Miss Marple's final cases - Agatha Christie [24]
The old woman blinked at her. She had a cunning, dark gypsy face, with wisps of iron-grey hair, and bleared, suspicious eyes. Louise wondered if she drank.
She spoke in a whining and yet threatening voice. ‘What do I want, you ask? What, indeed! That which has been took away from me. Who turned me out of Kingsdean House? I’d lived there, girl and woman, for near on forty years. It was a black deed to turn me out and it’s black bad luck it’ll bring to you and him!’
Louise said, ‘You’ve got a very nice cottage and—’
She broke off. The old woman’s arms flew up. She screamed, ‘What’s the good of that to me? It’s my own place I want and my own fire as I sat beside all them years. And as for you and him, I’m telling you there will be no happiness for you in your new fine house. It’s the black sorrow will be upon you! Sorrow and death and my curse. May your fair face rot.’
Louise turned away and broke into a little stumbling run. She thought, I must get away from here! We must sell the house! We must go away.
At the moment, such a solution seemed easy to her. But Harry’s utter incomprehension took her back. He exclaimed, ‘Leave here? Sell the house? Because of a crazy old woman’s threats? You must be mad.’
‘No, I’m not. But she—she frightens me, I know something will happen.’
Harry Laxton said grimly, ‘Leave Mrs Murgatroyd to me. I’ll settle her!’
V
A friendship had sprung up between Clarice Vane and young Mrs Laxton. The two girls were much of an age, though dissimilar both in character and in tastes. In Clarice’s company, Louise found reassurance. Clarice was so self-reliant, so sure of herself. Louise mentioned the matter of Mrs Murgatroyd and her threats, but Clarice seemed to regard the matter as more annoying than frightening.
‘It’s so stupid, that sort of thing,’ she said. ‘And really very annoying for you.’
‘You know, Clarice, I—I feel quite frightened sometimes. My heart gives the most awful jumps.’
‘Nonsense, you mustn’t let a silly thing like that get you down. She’ll soon tire of it.’
She was silent for a minute or two. Clarice said, ‘What’s the matter?’
Louise paused for a minute, then her answer came with a rush. ‘I hate this place! I hate being here. The woods and this house, and the awful silence at night, and the queer noise owls make. Oh, and the people and everything.’
‘The people. What people?’
‘The people in the village. Those prying, gossiping old maids.’
Clarice said sharply, ‘What have they been saying?’
‘I don’t know. Nothing particular. But they’ve got nasty minds. When you’ve talked to them you feel you wouldn’t trust anybody—not anybody at all.’
Clarice said harshly, ‘Forget them. They’ve nothing to do but gossip. And most of the muck they talk they just invent.’
Louise said, ‘I wish we’d never come here. But Harry adores it so.’ Her voice softened.
Clarice thought, How she adores him. She said abruptly, ‘I must go now.’
‘I’ll send you back in the car. Come again soon.’
Clarice nodded. Louise felt comforted by her new friend’s visit. Harry was pleased to find her more cheerful and from then on urged her to have Clarice often to the house.
Then one day he said, ‘Good news for you, darling.’
‘Oh, what?’
‘I’ve fixed the Murgatroyd. She’s got a son in America, you know. Well, I’ve arranged for her to go out and join him. I’ll pay her passage.’
‘Oh, Harry, how wonderful. I believe I might get to like Kingsdean after all.’
‘Get to like it? Why, it’s the most wonderful place in the world!’
Louise gave a little shiver. She could not rid herself of her superstitious fear so easily.
VI
If the ladies of St Mary Mead had hoped for the pleasure of imparting information about her husband’s past to the bride, this pleasure was denied them by Harry Laxton’s own prompt action.
Miss Harmon and Clarice Vane were both in Mr Edge’s shop, the one buying mothballs