They came to Baghdad - Agatha Christie [33]
‘I know his secretary slightly,’ said Victoria.
‘Oh yes, whatshisname Edward Thingummy – nice boy – too good for that long-haired racket – did well in the war, I hear. Still a job’s a job, I suppose. Nice-looking boy – those earnest young women are quite fluttered by him, I fancy.’
A pang of devastating jealousy pierced Victoria.
‘The Olive Branch,’ she said. ‘Where did you say it was?’
‘Up past the turning to the second bridge. One of the turnings off Rashid Street – tucked away rather. Not far from the Copper Bazaar.’
‘And how’s Mrs Pauncefoot Jones?’ continued Mrs Cardew Trench. ‘Coming out soon? I hear she’s been in poor health?’
But having got the information she wanted, Victoria was taking no more risks in invention. She glanced at her wrist-watch and uttered an exclamation.
‘Oh dear – I promised to wake Mrs Clipp at half-past six and help her to prepare for the journey. I must fly.’
The excuse was true enough, though Victoria had substituted half-past six for seven o’clock. She hurried upstairs quite exhilarated. Tomorrow she would get in touch with Edward at the Olive Branch. Earnest young women with unwashed necks, indeed! They sounded most unattractive…Still, Victoria reflected uneasily that men are less critical of dingy necks than middle-aged hygienic Englishwomen are – especially if the owners of the said necks were gazing with large eyes of admiration and adoration at the male subject in question.
The evening passed rapidly. Victoria had an early meal in the dining-room with Mrs Hamilton Clipp, the latter talking nineteen to the dozen on every subject under the sun. She urged Victoria to come and pay a visit later – and Victoria noted down the address carefully, because, after all, one never knew…She accompanied Mrs Clipp to Baghdad North Station, saw her safely ensconced in her compartment and was introduced to an acquaintance also travelling to Kirkuk who would assist Mrs Clipp with her toilet on the following morning.
The engine uttered loud melancholy screams like a soul in distress, Mrs Clipp thrust a thick envelope into Victoria’s hand, said: ‘Just a little remembrance, Miss Jones, of our very pleasant companionship which I hope you will accept with my most grateful thanks.’
Victoria said: ‘But it’s really too kind of you, Mrs Clipp,’ in a delighted voice, the engine gave a fourth and final supreme banshee wail of anguish and the train pulled slowly out of the station.
Victoria took a taxi from the station back to the hotel since she had not the faintest idea how to get back to it any other way and there did not seem any one about whom she could ask.
On her return to the Tio, she ran up to her room and eagerly opened the envelope. Inside were a couple of pairs of nylon stockings.
Victoria at any other moment would have been enchanted – nylon stockings having been usually beyond the reach of her purse. At the moment, however, hard cash was what she had been hoping for. Mrs Clipp, however had been far too delicate to think of giving her a five-dinar note. Victoria wished heartily that she had not been quite so delicate.
However, tomorrow there would be Edward. Victoria undressed, got into bed and in five minutes was fast asleep, dreaming that she was waiting at an aerodrome for Edward, but that he was held back from joining her by a spectacled girl who clasped him firmly round the neck while the aeroplane began slowly to move away…
Chapter 11
Victoria awoke to a morning of vivid sunshine. Having dressed, she went out on to the wide balcony outside her window. Sitting in a chair a little way along with his back to her was a man with curling grey hair growing down on to a muscular red brown neck. When the man turned his head sideways Victoria recognized, with a distinct feeling of surprise, Sir Rupert Crofton Lee. Why she should be so surprised she could hardly have said. Perhaps because she had assumed as a matter of course that a VIP such as Sir Rupert would have been staying at the Embassy and not at a hotel. Nevertheless there he was, staring