Agatha Christie - Cat Among the Pigeons

‘Miss Vansittart, I suppose?’

‘So you fix on her automatically?’ Miss Bulstrode looked at her sharply, ‘That’s interesting—’

‘I’m afraid I hadn’t really thought about it. I’ve just overheard the staff talking. I should think she’ll carry on very well—exactly in your tradition. And she’s very striking looking, handsome and with quite a presence. I imagine that’s important, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, it is. Yes, I’m sure Eleanor Vansittart is the right person.’

‘She’ll carry on where you leave off,’ said Ann gathering up her things.

But do I want that? thought Miss Bulstrode to herself as Ann went out. Carry on where I leave off? That’s just what Eleanor will do! No new experiments, nothing revolutionary. That wasn’t the way I made Meadowbank what it is. I took chances. I upset lots of people. I bullied and cajoled, and refused to follow the pattern of other schools. Isn’t that what I want to follow on here now? Someone to pour new life into the school. Some dynamic personality…like—yes—Eileen Rich.

But Eileen wasn’t old enough, hadn’t enough experience. She was stimulating, though, she could teach. She had ideas. She would never be dull—Nonsense, she must get that word out of her mind. Eleanor Vansittart was not dull…

She looked up as Miss Chadwick came in.

‘Oh, Chaddy,’ she said. ‘I am pleased to see you!’

Miss Chadwick looked a little surprised.

‘Why? Is anything the matter?’

‘I’m the matter. I don’t know my own mind.’

‘That’s very unlike you, Honoria.’

‘Yes, isn’t it? How’s the term going, Chaddy?’

‘Quite all right, I think.’ Miss Chadwick sounded a little unsure.

Miss Bulstrode pounced.

‘Now then. Don’t hedge. What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing. Really, Honoria, nothing at all. It’s just—’ Miss Chadwick wrinkled up her forehead and looked rather like a perplexed Boxer dog—‘Oh, a feeling. But really it’s nothing that I can put a finger on. The new girls seem a pleasant lot. I don’t care for Mademoiselle Blanche very much. But then I didn’t like Geneviève Depuy, either. Sly .’

Miss Bulstrode did not pay very much attention to this criticism. Chaddy always accused the French mistresses of being sly.

‘She’s not a good teacher,’ said Miss Bulstrode. ‘Surprising really. Her testimonials were so good.’

‘The French never can teach. No discipline,’ said Miss Chadwick. ‘And really Miss Springer is a little too much of a good thing! Leaps about so. Springer by nature as well as by name…’

‘She’s good at her job.’

‘Oh yes, first class.’

‘New staff is always upsetting,’ said Miss Bulstrode.

‘Yes,’ agreed Miss Chadwick eagerly. ‘I’m sure it’s nothing more than that. By the way, that new gardener is quite young. So unusual nowadays. No gardeners seem to be young. A pity he’s so good-looking. We shall have to keep a sharp eye open.’

The two ladies nodded their heads in agreement. They knew, none better, the havoc caused by a good-looking young man to the hearts of adolescent girls.

Chapter 7 Straws in the Wind

‘Not too bad, boy,’ said old Briggs grudgingly, ‘not too bad.’

He was expressing approval of his new assistant’s performance in digging a strip of ground. It wouldn’t do, thought Briggs, to let the young fellow get above himself.

‘Mind you,’ he went on, ‘you don’t want to rush at things. Take it steady, that’s what I say. Steady is what does it.’

The young man understood that his performance had compared rather too favourably with Briggs’s own tempo of work.

‘Now, along this here,’ continued Briggs, ‘we’ll put some nice asters out. She don’t like asters—but I pay no attention. Females has their whims, but if you don’t pay no attention, ten to one they never notice. Though I will say She is the noticing kind on the whole. You’d think she ’ad enough to bother her head about, running a place like this.’

Adam understood that ‘ She ’ who figured so largely in Briggs’s conversation referred to Miss Bulstrode.

‘And who was it I saw you talking to just now?’ went on Briggs suspiciously, ‘when you went along to the potting shed for them bamboos?’

‘Oh, that was just one of the young ladies,’ said Adam.

‘Ah. One of them two Eye-ties, wasn’t it? Now you be careful, my boy. Don’t you get mixed up with no Eye-ties, I know what I’m talkin’ about. I knew Eye-ties, I did, in the first war and if I’d known then what I know now I’d have been more careful. See?’

‘Wasn’t no harm in it,’ said Adam, putting on a sulky manner. ‘Just passed the time of day with me, she did, and asked the names of one or two things.’

‘Ah,’ said Briggs, ‘but you be careful. It’s not your place to talk to any of the young ladies. She wouldn’t like it.’

‘I wasn’t doing no harm and I didn’t say anything I shouldn’t.’

‘I don’t say you did, boy. But I say a lot o’ young females penned up together here with not so much as a drawing master to take their minds off things—well, you’d better be careful. That’s all. Ah, here comes the Old Bitch now. Wanting something difficult, I’ll be bound.’

Miss Bulstrode was approaching with a rapid step. ‘Good morning, Briggs,’ she said. ‘Good morning—er—’

‘Adam, miss.’

‘Ah yes, Adam. Well, you seem to have got that piece dug very satisfactorily. The wire netting’s coming down by the far tennis court, Briggs. You’d better attend to that.’

‘All right, ma’am, all right. It’ll be seen to.’

‘What are you putting in front here?’

‘Well ma’am, I had thought—’

‘ Not asters,’ said Miss Bulstrode, without giving him time to finish ‘Pom Pom dahlias,’ and she departed briskly.

‘Coming along—giving orders,’ said Briggs. ‘Not that she isn’t a sharp one. She soon notices if you haven’t done work properly. And remember what I’ve said and be careful, boy. About Eye-ties and the others.’

‘If she’s any fault to find with me, I’ll soon know what I can do,’ said Adam sulkily. ‘Plenty o’ jobs going.’

‘Ah. That’s like you young men all over nowadays. Won’t take a word from anybody. All I say is, mind your step.’

Adam continued to look sulky, but bent to his work once more.

Miss Bulstrode walked back along the path towards the school. She was frowning a little.

Miss Vansittart was coming in the opposite direction.

‘What a hot afternoon,’ said Miss Vansittart.

‘Yes, it’s very sultry and oppressive.’ Again Miss Bulstrode frowned. ‘Have you noticed that young man—the young gardener?’

‘No, not particularly.’

‘He seems to me—well—an odd type,’ said Miss Bulstrode thoughtfully. ‘Not the usual kind around here.’

‘Perhaps he’s just come down from Oxford and wants to make a little money.’

‘He’s good-looking. The girls notice him.’

‘The usual problem.’

Miss Bulstrode smiled. ‘To combine freedom for the girls and strict supervision—is that what you mean, Eleanor?’

‘Yes.’

‘We manage,’ said Miss Bulstrode.

‘Yes, indeed. You’ve never had a scandal at Meadowbank, have you?’

‘We’ve come near it once or twice,’ said Miss Bulstrode. She laughed. ‘Never a dull moment in running a school.’ She went on, ‘Do you ever find life dull here, Eleanor?’

‘No indeed,’ said Miss Vansittart. ‘I find the work here most stimulating and satisfying. You must feel very proud and happy, Honoria, at the great success you have achieved.’