A Daughter's a Daughter

by Agatha Christie, writing as Mary Westmacott

  ‘No, I must go. Tell Mrs Prentice the – er – original appointment stands – for tomorrow.’

  He nodded to Gerry and went out into the hall. From Sarah’s bedroom along the passage he could hear her voice talking in a rush of words to Edith.

  Better, he thought, not to stay now. His and Ann’s original plan had been the right one. She would tell Sarah tonight and tomorrow he would come to lunch and start to make friends with his future step-daughter.

  He was disturbed because Sarah was not as he had pictured her. He had thought of her as over-mothered by Ann, as dependent on Ann. Her beauty and her vitality and her self-possession had startled him.

  Up to now she had been a mere abstraction. Now she was reality.

  Chapter Six

  1

  Sarah came back into the drawing-room fastening up a brocaded house-gown.

  ‘I had to get out of that ski-ing suit. I really want a bath. How dirty trains are! Have you got a drink for me, Gerry?’

  ‘Here you are.’

  Sarah accepted the glass.

  ‘Thanks. Has that man gone? That’s a good job.’

  ‘Who was he?’

  ‘Never saw him in my life,’ said Sarah. She laughed. ‘He must be one of Mother’s pick-ups.’

  Edith came into the room to pull the curtains and Sarah said:

  ‘Who was he, Edith?’

  ‘A friend of your mother’s, Miss Sarah,’ said Edith.

  She gave the curtains a sharp pull and then went to the second window.

  Sarah said cheerfully: ‘Time I came home to choose her friends for her.’

  Edith said: ‘Ah,’ and pulled the second curtain. Then she said, looking hard at Sarah: ‘You didn’t take to him?’

  ‘No, I didn’t.’

  Edith muttered something and went out of the room.

  ‘What did she say, Gerry?’

  ‘I think she said it was a pity.’

  ‘How funny.’

  ‘Sounded cryptic.’

  ‘Oh, you know what Edith’s like. Why doesn’t Mother come? Why does she have to be so vague?’

  ‘She’s not usually very vague. At least, I shouldn’t have said so.’

  ‘It was nice of you to come and meet me, Gerry. Sorry I never wrote, but you know what life is. How did you manage to get off from the office early enough to get to Victoria?’

  There was a slight pause before Gerry said:

  ‘Oh, it wasn’t particularly difficult under the circumstances.’

  Sarah sat up in a very alert way and looked at him.

  ‘Now then, Gerry, out with it. What’s wrong?’

  ‘Nothing. At least, things haven’t worked out very well.’

  Sarah said accusingly: ‘You said you were going to be patient and keep your temper.’

  Gerry frowned.

  ‘I know all that, darling, but you’ve no idea what it’s been like. Good God, to come home from somewhere like Korea where it’s pretty fair hell, but at least most of the fellows are decent chaps, and then to get caught up in a money-grubbing City office. You’ve no idea what Uncle Luke is like. Fat and pursy with little darting eyes like a pig’s. “Very glad to have you home, me boy.”’ Gerry was a good mimic. He wheezed out the words in an unctuous asthmatic way. ‘“Er – ah – I hope now all this excitement’s over, you’ll come into the office and er – ah – really put your back into things. We’re – er – short-handed – I think I can say there are – er excellent prospects if you’re really serious over the job. Of course you’ll start at the bottom. No – er, favours – that’s my motto. You’ve had a long spell of playing around – now we’ll see if you can get down to it in earnest.’”

  He got up and strolled about.

  ‘Playing about – that’s what the fat so-and-so calls active service in the Army. My word, I’d like to see him sniped at by a yellow Chinese Red soldier. These rich bleeders sitting on their arses in their offices, never thinking of anything but money – going on –’

  ‘Oh, dry up, Gerry,’ said Sarah impatiently. ‘Your uncle just hasn’t got any imagination. Anyway, you said yourself you’ve got to have a job and make some money. I daresay it’s all very unpleasant, but what’s the alternative? You’re lucky really, to have a rich uncle in the City. Most people would give their eyes to have one!’

  ‘And why is he rich?’ demanded Gerry. ‘Because he’s rolling in the money that ought to have come to me. Why Great-uncle Harry left it to him instead of to my father who was the elder brother –’

  ‘Never mind all that,’ said Sarah. ‘Anyway, by the time the money had come to you, there probably wouldn’t have been any. It would all have gone in death duties.’

