AgathaChristie-TheReggataMystery
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people had er the !bgether after dinner in the
evening. Afe tird day, Basil left the party
after ten' mjUtwSt°r,O and Mr. Parker Pyne was
left tte-li-t¢; ;; tV!rs' Chester.
They talg l-°.u! flowers and the growing of
them, of the.."-t, able state of the English pound
and of how ;csl.ve France had become, and of
the difficulff . gettlhg good afternoon tea
Every e4emng Wen her son departet, Mr.
Parker Pyle s. aw th% quickly concealed tremor of
her lips, got !mmeciately she recovered and dis-
PROBLEM AT POLLENSA BAY g5
coursed pleasantly on the above-mentioned subjects.
Little by little she began to talk of Basilwof
how well he had done at school--"he was in the
First XI, you know"--of how everyone liked him,
of how proud his father would have been of the
boy had he lived, of how thankful she had been
that Basil had never been "wild." "Of course I
always urge him to be with young people, but he
really seems to prefer being with me."
She said it with a kind of nice modest pleasure
in the fact.
But for once Mr. Parker Pyne did not make the
usual tactful response he could usually achieve so
easily. He said instead:
"Oh! well, there seem to be plenty of young
people here--not in the hotel, but roundabout."
At that, he noticed, Mrs. Chester stiffened. She
said: Of course there were a lot of Artists. Perhaps
she was very old-fashioned--real art, of course,
was different, but a lot of young people just made
that sort of thing an excuse for lounging about
and doing nothing--and the girls drank a lot too
much.
On the following day Basil said to Mr. Parker
Pyne:
"I'm awfully glad you turned up here, sir--especially
for my mother's sake. She likes having
you to talk to in the evenings."
"What did you do when you were first here?"
"As a matter of fact we used to play piquet." "I see."
"Of course one gets rather tired of piquet. As a
matter of fact I've got some friends hereto fright
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Agatha Christie
stayed. There was also'quite an artist colony living
all round. You could walk along by the sea to the
fishing village where there was a cocktail bar
where people met--there were a few shops. It was
all very peaceful and pleasant. Girls strolled about
in trousers with brightly colored handkerchiefs
tied round the upper halves of their bodies. Young
men in berets with rather long hair held forth in
"Mac's Bar" on such subjects as plastic values
and abstraction in art.
On the day after Mr. Parker Pyne's arrival,
Mrs. Chester made a few conventional remarks to
him on the subject of the view and the likelihood
of the weather keeping fine. She then chatted a
little with the German lady about knitting, and
had a few pleasant words about the sadness of the
political situation with two Danish gentlemen who
spent their time rising at dawn and walking for
eleven hours.
Mr. Parker Pyne found Basil Chester a most
likeable young man. He called Mr. Parker Pyne
"sir" and listened most politely to anything the
older man said. Sometimes the three English
people had coffee together after dinner in the
evening. After the third day, Basil left the party
after ten' minutes or so and Mr. Parker Pyne was
left tte-&-tte with Mrs. Chester.
They talked about flowers and the growing of
them, of the lamentable state of the English pound
and of how expensive France had become, and of
the difficulty of getting good afternoon tea.
Every evening when her son departed, Mr.
Parker Pyne saw the quickly concealed tremor of
her lips, but immediately she recovered and dis
PROBLEM AT POLLENSA BAY
85
coursed pleasantly on the above-mentioned subjects.
Little by little she began to talk of Basil--of
how well he had done at school--"he was in the
First XI, you know"--of how everyone liked him,
of how proud his father would have been of the
boy had he lived, of how thankful she had been
that Basil had never been "wild." "Of course I
always urge him to be with young people, but he
really seems to prefer being with me."
She said it with a kind of nice modest pleasure
in the fact.
But for once Mr. Parker Pyne did not make the
usual tactful response he could usually achieve so
easily. He said instead:
"Oh! well, there seem to be plenty of young
people here--not in the hotel, but roundabout."
At that, he noticed, Mrs. Chester stiffened. She
said: Of course there were a lot of Artists. Perhaps
she was very old-fashioned--real art, of course,
was different, but a lot of young people just made
that sort of thing an excuse for lounging about
and doing nothing--and the girls drank a lot too
much.
