Unfinished Portrait

Home > Other > Unfinished Portrait > Page 26
Unfinished Portrait Page 26

by Christie, writing as Mary Westmacott, Agatha


  ‘I was stupid. I lived in a world of my own. Yes, I was stupid.’

  3 Flight

  1

  ‘And since?’ I asked Celia. ‘What have you done since? That’s some time ago.’

  ‘Yes, ten years. Well, I’ve travelled. I’ve seen the places I’ve wanted to see. I’ve made a lot of friends. I’ve had adventures. I think, really, I’ve enjoyed myself quite a lot.’

  She seemed rather hazy about it all.

  ‘There were Judy’s holidays, of course. I always felt guilty with Judy … I think she knew I did. She never said anything, but I thought that, secretly, she blamed me for the loss of her father … And there, of course, she was right. She said once: “It was you Daddy didn’t like. He was fond of me.” I failed her. A mother ought to keep a child’s father fond of her. That’s part of a mother’s job. I hadn’t. Judy was unconsciously cruel sometimes, but she did me good. She was so uncompromisingly honest.

  ‘I don’t know whether I’ve failed with Judy or succeeded. I don’t know whether she loves me or doesn’t love me. I’ve given her material things. I haven’t been able to give her the other things – the things that matter to me – because she doesn’t want them. I’ve done the only other thing I could. Because I love her, I’ve let her alone. I haven’t tried to force my views and my beliefs upon her. I’ve tried to make her feel I’m there if she wants me. But, you see, she didn’t want me. The kind of person I am is no good to the kind of person she is – except, as I said before, for material things … I love her, just as I loved Dermot, but I don’t understand her. I’ve tried to leave her free, but at the same time not to give in to her out of cowardice … Whether I’ve been any use to her I shall never know. I hope I have – oh, how I hope I have … I love her so …’

  ‘Where is she now?’

  ‘She’s married. That’s why I came here. I mean, I wasn’t free before. I had to look after Judy. She was married at eighteen. He’s a very nice man – older than she is – straight, kind, well off, everything I could wish. I wanted her to wait, to be sure, but she wouldn’t wait. You can’t fight people like her and Dermot. They have to have their own way. Besides, how can you judge for someone else? You might ruin their lives when you thought you were helping them. One mustn’t interfere …

  ‘She’s out in East Africa. She writes me occasionally, short happy letters. They’re like Dermot’s, they tell you nothing except facts, but you can feel it’s all right.’

  2

  ‘And then,’ I said, ‘you came here. Why?’

  She said slowly:

  ‘I don’t know whether I can make you understand … Something a man said to me once made an impression on me. I’d told him a little of what had happened. He was an understanding person. He said: “What are you going to do with your life? You’re still young.” I said that there was Judy and travelling and seeing things and places.

  ‘He said: “That won’t be enough. You’ll have either to take a lover or lovers. You will have to decide which it’s to be.”

  ‘And, you know, that frightened me, because I knew he was right …

  ‘People, ordinary unthinking people, have said, “Oh, my dear, some day you’ll marry again – some nice man who’ll make it all up to you.”

  ‘Marry? I’d be terrified to marry. Nobody can hurt you except a husband – nobody’s near enough …

  ‘I didn’t mean ever to have anything more to do with men …

  ‘But that young man frightened me … I wasn’t old … not old enough …

  ‘There might be a – a lover? A lover wouldn’t be so terrifying as a husband – you’d never get to depend so on a lover – it’s all the little shared intimacies of life that hold you so with a husband and tear you to pieces when you part … A lover you just have occasional meetings with – your daily life is your own …

  ‘Lover – or lovers …

  ‘Lovers would be best. You’d be – almost safe – with lovers!

  ‘But I hoped it wouldn’t come to that. I hoped I’d learn to live alone. I tried.’

  She didn’t speak for some moments. ‘I tried,’ she had said. Those two words covered a good deal.

  ‘Yes?’ I said at last.

  She said slowly:

  ‘It was when Judy was fifteen that I met someone … He was rather like Peter Maitland … Kind, not very clever. He loved me …

  ‘He told me that what I needed was gentleness. He was – very good to me. His wife had died when their first baby was born. The baby died too. So, you see, he’d been unhappy too. He understood what it was like.

