wistful.
At the top of the stairs Marina Gregg and Jason Rudd were receiving this
thrown into the landing so as to make a wide lounge-like effect. Giuseppe
the butler was officiating with drinks.
A stout man in livery was announcing guests.
“Councillor and Mrs. Allcock,” he boomed.
Marina Gregg was being, as Mrs. Bantry had described her to Miss
Marple, completely natural and charming. She could already hear Mrs.
Allcock saying later: “—and so unspoiled, you know, in spite of being so
famous.”
How very nice of Mrs. Allcock to come, and the Councillor, and she did
hope they’d enjoy their afternoon. “Jason please look after Mrs. Allcock.”
Councillor and Mrs. Allcock were passed on to Jason and drinks.
“Oh, Mrs. Bantry, it is nice of you to come.”
“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” said Mrs. Bantry and moved
on purposefully towards the Martinis.
The young man called Hailey Preston ministered to her in a tender man-
ner and then made off, consulting a little list in his hand, to fetch, no
doubt, more of the Chosen to the Presence. It was all being managed very
well, Mrs. Bantry thought, turning, Martini in hand, to watch the next ar-
wildered. He said earnestly to Marina Gregg:
“Very nice of you to ask me. I’m afraid, you know, I haven’t got a televi-
sion set myself, but of course I—er—I—well, of course my young people
keep me up to the mark.”
Nobody knew what he meant. Miss Zielinsky, who was also on duty, ad-
were next up the stairs. Heather Badcock, flushed and triumphant17, came a
little ahead of her husband.
“Mr. and Mrs. Badcock,” boomed the man in livery.
“Mrs. Badcock,” said the vicar, turning back, lemonade in his hand, “the
indefatigable18 secretary of the association. She’s one of our hardest work-
ers. In fact I don’t know what the St. John would do without her.”
“I’m sure you’ve been wonderful,” said Marina.
“You don’t remember me?” said Heather, in an arch manner. “How
should you, with all the hundreds of people you meet. And anyway, it was
years ago. In Bermuda of all places in the world. I was there with one of
our ambulance units. Oh, it’s a long time ago now.”
“Of course,” said Marina Gregg, once more all charm and smiles.
“I remember it all so well,” said Mrs. Badcock. “I was thrilled, you know,
absolutely thrilled. I was only a girl at the time. To think there was a
chance of seeing Marina Gregg in the flesh—oh! I was a mad fan of yours
always.”
“It’s too kind of you, really too kind of you,” said Marina sweetly, her
arrivals.
“I’m not going to detain you,” said Heather—“but I must—”
“Poor Marina Gregg,” said Mrs. Bantry to herself. “I suppose this kind of
thing is always happening to her! The patience they need!”
Heather was continuing in a determined19 manner with her story.
Mrs. Allcock breathed heavily at Mrs. Bantry’s shoulder.
“The changes they’ve made here! You wouldn’t believe till you saw for
yourself. What it must have cost….”
“I—didn’t feel really ill—and I thought I just must—”
“This is vodka,” Mrs. Allcock regarded her glass suspiciously. “Mr. Rudd
asked if I’d like to try it. Sounds very Russian. I don’t think I like it very
much….”
—”
“I suppose it would be rude if I just put it down somewhere.” Mrs. All-
cock sounded desperate.
“Not at all. Vodka ought really to be thrown straight down the throat”—
Mrs. Allcock looked startled—“but that needs practice. Put it down on the
table and get yourself a Martini from that tray the butler’s carrying.”
She turned back to hear Heather Badcock’s triumphant peroration22.
“I’ve never forgotten how wonderful you were that day. It was a hun-
dred times worth it.”
Marina’s response was this time not so automatic. Her eyes which had
wall midway up the stairs. She was staring and there was something so
ghastly in her expression that Mrs. Bantry half took a step forward. Was
the woman going to faint? What on earth could she be seeing that gave
her that basilisk look? But before she could reach Marina’s side the latter
had recovered herself. Her eyes, vague and unfocussed, returned to
shade mechanically.
“What a nice little story. Now, what will you have to drink? Jason! A
“Well, really I usually have a lemonade or orange juice.”
“You must have something better than that,” said Marina. “This is a feast
day, remember.”
“Let me persuade you to an American daiquiri,” said Jason, appearing
with a couple in his hand. “They’re Marina’s favourites, too.”
He handed one to his wife.
