Chapter 2 Chapter 2 Breakfast Thunder

1 small paddock, breakfast is also in progress. Miss Blacklock, the master of the house, was over sixty, and was seated at the head of the table.She was dressed in a country tweed suit, and around her neck hung a choker of huge fake pearls incongruously.She was reading the Daily Mail's column on events in Norcott Street.Juliet Simmons was scanning the Telegraph listlessly. Patrick Simmons checking Scrabble answers in The Times.Miss Dora Bonner was engrossed in the local weekly paper. Miss Blacklock snickered, and Patrick grumbled, "Should be adhesive instead of adhesive—that's the mistake."

Suddenly, there was a loud "chuck" from Miss Bonner's side, as if a female (or bird) had been suddenly frightened. "Litty--Litty--have you read this? What on earth does it mean?" "What's the matter, Dora?" "The most extraordinary admonition. It's clearly a small paddock. But what exactly does this mean? " "If you'll let me see, dear Dora—" Miss Bonner obediently brought the paper to Miss Blacklock's outstretched head, and pointed with a trembling forefinger at the news. "Look here, Litty." Miss Blacklock began to look.Her eyebrows went up.She took a quick, careful look at the others sitting around the table.Then she read the announcement aloud.

"Announcement: A murder will take place in the paddock at 6:30 p.m. Friday, October 29. Please accept this invitation, friends, without further notice." Then she snapped, "Patrick, is this Do you have an idea?" Her piercing eyes rested on the face of the young man at the other end of the table, a handsome face that even a devil would love to see. Patrick Simmons immediately and categorically denied it. "No, it's nothing, Aunt Letty. How did you get that idea? Why should I know about this? " "I'm not going to lay it on you," said Miss Blacklock darkly. "I thought maybe you were trying to make a joke."

"A joke? Nothing." "What about you, Julia?" Zhu Liji looked bored and said, "Of course not." Miss Bonner murmured, "Look at Mrs. Haymes"" "Here she looked at a vacant seat where a diner had been seated some time ago. "Oh, I don't think our Philippa would do such things, or make such jokes," said Patrick, "she's a serious girl." "But what is it all about?" she asked, yawning. "What on earth does it mean?" Miss Blacklock said with a serious look: "I suppose—it's some kind of stupid trick."

"But for what?" exclaimed Dora Bonner, "what's the point? It seemed like a clumsy joke, and in terrible style. " Her soft cheeks trembled with anger, and her short-sighted eyes shone with the anger in her chest. Miss Blacklock smiled at her. "Don't bother with that, Bonnie," she said. "It's just somebody's humorous trick, but I wish I knew who did it." "It says today," Miss Bonner pointed out. "It's six-thirty tonight. What do you think will happen?" "Death!" said Patrick sullenly. "Delicious death."

"Shut up, Patrick," said Miss Blacklock, hearing a faint cry from Miss Bonner. "I just mean that special cake that Mickey makes," Patrick said apologetically, "you know we've always called it Delicious Death." Miss Blacklock smiled slightly absently. Miss Bonner insisted. "But, Litty, do you really think—" Her friend interrupted Miss Bonner with reassurance and relief: "I know one thing about what happens at six-thirty," she remarked, "and half the village will flock to Here, and everyone is full of curiosity. Better have some sherry in the house."

2 "You're worried, aren't you, Lottie?" Miss Blacklock was startled.She had been sitting at her desk, drawing little fish absently on a piece of blotting paper.She looked up at the anxious face of her old friend. She wondered what to say to Dora.Bonnie, she thought, there was no need to worry or be upset, she was silent for a while, lost in thought. She and Dora Bonner studied in the same school in their early years.Dora was a girl then, pretty, with pretty hair and blue eyes, but silly. But it doesn't hurt to be silly; for she is gay, good-humoured, and pretty, and a pleasant companion.She must have--her friend thought--had married a fine officer, or a country lawyer.She has so many good qualities" "Friendship, devotion, loyalty, and yet life has not been kind to Dora Bonner.She had to earn money to survive by herself.Although she has been working hard and suffering unspeakably, what she does is often beyond her control.

The two friends hadn't seen each other for a long time.Miss Blacklock had received a sudden, disturbed and pathetic letter from Dora six months ago.Dora's health deteriorated, and she lived alone in a one-room house, scraping by on her pension.She tried her hand at a little sewing, but her fingers were stiff with rheumatism, and she wrote of their school days--after which life drove them apart""But would old friends help her hand? Miss Blacklock, on the spur of the moment, wrote her back.Poor Dora, poor pretty Dora, silly limp Dora.She swooped on Dora like a hawk (and a bird), took her away, and put her in a small paddock, making up consoling reasons, saying, "There's a lot of housework that I can't do myself, so I need to find someone to help me." Someone help me housekeeper."

