Sad cypress - Agatha Christie [20]
She paused and then went on rather hurriedly:
‘I’m settling two thousand on Mary Gerrard. Do you think that’s what Aunt Laura would have wished? It seemed to me about the right sum.’
Roddy said without looking at her:
‘Yes, exactly right. You’ve always got excellent judgement, Elinor.’
He turned to look out of the window again.
Elinor held her breath for a minute, then she began to speak with nervous haste, the words tumbling out incoherently:
‘There’s something more: I want to – it’s only right – I mean, you’ve got to have your proper share, Roddy.’
As he wheeled round, anger on his face, she hurried on:
‘No, listen, Roddy. This is just bare justice! The money that was your uncle’s – that he left to his wife – naturally he always assumed it would come to you. Aunt Laura meant it to, too. I know she did, from lots of things she said. If I have her money, you should have the amount that was his – it’s only right. I – I can’t bear to feel I’ve robbed you – just because Aunt Laura funked making a will. You must – you must see sense about this!’
Roderick’s long, sensitive face had gone dead white.
He said:
‘My God, Elinor, do you want to make me feel an utter cad? Do you think for one moment I could – could take this money from you?’
‘I’m not giving it to you. It’s just – fair.’
Roddy cried out:
‘I don’t want your money!’
‘It isn’t mine!’
‘It’s yours by law – and that’s all that matters! For God’s sake, don’t let’s be anything but strictly businesslike! I won’t take a penny from you. You’re not going to do the Lady Bountiful to me!’
Elinor cried out:
‘Roddy!’
He made a quick gesture.
‘Oh, my dear, I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m saying. I feel so bewildered – so utterly lost…’
Elinor said gently:
‘Poor Roddy…’
He had turned away again and was playing with the blind tassel of the window. He said in a different tone, a detached one:
‘Do you know what – Mary Gerrard proposes doing?’
‘She’s going to train as a masseuse, so she says.’
He said, ‘I see.’
There was a silence. Elinor drew herself up; she flung back her head. Her voice when she spoke was suddenly compelling.
She said:
‘Roddy, I want you to listen to me carefully!’
He turned to her, slightly surprised.
‘Of course, Elinor.’
‘I want you, if you will, to follow my advice.’
‘And what is your advice?’
Elinor said calmly:
‘You are not particularly tied? You can always get a holiday, can’t you?’
‘Oh, yes.’
‘Then do – just that. Go abroad somewhere for – say, three months. Go by yourself. Make new friends and see new places. Let’s speak quite frankly. At this moment you think you’re in love with Mary Gerrard. Perhaps you are. But it isn’t a moment for approaching her – you know that only too well. Our engagement is definitely broken off. Go abroad, then, as a free man, and at the end of the three months, as a free man, make up your mind. You’ll know then whether you – really love Mary or whether it was only a temporary infatuation. And if you are quite sure you do love her – well, then, come back and go to her and tell her so, and that you’re quite sure about it, and perhaps then she’ll listen.’
Roddy came to her. He caught her hand in his.
‘Elinor, you’re wonderful! So clear-headed! So marvellously impersonal! There’s no trace of pettiness or meanness about you. I admire you more than I can ever say. I’ll do exactly what you suggest. Go away, cut free from everything – and find out whether I’ve got the genuine disease or if I’ve just been making the most ghastly fool of myself. Oh, Elinor, my dear, you don’t know how truly fond I am of you. I do realize you were always a thousand times too good for me. Bless you, dear, for all your goodness.’
Quickly, impulsively, he kissed her cheek and went out of the room.
It was as well, perhaps, that he did not look back and see her face.
IV
It was a couple