The Mirror Crack'd from Side to Side mm-8 Page 4

  One of her greatest pictures had been Mary, Queen of Scots, and it was of her performance in that picture that Mrs Bantry was reminded now as she watched her. Mrs Bantry's eye switched to the husband. He too was watching Marina. Off guard for a moment, his face expressed clearly his feelings. 'Good Lord,' said Mrs Bantry to herself, 'the man adores her.'

  She didn't know why she should feel so surprised. Perhaps because film stars and their love affairs and their devotion were so written up in the Press, that one never expected to see the real thing with one's own eyes. On an impulse she said:

  'I do hope you'll enjoy it here and that you'll be able to stay here some time. Do you expect to have the house for long?'

  Marina opened wide surprised eyes as she turned her head. 'I want to stay here always,' she said. 'Oh, I don't mean that I shan't have to go away a lot. I shall, of course. There's possibility of making a film in North Africa next year although nothing's settled yet. No, but this will be my home. I shall come back here. I shall always be able to come back here.' She sighed. 'That's what's so wonderful. To have found a home at last.'

  'I see,' said Mrs Bantry, but at the same time she thought to herself, 'All the same I don't believe for a moment that it will be like that. I don't believe you're the kind that can ever settle down.'

  Again she shot a quick surreptitious glance at Jason Rudd. He was not scowling now. Instead he was smiling, a sudden very sweet and unexpected smile, but it was a sad smile. 'He knows it too,' thought Mrs Bantry.

  The door opened and a woman came in. ' Bartletts want you on the telephone, Jason,' she said.

  'Tell them to call back.'

  'They said it was urgent.'

  He sighed and rose. 'Let me introduce you to Mrs Bantry,' he said. 'Ella Zielinsky, my secretary.'

  'Have a cup of tea, Ella,' said Marina as Ella Zielinsky acknowledged the introduction with a smiling 'pleased to meet you.'

  'I'll have a sandwich,' said Ella. 'I don't go for China tea.'

  Ella Zielinsky was, at a guess, thirty-five. She wore a well cut suit, a ruffled blouse and appeared to breathe self-confidence. She had short-cut black hair and a wide forehead.

  'You used to live here, so they tell me,' she said to Mrs Bantry.

  'It's a good many years ago now,' said Mrs Bantry. 'After my husband's death I sold it and it's passed through several hands since then.'

  'Mrs Bantry really says she doesn't hate the things we've done to it,' said Marina.

  'I should be frightfully disappointed if you hadn't,' said Mrs Bantry. 'I came up here all agog. I can tell you the most splendid rumours have been going around the village.'

  'Never knew how difficult it was to get hold of plumbers in this country,' said Miss Zielinsky, champing a sandwich in a businesslike way. 'Not that that's been really my job,' she went on.

  'Everything is your job,' said Marina, 'and you know it is, Ella. The domestic staff and the plumbing and arguing with the builders.'

  'They don't seem ever to have heard of a picture window in this country.'

  Ella looked towards the window. 'It's a nice view, I must admit.'

  'A lovely old-fashioned rural English scene,' said Marina. 'This house has got atmosphere.'

  'It wouldn't look so rural if it wasn't for the trees,' said Ella Zielinsky. 'That housing estate down there grows while you look at it.'

  'That's new since my time,' said Mrs Bantry.

  'You mean there was nothing but the village when you lived here?'

  Mrs Bantry nodded.

  'It must have been hard to do your shopping.'

  'I don't think so,' said Mrs Bantry. 'I think it was frightfully easy.'

  'I understand having a flower garden,' said Ella Zielinsky, 'but you folk over here seem to grow all your vegetables as well. Wouldn't it be much easier to buy them – there's a supermarket?'

  'It's probably coming to that,' said Mrs Bantry, with a sigh. 'They don't taste the same, though.'

  'Don't spoil the atmosphere, Ella,' said Marina.

  The door opened and Jason looked in. 'Darling,' he said to Marina, 'I hate to bother you but would you mind? They just want your private view about this.'

  Marina sighed and rose. She trailed languidly towards the door. 'Always something,' she murmured. 'I'm so sorry, Mrs Bantry. I don't really think that this will take longer than a minute or two.'

  'Atmosphere,' said Ella Zielinsky, as Marina went out and closed the door. 'Do you think the house has got atmosphere?'

