Listerdale Mystery - Agatha Christie [15]
She understood now her husband’s uncontrollable anger. Doubtless he had paved the way by telling everyone he met that they were going to London the next day. Then George had come to work unexpectedly, had mentioned London to her, and she had contradicted the story. Too risky to do away with her that night, with old George repeating that conversation. But what an escape! If she had not happened to mention that trivial matter–Alix shuddered.
And then she stayed motionless as though frozen to stone. She had heard the creak of the gate into the road. Her husband had returned.
For a moment Alix stayed as though petrified, then she crept on tiptoe to the window, looking out from behind the shelter of the curtain.
Yes, it was her husband. He was smiling to himself and humming a little tune. In his hand he held an object which almost made the terrified girl’s heart stop beating. It was a brand-new spade.
Alix leaped to a knowledge born of instinct. It was to be tonight…
But there was still a chance. Gerald, humming his little tune, went round to the back of the house.
Without hesitating a moment, she ran down the stairs and out of the cottage. But just as she emerged from the door, her husband came round the other side of the house.
‘Hallo,’ he said, ‘where are you running off to in such a hurry?’
Alix strove desperately to appear calm and as usual. Her chance was gone for the moment, but if she was careful not to arouse his suspicions, it would come again later. Even now, perhaps…
‘I was going to walk to the end of the lane and back,’ she said in a voice that sounded weak and uncertain in her own ears.
‘Right,’ said Gerald. ‘I’ll come with you.’
‘No–please, Gerald. I’m–nervy, headachy–I’d rather go alone.’
He looked at her attentively. She fancied a momentary suspicion gleamed in his eye.
‘What’s the matter with you, Alix? You’re pale–trembling.’
‘Nothing.’ She forced herself to be brusque–smiling. ‘I’ve got a headache, that’s all. A walk will do me good.’
‘Well, it’s no good your saying you don’t want me,’ declared Gerald, with his easy laugh. ‘I’m coming, whether you want me or not.’
She dared not protest further. If he suspected that she knew…
With an effort she managed to regain something of her normal manner. Yet she had an uneasy feeling that he looked at her sideways every now and then, as though not quite satisfied. She felt that his suspicions were not completely allayed.
When they returned to the house he insisted on her lying down, and brought some eau-de-cologne to bathe her temples. He was, as ever, the devoted husband. Alix felt herself as helpless as though bound hand and foot in a trap.
Not for a minute would he leave her alone. He went with her into the kitchen and helped her to bring in the simple cold dishes she had already prepared. Supper was a meal that choked her, yet she forced herself to eat, and even to appear gay and natural. She knew now that she was fighting for her life. She was alone with this man, miles from help, absolutely at his mercy. Her only chance was so to lull his suspicions that he would leave her alone for a few moments–long enough for her to get to the telephone in the hall and summon assistance. That was her only hope now.
A momentary hope flashed over her as she remembered how he had abandoned his plan before. Suppose she told him that Dick Windyford was coming up to see them that evening?
The words trembled on her lips–then she rejected them hastily. This man would not be baulked a second time. There was a determination, an elation, underneath his calm bearing that sickened her. She would only precipitate the crime. He would murder her there and then, and calmly ring up Dick Windyford with a tale of having been suddenly called away. Oh! if only Dick Windyford were coming to the house this evening! If Dick…
A sudden idea flashed into her mind. She looked sharply sideways at her husband as though she feared that he might read her mind. With the forming of a