Agatha Christie's Secret Notebooks

Home > Other > Agatha Christie's Secret Notebooks > Page 29
Agatha Christie's Secret Notebooks Page 29

by John Curran


  D. Tea with Miss Emily—big raw-boned dragon looks after her [Chapter 7 iv]

  E. Vicar? His wife—vague—slightly bats? Hits nail on head—poor Aimee very unhappy woman [Chapter 5 i]

  F. Institute? Someone typing—J goes in—finds Aimee who ‘heard’ someone leave [Chapter 10 ii]

  G. J going off to sleep ‘No S[moke] W[ithout] F[ire]’—smoke—smoke screen—War—‘scrap of paper’ Nurse told him as little boy—etc [Chapter 8 i]

  H. Spiteful rumour about—Elsie means to be No. 2 [Chapter 9 ii]

  I. The posted letters—Aimee’s written at Institute—one of them is IT—substituted—(did she drop them and pick them up in High St.—S[ymmington] there) (E[mily] B[arton] at Institute too) [Chapter 13 ii]

  As can be seen, the order changed considerably—the mutilated book of sermons (scene A) is not discovered until Chapter 9—and the scenes are scattered through the book. Scene C is an ingenious twist on the person who ‘knows something’ and then becomes the next victim. Here, instead of knowing or seeing something dangerous to the killer, the maid ‘knows something’ because she saw nothing. It is the fact that she saw nothing when she should actually have seen something that seals her fate.

  The Moving Finger is another title that Christie considered dramatising. Notebook 45 consists of rough preliminary notes including a list of the characters of the novel and tentative settings. But the novel is very ‘mobile’, with many scenes set in the streets and houses of Lymstock. The multiple potential settings, as shown by the note below, created immediate problems in devising a successful dramatisation of this title:

  Scene?

  Maisonette or divided house?

  Garden of same used by both

  Room in police station

  Symmington’s house

  The Hollow

  25 November 1946

  I hate the dreadful hollow behind the little wood Its lips in the field above are dabbled with blood red heath, The red ribb’d ledges drip with a silent horror of blood And Echo there, whatever is ask‘d her, answers ‘Death’.

  Tennyson, Maud

  Poirot is not amused by the scene at the swimming pool—the sprawled man and the woman with the revolver standing over him. He assumes that it has been arranged for his benefit until he realises that it is not a tableau and that he is looking at a dying man…

  Poirot quotes the Tennyson poem in Chapter 18 and although it is more blood-drenched than the novel, Henrietta sees the relevant symbolism. Interestingly, the last line of the poem also appears in Notebook 3 in an entry dated October 1972, when Christie was planning what was—to be her final novel.

  The very earliest glimmering of the plot of The Hollow can be seen in a throwaway line in Notebook 13—‘Poirot asks to go down to country—finds a house and various fantastic details’—hidden among an A-Z list of other ideas. The very fact of Poirot going ‘down to country’ is the first clue but the fantastic details are the elements of the tableau that greets him when he calls to The Hollow—the dying man sprawled by the swimming pool, the blood dripping into the pool itself, the woman standing over him holding the revolver, and the other onlookers in the drama, one holding a basket of eggs and another holding a basket of dahlia heads.

  Described in somewhat unexciting terms on the original blurb as ‘a human story about human people’, The Hollow is almost a Mary Westmacott title. It resembles a ‘straight’ novel more than a detective story and, indeed, has less in the way of clues and detection than almost any other Poirot title. In an article for the Ministry of Information in 1945 Christie wrote: ‘Naturally one’s methods alter. I have been more interested as the years go by in the preliminaries of crime. The interplay of character upon character, the deep smouldering resentments and dissatisfactions that do not always come to the surface but which may suddenly explode into violence.’ This is the template of The Hollow—a weekend of smouldering and complicated emotions erupting into murder. The character drawing in this novel is the most searching she has done to date. Five Little Pigs and Sad Cypress paved the way but in The Hollow, her powers of characterisation reached full flower to the detriment, unfortunately, of the detective plot. Five Little Pigs is the most perfect example of the marrying of the two, Sad Cypress still has a distinct detective plot with clues and alibis; but in The Hollow, the detection is minimal and Poirot is almost surplus to requirements.