  'I can't say I ever thought of it that way,' said Mrs Bantry. 'It was just a house. Rather inconvenient in some ways and very nice and cosy in other ways.'

  'That's what I should have thought,' said Ella Zielinsky. She cast a quick direct look at Mrs Bantry. 'Talking of atmosphere, when did the murder take place here?'

  'No murder ever took place here,' said Mrs Bantry.

  'Oh come now. The stories I've heard. There are always stories, Mrs Bantry. On the hearthrug, right there, wasn't it?' said Miss Zielinsky nodding towards the fireplace.

  'Yes,' said Mrs Bantry. 'That was the place.'

  'So there was a murder?'

  Mrs Bantry shook her head. 'The murder didn't take place here. The girl who had been killed was brought here and planted in this room. She'd nothing to do with us.'

  Miss Zielinsky looked interested.

  'Possibly you had a bit of difficulty making people believe that?' she remarked.

  'You're quite right there,' said Mrs Bantry.

  'When did you find it?'

  'The housemaid came in in the morning,' said Mrs Bantry, 'with early morning tea. We had housemaids then, you know.'

  'I know,' said Miss Zielinksy, 'wearing print dresses that rustled.'

  'I'm not sure about the print dress,' said Mrs Bantry, 'it may have been overalls by then. At any rate, she burst in and said there was a body in the library. I said "nonsense", then I woke up my husband and we came down to see.'

  'And there it was,' said Miss Zielinsky. 'My, the way things happen.' She turned her head sharply towards the door and then back again. 'Don't talk about it to Miss Gregg, if you don't mind,' she said. 'It's not good for her, that sort of thing.'

  'Of course. I won't say a word,' said Mrs Bantry. 'I never do talk about it, as a matter of fact. It all happened so long ago. But won't she – Miss Gregg I mean – won't she hear it anyway?'

  'She doesn't come very much in contact with reality,' said Ella Zielinsky. 'Film stars can lead a fairly insulated life, you know. In fact very often one has to take care that they do. Things upset them. Things upset her. She's been seriously ill the last year or two, you know. She only started making a come-back a year ago.'

  'She seems to like the house,' said Mrs Bantry, 'and to feel she will be happy here.'

  'I expect it'll last a year or two,' said Ella Zielinsky.

  'Not longer than that?'

  'Well, I rather doubt it. Marina is one of those people, you know, who are always thinking they've found their heart's desire. But life isn't as easy as that, is it?'

  'No,' said Mrs Bantry forcefully, 'it isn't.'

  'It'll mean a lot to him if she's happy here,' said Miss Zielinsky. She ate two more sandwiches in an absorbed, rather gobbling fashion in the manner of one who crams food into themselves as though they had an important train to catch. 'He's a genius, you know,' she went on. 'Have you seen any of the pictures he's directed?'

  Mrs Bantry felt slightly embarrassed. She was of the type of woman who when she went to the cinema went entirely for the picture. The long lists of casts, directors, producers, photography and the rest of it passed her by. Very frequently, indeed, she did not even notice the names of the stars. She was not, however, anxious to call attention to this failing on her part.

  'I get mixed up,' she said.

  'Of course he's got a lot to contend with,' said Ella Zielinsky. 'He's got her as well as everything else and she's not easy. You've got to keep her happy, you see; and it's not really easy, I suppose
, to keep people happy. Unless – that is – they – they are -' she hesitated.

  'Unless they're the happy kind,' suggested Mrs Bantry, 'Some people,' she added thoughtfully, 'enjoy being miserable.'

  'Oh, Marina isn't like that,' said Ella Zielinsky, shaking her head. 'It's more that her ups and downs are so violent. You know – far too happy one moment, far too pleased with everything and delighted with everything and how wonderful she feels. Then of course some little thing happens and down she goes to the opposite extreme.'

  'I suppose that's temperament,' said Mrs Bantry vaguely.

  'That's right,' said Ella Zielinsky. 'Temperament. They've all got it, more or less, but Marina Gregg has got it more than most people. Don't we know it! The stories I could tell you!' She ate the last sandwich. 'Thank God I'm only the social secretary.'