“I shouldn’t drink anymore,” said Marina, “I’ve had three already.” But
she accepted the glass.
Heather took her drink from Jason. Marina turned away to meet the
next person who was arriving.
Mrs. Bantry said to Mrs. Allcock, “Let’s go and see the bathrooms.”
“Oh, do you think we can? Wouldn’t it look rather rude?”
want to explore your wonderful new bathrooms, Mr. Rudd. May we sat-
“Sure,” said Jason, grinning. “Go and enjoy yourselves, girls. Draw
yourselves baths if you like.”
Mrs. Allcock followed Mrs. Bantry along the passage.
“That was ever so kind of you, Mrs. Bantry. I must say I wouldn’t have
dared myself.”
“One has to dare if one wants to get anywhere,” said Mrs. Bantry.
They went along the passage, opening various doors. Presently “Ahs”
and “Ohs” began to escape Mrs. Allcock and two other women who had
joined the party.
“I do like the pink one,” said Mrs. Allcock. “Oh, I like the pink one a lot.”
“I like the one with the dolphin tiles,” said one of the other women.
moment she had really forgotten that the house no longer belonged to her.
showers. I never know how you keep your head dry.”
“It’d be nice to have a peep into the bedrooms,” said one of the other wo-
“Oh, I don’t think we could do that,” said Mrs. Allcock. They both looked
hopefully at Mrs. Bantry.
“Well,” said Mrs. Bantry, “no, I suppose we oughtn’t to—” then she took
pity on them, “but — I don’t think anyone would know if we have one
peep.” She put her hand on a door handle.
But that had been attended to. The bedrooms were locked. Everyone
was very disappointed.
“I suppose they’ve got to have some privacy,” said Mrs. Bantry kindly.
Mrs. Meavy, she noticed, was Miss Marple’s Cherry, whose last name for
the moment Mrs. Bantry could not remember. They seemed to be enjoying
themselves and were laughing and talking.
Suddenly the house felt to Mrs. Bantry old, worn-out and highly artifi-
cial. In spite of its new gleaming paint, its alterations35, it was in essence a
“Houses are like everything else. There comes a time when they’ve just
had their day. This has had its day. It’s been given a face-lift, but I don’t
really think it’s done it any good.”
Suddenly a slight rise in the hum of voices reached her. The two women
with her started forward.
“What’s happening?” said one. “It sounds as though something’s hap-
pening.”
They stepped back along the corridor towards the stairs. Ella Zielinksy
came rapidly along and passed them. She tried a bedroom door and said
quickly, “Oh, damn. Of course they’ve locked them all.”
“Is anything the matter?” asked Mrs. Bantry.
“Someone’s taken ill,” said Miss Zielinsky shortly.
“Oh dear, I’m sorry. Can I do anything?”
“I suppose there’s a doctor here somewhere?”
“I haven’t seen any of our local doctors,” said Mrs. Bantry, “but there’s
almost sure to be one here.”
“Jason’s telephoning,” said Ella Zielinsky, “but she seems pretty bad.”
“Who is it?” asked Mrs. Bantry.
“A Mrs. Badcock, I think.”
“Heather Badcock? But she looked so well just now.”
thing. Do you know if there’s anything wrong with her heart or anything
like that?”
“I don’t really know anything about her,” said Mrs. Bantry. “She’s new
since my day. She comes from the Development.”
“The Development? Oh, you mean that housing estate. I don’t even know
where her husband is or what he looks like.”
“Middle-aged, fair, unobtrusive,” said Mrs. Bantry. “He came with her so
he must be about somewhere.”
Ella Zielinsky went into a bathroom. “I don’t know really what to give
“Is she faint?” said Mrs. Bantry.
“It’s more than that,” said Ella Zielinsky.
“I’ll see if there’s anything I can do,” said Mrs. Bantry. She turned away
and walked rapidly back towards the head of the stairs. Turning a corner
“Have you seen Ella?” he said. “Ella Zielinsky?”
“She went along there into one of the bathrooms. She was looking for
something. Sal volatile—something like that.”
“She needn’t bother,” said Jason Rudd.
Something in his tone struck Mrs. Bantry. She looked up sharply. “Is it
bad?” she said, “really bad?”
“You could call it that,” said Jason Rudd. “The poor woman’s dead.”
“Dead!” Mrs. Bantry was really shocked. She said, as she had said be-
happen!”
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