Agatha Christie - Postern of Fate

'Well,' said Tuppence, masking any disappointment she felt, 'it's all very interesting, I'm sure. Who were these people, did you say?'

'Oh, they were the Listers, they were.'

'Did you ever know a Mary Jordan?'

'Ah, I know who you mean. No, she was before my time a bit, I think. You mean the German spy girl, don't you?'

'Everyone seems to know about her here,' said Tuppence.

'Yes. They called her the Frow Line, or something. Sounds like a railway.'

'It does rather,' said Tuppence.

Isaac suddenly laughed. 'Ha, ha, ha,' he said. 'If it was a railway, a line a railway line, oh, it didn't run straight, did it? No, indeed.' He laughed again.

'What a splendid joke,' said Tuppence kindly.

Isaac laughed again.

'It's about time,' he said, 'you thought of putting some vegetables in, isn't it? You know, if you want to get your broad beans on in good time you ought to put 'em in and prepare for the peas. And what about some early lettuce? Tom Thumbs now? Beautiful lettuce, those, small but crisp as anything.'

'I suppose you've done a lot of gardening work round here. I don't mean just this house, but a lot of places.'

'Ah yes, I've done odd jobbing, you know. I used to come along to most of the houses. Some of the gardeners they had weren't any good at all and I'd usually come in and help at certain times or other. Had a bit of an accident here once, you know. Mistake about vegetables. Before my time – but I heard about it.'

'Something about foxglove leaves, wasn't it?' said Tuppence.

'Ah, fancy you having heard of that already. That was a long time ago, too. Yes, several was taken ill with it. One of them died. At least so I heard. That was only hearsay. Old pal of mine told me that.'

'I think it was the Frow Line,' said Tuppence.

'What, the Frow Line as died? Well, I never heard that.'

'Well, perhaps I'm wrong,' said Tuppence. 'Supposing you take Truelove,' she said, 'or whatever this thing's called, and put it on the hill in the place where that child, Pamela, used to take it down the hill – if the hill is still there.'

'Well, of course the hill is still there. What do you think? It's all grass still, but be careful now. I don't know how much of Truelove is rusted away. I'll have a bit of a clean-up on it first, shall I?'

'That's right,' said Tuppence, 'and then you can think of a list of vegetables that we ought to be getting on with.'

'Ah well, I'll be careful you don't get foxglove and spinach planted together. Shouldn't like to hear that something happened to you when you've just got into a new house. Nice place here if you can just have a little money to spend on it.'

'Thank you very much,' said Tuppence.

'And I'll just see to that there Truelove so as it won't break down under you. It's very old but you'd be surprised the way some old things work. Why, I knew a cousin of mine the other day and he got out an old bicycle. You wouldn't think it would go – nobody had ridden it for about forty years. But it went all right with a bit of oil. Ah, it's wonderful what a bit of oil can do.'

'What on earth -' said Tommy.

He was used to finding Tuppence in unlikely spots when he returned to the house, but on this occasion he was more startled than usual.

Inside the house there was no trace of her, although outside there was a very slight patter of rain. It occurred to him that she might be engrossed in some portion of the garden, and he went out to see if this might be the case. And it was then that he remarked, 'What on earth -'

'Hullo, Tommy,' said Tuppence, 'you're back a bit earlier than I thought you would be.'

'What is that thing?'

'You mean Truelove?'

'What did you say?'

'I said Truelove,' said Tuppence, 'that's the name of it.'

'Are you trying to go for a ride on it – it's much too small for you.'

'Well, of course it is. It's a child's sort of thing – what you had, I suppose, before you had fairy-cycles, or whatever one had in my youth.'

'It doesn't really go, does it?' asked Tommy.

'Well, not exactly,' said Tuppence, 'but, you see, you take it up to the top of the hill and then it – well, its wheels turn of their own accord, you see, and because of the hill you go down.'

'And crash at the bottom, I suppose. Is that what you've been doing?'

'Not at all,' said Tuppence. 'You brake it with your feet. Would you like me to give you a demonstration?'

'I don't think so,' said Tommy. 'It's beginning to rain rather harder. I just wanted to know why you – well, why you're doing it. I mean, it can't be very enjoyable, can it?'

'Actually,' said Tuppence, 'it's rather frightening. But you see I just wanted to find out and -'

'And are you asking this tree? What is this tree anyway? A monkey puzzle, isn't it?'

'That's right,' said Tuppence. 'How clever of you to know.'

'Of course I know,' said Tommy. 'I know its other name too.'

'So do I,' said Tuppence.

They looked at each other.

'Only at the moment I've forgotten it,' said Tommy. 'Is it an arti -'

'Well, it's something very like that,' said Tuppence. 'I think that's good enough, don't you?'

'What are you doing inside a prickly thing like that?'

'Well, because when you get to the end of the hill, I mean, if you didn't put your feet down to stop completely you could be in the arti – or whatever it is.'

'Do I mean arti -? What about urticaria? No that's nettles, isn't it? Oh well,' said Tommy, 'everyone to their own kind of amusement.'

'I was just doing a little investigation, you know, of our latest problem.'

'Your problem? My problem? Whose problem?'

'I don't know,' said Tuppence. 'Both our problems, I hope.'

'But not one of Beatrice's problems, or anything like that?'

'Oh no. It's just that I wondered what other things there might be hidden in this house, so I went and looked at a lot of toys that seem to have been shoved away in a sort of queer old greenhouse probably years and years ago and there was this creature and there was Mathilde, which is a rocking-horse with a hole in its stomach.'

'A hole in its stomach?'

'Well, yes. People, I suppose, used to shove things in there. Children – for fun – and lots of old leaves and dirty papers and bits of sort of queer dusters and flannel, oily stuff that had been used to clean things with.'

'Come on, let's go into the house,' said Tommy.

'Well, Tommy,' said Tuppence, as she stretched out her feet to a pleasant wood fire which she had lit ready for his return in the drawing-room, 'let's have your news. Did you go to the Ritz Hotel Gallery to see the show?'

'No. As a matter of fact, I didn't. I hadn't time, really.'

'What do you mean, you hadn't time? I thought that's what you went for.'

'Well, one doesn't always do the things that one went for.'

'You must have gone somewhere and done something,' said Tuppence.

'I found a new possible place to park a car.'

'That's always useful,' said Tuppence. 'Where was that?'

'Near Hounslow.'

'What on earth did you want to go to Hounslow for?'

'Well, I didn't actually go to Hounslow. There's a sort of car park there, then I took a tube, you know.'

'What, a tube to London?'

'Yes. Yes, it seemed the easiest way.'

'You have rather a guilty look about you,' said Tuppence. 'Don't tell me I have a rival who lives in Hounslow?'

'No,' said Tommy. 'You ought to be pleased with what I've been doing.'

'Oh. Have you been buying me a present?'

'No. No,' said Tommy, 'I'm afraid not. I never know what to give you, as a matter of fact.'

'Well, your guesses are very good sometimes,' said Tuppence hopefully. 'What have you been really doing, Tommy, and why should I be pleased?'