Agatha Christie - Postern of Fate

'Ah no there's no accounting for people, is there? Ones that aren't what you think they are, sometimes things as you wouldn't have believed in about them.'

'Spies, I suppose, sometimes,' said Tuppence, 'or criminals.'

She looked at him hopefully… Old Isaac bent and picked up a splinter of glass.

'Here you are,' he said. 'How'd you feel if that got in the sole of your foot?'

Tuppence began to feel that the replenishing of a glass skylight was not going to yield much in the way of Isaac's more exciting memories of the past. She mentioned that the small so-called greenhouse attached to a wall of the house near the dining-room window was also in need of repair and replacement by an outlay of money upon glass. Would it be worth repairing or would it be better to have it pulled down? Isaac was quite pleased to transfer himself to this fresh problem. They went downstairs, and outside the house walked round its walls until they came to the erection in question.

'Ah, you mean that there, do you?'

Tuppence said yes, she did mean that there.

'Kay-kay,' said Isaac.

Tuppence looked at him. Two letters of the alphabet such as KK really meant nothing to her.

'What did you say?'

'I said KK. That's what it used to be called in old Mrs Lottie Jones's time.'

'Oh. Why did she call it KK?'

'I dunno. It was a sort of – sort of name I suppose they used to have for places like this. You know, it wasn't grand. Bigger houses have a real conservatory. You know, where they'd have maidenhair ferns in pots.'

'Yes,' said Tuppence, her own memories going back easily to such things.

'And a greenhouse you can call it, too. But this here, KK old Mrs Lottie Jones used to call it. I dunno why.'

'Did they have maidenhair ferns in it?'

'No, it wasn't used for that. No. The children had it for toys mostly. Well, when you say toys I expect they're here still if nobody has turned them out. You see, it's half falling down, isn't it? They just stuck up a bit then they put a bit of roofing over and I don't suppose that anyone will use it again. They used to bring the broken toys, or chairs out here and things like that. But then, you see, they already had the rocking-horse there and Truelove in the far corner.'

'Can we get inside it?' asked Tuppence, trying to apply her eye to a slightly clearer portion of a pane of window. 'There must be a lot of queer things inside.'

'Ah well, there's the key,' said Isaac. 'I expect it's hanging up in the same place.'

'Where's the same place?'

'Ah, there's a shed round here.'

They went round an adjacent path. The shed was hardly worthy of being called a shed. Isaac kicked its door open, removed various bits of branches of trees, kicked away some rotting apples and, removing an old doormat hanging on the wall, showed three or four rusty keys hanging up on a nail.

'Lindop's keys, those,' he said. 'Last but one as was living here as gardener. Retired basket-maker, he was. Didn't do no good at anything. If you'd like to see inside KK -?'

'Oh yes,' said Tuppence hopefully. 'I'd like to see inside KK. How do you spell it?' she asked.

'How do I spell what?'

'I mean KK. Is it just two letters?'

'No. I think it was something different. I think it was two foreign words. I seem to remember now K-A-I and then another K-A-I. Kay-Kay, or Kye-Kye almost, they used to say it. I think it was a Japanese word.'

'Oh,' said Tuppence. 'Did any Japanese people ever live here?'

'Oh no, nothing like that. No. Not that kind of foreigner.'

The application of a little oil, which Isaac seemed to produce and apply quite quickly, had a wonderful effect on the rustiest of the keys which, inserted in the door and turned with a grinding noise, could be pushed open. Tuppence and her guide went in.

'There you are,' said Isaac, not displaying any particular pride in the objects within. 'Nothing but old rubbish, is it?'

'That's a rather wonderful-looking horse,' said Tuppence.

'That's Mackild, that is,' said Isaac.

'Mack-ild?' said Tuppence, rather doubtfully.

'Yes. It's a woman's name of some kind. Queen somebody, it was. Somebody said as it was William the Conqueror's wife but I think they were just boasting about that. Come from America, it did. American godfather brought it to one of the children.'

'To one of the -?'

'One of the Bassington children, that was. Before the other lot. I dunno. I suppose it's all rusted up now.'

Mathilde was a rather splendid-looking horse even in decay. Its length was quite the length of any horse or mare to be found nowadays. Only a few hairs were left of what must once have been a prolific mane. One ear was broken off. It had once been painted grey. Its front legs splayed out in front and its back legs at the back; it had a wispy tail.

'It doesn't work like any rocking-horse I've ever seen before,' said Tuppence, interested.

'No, it don't, do it?' said Isaac. 'You know, they go up and down, up and down, front to back. But this one here, you see – it sort of springs forwards. Once first, the front legs do it – whoop – and then the back legs do it. It's a very good action. Now if I was to get on it and show you -'

'Do be careful,' said Tuppence. 'It might – there might be nails or something which would stick into you, or you might fall off.'

'Ah, I've ridden on Mathilde, fifty or sixty years ago it must have been, but I remember. And it's still pretty solid, you know. It's not really falling to bits yet.'

With a sudden, unexpected, acrobatic action he sprang upon Mathilde. The horse raced forwards, then raced backwards.

'Got action, hasn't it?'

'Yes, it's got action,' said Tuppence.

'Ah, they loved that, you know. Miss Jenny, she used to ride it day after day.'

'Who was Miss Jenny?'

'Why, she was the eldest one, you know. She was the one that had the godfather as sent her this. Sent her Truelove, too,' he added.

Tuppence looked at him enquiringly. The remark did not seem to apply to any of the other contents of Kay-Kay.

'That's what they call it, you know. That little horse and cart what's there in the corner. Used to ride it down the hill. Miss Pamela did. Very serious, she was, Miss Pamela. She'd get in at the top of the hill and she'd put her feet on there – you see, it's meant to have pedals but they don't work, so she'd take it to the top of the hill and then she'd let it begin to go down the hill, and she'd put the brakes on, as it were, with her feet. Often she'd end up landing in the monkey puzzle, as a matter of fact.'

'That sounds very uncomfortable,' said Tuppence. 'I mean, to land in the monkey puzzle.'

'Ah well, she could stop herself a bit before that. Very serious, she was. She used to do that by the hour – three or four hours I've watched her. I was doing the Christmas rose bed very often, you know, and the pampas grass, and I'd see her going down. I didn't speak to her because she didn't like being spoken to. She wanted to go on with what she was doing or what she thought she was doing.'

'What did she think she was doing?' said Tuppence, beginning suddenly to get more interested in Miss Pamela than she had been in Miss Jenny.

'Well, I don't know. She used to say sometimes she was a princess, you know, escaping, or Mary, Queen of What-is-it – do I mean Ireland or Scotland?'

'Mary Queen of Scots,' suggested Tuppence.

'Yes, that's right. She went away or something, or escaped. Went into a castle. Lock something it was called. Not a real lock, you know, a piece of water, it was.'

'Ah yes, I see. And Pamela thought she was Mary Queen of Scots escaping from her enemies?'

'That's right. Going to throw herself into England on Queen Elizabeth's mercy, she said, but I don't think as Queen Elizabeth was very merciful.'