The Complete Tommy & Tuppence Collection by Agatha Christie

Author:Agatha Christie
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2013-10-23T16:00:00+00:00

II

Now that the weather had cleared, Miss Minton was dressing Betty preparatory to taking her out for a walk. They were going down to the town to buy a celluloid duck to sail in Betty’s bath.

Betty was very excited and capered so violently that it was extremely difficult to insert her arms into her woolly pullover. The two set off together, Betty chattering violently: “Byaduck. Byaduck. For Bettibarf. For Bettibarf,” and deriving great pleasure from a ceaseless reiteration of these important facts.

Two matches, left carelessly crossed on the marble table in the hall, informed Tuppence that Mr. Meadowes was spending the afternoon on the trail of Mrs. Perenna. Tuppence betook herself to the drawing-room and the company of Mr. and Mrs. Cayley.

Mr. Cayley was in a fretful mood. He had come to Leahampton, he explained, for absolute rest and quiet, and what quiet could there be with a child in the house? All day long it went on, screaming and running about, jumping up and down on the floors—

His wife murmured pacifically that Betty was really a dear little mite, but the remark met with no favour.

“No doubt, no doubt,” said Mr. Cayley, wriggling his long neck. “But her mother should keep her quiet. There are other people to consider. Invalids, people whose nerves need repose.”

Tuppence said: “It’s not easy to keep a child of that age quiet. It’s not natural—there would be something wrong with the child if she was quiet.”

Mr. Cayley gobbled angrily.

“Nonsense—nonsense—this foolish modern spirit. Letting children do exactly as they please. A child should be made to sit down quietly and—and nurse a doll—or read, or something.”

“She’s not three yet,” said Tuppence, smiling. “You can hardly expect her to be able to read.”

“Well, something must be done about it. I shall speak to Mrs. Perenna. The child was singing, singing in her bed before seven o’clock this morning. I had had a bad night and just dropped off towards morning—and it woke me right up.”

“It’s very important that Mr. Cayley should get as much sleep as possible,” said Mrs. Cayley anxiously. “The doctor said so.”

“You should go to a nursing home,” said Tuppence.

“My dear lady, such places are ruinously expensive and besides it’s not the right atmosphere. There is a suggestion of illness that reacts unfavourably on my subconscious.”

“Bright society, the doctor said,” Mrs. Cayley explained helpfully. “A normal life. He thought a guesthouse would be better than just taking a furnished house. Mr. Cayley would not be so likely to brood, and would be stimulated by exchanging ideas with other people.”

Mr. Cayley’s method of exchanging ideas was, so far as Tuppence could judge, a mere recital of his own ailments and symptoms and the exchange consisted in the sympathetic or unsympathetic reception of them.

Adroitly, Tuppence changed the subject.

“I wish you would tell me,” she said, “of your own views on life in Germany. You told me you had travelled there a good deal in recent years. It would be interesting to have the point of view of an experienced man of the world like yourself.

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