The Christie Affair(71)
‘Yes indeed,’ Chilton said.
Agatha, absent her stack of books, had already turned and headed for the door. Chilton gathered everything – including my Galsworthy – and bade goodbye to the librarian.
‘You’re certainly not cut out for this,’ he scolded, when he caught up with Agatha outside. ‘Not much of a poker player either, I would suppose.’
‘Did you see that headline? My photograph? The Great Hunt? How can I ever go back? How can I ever face the world again?’ She covered her face with gloved hands, then stepped forwards and pressed the crown of her head against Chilton’s chest. He wasn’t much taller than she so she had to stoop to do so. Chilton lifted his arm to hold her and the books clattered to the ground. From where they stood, he could see the librarian, standing in the window, watching them.
‘Agatha,’ he said.
She stepped back and they kneeled together to pick up the books.
‘Will you drive me back to the manor?’ she said. ‘I don’t feel fit to do it myself.’
Chilton cranked up the Bentley while Agatha settled in the passenger seat. Miss Oliver’s coat smelled like rosewater. The Bentley was too large for Agatha’s taste. How she missed her own little car. She thought of it left in so precarious a spot and hoped it was all right. She hoped that some good soul – Archie, even – had pushed it back onto the road and driven it home where it belonged. When she was a girl, in the tidal wave of financial wreckage following her father’s death – and the other times in her life, early in her marriage, for example, when the spectre of money troubles loomed, her mother-in-law’s warnings bearing out, numbers not properly arranging themselves in the ledger – what if someone had told her then that one day, she herself would make enough money, by her own hands, to purchase such a thing: her dear Morris Cowley? Would she ever see it again? Was it worth leaving it behind, along with everything else – Teddy – to never have to face the questions the whole world would ask if she reappeared?
When Chilton got behind the wheel she said, ‘I can’t bear going home and facing the world. But how can I do anything else? The more time they spend looking for me, the worse it will be. You should drive me to police headquarters straight away. Just end this whole thing here and now.’
‘I don’t find myself able to do that. Not yet.’
So many police, so many people, discharged in the search for her. What luck, that such a lovely one had been successful. She reached over and grabbed Chilton’s hand. ‘I don’t like romances,’ she said. ‘They ring false to me. Especially when people meet and fall in love at a glance.’
‘What about several glances?’
She laughed and let go of his hand. They both sat and stared out the windscreen for several minutes. Then she said, ‘She’s still watching. The librarian. You’d better drive.’
Back at the Bellefort I had not gone upstairs to lie down, as I’d told Chilton, but only to change my clothes. Having made an appearance at the hotel, assuring the general public of my remaining presence in the world, I escaped from it again almost at once. The day had warmed. The rain had lifted. Solvitur ambulando. When I reached the Timeless Manor’s drive I ran the length of it.
‘Look what I found,’ Finbarr said, meeting me on the lawn outside, as if he’d known I would come straight back. It was a tennis net, rackets and balls. He set it up and we played two sets, me winning them both handily.
A big black car came sputtering up the drive. I lifted my hand to shade my eyes. There in the driver’s seat sat Mr Chilton. All the workings of my body halted. No breath to my lungs or blood from my heart. Agatha had been found. Was Chilton here to arrest Finbarr? All of us, for trespassing? Worst of all, regardless of what happened next, would this time come to an abrupt end, all of us returning to life as it had been unspooling?
Instead, Finbarr called out, as the two of them emerged from the automobile. Cheerful as you please, as if he’d known the man for ages, he said, ‘Do you play, Mr Chilton?’
And Chilton said, absolutely casual, ‘I did once or twice before the war. Afraid I’m a bit of a liability now.’ He indicated his bad arm.
‘It’s just for fun,’ Finbarr said.
Chilton nodded. He looked at me as though he’d fully expected to find me here. ‘Hello, Miss O’Dea.’ He pronounced the Miss pointedly.
‘I haven’t got an eye for balls,’ Agatha said. ‘I never had.’ Still, she went upstairs to change back into her men’s clothes. Finbarr, Chilton and I stood on the grass. I wanted to ask Chilton when he’d discovered Agatha, but something silenced me. I didn’t want to say anything, lest I break whatever spell allowed this to happen – all of us discovered, and yet not ruined. I felt a burst of love for Chilton, that he had found her and yet apparently had no intention of alerting the world.
‘It’s rather magical here,’ I said, instead of posing any questions.
‘Indeed it is,’ Chilton agreed.
Agatha returned. Since I was the best player, I took Chilton as my partner. For once I held back on my need to win, letting Chilton swing at balls I could easily have reached. Despite her disclaimer, Agatha played quite nicely. All the upper-crust girls were passable at tennis. The four of us played while our hands reddened and chapped along with our cheeks. But the same magic that brought us all here together without spelling disaster seemed to keep us warm enough, half-dead tennis balls tossed in the air, scores called out, the pop and whack of slicing rackets.