  When, some years later, Christie came to dramatise The Hollow for the stage, she dropped Hercule Poirot from it. And it is difficult not to agree with this decision. Of all his cases, he does not fit in here. It is inconceivable that he would have bought a house in the country and at no subsequent time is it even mentioned. And as this case involves little in the way of physical clues, he is almost entirely dependent on the characters. When Christie says in her Autobiography that he doesn’t fit, she is quite right. It was probably pressure from her publishers that caused her to insert him into this milieu; he hadn’t appeared in a novel since Five Little Pigs, three years earlier. He doesn’t enter the novel until almost 100 pages into it and, even more peculiarly, his French idioms are almost completely absent. Also dropped from the stage version is the character David Angkatell, who is completely superfluous and whose absence from the novel would have had no adverse effect either.

  The notes in Notebook 13 are preceded by Death Comes as the End and followed by Taken at the Flood, a sequence reflected in the order of publication. The first point of interest in Notebook 13 is the fact that two alternate titles were under consideration for The Hollow. Both of them reflect elements of the finished novel. The events take place over what proves, indeed, to be a tragic weekend and the poignant memories of happier early days—a motif that runs throughout the novel—dominate the lives of many of the characters:

  Tragic Weekend

  Return Journey

  Elizabeth Savarnake [Henrietta]

  Lucy Angkatell

  Gwenda—her niece [Midge]

  John Christow/Ridgeway

  Gerda Ridgeway

  Veronica Cray

  Edward

  Henry Angkatell

  Lady Angkatell in early morning—Gwenda—poor Gerda etc [Chapter I]

  H.P. next door

  The Hollow features strong echoes of Greenway in the descriptions of Ainswick, the Angkatell family home that dominates both the book and the lives of many of the characters. It is described in Chapter 18 as ‘the white graceful house, the big magnolia growing up it, the whole set in an amphitheatre of wooded hills’; and in Chapter 6: ‘the final turn in through the gate and up through the woods till you came out into the open and there the house was—big and white and welcoming’.

  Note that the niece’s name, Gwenda, was abandoned (perhaps because of its similarity to Gerda) in favour of Midge. But it is also possible that there is a connection with Gwenda from Sleeping Murder, in view of the new timeline for the writing of that novel (see Chapter 7). And the alternative that was considered for (Dr) John Christow’s name, Ridgeway, was to become the name of the disease on which he was working.

  The salient elements of the plot are succinctly captured in a half-dozen pages of Notebook 13:

  John at consulting desk—gear changing—annoyance with G.—E. and her wonderful knack with cars

  E. in studio

  Edward—his nervousness—sly, clever creature

  Points

  Gerda in straightforward fashion because discovers liaison of John

  Lady A—sheer vagueness

  Edward—in love with Eliz.

  Eliz. [Henrietta]—very cleverly tries to shield G

  Bit of clay pointing to herself

  Ends by Gerda trying to kill Eliz.

  More practical details are teased out in Notebook 31:

  Now strict mechanics

  G. takes revolvers—shoots John—puts revolver in knitting bag—or puts revolver in fox cape and purse down below settee. Henrietta finds it—puts it back in collection

  Inspector come
s to Sir Henry—asks about revolver. Is another missing?

  Sir H. stalls—finally says it is

  Was it in a holster?

  Yes

  Holster found in road near V’s cottage—in bush?

  Gerda takes out 2 revolvers—shoots him with one puts holster in V’s fur then shoots him—drops it in knitting bag and other by John’s body or follows John to cottage—drops holster—comes back after him to pool—shoots him—back at home hides revolver?

  Recovers it at inquest? Gudgeon takes revolver from eggs—puts it in study

  Henrietta does indeed try to shield Gerda, although she doesn’t resort to the piece-of-clay gambit. Nor is there an attempt to incriminate Veronica Cray by placing the gun in her fur cape, although in the stage adaptation the gun is found in Veronica’s handbag. With her customary fertility of invention, Christie sketches a few possible scenarios for the disposal of the incriminating gun and holster, elements from each of which—the two revolvers, Sir Henry’s missing revolver, Gudgeon and the eggs—she subsumed into the novel.

