N or M_ - Agatha Christie [35]
Surely, even if Mrs Perenna did notice anything amiss she would be more likely to suspect one of the servants than she would ‘Mrs Blenkensop’. And if she did suspect the latter, wouldn’t it be a mere case of suspecting her of undue curiosity? There were people, Tuppence knew, who did poke and pry.
But then, if Mrs Perenna were the renowned German agent M., she would be suspicious of counter-espionage.
Had anything in her bearing revealed undue alertness?
She had seemed natural enough–only that one sharply pointed remark about the aspirin.
Suddenly, Tuppence sat up on her bed. She remembered that her aspirin, together with some iodine and a bottle of soda mints, were at the back of the writing-table drawer where she had shoved them when unpacking.
It would seem, therefore, that she was not the only person to snoop in other people’s rooms. Mrs Perenna had got there first.
Chapter 7
On the following day Mrs Sprot went up to London.
A few tentative remarks on her part had led immediately to various offers on the part of the inhabitants of Sans Souci to look after Betty.
When Mrs Sprot, with many final adjurations to Betty to be a very good girl, had departed, Betty attached herself to Tuppence, who had elected to take morning duty.
‘Play,’ said Betty. ‘Play hide seek.’
She was talking more easily every day and had adopted a most fetching habit of laying her head on one side, fixing her interlocutor with a bewitching smile and murmuring ‘Peese’.
Tuppence had intended taking her for a walk, but it was raining hard, so the two of them adjourned to the bedroom where Betty led the way to the bottom drawer of the bureau where her playthings were kept.
‘Hide Bonzo, shall we?’ asked Tuppence.
But Betty had changed her mind and demanded instead:
‘Wead me story.’
Tuppence pulled out a rather tattered book from one end of the cupboard–to be interrupted by a squeal from Betty.
‘No, no. Nasty…Bad…’
Tuppence stared at her in surprise and then down at the book, which was a coloured version of Little Jack Horner.
‘Was Jack a bad boy?’ she asked. ‘Because he pulled out a plum?’
Betty reiterated with emphasis:
‘B-a-ad!’ and with a terrific effort, ‘Dirrrty!’
She seized the book from Tuppence and replaced it in the line, then tugged out an identical book from the other end of the shelf, announcing with a beaming smile:
‘K-k-klean ni’tice Jackorner!’
Tuppence realised that the dirty and worn books had been replaced by new and cleaner editions and was rather amused. Mrs Sprot was very much what Tuppence thought of as ‘the hygienic mother’. Always terrified of germs, of impure food, or of the child sucking a soiled toy.
Tuppence, brought up in a free and easy rectory life, was always rather contemptuous of exaggerated hygiene and had brought up her own two children to absorb what she called a ‘reasonable amount’ of dirt. However, she obediently took out the clean copy of Jack Horner and read it to the child with the comments proper to the occasion. Betty murmuring ‘That’s Jack!–Plum!–In a Pie!’ pointing out these interesting objects with a sticky finger that bade fair to soon consign this second copy to the scrap heap. They proceeded to Goosey Goosey Gander and The Old Woman Who Lived in a Shoe, and then Betty hid the books and Tuppence took an amazingly long time to find each of them, to Betty’s great glee, and so the morning passed rapidly away.
After lunch Betty had her rest and it was then that Mrs O’Rourke invited Tuppence into her room.
Mrs O’Rourke’s room was very untidy and smelt strongly of peppermint, and stale cake with a faint odour of moth balls added. There were photographs on every table of Mrs O’Rourke’s children and grandchildren and nieces and nephews and great-nieces and great-nephews. There were so many of them that Tuppence felt as though she were looking at a realistically produced play of the late Victorian period.
‘’Tis a grand way you have with children, Mrs Blenkensop,