Endless Night

Endless Night by Agatha Christie Read Free Book Online Page A

Book: Endless Night by Agatha Christie Read Free Book Online
Authors: Agatha Christie
now. What is it, Micky? Is it a girl?”
    “Why should you think it's a girl?”
    “I've always known it would happen some day.”
    “What do you mean by 'some day'? I've had lots of girls.”
    “Not the way I mean. It's only been the way of a young man with nothing to do. You've kept your hand in with girls but you've never been really serious till now.”
    “But you think I'm serious now?”
    “Is it a girl, Micky?”
    I didn't meet her eyes. I looked away and said, “In a way.”
    “What kind of a girl is she?”
    “The right kind for me,” I said.
    “Are you going to bring her to see me?”
    “No,” I said.
    “It's like that, is it?”
    “No, it isn't. I don't want to hurt your feelings but -”
    “You're not hurting my feelings. You don't want me to see her in case I should say to you 'Don't'. Is that it?”
    “I wouldn't pay any attention if you did.”
    “Maybe not, but it would shake you. It would shake you somewhere inside because you take notice of what I say and think. There are things I've guessed about you, and maybe I've guessed right and you know it. I'm the only person in the world who can shake your confidence in yourself. Is this girl a bad lot who's got hold of you?”
    “Bad lot?” I said and laughed. “If you only saw her! You make me laugh.”
    “What do you want from me? You want something. You always do.”
    “I want some money,” I said.
    “You won't get it from me. What do you want it for - to spend on this girl?”
    “No,” I said, “I want to buy a first-class suit to get married.”
    “You're going to marry her?”
    “If she'll have me.”
    That shook her.
    “If you'd only tell me something!” she said. “You've got it badly, I can see that. It's the thing I always feared, that you'd choose the wrong girl.”
    “Wrong girl! Hell!” I shouted. I was angry.
    I went out of the house and I banged the door.

Endless Night

Chapter 7
    When I got home there was a telegram waiting for me - it had been sent from Antibes.
    Meet me tomorrow four-thirty usual place.
    Ellie was different. I saw it at once. We met as always in Regent's Park and at first we were a bit strange and awkward with each other. I had something I was going to say to her and I was in a bit of a state as to how to put it. I suppose any man is when he comes to the point of proposing marriage.
    And she was strange about something too. Perhaps she was considering the nicest and kindest way of saying No to me. But somehow I didn't think that. My whole belief in life was based on the fact that Ellie loved me. But there was a new independence about her, a new confidence in herself which I could hardly feel was simply because she was a year older. One more birthday can't make that difference to a girl. She and her family had been in the South of France and she told me a little about it. And then rather shyly she said:
    “I - I saw that house there, the one you told me about. The one that architect friend of yours had built.”
    “What - Santonix?”
    “Yes. We went there to lunch one day.”
    "How did you do that? Does your stepmother know the
    man who lives there?"
    “Dmitri Constantine? Well - not exactly but she met him and - well - Greta fixed it up for us to go there as a matter of fact.”
    “Greta again,” I said, allowing the usual exasperation to come into my voice.
    “I told you,” she said, “Greta is very good at arranging things.”
    “Oh all right. So she arranged that you and your step-mother -”
    “And Uncle Frank,” said Ellie.
    “Quite a family party,” I said, “and Greta too, I suppose.”
    “Well, no, Greta didn't come because, well -” Ellie hesitated, “- Cora, my stepmother, doesn't treat Greta exactly like that.”
    “She's not one of the family, she's a poor relation, is she?” I said. “Just the au pair girl, in fact. Greta must resent being treated that way sometimes.”
    “She's not an au pair girl, she's a kind of companion to me.”
    “A chaperon,” I said,

Similar Books

Alphas - Origins

Ilona Andrews

Poppy Shakespeare

Clare Allan

Designer Knockoff

Ellen Byerrum

MacAlister's Hope

Laurin Wittig

The Singer of All Songs

Kate Constable