It didn't last long--and Dora's doctor had warned her--and she sometimes found picking up poor old Dora a poor attempt.Dora makes a mess of everything and upsets the fickle 'foreign aid, provider; she miscounts laundry at the laundromat, loses bills, misses letters, and sometimes leaves the capable Blacklock The young lady was so angry and painful.And yet, poor silly old Dora was so loyal, so helpful, so happy and proud of being useful, and yet, alas, she was so downright useless. She snapped, "Come on, Dora. You know I told you—" "Oh," said Miss Bonner, looking ashamed, "I know. I forgot, but—but you're worried, aren't you?"

"Worried? No, at least," she added earnestly, "not very worried. Do you mean that stupid advertisement in Izvestia? " "Yes. Even if it's a joke, it seems to me—a vicious one." "vicious?" "Yes. I seem to think there's something vicious about it. I mean—that's not a kind joke." Miss Blacklock glanced at her friend.Soft eyes, long and stubborn mouth, slightly raised nose. Poor Dora, so fussy, so confused, so devoted, that's a problem.A lovable fussy old idiot and, strangely enough, such an instinctive sense of worth. "I think you're right, Dora," said Miss Blacklock, "it's not a friendly joke." "I don't like it at all," said Miss Dora Bonner, with unusual forcefulness. Scares me." Suddenly she added: "Scares you too, Letitia."

"Nonsense" Miss Blacklock was full of momentum. "Dangerous. I promise. It's like someone sent you a bomb in a package." "My dear, it's just a stupid idiot trying to play a joke" "It's not a joke" It's not very funny...Miss Blacklock's expression betrayed her thoughts, so Dora seemed to have the upper hand Loudly said: "Look, you think so too!" "But Dora, my dear—" She stopped abruptly.A young woman rushes through the door like a storm, her well-developed breasts firmly supported by a tight knit sweater, wearing a brightly colored skirt that wraps her body tightly, a greasy skirt A braided dark wool scarf covered her head.Her dark eyes sparkled. She said to him like a gust of wind: "Can I talk to you, can I, please, can't I?" Miss Blacklock sighed. "Of course, Miki, what's the matter?" Sometimes she would rather do all the housework, including cooking, by herself than be bothered by this refugee's "ladylike help", because this kind of help is simply a kind of rest for the nerves. torture. "I'll let you know—the word order is correct, I hope? I'll let you know, I'm going" "Go now!" "Why? Did someone offend you?" "Yes, I'm very angry," said Miki, expressively, "I'd rather die! I have escaped from continental Europe.My family they're all dead - they're all killed - my mother, my little brother, and my sweet little niece - all, all killed.But I escaped—I hid.I came to England.I work. I do jobs that I would never—never do in my own country""I""""I know all this," said Miss Blacklock emphatically. These words often hang on Mi Dian's mouth. "But why are you leaving now?" "Because they're coming to kill me again!" "Who is going to kill you?" "My enemies. The Nazis! Maybe the Bolsheviks this time. They found me here and they came to kill. I saw the news—yes—in the papers!" "Oh, you mean in Izvestia?" "Here, it's all written here." Midian took out the "Izvestia" hidden behind his back. "Look—here it says a murder, and it's in the paddock. That's right here, isn't it? Tonight Six-thirty. Ah! I don't want to be killed--I don't!" "But why does it have to be about you? It's—we think it's a joke." "A joke? Killing people is not a joke." "No, of course not. But my dear boy, if someone wants to murder you, why should they put it in the paper?" "You think they won't?" Midian seemed a little shocked, "Do you think, maybe, they didn't intend to murder anyone at all?"Maybe it's you they're going to kill, Miss Blacklock." "I certainly don't believe I'm being murdered," said Miss Blacklock lightly, "and to tell you the truth, Midian, I don't see why anyone should be murdering you.Anyway, why would they do it? " "Because they are all bad people... very bad people. I tell you, my mother, my little brother, my sweet little niece..." "Yes, yes," Miss Blacklock stopped her tactfully, "but I really can't believe that someone would murder you, Midian. Of course, if you want to leave at such a short notice, I won't." Can't stop you. But I think you'd be a fool to go." Just when Mi Dian hesitated, she said decisively: "For lunch, let's stew the beef sent by the butcher. The meat looks very hard." "I'll make goulash, a special kind of goulash." "If you want to call it that, sure. Maybe you could use up that hard cheese all over for some puff pastry. I think someone might be in for a few drinks tonight." "Tonight? What do you mean tonight?" "six thirty." , 'But that is the time mentioned in the newspaper?Why did you come at that time?Why are they here? " "They came to the funeral," said Miss Blacklock, brightly. 'That's it, Midian.I'm busy right now.Close the door when you go out. ' she said firmly. "Take care of her for the time being." Mi Lang said after closing the door with a suspicious face. "You're so efficient, Litty," said Miss Bonner, admiringly.