  ‘But it was unfair. You’ll admit that?’

  ‘Everything’s always unfair,’ said Sarah. ‘But it’s no good going on grousing about it. For one thing it makes you such a bore. One gets so tired of hearing nothing but people’s hard-luck stories.’

  ‘I must say you’re not awfully sympathetic, Sarah.’

  ‘No. You see what I believe in is absolute frankness. I think you ought either to make a gesture and get out of this job, or else stop grousing about it and just thank your stars you’ve got a rich uncle in the City with pig’s eyes and asthma. Hullo, I do believe I hear Mother at last.’

  Ann had just opened the door with her latch-key. She came running into the sitting-room.

  ‘Sarah darling.’

  ‘Mother – at last.’ Sarah enveloped her mother in a big hug. ‘What have you been doing with yourself?’

  ‘It’s my watch. It had stopped.’

  ‘Well, Gerry met me, so that was something.’

  ‘Oh hullo, Gerry, I didn’t see you.’

  Ann greeted him cheerfully, though inwardly she felt annoyed. She had so hoped that this Gerry business would peter out.

  ‘Let’s have a look at you, darling,’ said Sarah. ‘You’re looking quite smart. That’s a new hat, isn’t it? You look very well, Mother.’

  ‘So do you. And so sunburnt.’

  ‘Sun on the snow. Edith’s awfully disappointed I didn’t come home all swathed in bandages. You’d have liked me to have broken a few bones, wouldn’t you, Edith?’

  Edith, who was bringing in the tea-tray, made no direct reply.

  ‘I’ve brought in three cups,’ she said, ‘though I suppose Miss Sarah and Mr Lloyd won’t want any, seeing as they’ve been drinking gin.’

  ‘How dissipated you make it sound, Edith,’ said Sarah.

  ‘Anyway, we offered what’s-his-name some. Who is he, Mother? A name like Cauliflower.’

  Edith said to Ann: ‘Mr Cauldfield said as he couldn’t wait, ma’am. He’ll be along tomorrow as previously arranged.’

  ‘Who is Cauldfield, Mother, and why does he have to come tomorrow? I’m sure we don’t want him.’

  Ann said quickly: ‘Have another drink, won’t you, Gerry?’

  ‘No, thank you, Mrs Prentice. I really must be getting along now. Good-bye, Sarah.’

  Sarah went out with him into the hall. He said:

  ‘What about a film this evening? There’s a good continental one at the Academy.’

  ‘Oh, what fun. No – perhaps I’d better not. After all, it’s my first evening home. I think I ought to spend it with Mother. The poor pet might be disappointed if I rushed out at once.’

  ‘I do think, Sarah, that you’re a frightfully good daughter.’

  ‘Well, Mother’s really very sweet.’

  ‘Oh, I know she is.’

  ‘She asks a terrible lot of questions, of course. You know, who one’s met and what one’s done. But on the whole, for a mother, she’s really quite sensible. I tell you what, Gerry, if I find it’s all right, I’ll give you a ring later.’

  Sarah went back into the sitting-room and started to nibble cakes.

  ‘These are Edith’s specials,’ she remarked. ‘Madly rich. I don’t know how she gets hold of the stuff to make them with. Now, Mother, tell me all
you’ve been doing. Have you been out with Colonel Grant and the rest of the boy friends, and been having a good time?’

  ‘No – at least yes, in a way …’

  Ann stopped. Sarah stared at her.

  ‘Is anything the matter, Mother?’

  ‘The matter? No. Why?’

  ‘You look all queer.’

  ‘Do I?’

  ‘Mother, there is something. You really do look awfully peculiar. Come on, tell me. I’ve never seen such a guilty expression. Come on, Mother, what have you been up to?’

  ‘Nothing really – at least. Oh, Sarah, darling – you must believe that it won’t make any difference. Everything will be just the same, only –’

  Ann’s voice faltered and died. ‘What a coward I am,’ she thought to herself. ‘Why does a daughter make you feel so shy about things?’

  Meanwhile Sarah was staring at her. Suddenly she began to grin in the friendliest fashion.

  ‘I do believe … Come on, Mother, own up. Are you trying to break it to me gently that I’m going to have a step-papa?’

