Destination Unknown - Agatha Christie [44]
A thin spectacled girl had joined them.
‘Miss Jennson, meet Mrs Betterton, Fräulein Needheim, Dr Barron, Mr Peters, Dr Ericsson. Show them into the Registry, will you? Give them a drink. I’ll be with you in a few minutes. Just taking Mrs Betterton along to her husband. I’ll be with you again shortly.’
He turned to Hilary again, saying:
‘Follow me, Mrs Betterton.’
He strode forward, she followed. At a bend in the passage, she gave a last look over her shoulder. Andy Peters was still watching her. He had a faintly puzzled, unhappy look–she thought for a moment he was going to come with her. He must have realized, she thought, that there’s something wrong, realized it from me, but he doesn’t know what it is.
And she thought, with a slight shiver: ‘It’s the last time, perhaps, that I’ll ever see him…’ And so, as she turned the corner after her guide, she raised a hand and waved a goodbye…
The big man was talking cheerfully.
‘This way, Mrs Betterton. I’m afraid you’ll find our buildings rather confusing at first, so many corridors, and all rather alike.’
Like a dream, Hilary thought, a dream of hygienic white corridors along which you pass for ever, turning, going on, never finding your way out…
She said:
‘I didn’t realize it would be a–hospital.’
‘No, no, of course. You couldn’t realize anything, could you?’
There was a faint sadistic note of amusement in his voice.
‘You’ve had, as they say, to “fly blind”. My name’s Van Heidem, by the way. Paul Van Heidem.’
‘It’s all a little strange–and rather terrifying,’ said Hilary. ‘The lepers…’
‘Yes, yes, of course. Picturesque–and usually so very unexpected. It does upset newcomers. But you’ll get used to them–oh yes, you’ll get used to them in time.’
He gave a slight chuckle.
‘A very good joke, I always think myself.’
He paused suddenly.
‘Up one flight of stairs–now don’t hurry. Take it easy. Nearly there now.’
Nearly there–nearly there…So many steps to death…Up–up–deep steps, deeper than European steps. And now another of the hygienic passages and Van Heidem was stopping by a door. He tapped, waited, and then opened it.
‘Ah, Betterton–here we are at last. Your wife!’
He stood aside with a slight flourish.
Hilary walked into the room. No holding back. No shrinking. Chin up. Forward to doom.
A man stood half-turned from the window, an almost startlingly good-looking man. She noted that, recognizing his fair handsomeness with a feeling almost of surprise. He wasn’t, somehow, her idea of Tom Betterton. Surely, the photograph of him that she had been shown wasn’t in the least–
It was that confused feeling of surprise that decided her. She would go all out for her first desperate expedient.
She made a quick movement forward, then drew back. Her voice rang out, startled, dismayed…
‘But–that isn’t Tom. That isn’t my husband…’ It was well done, she felt it herself. Dramatic, but not over dramatic. Her eyes met Van Heidem’s in bewildered questioning.
And then Tom Betterton laughed. A quiet, amused, almost triumphant laugh.
‘Pretty good, eh, Van Heidem?’ he said. ‘If even my own wife doesn’t know me!’
With four quick steps he had crossed to her and gathered her tightly into his arms.
‘Olive, darling. Of course you know me. I’m Tom all right even if I haven’t got quite the same face as I used to have.’
His face pressed against hers, his lips by her ear, she caught the faint whispered addition.
‘Play up. For God’s sake. Danger.’
He released her for a moment, caught her to him again.
‘Darling! It’s seemed years–years and years. But you’re here at last!’
She could feel the warning pressure of his fingers below her shoulderblades, admonishing her, giving their urgent message.
Only after a moment or two did he release her, push her a little from him and look into her face.
‘I still can’t quite believe it,’ he said, with an excited little laugh. ‘Still, you know it’s me now, don’t you?’
His eyes, burning into hers, still held that message of warning.
She didn’t understand it–couldn’t understand it. But it was a miracle from heaven and she rallied