  Christie introduces, in Notebook 32, an already reordered alphabetical sequence (but without, for some reason, any F, G or I) although it is not followed exactly in the novel. Note that here she is referring to the story as ‘Echo’, reflecting the last line of the Tennyson quotation:

  End of Echo

  H.P. on seat around pool—Inspector’s men crashing about—Grant comes to him—making a monkey of him

  A. Must find pistol fired just before—Mrs. C no time to hide it—must have hidden it near [Chapter 26]

  B. All of them with motive—Lady A and David—Edmund and Henrietta. P. says solution—away not towards— from not to. G[rant] says sometimes I think they all know—P says They do know. [Chapter 26]

  C. Lady A—about truth—would be satisfied [Chapter 27] H. Midge breaks off engagement [Chapter 27]

  D. P. at home—Inspector—they find pistol [Chapter 26]

  E. Midge and Edward and gas [Chapter 28]

  J. P and Henrietta find leather holster [Chapter 29]

  Taken at the Flood

  12 November 1948

  There is a tide in the affairs of men, Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune…

  Shakespeare, Julius Caesar

  Gordon Cloade is killed in an air raid and his new young wife, Rosaleen, inherits a fortune. When a mysterious death brings Hercule Poirot to Warmsley Vale he realises that the Cloade family, badly in need of money, has good reason to kill her. So why was it not Rosaleen who died?

  Taken at the Flood was another novel (like Four-Fifty from Paddington and Ordeal by Innocence) whose title gave trouble. The original suggestions were The Incoming Tide or There is a Tide, until it was discovered that the new Taylor Caldwell novel was called There is a Time. This probably explains why not once, in the course of 30 pages of notes, scattered across 13 Notebooks, is the title Taken at the Flood (or its eventual US equivalent There is a Tide) mentioned. In the body of the novel the quotation appears in Book II, Chapter 16. In fact, the genesis of the title and, indeed, the book itself, is far more complicated. In a letter dated September 1947 Christie’s agent refers to a ‘revised’ version of Taken at the Flood and the ‘marvellous job in altering it’. This tantalising reference must remain a mystery, as there is nothing in either the Notebooks or the surviving correspondence to clarify it.

  The plot of Taken at the Flood is one of Christie’s most intricate. To begin with, none of the deaths are as they initially seem. The first death, presumed a murder, is an accident; the second, presumed a suicide, is in fact a suicide (although seasoned Christie readers will suspect murder); and the third, presumed suicide, is a murder. This combination of explanations is unique in the Christie output.

  What’s more, both Frances and Rowley Cloade, independently of each other, complicate the real killer’s plan with sub-plots of their own, each of which ends with the violent death of their co-conspirators. Then there is confusion about the identity of the first corpse. Is he Enoch Arden? Is Robert Underhay still alive? Is he the man found dead in the Blue Boar? And if he isn’t, who is that corpse? This plot device is shared, brilliantly, in One, Two Buckle my Shoe, and much less successfully in Four-Fifty from Paddington.

  Some of this complexity is mirrored in the notes, due mainly to the fact that they are intertwined for much of the time with those for They Do It with Mirrors and Sleeping Murder. In the notes, the working title for Taken at the Flood hovered between ‘Cover Her Face’, the one-time title for Sleeping Murder, and ‘Mirrors’, shorthand for They Do It with Mirrors. Each is used three times but in all cases with the character names and plot of Taken at the Flood. It is worth remembering that none of the three titles is very specific; all could, with minimal tweaking, apply to any Christie title, whereas titles such as Murder on the Orient Express or Lord Edgware Dies are precise and could not be considered interchangeable.

  In the opening pages of Notebooks 19 and 30 we find the genesis of the Cloade family situation:

  Cover her Face

  Characters

  The Cloades

  Nathaniel—solicitor—embezzling money [Jeremy]

  Frances—His wife daughter of- Lord Edward Hatherly father Lady Angarethick—says her family are all crooks

  Jeremy—ex-pilot—lawless—daring [probably the origin of

  David Hunter]

  Jane Brown—Girl of character engaged to Jeremy? [Lynn]

  Susan Cloade—(or a widow?) Cool—discerning [Adela or Katherine]

  Rosaleen Hunter

  Nathaniel Clode

  Frances Clode—(aristocratic wife)

  Susan Ridgeway

  A Cloade—war widow—breeds dogs

  As usual, however, names were to change. The example above, from Notebook 30, is the only use of the name ‘Rosaleen’ anywhere in the notes and it is used with her Hunter, rather than Cloade, surname. Throughout the Notebooks she is referred to as Lena, itself a diminution of Rosaleen. The ‘Cloade war widow’ who breeds dogs may have been inspired by Christie’s own daughter Rosalind, a devoted dog lover and breeder, whose first husband, Hubert Prichard, perished in the war.

