Parker Pyne Investigates - Agatha Christie [21]
‘Well, he is, isn’t he? So good-looking, and so frightfully good at games. And that pretended indifference of his to women. That spurs us on of course.’
‘I suppose you have lots of men friends,’ said Mrs Wade.
‘Oh, yes. I like men better than women. Women are never really nice to me. I can’t think why.’
‘Perhaps you are too nice to their husbands,’ said Mrs Massington with a tinkly laugh.
‘Well, one’s sorry for people sometimes. So many nice men are tied to such dull wives. You know, “arty” women and highbrow women. Naturally, the men want someone young and bright to talk to. I think that the modern ideas of marriage and divorce are so sensible. Start again while one is still young with someone who shares one’s tastes and ideas. It’s better for everybody in the end. I mean, the highbrow wives probably pick up some long-haired creature of their own type who satisfies them. I think cutting your losses and starting again is a wise plan, don’t you, Mrs Wade?’
‘Certainly.’
A certain frostiness in the atmosphere seemed to penetrate Madeleine’s consciousness. She murmured something about changing for tea and left them.
‘Detestable creatures these modern girls are,’ said Mrs Wade. ‘Not an idea in their heads.’
‘She’s got one idea in hers, Iris,’ said Mrs Massington. ‘That girl’s in love with Reggie.’
‘Nonsense!’
‘She is. I saw the way she looked at him just now. She doesn’t care a pin whether he’s married or not. She means to have him. Disgusting, I call it.’
Mrs Wade was silent a moment, then she laughed uncertainly. ‘After all,’ she said, ‘what does it matter?’
Presently Mrs Wade, too, went upstairs. Her husband was in his dressing-room changing. He was singing.
‘Enjoyed yourself, dear?’ said Mrs Wade.
‘Oh, er–rather, yes.’
‘I’m glad. I want you to be happy.’
‘Yes, rather.’
Acting a part was not Reggie Wade’s strong point, but as it happened, the acute embarrassment occasioned by his fancying he was doing so did just as well. He avoided his wife’s eye and jumped when she spoke to him. He felt ashamed; hated the farce of it all. Nothing could have produced a better effect. He was the picture of conscious guilt.
‘How long have you known her?’ asked Mrs Wade suddenly.
‘Er–who?’
‘Miss de Sara, of course.’
‘Well, I don’t quite know. I mean–oh, some time.’
‘Really? You never mentioned her.’
‘Didn’t I? I suppose I forgot.’
‘Forgot indeed!’ said Mrs Wade. She departed with a whisk of mauve draperies.
After tea Mr Wade showed Miss de Sara the rose garden. They walked across the lawn conscious of two pairs of eyes raking their backs.
‘Look here.’ Safe out of sight in the rose garden Mr Wade unburdened himself. ‘Look here, I think we’ll have to give this up. My wife looked at me just now as though she hated me.’
‘Don’t worry,’ said Madeleine. ‘It’s quite all right.’
‘Do you think so? I mean, I don’t want to put her against me. She said several nasty things at tea.’
‘It’s all right,’ said Madeleine. ‘You’re doing splendidly.’
‘Do you really think so?’
‘Yes.’ In a lower voice she went on: ‘Your wife is walking round the corner of the terrace. She wants to see what we’re doing. You’d better kiss me.’
‘Oh!’ said Mr Wade nervously. ‘Must I? I mean–’
‘Kiss me!’ said Madeleine fiercely.
Mr Wade kissed her. Any lack of élan in the performance was remedied by Madeleine. She flung her arms around him. Mr Wade staggered.
‘Oh!’ he said.
‘Did you hate it very much?’ said Madeleine.
‘No, of course not,’ said Mr Wade gallantly. ‘It–it just took me by surprise.’ He added wistfully: ‘Have we been in the rose garden long enough, do you think?’
‘I think so,’ said Madeleine. ‘We’ve put in a bit of good work here.’
They returned to the lawn. Mrs Massington informed them that Mrs Wade had gone to lie down.
Later, Mr Wade joined Madeleine with a perturbed face.
‘She’s in an awful state–hysterics.’
‘Good.’
‘She saw me kissing you.’
‘Well, we meant her to.’
‘I know, but I couldn’t say that, could I? I didn’t know what to say. I said it had just–just–well, happened.’
‘Excellent.’
‘She said you were scheming