Читать книгу Poison in the Pen - Dora Amy Elles - Страница 10

EIGHT

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The evening was over and quite a number of people were glad of it. Connie Brooke was one of them. It ought to have been a wonderful party, the sort of thing to remember and look back on when times were dull. And she had had a lovely dress to wear too, one that Scilla Repton had given her, almost new and just the pale blue she liked best. Penny Marsh thought it made her look too pale—‘run-in-the-wash’ was what she had really said. But everyone knew that fair girls could wear blue, and it would have been quite all right if she hadn’t been so upset and cried so much. Her skin showed it terribly when she cried, and her eyelids were still hot and swollen. She had hoped no one would notice it.

But Cousin Maggie had. She had come right up to her in the drawing-room after dinner and asked in her fidgeting sort of way whether there was anything the matter. It was kind, but it made her want to cry again. And of course she had recognized the dress—‘I suppose Scilla gave it to you. But really, my dear, the colour—rather trying! Perhaps you haven’t been sleeping.’

‘No, Cousin Maggie, I haven’t been sleeping.’

‘Oh, well, you shouldn’t let it go on. Nora Mallett was quite concerned. She said you looked as if you hadn’t slept for a week! And I said I would give you some of my tablets—very good ones which Dr Porteous gave me two years ago when I was staying with my cousin Annie Pedlar. They were wonderful! And you do feel so much better about everything when you’ve had a good night’s sleep.’

Well, of course they both knew that she had been dreadfully upset two years ago about Cousin Roger’s marriage. As if anything more wonderful could have happened! There they were, two dull elderly people, and Scilla—wonderful, beautiful Scilla—had been willing to come and live with them. She let her thoughts dwell on how marvellous it would be to live in the same house as Scilla and see her every day.

As she walked home across the Green with Mettie Eccles she kept on trying to think about Scilla. How lovely she had looked in that golden dress. She was much, much more beautiful than Valentine. Talk about looking pale—Valentine had looked like a ghost, everyone was saying so. Why should she be pale? She was the bride, tomorrow was her wedding day, she had everything that a girl could possibly want. Her own unhappiness came up in her throat and wouldn’t be swallowed down. She wondered if Cousin Maggie’s tablets would really make her sleep. It would be wonderful if they did. She would have to dissolve them—she had never been able to swallow anything like a pill ...

Miss Mettie was saying, ‘You don’t look fit for anything, Connie. You had better have something hot and get to bed as quickly as you can.’

‘Oh, yes. I left my cocoa all ready on the stove—I shall only have to heat it up. And Cousin Maggie gave me her tablets, so I shall be sure to sleep.’

Mettie Eccles said sharply, ‘I thought you couldn’t swallow a tablet. I remember your mother saying so.’

‘I’ll dissolve them in my cocoa.’

‘Goodness—they’ll taste nasty! But of course you don’t taste things, do you? Why can’t you just swallow them?’

Connie said weakly, ‘I don’t know—I can’t.’

She did hope Miss Mettie wasn’t going to argue with her about it. She didn’t feel like arguing with anyone tonight. It would be easier to try and swallow the tablets, but if she did she would be certain to choke.

Mettie Eccles went on about it all across the Green.

‘How many tablets did she give you? How many did she tell you to take?’

‘I don’t think she said. I expect it will be on the bottle.’

‘Well, I shouldn’t take more than one if I were you. It isn’t as though you were used to things like that.’

They said good-night at Miss Eccles’s gate and Connie went on alone. It was a great relief to be alone. She didn’t want to have to think any more, or to talk, or to answer any more questions. She only wanted to have her hot drink, and to lie down in her bed and go to sleep.

She always left a light burning when she was out. She didn’t like the feeling of coming into a dark house. She unlocked the door, and there was the light waiting for her. When she had locked it again she went through to the kitchen. Her cocoa stood ready on the oil stove in an enamelled saucepan. She lit one of the burners, put the pan on to heat, and went upstairs. Now that the evening was over she was so tired that she could hardly drag one foot after another, but she hung the pale blue dress away in what had been her mother’s room before she went down for the cocoa. She took Cousin Maggie’s tablets with her. She thought she would have slept without them, but she wanted to make sure. When she had drunk the cocoa she washed the cup and saucepan out at the sink, put out the light downstairs, and went up to bed. It would be lovely to have a real long sleep.

Poison in the Pen

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