Curtain - Agatha Christie [50]
‘Shakespeare,’ said Boyd Carrington.
‘Was it Othello or Emilia?’ said Mrs Franklin.
‘All too long. The clue is only four letters.’
‘Iago.’
‘I’m sure it was Othello.’
‘It wasn’t in Othello at all. Romeo said it to Juliet.’
We all voiced our opinions. Suddenly from the balcony Judith cried out: ‘Look, a shooting star. Oh, there’s another.’
Boyd Carrington said: ‘Where? We must wish.’ He went out on the balcony, joining Elizabeth Cole, Norton and Judith. Nurse Craven went out too. Franklin got up and joined them. They stood there, exclaiming, gazing out into the night.
I remained with my head bent over the crossword. Why should I wish to see a falling star? I had nothing to wish for . . .
Suddenly Boyd Carrington wheeled back into the room.
‘Barbara, you must come out.’
Mrs Franklin said sharply: ‘No, I can’t. I’m too tired.’
‘Nonsense, Babs. You must come and wish!’ He laughed. ‘Now don’t protest. I’ll carry you.’
And suddenly stooping he picked her up in his arms. She laughed and protested: ‘Bill, put me down – don’t be so silly.’
‘Little girls have got to come out and wish.’ He carried her through the window and set her down on the balcony.
I bent closer over the paper. For I was remembering . . . A clear tropical night, frogs croaking . . . and a shooting star. I was standing there by the window, and I had turned and picked up Cinders and carried her out in my arms to see the stars and wish . . .
The lines of my crossword ran and blurred before my eyes.
A figure detached itself from the balcony and came into the room – Judith.
Judith must never catch me with tears in my eyes. It would never do. Hastily I swung round the bookcase and pretended to be looking for a book. I remembered having seen an old edition of Shakespeare there. Yes, here it was. I looked through Othello.
‘What are you doing, Father?’
I mumbled something about the clue, my fingers turning over the pages. Yes, it was Iago.
‘O beware, my lord, of jealousy;
It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock
The meat it feeds on.’
Judith went on with some other lines:
‘Not poppy, nor mandragora, nor all the drowsy syrups of the world
Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep which thou ow’dst yesterday.’
Her voice rang out, beautiful and deep.
The others were coming back, laughing and talking. Mrs Franklin resumed her place on the chaise-longue, Franklin came back to his seat and stirred his coffee. Norton and Elizabeth Cole finished drinking theirs and excused themselves as they had promised to play bridge with the Luttrells.
Mrs Franklin drank her coffee and then demanded her ‘drops’. Judith got them for her from the bathroom as Nurse Craven had just gone out.
Franklin was wandering aimlessly round the room. He stumbled over a small table. His wife said sharply:
‘Don’t be so clumsy, John.’
‘Sorry, Barbara. I was thinking of something.’
Mrs Franklin said rather affectedly: ‘Such a great bear, aren’t you, darling?’
He looked at her rather abstractedly. Then he said: ‘Nice night, think I’ll take a stroll.’
He went out.
Mrs Franklin said: ‘He is a genius, you know. You can tell it from his manner. I really do admire him terrifically. Such a passion for his work.’
‘Yes, yes, clever fellow,’ said Boyd Carrington rather perfunctorily.
Judith left the room abruptly, nearly colliding with Nurse Craven in the doorway.
Boyd Carrington said: ‘What about a game of picquet, Babs?’
‘Oh, lovely. Can you get hold of some cards, Nurse?’
Nurse Craven went to get cards, and I wished Mrs Franklin good night and thanked her for the coffee.
Outside I overtook Franklin and Judith. They were standing looking out of the passage window. They were not speaking, just standing side by side.
Franklin looked over his shoulder as I approached. He moved a step or two, hesitated and said: ‘Coming out for a stroll, Judith?’
My daughter shook her head. ‘Not tonight.’ She added abruptly: ‘I’m going to bed. Good night.’
I went downstairs with Franklin. He was whistling softly to himself and smiling.
I remarked rather crossly, for