On the following day Basil said to Mr. Parker
Pyne:
"I'm awfully glad you turned up here, sir--especially
for my mother's sake. She likes having
you to talk to in the evenings."
"What did you do when you were first here?" "As a matter of fact we used to play piquet." "I see."
"Of course one gets rather tired of piquet. As a
matter of fact I've got some friends here-- fright
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Agatha Christie
fully cheery crowd. I don't really think my mother
approves of them--" He laughed as though he felt
this ought to be amusing. "The mater's very old-fashioned
.... Even girls in trousers shock her!"
" '
" '
r P n
Qmteso, sadMr. Parke y e.
"What I tell her s--one s got to move with the
times The
girls at home round us are frightfully
dull "
"I see," said Mr. Parker Pyne.
All
this interested him well enough· He was a
spectator of a miniature drama, but he was not
called upon to take part in it.
And then the worst--from Mr. Parker Pyne's
point of view--happened. A gushing lady of his
acquaintance came to stay at the Mariposa. They met in the tea shop in the presence of Mrs.
Chester.
The newcomer screamed:
"Why--if it isn't Mr. Parker Pyne--the one
and only Mr. Parker Pyne! And Adela Chester!
Do you know each other? Oh, you do? You're
staying at the same hotel? He's the one and only
original wizard, Adela--the marvel of the century-all
your troubles smoothed out while you
wait! What? Didn't you know? You must have heard about him? Haven't you read his advertisements? 'Are you in trouble? Consult Mr.
Parker Pyne.' There's just nothing he can't do.
Husbands and wives flying at each other's throats
and he brings 'em together--if you've lost interest
in life he giv
es you the most thrilling adventures.
As I say the man's just a wizard!"
It went on a good deal longer--Mr. Parker
Pyne at intervals making modest disclaimers. He
PROBLEM AT POLLENSA BAY
87
disliked the look that Mrs. Chester turned upon
him. He disliked even more seeing her return
along the beach in close confabulation with the
garrulous singer of his praises.
The climax came quicker than he expected. That
evening, after coffee, Mrs. Chester said abruptly,
"Will you come into the little salon, Mr. Pyne.
There is something I want to say to you."
He could but bow and submit.
Mrs. Chester's self-control had been wehring
thin--as the door of the little salon closed behind
them, it snapped. She sat down and burst into
tears.
"My boy, Mr. Parker Pyne. You must save
him. We must save him. It's breaking my heart!"
"My dear lady, as a mere outsider--"
"Nina Wycherley says you can do anything. She
said I was to have the utmost confidence in you.
She advised me to tell you everything--and that
you'd put the whole thing right."
Inwardly Mr. Parker Pyne cursed the obtrusive
Mrs. Wycherley.
Resigning himself he said:
"Well, let us thrash the matter out. A girl, I
suppose?"
"Did he tell you about her?"
"Only indirectly."
Words poured in a vehement stream from Mrs.
Chester. The girl was dreadful. She drank, she
swore--she wore no clothes to speak of. Her sister
lived out here--was married to an artist--a Dutch-man.
The whole set was most undesirable. Half of
them were living together without being married.
Basil was completely changed. He had always
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Agatha Christie
· .
.
been so quiet, so interested in serious subjects. H
had thought at one time of taking up archae
ology-''
"Well, well," said Mr. Parker Pyne. "Nature
will have her revenge."
"What do you mean?"
"It isn't healthy for a young man to be inter
ested in serious subjects· He ought to be making
'an idiot of himself over one girl after another."
"Please be serious, Mr. Pyne."
"I'm perfectly serious. Is the young lady, by
any chance, the one who had tea with you yester
day?''
He had noticed her--her gray flannel trousers
--the scarlet handkerchief tied loosely around her
breast--the vermilion mouth and the fact that she
had chosen a cocktail in preference to tea.
"You saw her? Terrible! Not the kind of girl
Basil has ever admired."
"You haven't given him much chance to admire
a girl, have you?"
"I?"
"He's been too fond of your company! Bad!
However, I daresay he'll get over this--if you
don't preciPitate matters."
"You don't understand. He wants to marry this
girl--Betty Gregg--they're engaged."
"It's gone as far as that?"
"Yes. Mr. Parker Pyne, you must do some
thing. You must get my boy out of this disastrous
marriage! His whole life will be ruined."
