Elephants Can Remember - Christie Agatha - Страница 16
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"Why," she said, "it's Miss Ariadne. Well, I never now! It's Miss Ariadne." "I think you're wonderful to know me," said Mrs. Oliver.
"How are you, Mrs. Matcham?" "Miss Ariadne! Just think of that now." It was, Mrs. Ariadne Oliver thought, a long time ago since she had been addressed as Miss Ariadne, but the intonation of the voice, cracked with age though it was, rang a familiar note.
"Come in, m'dear," said the old dame; "come in now.
You're lookin' well, you are. I dunno how many years it is since I've seen you. Fifteen at least." It was a good deal more than fifteen, but Mrs. Oliver made no corrections. She came in. Mrs. Matcham was shaking hands, her hands were rather unwilling to obey their owner's orders.
She managed to shut the door and, shuffling her feet and limping, entered a small room which was obviously one that was kept for the reception of any likely or unlikely visitors whom Mrs. Matcham was prepared to admit to her home.
There were large numbers of photographs-some of babies, some of adults. Some in nice leather frames which were slowly drooping but had not quite fallen to pieces yet. One in a silver frame by now rather tarnished, representing a young woman in presentation court dress with feathers rising up on her head. Two naval officers, two military gentlemen, some photographs of naked babies sprawling on rugs. There was a sofa and two chairs. As bidden, Mrs. Oliver sat in a chair.
Mrs. Matcham pressed herself down on the sofa and pulled a cushion into the hollow of her back with some difficulty.
"Well, my dear, fancy seeing you. And you're still writing your pretty stories, are you?" "Yes," said Mrs. Oliver, assenting to this though with a slight doubt as to how far detective stories and stories of crime and general criminal behavior could be called pretty stories. But that, she thought, was very much a habit of Mrs.
Matcham's.
"I'm all alone now," said Mrs. Matcham. "You remember Gracie, my sister? She died last autumn, she did. Cancer it was. They operated, but it was too late." "Oh, dear, I'm so sorry," said Mrs. Oliver.
Conversation proceeded for the next ten minutes on the subject of the demise, one by one, of Mrs. Matcham's last remaining relatives.
"And you're all right, are you? Doing all right? Got a husband now? Oh, now, I remember, he's dead years ago, isn't he? And what brings you here to Little Saltern Minor?" "I just happened to be in the neighborhood," said Mrs.
Oliver, "and as I've got your address in my little address book with me, I thought I'd just drop in and-well, see how you were and everything." "Ah! And talk about old times, perhaps. Always nice when \ you can do that, isn't it?" "Yes, indeed," said Mrs. Oliver, feeling some relief that this particular line had been indicated to her since it was more or less what she had come for. "What a lot of photographs you've got," she said.
"Ah, I have, an' that. D'you know, when I was in that home-silly name it had, Sunset House of Happiness for the Aged, something like that it was called, a year and a quarter I lived there till I couldn't stand it no more, a nasty lot they were, saying you couldn't have any of your own things with you. You know, everything had to belong to the home. I don't say as it wasn't comfortable, but you know, I like me own things around me. My photos and my furniture. And then there was ever so nice a lady, came from a Council, she did, some society or other, and she told me there was another place where they had homes of their own or something and you could take what you liked with you. And there's ever such a nice helper as comes in every day to see if you're all right. Ah, very comfortable I am here. Very comfortable indeed.
I've got all my own things." "Something from everywhere," said Mrs. Oliver, looking round.
"Yes, that table-the brass one-that's Captain Wilson, he sent me that from Singapore or something like that. And that Benares brass, too. That's nice, isn't it? That's a funny thing on the ash tray. That's Egyptian, that is. It's a scarabee, or some name like that. You know. Sounds like some kind of scratching disease, but it isn't. No, it's a sort of beetle and it's made out of some stone. They call it a precious stone. Bright blue. A lazy-a lavis-a lazy lapin or something like that." "Lapis lazuli," said Mrs. Oliver.