  ‘Oh, Sarah.’ Ann gave a gasp of relief. ‘How did you guess?’

  ‘It wasn’t so difficult as all that. I never saw anyone in such a frightful dither. Did you think I’d mind?’

  ‘I suppose I did. And you don’t? Really?’

  ‘No,’ said Sarah seriously. ‘Actually I think you’re quite right. After all, Father died sixteen years ago. You ought to have some kind of sex life before it’s too late. You’re just at what they call the dangerous age. And you’re much too old-fashioned to have just an affair.’

  Ann looked rather helplessly at her daughter. She was thinking how differently everything was going from the way she had thought it would go.

  ‘Yes,’ said Sarah, nodding her head. ‘With you it has to be marriage.’

  ‘The dear absurd baby,’ thought Ann, but was careful to say nothing of the kind.

  ‘You’re really quite good-looking still,’ went on Sarah with the devastating candour of youth. ‘That’s because you’ve got a good skin. But you’d look heaps nicer if you’d have your eyebrows plucked.’

  ‘I like my eyebrows,’ said Ann obstinately.

  ‘You’re really awfully attractive, darling,’ said Sarah. ‘I’m really surprised you haven’t got off before. Who is it, by the way? I’ll have three guesses. One, Colonel Grant, two Professor Fane, three that melancholy Pole with the unpronounceable name. But I’m pretty sure it’s Colonel Grant. He’s been hammering away at you for years.’

  Ann said rather breathlessly:

  ‘It isn’t James Grant. It’s – it’s Richard Cauldfield.’

  ‘Who’s Richard Cauld – Mother, not that man who was here just now?’

  Ann nodded.

  ‘But you can’t, Mother. He’s all pompous and dreadful.’

  ‘He’s not dreadful at all,’ said Ann sharply.

  ‘Really, Mother, you could do a lot better than that.’

  ‘Sarah, you don’t know what you’re talking about. I – I care for him very much.’

  ‘You mean you’re in love with him?’ Sarah was frankly incredulous. ‘You mean you’ve actually got a passion for him.’

  Again Ann nodded.

  ‘You know,’ said Sarah, ‘I really can’t take all this in.’

  Ann straightened her shoulders.

  ‘You only saw Richard for a moment or two,’ she said. ‘When you know him better, I’m sure you’ll like him very much.’

  ‘He looks so aggressive.’

  ‘That was because he was shy.’

  ‘Well,’ said Sarah slowly, ‘it’s your funeral, of course.’

  Mother and daughter sat silent for some moments. They were both embarrassed.

  ‘You know, Mother,’ said Sarah, breaking the silence, ‘you really do need someone to look after you. Just because I go away for a few weeks, you go and do something silly.’

  ‘Sarah!’ Anger flared up in Ann. ‘You’re very unkind.’

  ‘Sorry, darling, but I do believe in absolute frankness.’

  ‘Well, I don’t think I do.’

  ‘How long has this been going on?’ demanded Sarah.

  In spite of herself Ann laughed.

  ‘Really, Sarah, you sound just like a heavy father in some Victorian drama. I met Richard three weeks ago.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘With James Grant. James has known him for years. He’s just come back from Burma.’

  ‘Has he got any money?’

  Ann was both irritated and touched. How ridiculous the child was – so earnest in her questions. Controlling her irritation she said in a dry ironical voice:

  ‘He has an independent income and is fully able to support me. He has a job with Hellner Bros., a big firm in the City. Really, Sarah, anyone would think that I was your daughter, not the other way about.’

  Sarah said seriously: ‘Well, somebody has got to look after you, darling. You’re quite unfit to look after yourself. I’m very fond of you, and I don’t want you to go and do something foolish. Is he a bachelor or divorced or a widower?’

  ‘He lost his wife many years ago. She died having her first baby and the baby died too.’

  Sarah sighed and shook her head.

  ‘I see it all now. That’s how he got at you. You always fall for sob stuff.’

  ‘Do stop being absurd, Sarah!’

  ‘Has he got sisters and a mother – all that sort of thing?’

  ‘I don’t think he’s got any near relations.’

  ‘That’s a blessing anyway. Has he got a house? Where are you going to live?’

  ‘Here, I think. There’s heaps of room and his work is in London. You won’t really mind, will you, Sarah?’

