Listerdale Mystery - Agatha Christie [10]
The garden, which was magnificently stocked with flowers, was attended by an old man from the village who came twice a week.
As she rounded the corner of the house, Alix was surprised to see the old gardener in question busy over the flower-beds. She was surprised because his days for work were Mondays and Fridays, and today was Wednesday.
‘Why, George, what are you doing here?’ she asked, as she came towards him.
The old man straightened up with a chuckle, touching the brim of an aged cap.
‘I thought as how you’d be surprised, ma’am. But ’tis this way. There be a fête over to Squire’s on Friday, and I sez to myself, I sez, neither Mr Martin nor yet his good lady won’t take it amiss if I comes for once on a Wednesday instead of a Friday.’
‘That’s quite all right,’ said Alix. ‘I hope you’ll enjoy yourself at the fête.’
‘I reckon to,’ said George simply. ‘It’s a fine thing to be able to eat your fill and know all the time as it’s not you as is paying for it. Squire allus has a proper sit-down tea for ’is tenants. Then I thought too, ma’am, as I might as well see you before you goes away so as to learn your wishes for the borders. You have no idea when you’ll be back, ma’am, I suppose?’
‘But I’m not going away.’
George stared.
‘Bain’t you going to Lunnon tomorrow?’
‘No. What put such an idea into your head?’
George jerked his head over his shoulder.
‘Met Maister down to village yesterday. He told me you was both going away to Lunnon tomorrow, and it was uncertain when you’d be back again.’
‘Nonsense,’ said Alix, laughing. ‘You must have misunderstood him.’
All the same, she wondered exactly what it could have been that Gerald had said to lead the old man into such a curious mistake. Going to London? She never wanted to go to London again.
‘I hate London,’ she said suddenly and harshly.
‘Ah!’ said George placidly. ‘I must have been mistook somehow, and yet he said it plain enough, it seemed to me. I’m glad you’re stopping on here. I don’t hold with all this gallivanting about, and I don’t think nothing of Lunnon. I’ve never needed to go there. Too many moty cars–that’s the trouble nowadays. Once people have got a moty car, blessed if they can stay still anywheres. Mr Ames, wot used to have this house–nice peaceful sort of gentleman he was until he bought one of them things. Hadn’t had it a month before he put up this cottage for sale. A tidy lot he’d spent on it too, with taps in all the bedrooms, and the electric light and all. “You’ll never see your money back,” I sez to him. “But,” he sez to me, “I’ll get every penny of two thousand pounds for this house.” And, sure enough, he did.’
‘He got three thousand,’ said Alix, smiling.
‘Two thousand,’ repeated George. ‘The sum he was asking was talked of at the time.’
‘It really was three thousand,’ said Alix.
‘Ladies never understand figures,’ said George, unconvinced. ‘You’ll not tell me that Mr Ames had the face to stand up to you and say three thousand brazen-like in a loud voice?’
‘He didn’t say it to me,’ said Alix; ‘he said it to my husband.’
George stooped again to his flower-bed.
‘The price was two thousand,’ he said obstinately.
III
Alix did not trouble to argue with him. Moving to one of the farther beds, she began to pick an armful of flowers.
As she moved with her fragrant posy towards the house, Alix noticed a small dark-green object peeping from between some leaves in one of the beds. She stooped and picked it up, recognizing it for her husband’s pocket diary.
She opened it, scanning the entries with some amusement. Almost from the beginning of