"That's right. That's what it is. Very nice, that is. That was my archaeological boy what went digging. He sent me that." "All your lovely past," said Mrs. Oliver.
"Yes, all my boys and girls. Some of them as babies, some of them I had from the month, and the older ones. Some of them when I went to India and that other time when I was in Siam.
Yes. That's Miss Moya in her court dress. Ah, she was a pretty thing. Divorced two husbands, she has. Yes. Trouble with his lordship, the first one, and then she married one of those pop singers and of course that couldn't take very well.
And then she married someone in California. They've got a yacht and go about places, I think. Died two or three years ago and only sixty-two. Pity dying so young, you know," "You've been to a lot of different parts of the world yourself, haven't you?" said Mrs. Oliver. "India, Hong Kong, then Egypt, and South America, wasn't it?" "Ah, yes, I've been about a good deal." "I remember," said Mrs. Oliver, "when I was in India, you were with a service family then, weren't you? A General somebody. Was it-now wait a minute, I can't remember the name-it wasn't General and Lady Ravenscroft, was it?" "No, no, you've got the name wrong. You're thinking of when I was with the Barnabys. That's right. You came to stay with them. Remember? You were doing a tour, you were, and you came and stayed with the Barnabys. You were an old friend of hers. He was a judge." "Ah, yes," said Mrs. Oliver. "It's difficult a bit. One gets names mixed up." "Two nice children they had," said Mrs. Matcham. "Of course they went to school in England. The boy went to Harrow and the girl went to Roedean, I think it was, and so I moved on to another family after that. Ah, things have changed nowadays. Not so many ayahs, even, as there used to be.
Mind you, the ayahs used to be a bit of a trouble now and then. I got on with our one very well when I was with the Barnabys, I mean. Who was it you spoke of? The Ravenscrofts?
Well, I remember them. Yes-I forget the name of the place where they lived now. Not far from us. The families were acquainted, you know. Oh, yes, it's a long time ago, but I remember it all. I was still out there with the Barnabys, you know. I stayed on when the children went to school to look after Mrs. Barnaby. Look after her things, you know, and mend them and all that. Oh, yes, I was there when that awful thing happened. I don't mean the Barnabys. I mean to the Ravenscrofts. Yes, I shall never forget that. Hearing about it, I mean. Naturally I wasn't mixed up in it myself, but it was a terrible thing to happen, wasn't it?" "I should think it must have been," said Mrs. Oliver.
"It was after you'd gone back to England, a good long time after that, I think. A nice couple they were. Very nice couple and it was a shock to them." "I don't really remember now," said Mrs. Oliver.
"I know. One forgets things. I don't myself. But they said she'd always been queer, you know. Ever since the time she was a child. Some early story there was. She took a baby out of the pram and threw it in the river. Jealousy, they said.
Other people said she wanted the baby to go to heaven and not wait." "Is it-is it Lady Ravenscroft, you mean?" "No, of course I don't. Ah, you don't remember as well as I do. It was the sister." "Her sister?" "I'm not sure now whether it was her sister or his sister.
They said she'd been in a kind of mental place for a long time, you know. Ever since she was about eleven or twelve years old. They kept her there and then they said she was all right again and she came out. And she married someone in the Army. And then there was trouble. And the next thing they heard, I believe, was that she'd been put back again in one of them loony-bin places. They treat you very well, you know. They have a suite, nice rooms and all that. And they used to go and see her, I believe. I mean the General did or his wife. The children were brought up by someone else, I think, because they were afraid-like. However, they said she was all right in the end. So she came back to live with her husband, and then he died or something. Blood pressure I think it was, or heart. Anyway, she was very upset and she came out to stay with her brother or her sister-whichever it was-she seemed quite happy there and everything, and ever so fond of children, she was. It wasn't the little boy, I think.
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