Agatha Christie - They Do It With Mirrors

Painstakingly she rejected the curious behaviour of Mr Selkirk's delivery van - the absent-minded postman - the gardener who worked on Whit Monday - and that very curious affair of the summer weight combinations.

Something that she could not quite put her finger on was wrong about Edgar Lawson - something that went beyond the observed and admitted facts. But for the life of her, Miss Marple did not see how that wrongness, whatever it was, affected her friend Carrie Louise. In the confused patterns of life at Stonygates people's troubles and desires impinged on each other. But none of them (again as far as she could see) impinged on Carrie Louise.

Carrie Louise… Suddenly Miss Marple realized that it was she alone, except for the absent Ruth, who used that name. To her husband, she was Caroline. To Miss Bellever, Cara. Stephen Restarick usually addressed her as Madonna. To Wally she was formally Mrs Serrocold, and Gina elected to address her as Grandam - a mixture, she had explained, of Grande Dame and Grandmamma.

Was there some significance, perhaps, in the various names that were found for Caroline Louise Serrocold?

Was she to all of them a symbol and not quite a real person?

When on the following morning Carrie Louise, drag-ging her feet a little as she walked, came and sat down on the garden seat beside her friend and asked her what she was thinking about, Miss Marple replied promptly: 'You, Carrie Louise.'

'What about me?'

'Tell me honestly - is there anything here that worries you?'

'Worries me?' The woman raised wondering clear blue eyes. 'But Jane, what should worry me?'

'Well, most of us have worries.' Miss Marple's eyes twinkled a little. 'I have. Slugs, you know - and the difficulty of getting linen properly darned - and not being able to get sugar candy for making my damson gin. Oh, lots of little things - it seems unnatural that you shouldn't have any worries at all.'

'I suppose I must have really,' said Mrs Serrocold vaguely. 'Lewis works too hard, and Stephen forgets his meals slaving at the theatre, and Gina is very jumpy - but I've never been able to alter people - I don't see how you can. So it wouldn't be any good worrying, would it?'

'Mildred's not very happy, either, is she?'

'Oh no,' said Carrie Louise. 'Mildred never is happy.

She wasn't as a child. Quite unlike Pippa, who was always radiant.'

'Perhaps,' suggested Miss Marple, 'Mildred had cause not to be happy?'

Carrie Louise said quietly: 'Because of being jealous? Yes, I daresay. But people don't really need a cause for feeling what they do feel.

They're just made that way. Don't you think so, Jane?' Miss Marple thought briefly of Miss Moncrieff, a slave to a tyrannical invalid mother. Poor Miss Moncrieff who longed for travel and to see the world. And of how St Mary Mead in a decorous way had rejoiced when Mrs Moncrieff was laid in the churchyard and Miss Moncrieff, with a nice little income, was free at last. And of how Miss Moncrieff, starting on her travels, had got no farther than Hyres where, calling to see one of'mother's oldest friends,' she had been so moved by the plight of an elderly hypochondriac that she had cancelled her travel reservations and taken up her abode in the villa to be bullied, over-worked, and to long wistfully, once more, for the joys of a wider horizon.

Miss Marple said: 'I expect you're right, Carrie Louise.'

'Of course my being so free from cares is partly due to Jolly. Dear Jolly. She came to me when Johnnie and I were just married and was wonderful from the first. She takes care of me as though I were a baby and quite helpless. She'd do anything for me. I feel quite ashamed sometimes. I really believe Jolly would murder someone for me, Jane. Isn't that an awful thing to say?'

'She's certainly very devoted,' agreed Miss Marple.

'She gets so indignant.' Mrs Serrocold's silvery laugh rang out. 'She'd like me to be always ordering wonderful clothes, and surrounding myself with luxuries, and she thinks everybody ought to put me first and to dance attendance on me. She's the one person who's absolutely unimpressed by Lewis's enthusiasm. All our poor boys are in her view pampered young criminals and not worth taking trouble over. She thinks this place is damp and bad for my rheumatism, and that I ought to go to Egypt or somewhere warm and dry.'

'Do you suffer much from rheumatism?'

'It's got much worse lately. I find it difficult to walk.

Horrid cramps in my legs. Oh well -' Again there came that bewitching elfin smile, 'age must tell.'

Miss Bellever came out of the french windows and hurried across to them.

'A telegram, Cara, just come over the telephone.

Arriving this afternoon, Christian Gulbrandsen.'

'Christian?' Carrie Louise looked very surprised. 'I'd no idea he was in England.'

'The oak suite, I suppose?'

'Yes, plase, Jolly. Then there will be no stairs.' Miss Bellever nodded and turned back to the house.

'Christian Gulbrandsen is my stepson,' said Carrie Louise. 'Eric's eldest son. Actually he's two years older than I am. He's one of the trustees of the Institute - the principal trustee. How very annoying that Lewis is away.

Christian hardly ever stays longer than one night. He's an immensely busy man. And there are sure to be so many things they would want to discuss.'

Christian Gulbrandsen arrived that afternoon in time for tea. He was a big heavy-featured man, with a slow methodical way of talking. He greeted Crrie Louise with every sign of affection.

'And how is our little Carrie Louise? You do not look a day older. Not a day.'

His hands on her shoulders - he stood smiling down at her. A hand tugged his sleeve.

'Christian!'

'Ah,' he turned - 'it is Mildred? How are you, Mildred?'

'I've not really been at all well lately.'

'That is bad. That is bad.'

There was a strong resemblance between Christian Gulbrandsen and his half-sister Mildred. There was nearly thirty years' difference in age and they might easily have been taken for father and daughter. Mildred herself seemed particularly pleased by his arrival. She was flushed and talkative, and had talked repeatedly during the day of 'my brother,' 'my brother Christian,' 'my brother Mr Gulbrandsen.'

'And how is little Gina?' said Gulbrandsen, turning to that young woman. 'You and your husband are still here, then?'

'Yes. We've quite settled down, haven't we, Wally?'

'Looks like it,' said Wally.

Gulbrandsen's small shrewd eyes seemed to sum up Wally quickly. Wally, as usual, looked sullen and unfriendly.

'So here I am with all the family again,' said Gulbrandsen.

His voice displayed a rather determined geniality - but in actual fact, Miss Marple thought, he was not feeling particularly genial. There was a grim set to his lips and a certain preoccupation in his manner.

Introduced to Miss Marple, he swept a keen look over her as though measuring and appraising this newcomer.

'We'd no idea you were in England, Christian,' said Mrs Serrocold.

'No, I came over rather unexpectedly.'

'It is too bad that Lewis is away. How long can you stay?'

'I meant to go tomorrow. When will Lewis be back?'

'Tomorrow afternoon or evening.'

'It seems then that I must stay another night.'

'If you'd only let us know '

'My dear Carrie Louise, my arrangements, they were made very suddenly.'

'You will stay to see Lewis?'

'Yes, it is necessary that I see Lewis.'

Miss Bellever said to Miss Marple: 'Mr Gulbrandsen and Mr Serrocold are both trustees of the Gulbrandsen Institute. The others are the Bishop of Cromer and Mr Gilfoy.' Presumably, then, it was on business concerned with the Gulbrandsen Institute that Christian Gulbrandsen had come to Stonygates. It seemed to be assumed so by Miss Bellever and everyone else. And yet Miss Marple wondered.