"Nobody's life can be ruined except by them
selves. ' '
"Basil's will be," said Mrs. Chester positively.
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89
"I'm not worrying about Basil."
"You're not worrying about the girl?"
"No, I'm worrying about you. You've been
squandering your birthright."
Mrs. Chester looked at him, slightly taken
aback.
"What are the years from twenty to forty?
Fettered and bound by personal and emotional
relationships. That's bound to be. That's living.
But later there's a new stage. You can think,
observe life, discover something about other
people and the truth about yourself. Life becomes
real--significant. You see it as a whole. Not just
one scene--the scene you, as an actor, are playing.
No man or woman is actually himself (or herselO
till after forty-five. That's when individuality has
a chance."
Mrs. Chester said:
"I've been wrapped up in Basil. He's been everything to me."
"Well, he shouldn't have been. That's what you're paying for now. Love him as much as you
likewbut you're Adela Chester, remember, a per-son--not
just Basil's mother."
"It will break my heart if Basil's life is ruined,"
said Basil's xnother.
He looked at the delicate lines of her face, the
wistful droop of her mouth. She was, somehow, a
lovable woman. He did not want her to be hurt.
He said:
I'll see what I can do."
He found Basil Chester only too ready to talk,
eager to urge his point of view.
"This business is being just hellish. Mother's
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Agatha Christie
hopeless--prejudiced, narrow-minded. If only
she'd let herself, she'd see how fine Betty is."
"And Betty?"
He sighed.
"Betty's being damned difficult! If she'd just
conform a bit--I mean leave off the lipstick for a
day--it might make all the difference. She seems
to go out of her way to be--well--modern--when
Mother's about."
Mr. Parker Pyne smiled.
"Betty and Mother are two of the dearest
people in the world, I should have thought they
would have taken to each other like hot cakes."
"You have a lot to learn, young man,'.' said Mr.
Parker Pyne.
"I wish you'd come along and see Betty and
have a good talk about it all."
Mr. Parker Pyne accepted the invitation read-ily.
Betty and her sister and her husband lived in a
small dilapidated villa a little way back from the
sea. Their life was of a refreshing simplicity. Their
furniture comprised three chairs, a table and beds.
There was a cupboard in the wall that held the
bare requirements of cups and plates. Hans was an
excitable young man with wild blond hair that
stood up all over his head. He spoke very odd
English with incredible rapidity, walking up and
down as he did so. Stella, his wife, was small and
fair. Betty Gregg had red hair and freckles and a
mischievous eye. She was, he noticed, not nearly
so made up as she had been the previous day at the
Pino d'Oro.
She gave him a cocktail and said with a twinkle:
PROBLEM AT POLLENSA BAY 91
"You're in on the big bust-up?"
Mr. Parker Pyne nodded.
"And whose side are you on, big boy? The
young lovers--or the disapproving dame?"
"May I ask you a question?"
"Certainly."
"Have you been very tactful over all this?"
"Not at all," said Miss Gregg frankly. "But the
old cat put mY back up" (she glanced round to
make sure that Basil was out of earshot). "That
woman just ma
kes me feel mad. She's kept Basil
tied to her apron strings all these years--that sort
of thing makes a man look a fool. Basil isn't a fool
really. Then she's so terribly pukka sahib."
"That's not really such a bad thing. It's merely
'unfashionable' just at present."
Betty Gregg gave a sudden twinkle.
"You mean it's like putting Chippendale chairs
in the attic in Victorian days? Later you get them
down again and say, 'Aren't they marvelous?'" "Something o if the kind."
Betty Gregg considered.
"Perhaps you're right. I'll be honest. It was
Basil who put my back up--being so anxious
about what impression I'd make on his mother. It
drove me to extremes. Even now I believe he might
give me up--if his mother worked on him good
and hard."
"He might," said Mr. Parker Pyne. "If she
went about it the right way."
"Are you going to tell her the right way? She
won't think of it herself, you know. She'll just go
on disapproving and that won't do the trick. But if
you prompted her--"
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Agatha Christie
She bit her lip--raised frank blue eyes to his.
"I've heard about you, Mr. Parker Pyne.
You're supposed to know something about human
nature. Do you think Basil and I could make a go
of it--or not?"
"I should like an answer to three questions."
"Suitability test? All right, go ahead."