  Chapter 5

  The throwing open of the grounds of Gossington Hall for the benefit of the St John Ambulance Association was attended by a quite unprecedented number of people. Shilling admission fees mounted up in a highly satisfactory fashion. For one thing, the weather was good, a clear sunny day. But the preponderant attraction was undoubtedly the enormous local curiosity to know exactly what these 'film people' had done to Gossington Hall. The most extravagant assumptions were entertained. The swimming pool in particular caused immense satisfaction. Most people's ideas of Hollywood stars were of sun-bathing by a pool in exotic surroundings and in exotic company. That the climate of Hollywood might be more suited to swimming pools than that of St Mary Mead failed to be considered. After all, England always has one fine hot week in the summer and there is always one day that the Sunday papers publish articles on How to Keep Cool, How to Have Cool Suppers and How to Make Cool Drinks. The pool was almost exactly what everyone had imagined it might be. It was large, its waters were blue, it had a kind of exotic pavilion for changing and was surrounded with a highly artificial plantation of hedges and shrubs. The reactions of the multitude were exactly as might have been expected and hovered over a wide range of remarks.

  'O-oh, isn't it lovely!'

  'Two penn'orth of splash here, all right?

  'Reminds me of that holiday camp I went to.'

  'Wicked luxury I call it. It oughtn't to be allowed.'

  'Look at all that fancy marble. It must have cost the earth!'

  'Don't see why these people think they can come over here and spend all the money they like.'

  'Perhaps this'll be on the telly sometime. That'll be fun.'

  Even Mr Sampson, the oldest man in St Mary Mead, boasting proudly of being ninety-six though his relations insisted firmly that he was only eighty-six, had staggered along supporting his rheumatic legs with a stick, to see this excitement. He gave it his highest praise: 'Ah, there'll be a lot of wickedness here, I don't doubt. Naked men and women drinking and smoking what they call in the papers them reefers. There'll be all that, I expect. Ah yes,' said Mr Sampson with enormous pleasure, 'there'll be a lot of wickedness.'

  It was felt that the final seal of approval had been set on the afternoon's entertainment. For an extra shilling people were allowed to go into the house, and study the new music room, the drawing-room, the completely unrecognizable dining-room, now done in dark oak and Spanish leather, and a few other joys.

  'Never think this was Gossington Hall, would you, now?' said Mr Sampson's daughter-in-law.

  Mrs Bantry strolled up fairly late and observed with pleasure that the money was coming in well and that the attendance was phenomenal.

  The large marquee in which tea was being served was jammed with people. Mrs Bantry hoped the buns were going to go round. There seemed some very competent women, however, in charge. She herself made a bee-line for the herbaceous border and regarded it with a jealous eye. No expense had been spared on the herbacous border, she was glad to note, and it was a proper herbaceous border, well planned and arranged and expensively stocked. No personal labours had gone into it, she was sure of that. Some good gardening firm had been given the contract, no doubt. But aided by carte blanche and the weather, they had turned out a very good job.

  Looking round her, she felt there was a faint flavour of a Buckingham Palace garden party about the scene. Everybody was craning to see all they could see, and from time to time a chosen few were led into one of the more secret recesses of the house. She herself was presently approached by a willowy young man with long wavy hair.

  'Mrs Bantry? You are Mrs Bantry?'

  'I'm Mrs Bantry, yes.'

  'Hailey Preston.' He shook hands with her. 'I work for Mr Rudd. Will you come up to the second floor? Mr and Mrs Rudd are asking a few special friends up there.'

  Duly honoured Mrs Bantry followed him. They went in through what had been called in her time the garden door. A red cord cordoned off the bottom of the main stairs. Hailey Preston unhooked it and she passed through. Just in front of her Mrs Bantry observed Councillor and Mrs Allcock. The latter who was stout was breathing heavily.

  'Wonderful what they've done, isn't it, Mrs Bantry?' panted Mrs Allcock. 'I'd like to have a look at the bathrooms, I must say, but I suppose I shan't get the chance.' Her voice was wistful.

  At the top of the stairs Marina Gregg and Jason Rudd were receiving this specially chosen élite. What had once been a spare bedroom had been thrown into the landing so as to make a wide lounge-like effect. Giuseppe the butler was officiating with drinks.

  A stout man in livery was announcing guests.

  'Councillor and Mrs Allcock,' he boomed.

  Marina Gregg was being, as Mrs Bantry had described her to Miss Marple, completely natural and charming. She could already hear Mrs Allcock saying later: '- and so unspoiled, you know, in spite of being so famous.'

