Third girl - Agatha Christie [38]
‘It’s — it’s very strong,’ she gasped.
‘It’ll put you right. You’ll feel better in a minute. Just sit still and wait.’
The sickness and the giddiness which had been confusing her passed off. A little colour came into her cheeks, and the shivering diminished. For the first time she looked round her, noting her surroundings. She had been obsessed by a feeling of fear and horror but now things seemed to be returning to normal. It was a medium-sized room and it was furnished in a way that seemed faintly familiar. A desk, a couch, an armchair and an ordinary chair, a stethoscope on a side table and some machine that she thought had to do with eyes. Then her attention went from the general to the particular. The man who had told her to drink.
She saw a man of perhaps thirty-odd with red hair and a rather attractive ugly face, the kind of face that is craggy but interesting. He nodded at her in a reassuring fashion.
‘Beginning to get your bearings?’
‘I — I think so. I — did you — what happened?’
‘Don’t you remember?’
‘The traffic. I — it came at me — it —’ She looked at him. ‘I was run over.’
‘Oh no, you weren’t run over.’ He shook his head. ‘I saw to that.’
‘You?’
‘Well, there you were in the middle of the road, a car bearing down on you and I just managed to snatch you out of its way. What were you thinking of to go running into the traffic like that?’
‘I can’t remember. I — yes, I suppose I must have been thinking of something else.’
‘A Jaguar was coming pretty fast, and there was a bus bearing down on the other side of the road. The car wasn’t trying to run you down or anything like that, was it?’
‘I — no, no, I’m sure it wasn’t. I mean I —’
‘Well, I wondered — It just might have been something else, mightn’t it?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, it could have been deliberate, you know.’
‘What do you mean by deliberate?’
‘Actually I just wondered whether you were trying to get yourself killed?’ He added casually, ‘Were you?’
‘I — no — well — no, of course not.’
‘Damn’ silly way to do it, if so.’ His tone changed slightly. ‘Come now, you must remember something about it.’
She began shivering again. ‘I thought — I thought it would be all over. I thought —’
‘So you were trying to kill yourself, weren’t you? What’s the matter? You can tell me. Boy friend? That can make one feel pretty bad. Besides, there’s always the hopeful thought that if you kill yourself you make him sorry — but one should never trust to that. People don’t like feeling sorry or feeling anything is their fault. All the boy friend will probably say is, “I always thought she was unbalanced. It’s really all for the best.” Just remember that next time you have an urge to charge Jaguars. Even Jaguars have feelings to be considered. Was that the trouble? Boy friend walk out on you?’
‘No,’ said Norma. ‘Oh no. It was quite the opposite.’ She added suddenly, ‘He wanted to marry me.’
‘That’s no reason for throwing yourself down in front of a Jaguar.’
‘Yes it is. I did it because —’ She stopped.
‘You’d better tell me about it, hadn’t you?’
‘How did I get here?’ asked Norma.
‘I brought you here in a taxi. You didn’t seem injured — a few bruises, I expect. You merely looked shaken to death, and in a state of shock. I asked you your address, but you looked at me as though you didn’t know what I was talking about. A crowd was about to collect. So I hailed a taxi and brought you here.’
‘Is this a — a doctor’s surgery?’
‘This is a doctor’s consulting room and I’m the doctor. Stillingfleet, my name is.’
‘I don’t want to see a doctor! I don’t want to talk to a doctor! I don’t —’
‘Calm down, calm down. You’ve been talking to a doctor for the last ten minutes. What’s the matter with doctors, anyway?’
‘I’m afraid. I’m afraid a doctor would say —’
‘Come now, my dear girl, you’re not consulting me professionally. Regard me as a mere outsider who’s been enough of a busybody to save you from being killed or, what is far more likely, having