  ‘We enjoyed things together … we seemed to be able to share things. And he didn’t mind if I was myself. I mean, I could say I was enjoying myself and be enthusiastic without his thinking me silly … He was – it’s an odd thing to say, but he really was – like a mother to me. A mother, not a father! He was so gentle …’

  Celia’s voice had grown gentle. Her face was a child’s – happy, confident …

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘He wanted to marry me. I said I could never marry anyone … I said I’d lost my nerve. He understood that too …

  ‘That was three years ago. He’s been a friend – a wonderful friend … He’s always been there when I wanted him. I’ve felt loved … It’s a happy feeling …

  ‘After Judy’s wedding he asked me again to marry him. He said that he thought I could trust him now. He wanted to take care of me. He said we’d go back home – to my home. It’s been shut up with a caretaker all these years – I couldn’t bear to go there, but I’ve always felt it’s there waiting for me … Just waiting for me … He said we’d go there and live, and that all this misery would seem like a bad dream …

  ‘And I – I felt I wanted to …

  ‘But, somehow, I couldn’t. I said we’d be lovers if he liked. It didn’t matter now that Judy was married. Then, if he wanted to be free, he could leave me any minute. I could never be an obstacle, and so he’d never have to hate me because I stood in the way of his wanting to marry someone else …

  ‘He wouldn’t do that. He was very gentle but firm. He had been a doctor, you know, a surgeon, rather a celebrated one. He said I’d got to get over this nervous terror. He said once I was actually married to him it would be all right …

  ‘At last – I said I would …’

  3

  I didn’t speak and in a minute or two Celia went on:

  ‘I felt happy – really happy …

  ‘At peace again and as though I were safe …

  ‘And then it happened. It was the day before we were to be married.

  ‘We’d driven out of town to dinner. It was a hot night … We were sitting in a garden by the river. He kissed me and said I was beautiful … I’m thirty-nine, and worn and tired, but he said I was beautiful.

  ‘And then he said the thing that frightened me – that broke up the dream.’

  ‘What did he say?’

  ‘He said: “Don’t ever be less beautiful …”

  ‘He said it just in the same voice that Dermot had said it …’

  4

  ‘I expect you don’t understand – nobody could …

  ‘It was the Gun Man all over again …

  ‘Everything happy and at peace, and then you feel He’s there …

  ‘It all came back again – the terror …

  ‘I couldn’t face it – not going through it all again … being happy for years – and then, perhaps, being ill or something … and the whole misery coming over again …

  ‘I couldn’t risk going through it again.

  ‘I think what I really mean is that I couldn’t face being frightened of going through it again … Being terrified that the same experience would come nearer and nearer – every day of happiness would make it more frightening … I couldn’t face the suspense …

  ‘And so I ran away …

  ‘Just like that …

  ‘I left Michael – I don’t think he knew why I went – I
just made some excuse – I went through the little inn and asked for the station. It was about ten minutes’ walk. I just jumped on a train.

  ‘When I got to London I went home and fetched my passport and went and sat in the ladies’ waiting-room at Victoria till morning. I was afraid Michael might find me and persuade me … I might have been persuaded, because, you see, I did love him … He was so sweet to me always.

  ‘But I can’t face going through everything again …

  ‘I can’t …

  ‘It’s too ghastly to live in fear …

  ‘And it’s awful to have no trust left …

  ‘I simply couldn’t trust anyone … not even Michael.

  ‘It would be Hell for them as well as for me …’

  5

  ‘That’s a year ago …

  ‘I never wrote to Michael …

  ‘I never gave him any explanation …

  ‘I’ve treated him disgracefully …

  ‘I don’t mind. Ever since Dermot, I’ve been hard … I haven’t cared whether I’ve hurt people or not. When you’ve been hurt too much yourself you don’t care …

  ‘I travelled about, trying to be interested in things and make my own life …

  ‘Well, I’ve failed …

  ‘I can’t live alone … I can’t make up stories about people any more – it doesn’t seem to come …

  ‘So it means being alone all the time even if you’re in the middle of a crowd …

  ‘And I can’t live with someone … I’m too miserably afraid …

  ‘I’m beaten …

  ‘I can’t face the prospect of living, perhaps, another thirty years. I’m not, you see, sufficiently brave …’

  Celia sighed … Her lids drooped …

  ‘I remembered this place, and I came here on purpose … It’s a very nice place …’

  She added:

  ‘This is a very long stupid story … I seem to have been talking a lot … it must be morning …’

  Celia fell asleep …

  4 Beginning

  1

  Well, you see, that’s where we are – except for the one incident I referred to at the beginning of the story.

  The whole point is, is that significant, or isn’t it?

  If I’m right, the whole of Celia’s life led up to and came to its climax in that one minute.

  It happened when I was saying goodbye to her on the boat.

