The Hollow - Agatha Christie [26]
‘It’s interesting,’ thought Henrietta, one portion of whose mind was always detached, ‘to see exactly what a female Christian martyr’s face looked like before she went into the arena.’
As they left the walled kitchen garden, they heard shots, and Henrietta remarked: ‘Sounds as though the massacre of the Angkatells has begun!’
It turned out to be Sir Henry and Edward discussing firearms and illustrating their discussion by firing revolvers. Henry Angkatell’s hobby was firearms and he had quite a collection of them.
He had brought out several revolvers and some target cards, and he and Edward were firing at them.
‘Hallo, Henrietta, want to try if you could kill a burglar?’
Henrietta took the revolver from him.
‘That’s right–yes, so, aim like this.’
Bang!
‘Missed him,’ said Sir Henry.
‘You try, Gerda.’
‘Oh, I don’t think I–’
‘Come on, Mrs Christow. It’s quite simple.’
Gerda fired the revolver, flinching, and shutting her eyes. The bullet went even wider than Henrietta’s had done.
‘Oh, I want to do it,’ said Midge, strolling up.
‘It’s more difficult than you’d think,’ she remarked after a couple of shots. ‘But it’s rather fun.’
Lucy came out from the house. Behind her came a tall, sulky young man with an Adam’s apple.
‘Here’s David,’ she announced.
She took the revolver from Midge, as her husband greeted David Angkatell, reloaded it, and without a word put three holes close to the centre of the target.
‘Well done, Lucy,’ exclaimed Midge. ‘I didn’t know shooting was one of your accomplishments.’
‘Lucy,’ said Sir Henry gravely, ‘always kills her man!’
Then he added reminiscently, ‘Came in useful once. Do you remember, my dear, those thugs that set upon us that day on the Asian side of the Bosphorus? I was rolling about with two of them on top of me feeling for my throat.’
‘And what did Lucy do?’ asked Midge.
‘Fired two shots in the mêlée. I didn’t even know she had the pistol with her. Got one bad man through the leg and the other in the shoulder. Nearest escape in the world I’ve ever had. I can’t think how she didn’t hit me.’
Lady Angkatell smiled at him.
‘I think one always has to take some risk,’ she said gently. ‘And one should do it quickly and not think too much about it.’
‘An admirable sentiment, my dear,’ said Sir Henry. ‘But I have always felt slightly aggrieved that I was the risk you took!’
Chapter 8
I
After tea John said to Henrietta, ‘Come for a walk,’ and Lady Angkatell said that she must show Gerda the rock garden though of course it was quite the wrong time of year.
Walking with John, thought Henrietta, was as unlike walking with Edward as anything could be.
With Edward one seldom did more than potter. Edward, she thought, was a born potterer. Walking with John, it was all she could do to keep up, and by the time they got up to Shovel Down she said breathlessly: ‘It’s not a marathon, John!’
He slowed down and laughed.
‘Am I walking you off your feet?’
‘I can do it–but is there any need? We haven’t got a train to catch. Why do you have this ferocious energy? Are you running away from yourself ?’
He stopped dead. ‘Why do you say that?’
Henrietta looked at him curiously.
‘I didn’t mean anything particular by it.’
John went on again, but walking more slowly.
‘As a matter of fact,’ he said, ‘I’m tired. I’m very tired.’
She heard the lassitude in his voice.
‘How’s the Crabtree?’
‘It’s early days to say, but I think, Henrietta, that I’ve got the hang of things. If I’m right’–his footsteps began to quicken–‘a lot of our ideas will be revolutionized–we’ll have to reconsider the whole question of hormone secretion–’
‘You mean that there will be a cure for Ridgeway’s Disease? That people won’t die?’
‘That, incidentally.’
What odd people doctors were, thought Henrietta. Incidentally!
‘Scientifically, it opens up all sorts of possibilities!’
He drew a deep breath. ‘But it’s good to get down here–good to get some air into your lungs–good to see you.’ He gave her one of his sudden quick smiles. ‘And it will do Gerda good.’
‘Gerda, of course, simply loves coming