Agatha Christie - Yowards Zero

Audrey Strange started, turned her head, withdrew her hand and murmured with just the slightest air of confusion : "Oh, sorry. I thought you were speaking to me, Nevile."

Thomas Royde saw the colour come up brick-red in Nevile Strange's neck. He took three quick steps forward and held out the picture paper to Audrey.

She said, hesitating, her air of embarrassment growing: "Oh, but — "

Kay pushed back her chair with a rough movement. She stood up, then, turning, she made for the drawing-room window. Royde had no time to move before she had charged into him blindly.

The shock made her recoil; she looked at him as he apologised. He saw then why she had not seen him; her eyes were brimming with tears — tears, he fancied, of anger.

"Hullo," she said. "Who are you? Oh! of course, the man from Malaya !"

"Yes," said Thomas. "I'm the man from Malaya ."

"I wish to God I was in Malaya ," said Kay. "Anywhere but here! I loathe this beastly, lousy house! I loathe everyone in it!"

Emotional scenes always alarmed Thomas. He regarded Kay warily and murmured nervously: "Ah — hum."

"Unless they're very careful," said Kay, "I shall kill someone! Either Nevile or that whey-faced cat out there!"

She brushed past him and went out of the room, banging the door.

Thomas Royde stood stock still. He was not quite sure what to do next, but he was glad that young Mrs. Strange had gone. He stood and looked at the door that she had slammed so vigorously. Something of a tiger cat, the new Mrs. Strange.

The window was darkened as Nevile Strange paused in the space between the trench windows. He was breathing rather fast.

He greeted Thomas vaguely.

"Oh — er — hullo, Royde, didn't know you'd arrived. I say, have you seen my wife?"

"She passed through about a minute ago." said the other.

Nevile in his turn went out through the drawing-room door. He was looking annoyed.

Thomas Royde went slowly through the open window. He was not a heavy walker. Not until he was a couple of yards away did Audrey turn her head.

Then he saw those wide-apart eyes open wider, saw her lips part. She slipped down from the wall and came towards him, hands outstretched.

"Oh, Thomas," she said. "Dear Thomas! How glad I am you've come!"

As he took the two small white hands in his and bent down to her Mary Aldin in her turn arrived at the French windows. Seeing the two on the terrace she checked herself, watched them for a moment or two, then slowly turned away and went back into the house.

Upstairs Nevile had found Kay in her bedroom. The only large double-bedroom in the house was Lady Tressilian's. A married couple was always given the two rooms with communicating door and a small bathroom beyond on the west side of the house. It was a small isolated suite.

Nevile passed through his own room and on into his wife's. Kay had flung herself down on her bed. Raising a tear-stained face, she cried out angrily: "So you've come! About time, too!"

"What is all this fuss about? Have you gone quite crazy, Kay?"

Nevile spoke quietly, but there was a dent at the corner of his nostril that registered restrained anger.

"Why did you give that Illustrated Review to her and not to me?"

"Really, Kay, you are a child. All this fuss about a wretched little picture paper."

"You gave it to her and not to me," repeated Kay obstinately.

"Well, why not? What does it matter?"

"It matters to me."

"I don't know what's wrong with you. You can't behave in this hysterical fashion when you're staying in other people's houses. Don't you know how to behave in public?"

"Why did you give it to Audrey?"

"Because she wanted it."

"So did I, and I'm your wife."

"All the more reason, in that case, for giving it to an older woman and one who, technically, is no relation."

"She scored off me! She wanted to and she did. You were on her side!"

"You're talking like an idiotic, jealous child. For goodness' sake, control yourself, and try and behave properly in public!"

"Like she does, I suppose?"

Nevile said coldly: "At any rate, Audrey can behave like a lady. She doesn't make an exhibition of herself."

"She's turning you against me! She hates me and she's getting her revenge."

"Look here, Kay, will you stop being melodramatic and completely foolish? I'm fed up!"

"Then let's go away from here! Let's go to-morrow. I hate this place!"

"We've only been here four days."

"It's quite enough! Do let's go, Nevile."

"Now look here, Kay. I've had enough of this. We came here for a fortnight, and I'm going to stay for a fortnight."

"If you do," said Kay, "you'll be sorry. You and your Audrey! You think she's wonderful!"

"I don't think Audrey is wonderful. I think she's an extremely nice and kindly person, whom I've treated very badly and who has been most generous and forgiving."

"That's where you're wrong," said Kay. She got up from the bed. Her fury had died down. She spoke seriously — almost soberly.

"Audrey hasn't forgiven you, Nevile. Once or twice I've seen her looking at you … I don't know what is going on in her mind, but something is … She's the kind that doesn't let anyone know what they're thinking."

"It's a pity," said Nevile, "that there aren't more people like that."

Kay's face went very white.

"Do you mean that for me?" There was a dangerous edge to her voice.

"Well — you haven't shown much reticence, have you? Every bit of ill-temper and spite that comes into your mind you blurt straight out. You make a fool of yourself and you make a fool of me!"

"Anything more to say?" Her voice was icy.

He said in an equally cold tone: "I'm sorry if you think that was unfair. But it's the plain truth. You've no more self-control than a child."

"You never lose your temper, do you? Always the self-controlled, charming-mannered little pukka sahib! I don't believe you've got any feelings. You're just a fish — a damned cold-blooded fish! Why don't you let yourself go now and then? Why don't you shout at me, swear at me, tell me to go to Hell?"

Nevile sighed. His shoulders sagged.

"Oh, Lord," he said.

Turning on his heel he left the room.

"You look exactly as you did at seventeen, Thomas Royde," said Lady Tressilian. "Just the same owlish look. And no more conversation now than you had then. Why not?"

Thomas said vaguely: "I dunno. Never had the gift of the gab."

"Not like Adrian . Adrian was a very clever and witty talker."

"Perhaps that's why. Always left the talking to him."

"Poor Adrian . So much promise." Thomas nodded.

Lady Tressilian changed the subject. She was granting an audience to Thomas. She usually preferred her visitors one at a time. It did not tire her and she was able to concentrate her attention on them.

"You've been here twenty-four hours," she said. "What do you think of our Situation?"

"Situation?"

"Don't look stupid. You do that deliberately. You know quite well what I mean. The eternal triangle which has established itself under my roof."

Thomas said cautiously: "Seems a bit of friction." Lady Tressilian smiled rather diabolically.

"I will confess to you, Thomas, I am rather enjoying myself. This came about through no wish of mine — indeed, I did my utmost to prevent it. Nevile was obstinate. He would insist on bringing these two together — and now he is reaping what he has sown!"

Thomas Royde shifted a little in his chair.

"Seems funny," he said.

"Elucidate," snapped Lady Tressilian.

"Shouldn't have thought Strange was that kind of chap."

"It's interesting your saying that. Because it is what I felt. It was uncharacteristic of Nevile. Nevile, like most men, is usually anxious to avoid any kind of embarrassment or possible unpleasantness. I suspected that it wasn't originally Nevile's idea — but, if not, I don't see whose idea it can have been." She paused and said with only the slightest upward inflexion: "It wouldn't be Audrey's?"