  She was dead sleepy. I’d wakened her up and made her dress. I wanted to get her away from the island quickly.

  She was like a tired child – obedient and very sweet and completely bemused.

  I thought – I may be wrong – but I thought that the danger was over …

  And then, suddenly, as I was saying goodbye, she seemed to wake up. She, as it were, saw me for the first time.

  She said: ‘I don’t know your name even …’

  I said: ‘It doesn’t matter – you wouldn’t know it. I used to be a fairly well-known portrait painter.’

  ‘Aren’t you now?’

  ‘No,’ I said, ‘something happened to me in the war.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘This …’

  And I pushed forward my stump where the hand ought to have been.

  2

  The bell rang and I had to run …

  So I’ve only got my impression …

  But that impression is very clear.

  Horror – and then relief …

  Relief’s a poor word – it was more than that – Deliverance expresses it better.

  It was the Gun Man again, you see – her symbol for fear …

  The Gun Man had pursued her all these years …

  And now, at last, she had met him face to face …

  And he was just an ordinary human being.

  Me …

  3

  That’s how I see it.

  It is my fixed belief that Celia went back into the world to begin a new life …

  She went back at thirty-nine – to grow up …

  And she left her story and her fear – with me …

  I don’t know where she went. I don’t even know her name. I’ve called her Celia because that name seems to suit her. I could find out, I suppose, by questioning hotels. But I can’t do that … I suppose I shall never see her again …

  If you enjoyed Unfinished Portrait, check out this other great Mary Westmacott title.

  Buy the ebook here

  About the Author

  Agatha Christie (1890–1976) is known throughout the world as the Queen of Crime. Her first book, The Mysterious Affair at Style, was written during the First World War and introduced us to Hercule Poirot, the Belgian detective with the ‘Little Grey Cells’, who was destined to reappear in nearly 100 different novels or short stories over the next 50 years. Agatha also created the elderly crime-solver, Miss Marple, as well as more than 2,000 colourful characters across her 80 crime books.

  Agatha Christie’s books have sold over one billion copies in the English language and another billion in more than 100 countries, making her the best-selling novelist in history. Her stories have transcended the printed page, also finding success as adaptations for stage, films, television, radio, audiobooks, comic strips and interactive games, and her many stage plays have enjoyed critical acclaim – the most famous, The Mousetrap, opened in 1952 and is the longest-running play in history. Agatha Christie was made a Dame in 1971.

  It was her sharp observations of people’s ambitions, relationships and conflicts that added life and sparkle to her ingenious detective stories. When she turned this understanding of human nature away from the crime genre, writing anonymously as Mary Westmacott to prove to herself that her books could sell on merit rather than her fame alone, she created bittersweet novels, love stories with a jagged edge, as compelling and memorable as the best of her work.

  Also by the Author

  THE MARY WESTMACOTT COLLECTION

  Giant’s Bread

  Unfinished Portrait

  Absent in the Spring

  The Rose and the Yew Tree

  A Daughter’s a Daughter

  The Burden

  Copyright

  Harper

  An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers

  77–85 Fulham Palace Road

  Hammersmith, London W6 8JB

  www.harpercollins.co.uk

  First published in Great Britain by Collins 1934

  Published by HarperCollinsPublishers 1997, 2009

  Copyright © Agatha Christie Mallowan 1962

  Agatha Christie Mallowan asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

  A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

  HarperCollinsPublishers has made every reasonable effort to ensure that any picture content and written content in this ebook has been included or removed in accordance with the contractual and technological constraints in operation at the time of publication.

  Source ISBN: 9780006499466

  Ebook Edition © NOV 2013 ISBN: 9780007534968

  Version: 2014–02–26

  About the Publisher

  Australia

  HarperCollins Publishers (Australia) Pty. Ltd.

  Level 13, 201 Elizabeth Street

  Sydney, NSW 2000, Australia

  http://www.harpercollins.com.au

  Canada

  HarperCollins Canada

  2 Bloor Street East – 20th Floor

&
nbsp; Toronto, ON, M4W, 1A8, Canada

  http://www.harpercollins.ca

  New Zealand

  HarperCollins Publishers (New Zealand) Limited

  P.O. Box 1

  Auckland, New Zealand

  http://www.harpercollins.co.nz

  United Kingdom

  HarperCollins Publishers Ltd.

  77–85 Fulham Palace Road

  London, W6 8JB, UK

  http://www.harpercollins.co.uk

  United States

  HarperCollins Publishers Inc.

  10 East 53rd Street

  New York, NY 10022

  http://www.harpercollins.com

 

 

 


‹ Prev