  Notebook 13 illustrates Christie’s frequently adopted alphabetical system:

  A. Mrs. Marchmont asks Lena for money—(gets it?) [Book I Chapter 5]

  B. Frances asks—David interrupts—her reaction—for the moment he feels afraid

  David and Lena look out of window—sees Lynn. Lena sees too?

  He goes off- interview with Lynn—then him and Lena again [Book I Chapter 6]

  C. Hercule Poirot—Aunt Kathie—spirit guidance [Prologue]

  D. The farm—Lena and Rowley—he looks at it just as he looks at her—(planning its death?) she goes away—stranger comes—asks way to (?) Furrowtown—goes passed it—face is familiar to Rowley [Book I Chapter 8]

  E. Rowley goes up to White Hart—Beatrice the barmaid photo of L. and Edmund—Frances and Jeremy—photo—to get H.P’s address [Book I Chapters 11 and 12]

  F. David reading letter—get your things packed—go up to London—stay there—I’ll deal with this [Book I Chapter 10]

  G. David and E.A.—veiled blackmail—D. says get out of here [Book I Chapter 9]

  H. Where is money to be paid? London? Tube? Poirot—seat? etc.—Bessie overhears (David goes to London—to see Lena Tube—Rowley in crowd) [not used]

  I. Rowley visits Poirot—urges him to come to Warmsley Heath [Book II Chapter 1]

  J. Death of E.A.—David suspected—arrested?—button in dead man’s hand [Book II Chapter 5]

  K. Lena and the Church [Book II Chapter 6]

  L. Poirot and Lynn—people much the same—don’t change [Book II Chapter 12]

  Although most of these, slightly rearranged, appear in the published novel, there are a number of minor differences: scene H does not feature at all; Furrowtown in scene D becomes Furrowbank in the book; it is not a button (scene J) that is found in the room but a cigarette lighter with the
initials DH; and scene C in the novel precedes much of the action.

  Rosaleen’s religion, apart from being a major factor in her personality, is also an important plot device. Her Roman Catholicism, and its attendant guilt, haunts all of her conversation with David. Read again their scenes in light of the solution and much of the dialogue takes on a different meaning. And it is the scene at the church that gives Poirot one of his clues:

  Lena—depressed—says—very worried I’ve been—wants to see priest—asks him—doesn’t go to confession

  Priest—Lena—(or clergyman) Go to confession—I’m in mortal sin

  Lena gets conscience—her letter—planning of death wickedness—I want to make what reparation I can

  Girl and R[oman] C[atholic] church—P sees her

  Taken at the Flood is another novel for which quite a few intriguing ideas were rejected:

  Lena in London—D. telephones her—goes to station—sees station master—Swings out of express as it leaves—returns to White Hart though window—Knifes E.A.—leaves as clue something he has already missed (lighter?)—goes to call box

  L. telephones Anne 9.18

  D. “ “ “ (London wants you)

  Here we see the set-up of the faked telephone call that establishes Hunter’s alibi. But he doesn’t knife ‘E.A.’ (Enoch Arden) as he finds him already dead from a head wound when he gets there. For much of the notes, meanwhile, Rowley is the villain:

  Rowley arranges L’s suicide (in London) has to go to see a bull etc

  Does Rowley play the part of Underhay in London—with Lena

  While he is not indictable at the end of the novel, Rowley does have two deaths on his conscience. But his playing the part of Underhay in London could be seen as a complication too far. Another suggestion was that Rowley and Frances should work together:

  Rowley—jealous of David—has plans—he and Frances agree to blackmail—but Rowley’s idea is to inherit—so Lena must die

 

‹ Prev