  ‘Oh, I shan’t mind. I’m thinking entirely of you.’

  ‘Darling, it’s very sweet of you. But I really do know my own business best. I’m quite sure that Richard and I are going to be very happy together.’

  ‘When are you thinking of actually getting married?’

  ‘In three weeks’ time.’

  ‘In three weeks? Oh, you can’t marry him as soon as that.’

  ‘There doesn’t seem any point in waiting.’

  ‘Oh please, darling. Do put it off a little. Give me a little time to – to get used to the idea. Please, Mother.’

  ‘I don’t know … we’ll have to see …’

  ‘Six weeks. Make it six weeks.’

  ‘Nothing’s really decided yet. Richard’s coming to lunch tomorrow. You – Sarah – you will be nice to him, won’t you?’

  ‘Of course I shall be nice to him. What do you think?’

  ‘Thank you, darling.’

  ‘Cheer up, Mother, there’s nothing to worry about.’

  ‘I’m sure you’ll really both get very fond of each other,’ said Ann, rather weakly.

  Sarah was silent.

  Ann said, again with that gust of sudden anger:

  ‘You might at least try –’

  ‘I’ve told you you needn’t worry.’ Sarah added after a moment or two: ‘I suppose you’d rather I stopped in tonight?’

  ‘Why? Do you want to go out?’

  ‘I thought I might – but I don’t want to leave you alone, Mother.’

  Ann smiled at her daughter, the old relationship reasserting its sway.

  ‘Oh, I shan’t be lonely. As a matter of fact, Laura asked me to go to a lecture –’

  ‘How is the old battle-axe? As indefatigable as ever?’

  ‘Oh yes, just the same. I said no to the lecture, but I can easily ring her up.’

  She could, just as easily, ring Richard up … But her mind shied away from the prospect. Better keep away from Richard until after he and Sarah had met on the morrow.

  ‘That’s all right, then,’ said Sarah. ‘I’ll ring up Gerry.’

  ‘Oh, is it Gerry you’re going out with?’

  Sarah said, rather defiantly:

  ‘Yes. Why not?’

 
; But Ann did not take up the challenge. She said mildly:

  ‘I just wondered …’

  Chapter Seven

  1

  ‘Gerry?’

  ‘Yes, Sarah?’

  ‘I don’t really want to see this film. Can we go somewhere and talk?’

  ‘Of course. Shall we go and have something to eat?’

  ‘Oh, I couldn’t. Edith has absolutely stuffed me.’

  ‘We’ll go and get a drink somewhere then.’

  He cast a swift glance at her, wondering what had upset her. It was not until they were settled with drinks in front of them that Sarah spoke. Then she plunged abruptly:

  ‘Gerry, Mother’s getting married again.’

  ‘Whew!’ He was genuinely surprised.

  ‘Hadn’t you any idea of it?’ he asked.

  ‘How could I? She only met him since I’ve been away.’

  ‘Quick work.’

  ‘Much too quick. In some ways Mother has really no sense at all!’

  ‘Who is it?’

  ‘That man who was there this afternoon. His name’s Cauliflower or something like that.’

  ‘Oh, that man.’

  ‘Yes. Don’t you agree that he’s really quite impossible?’

  ‘Well, I didn’t really notice him much,’ said Gerry, considering. ‘He seemed quite an ordinary sort of chap.’

  ‘He’s absolutely the wrong person for Mother.’

  ‘I suppose she’s the best judge of that,’ said Gerry mildly.

  ‘No, she isn’t. The trouble about Mother is that she’s weak. She gets sorry for people. Mother needs somebody to look after her.’

  ‘Apparently she thinks so too,’ said Gerry with a grin.

  ‘Don’t laugh, Gerry, this is serious. Cauliflower is the wrong type for Mother.’

  ‘Well, that’s her business.’

  ‘I’ve got to look after her. I’ve always felt that. I know much more about life than she does, and I’m twice as tough.’

  Gerry did not dispute the statement. On the whole he agreed with it. Nevertheless he was troubled.

  He said slowly: ‘All the same, Sarah, if she wants to get married again –’

  Sarah broke in quickly:

  ‘Oh, I quite agree to that. Mother ought to marry again. I told her so. She’s been starved, you know, of a proper sex life. But definitely not Cauliflower.’