Don't Look Now by Maurier Daphne Du

Author:Maurier, Daphne Du [Maurier, Daphne Du]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Short Stories & Novellas, Collection.Single Author, Fiction.Horror, Fiction.Literature.Classic, Acclaimed.S K Recommends, Adapted into Film
ISBN: 9781590172889
Amazon: 1590172884
Publisher: NYRB Classics
Published: 2008-10-27T04:00:00+00:00

When Shelagh awoke the sun was streaming into the room. She glanced at her travelling-clock beside the bed. A quarter-past-nine. She had slept soundly for nearly ten hours. She got out of bed and went to the window, drawing the curtains aside. Her room appeared to be at the extreme end of the building. and immediately beyond her window a grass bank sloped towards the trees, and through the trees themselves a narrow clearing led down to the lake. The glimpse she could catch of the lake showed the water to be sparkling blue, the surface that had been so still last evening now turned to wavelets, whipped by a scudding breeze. Nick had told the steward she would ring down for her breakfast, and she picked up the telephone by the bed. Bob's voice came at once.

'Yes, miss. Orange-juice? Coffee? Rolls? Honey?'

'Please ...'

Service, she thought. I shouldn't be getting this at the Kilmore Arms. Bob brought the tray to her bedside within four minutes. The morning paper was also upon it, neatly folded.

'The Commander's compliments, miss,' he said. 'He hopes you slept well. If there is anything else you require you have only to tell me.'

I'd like to know if it was Mr Doherty at the Kilmore Arms or Mr O'Reilly from the post office who took the envelope from the tourist guide, she was thinking. Or could it be you, Malvolio? Nobody would have bothered about it if I hadn't scribbled on the envelope, 'N. Barry. Dates possibly significant.'

'I have everything I need, thank you, Bob,' she said.

When she had breakfasted, dressed herself in sweater and jeans, and made up her eyes with rather greater care than she had done the day before, she was ready to face whatever surprises Nick had in store for her. She walked down the corridor, passed through the swing-door and came to the living-room. The door was open, but he was not there. Somehow she had expected to see him at his desk. She went across to it, glancing furtively over her shoulder, and stared at the photograph once again. Nick was much better now than then, she thought. As a young man he must have been irritating, over-pleased with himself, and she had a feeling that his hair had been red. The whole truth was, she supposed, that they had both been in love with her mother, and when her father won this had helped to turn Nick sour. Started the chip. Odd that her mother had not mentioned the fact. She generally preened her feathers about old admirers. Disloyal, Shelagh knew, but what had both men seen in her except that very obvious pretty-pretty face? Far too much lipstick, like they wore in those days. And a bit of a snob, always name-dropping. She and her father used to wink at each other if she did it in front of other people.

A discreet cough warned her that the steward was watching her from the corridor beyond.

'The Commander is in one of the wood clearings, miss, if you were looking for him.

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