And Then There Were None - Agatha Christie [47]
Emily came to herself with a start. That girl was looking at her very strangely. She said in a brisk voice:
“Everything’s ready, isn’t it? We’ll take the breakfast in.”
VI
Breakfast was a curious meal. Every one was very polite.
“May I get you some more coffee, Miss Brent?”
“Miss Claythorne, a slice of ham?”
“Another piece of toast?”
Six people, all outwardly self-possessed and normal.
And within? Thoughts that ran round in a circle like squirrels in a cage….
“What next? What next? Who? Which?”
“Would it work? I wonder. It’s worth trying. If there’s time. My God, if there’s time….”
“Religious mania, that’s the ticket … Looking at her, though, you can hardly believe it … Suppose I’m wrong….”
“It’s crazy—everything’s crazy. I’m going crazy. Wool disappearing—red silk curtains—it doesn’t make sense. I can’t get the hang of it….”
“The damned fool, he believed every word I said to him. It was easy … I must be careful, though, very careful.”
“Six of those little china figures … only six—how many will there be by tonight? …”
“Who’ll have the last egg?”
“Marmalade?”
“Thanks, can I cut you some bread?”
Six people, behaving normally at breakfast….
Twelve
I
The meal was over.
Mr. Justice Wargrave cleared his throat. He said in a small authoritative voice:
“It would be advisable, I think, if we met to discuss the situation. Shall we say in half an hour’s time in the drawing room?”
Every one made a sound suggestive of agreement.
Vera began to pile plates together.
She said:
“I’ll clear away and wash up.”
Philip Lombard said:
“We’ll bring the stuff out to the pantry for you.”
“Thanks.”
Emily Brent, rising to her feet sat down again. She said:
“Oh dear.”
The judge said:
“Anything the matter, Miss Brent?”
Emily said apologetically:
“I’m sorry. I’d like to help Miss Claythorne, but I don’t know how it is. I feel just a little giddy.”
“Giddy, eh?” Dr. Armstrong came towards her. “Quite natural. Delayed shock. I can give you something to—”
“No!”
The word burst from her lips like an exploding shell.
It took every one aback. Dr. Armstrong flushed a deep red.
There was no mistaking the fear and suspicion in her face. He said stiffly:
“Just as you please, Miss Brent.”
She said:
“I don’t wish to take anything—anything at all. I will just sit here quietly till the giddiness passes off.”
They finished clearing away the breakfast things.
Blore said:
“I’m a domestic sort of man. I’ll give you a hand, Miss Claythorne.”
Vera said: “Thank you.”
Emily Brent was left alone sitting in the dining room.
For a while she heard a faint murmur of voices from the pantry.
The giddiness was passing. She felt drowsy now, as though she could easily go to sleep.
There was a buzzing in her ears—or was it a real buzzing in the room?
She thought:
“It’s like a bee—a bumble bee.”
Presently she saw the bee. It was crawling up the windowpane.
Vera Claythorne had talked about bees this morning.
Bees and honey….
She liked honey. Honey in the comb, and strain it yourself through a muslin bag. Drip, drip, drip….
There was somebody in the room … somebody all wet and dripping …Beatrice Taylor come from the river.…
She had only to turn her head and she would see her.
But she couldn’t turn her head….
If she were to call out….
But she couldn’t call out….
There was no one else in the house. She was all alone….
She heard footsteps—soft dragging footsteps coming up behind her. The stumbling footsteps of