Third girl - Agatha Christie [40]
‘It’s not religious. It’s just — just hate.’
There was a tap at the door and an elderly woman came in with a tea tray. She put it down on the desk and went out again.
‘Sugar?’ said Dr Stillingfleet.
‘Yes, please.’
‘Sensible girl. Sugar is very good for you when you’ve had a shock.’ He poured out two cups of tea, set hers at her side and placed the sugar basin beside it. ‘Now then,’ he sat down. ‘What were we talking about? Oh yes, hate.’
‘It is possible, isn’t it, that you could hate someone so much that you really want to kill them?’
‘Oh, yes,’ said Stillingfleet, cheerfully still. ‘Perfectly possible. In fact, most natural. But even if you really want to do it you can’t always screw yourself up to the point, you know. The human being is equipped with a natural braking system and it applies the brakes for you just at the right moment.’
‘You make it sound so ordinary,’ said Norma. There was a distinct overtone of annoyance in her voice.
‘Oh, well, it is quite natural. Children feel like it almost every day. Lose their tempers, say to their mothers or their fathers: “You’re wicked, I hate you, I wish you were dead.” Mothers, being sometimes sensible people, don’t usually pay any attention. When you grow up, you still hate people, but you can’t take quite so much trouble wanting to kill them by then. Or if you still do — well, then you go to prison. That is, if you actually brought yourself to do such a messy and difficult job. You aren’t putting all this on, are you, by the way?’ he asked casually.
‘Of course not.’ Norma sat up straight. Her eyes flashed with anger. ‘Of course not. Do you think I would say such awful things if they weren’t true?’
‘Well, again,’ said Dr Stillingfleet, ‘people do. They say all sorts of awful things about themselves and enjoy saying them.’ He took her empty cup from her. ‘Now then,’ he said, ‘you’d better tell me all about everything. Who you hate, why you hate them, what you’d like to do to them.’
‘Love can turn to hate.’
‘Sounds like a melodramatic ballad. But remember hate can turn to love, too. It works both ways. And you say it’s not a boy friend. He was your man and he did you wrong. None of that stuff, eh?’
‘No, no. Nothing like that. It’s — it’s my stepmother.’
‘The cruel stepmother motif. But that’s nonsense. At your age you can get away from a stepmother. What has she done to you beside marrying your father? Do you hate him too, or are you so devoted to him that you don’t want to share him?’
‘It’s not like that at all. Not at all. I used to love him once. I loved him dearly. He was — he was — I thought he was wonderful.’
‘Now then,’ said Dr Stillingfleet, ‘listen to me. I’m going to suggest something. You see that door?’
Norma turned her head and looked in a puzzled fashion at the door.
‘Perfectly ordinary door, isn’t it? Not locked. Opens and shuts in the ordinary way. Go on, try it for yourself. You saw my housekeeper come in and go out through it, didn’t you? No illusions. Come on. Get up. Do what I tell you.’
Norma rose from her chair and rather hesitatingly went to the door and opened it. She stood in the aperture, her head turned towards him inquiringly.
‘Right. What do you see? A perfectly ordinary hallway, wants redecorating but it’s not worth having it done when I’m just off to Australia. Now go to the front door, open it, also no tricks about it. Go outside and down to the pavement and that will show you that you are perfectly free with no attempts to shut you up in any way. After that, when you have satisfied yourself that you could walk out of this place at any minute you like, come back, sit in that comfortable chair over there and tell me all about yourself. After which I will give you my valuable advice. You needn’t take it,’ he added consolingly. ‘People seldom do take advice, but you might as well have it. See? Agreed?’
Norma got up slowly, she went a little shakily out of the room, out into — as the doctor had described — the perfectly ordinary hallway, opened the front door with a simple catch, down four steps and stood on the