Elephants Can Remember - Agatha Christie [27]
‘Of course Ariadne has got to have tea.’
The two ladies leant back. The second and third figures of the Lancers. Old friends. Other people’s children. The death of friends.
‘It must be years since I saw you last,’ said Mrs Carstairs.
‘I think it was at the Llewellyns’ wedding,’ said Mrs Oliver. ‘Yes, that must have been about it. How terrible Moira looked as a bridesmaid. That dreadfully unbecoming shade of apricot they wore.’
‘I know. It didn’t suit them.’
‘I don’t think weddings are nearly as pretty as they used to be in our day. Some of them seem to wear such very peculiar clothes. The other day one of my friends went to a wedding and she said the bridegroom was dressed in some sort of quilted white satin and ruffles at his neck. Made of Valenciennes lace, I believe. Most peculiar. And the girl was wearing a very peculiar trouser suit. Also white but it was stamped with green shamrocks all over.’
‘Well, my dear Ariadne, can you imagine it. Really, extraordinary. In church too. If I’d been a clergyman I’d have refused to marry them.’
Tea came. Talk continued.
‘I saw my goddaughter, Celia Ravenscroft, the other day,’ said Mrs Oliver. ‘Do you remember the Ravenscrofts? Of course, it’s a great many years ago.’
‘The Ravenscrofts? Now wait a minute. That was that very sad tragedy, wasn’t it? A double suicide, didn’t they think it was? Near their house at Overcliffe.’
‘You’ve got such a wonderful memory, Julia,’ said Mrs Oliver.
‘Always had. Though I have difficulties with names sometimes. Yes, it was very tragic, wasn’t it.’
‘Very tragic indeed.’
‘One of my cousins knew them very well in Malaya, Roddy Foster, you know. General Ravenscroft had had a most distinguished career. Of course he was a bit deaf by the time he retired. He didn’t always hear what one said very well.’
‘Do you remember them quite well?’
‘Oh yes. One doesn’t really forget people, does one? I mean, they lived at Overcliffe for quite five or six years.’
‘I’ve forgotten her Christian name now,’ said Mrs Oliver.
‘Margaret, I think. But everyone called her Molly. Yes, Margaret. So many people were called Margaret, weren’t they, at about that time? She used to wear a wig, do you remember?’
‘Oh yes,’ said Mrs Oliver. ‘At least I can’t quite remember, but I think I do.’
‘I’m not sure she didn’t try to persuade me to get one. She said it was so useful when you went abroad and travelled. She had four different wigs. One for evening and one for travelling and one – very strange, you know. You could put a hat on over it and not really disarrange it.’
‘I didn’t know them as well as you did,’ said Mrs Oliver. ‘And of course at the time of the shooting I was in America on a lecture tour. So I never really heard any details.’
‘Well, of course, it was a great mystery,’ said Julia Carstairs. ‘I mean to say, one didn’t know. There were so many different stories going about.’
‘What did they say at the inquest – I suppose they had an inquest?’
‘Oh yes, of course. The police had to investigate it. It was one of those indecisive things, you know, in that the death was due to revolver shots. They couldn’t say definitely what had occurred. It seemed possible that General Ravenscroft had shot his wife and then himself, but apparently it was just as probable that Lady Ravenscroft had shot her husband and then herself. It seemed more likely, I think, that it was a suicide pact, but it couldn’t be said definitely how it came about.’
‘There seemed to be no question of its being a crime?’
‘No, no. It was said quite clearly there was no suggestion of foul play. I mean there were no footprints or any signs of anyone coming near them. They left the house to go for a walk after tea, as they so often did. They didn’t come back again for dinner and the manservant or somebody or the gardener – whoever it was – went out to look for them, and found them both dead. The revolver was lying by the bodies.’
‘The revolver belonged to him, didn