  How very nice of Mrs Allcock to come, and the Councillor, and she did hope they'd enjoy their afternoon. 'Jason please look after Mrs Allcock.'

  Councillor and Mrs Allcock were passed on to Jason and drinks.

  'Oh, Mrs Bantry, it is nice of you to come.'

  'I wouldn't have missed it for the world,' said Mrs Bantry and moved on purposefully towards the Martinis.

  The young man called Hailey Preston ministered to her in a tender manner and then made off, consulting a little list in his hand, to fetch, no doubt, more of the Chosen to the Presence. It was all being managed very well, Mrs Bantry thought, turning, Martini in hand, to watch the next arrivals. The vicar, a lean, ascetic man, was looking vague and slightly bewildered. He said earnestly to Marina Gregg:

  'Very nice of you to ask me. I'm afraid, you know, I haven't got a television set myself, but of course I – er – I – well, of course my young people keep me up to the mark.'

  Nobody knew what he meant. Miss Zielinsky, who was also on duty, administered a lemonade to him with a kindly smile. Mr and Mrs Badcock were next up the stairs. Heather Badcock, flushed and triumphant, came a little ahead of her husband.

  'Mr and Mrs Badcock,' boomed the man in livery.

  'Mrs Badcock,' said the vicar, turning back, lemonade in his hand, 'the indefatigable secretary of the association. She's one of our hardest workers. In fact I don't know what the St John would do without her.'

  'I'm sure you've been wonderful,' said Marina.

  'You don't remember me?' said Heather, in an arch manner. 'How should you, with all the hundreds of people you meet. And anyway, it was years ago. In Bermuda of all places in the world. I was there with one of our ambulance units. Oh, it's a long time ago now.'

  'Of course,' said Marina Gregg, once more all charm and smiles.

  'I remember it all so well,' said Mrs Badcock, 'I was thrilled, you know, absolutely thrilled. I was only a girl at the time. To think there was a chance of seeing Marina Gregg in the flesh oh! I was a mad fan of yours always.'

  'It's too kind of you, really too kind of you,' said Marina sweetly, her eyes beginning to hover faintly over Heather's shoulder towards the next arrivals.

  'I'm not going to detain you,' said Heather – 'but I must -'

&nbs
p; 'Poor Marina Gregg,' said Mrs Bantry to herself. 'I suppose this kind of thing is always happening to her! The patience they need!'

  Heather was continuing in a determined manner with her story.

  Mrs Allcock breathed heavily at Mrs Bantry's shoulder.

  'The changes they've made here! You wouldn't believe till you saw for yourself. What it must have cost…'

  'I – didn't feel really ill – and I thought I just must -'

  'This is vodka,' Mrs Allcock regarded her glass suspiciously. 'Mr Rudd asked if I'd like to try it. Sounds very Russian. I don't think I like it very much…'

  '- I said to myself, I won't be beaten! I put a lot of makeup on my face -'

  'I suppose it would be rude if I just put it down somewhere.' Mrs Allcock sounded desperate.

  Mrs Bantry reassured her gently.

  'Not at all. Vodka ought really to be thrown straight down the throat' – Mrs Allcock looked startled – 'but that needs practice. Put it down on the table and get yourself a Martini from that tray the butler's carrying.'

  She turned back to hear Heather Badcock's triumphant peroration.

  'I've never forgotten how wonderful you were that day. It was a hundred times worth it.'

  Marina 's response was this time not so automatic. Her eyes which had wavered over Heather Badcock's shoulder, now seemed to be fixed on the wall midway up the stairs. She was staring and there was something so ghastly in her expression that Mrs Bantry half took a step forward. Was the woman going to faint? What on earth could she be seeing that gave her that basilisk look? But before she could reach Marina 's side the latter had recovered herself. Her eyes, vague and unfocussed, returned to Heather and the charm of manner was turned on once more, albeit a shade mechanically.

  'What a nice little story. Now, what will you have to drink? Jason! A cocktail?'

  'Well, really I usually have a lemonade or orange juice.'

  'You must have something better than that,' said Marina. 'This is a feast day, remember.'

  'Let me persuade you to an American daiquiri,' said Jason, appearing with a couple in his hand. 'They're Marina 's favourites, too.'