Five Little Pigs

‘But there is another aspect. One does occasionally find a husband and wife who are so all-sufficient to each other, so wrapped up in each other, that the child of the marriage hardly seems very real to either of them. And in those circumstances I think a child comes to resent that fact, to feel defrauded and left out in the cold. You understand that I am not speaking ofneglect in any way. Mrs Crale, for instance, was what is termed an excellent mother, always careful of Carla’s welfare, of her health-playing with her at the right times and always kind and gay. But for all that, Mrs Crale was really completely wrapped up in her husband. She existed, one might say, only in him and for him.’ Miss Williams paused a minute and then said quietly: ‘That, I think, is the justification for what she eventually did.’

Hercule Poirot said:

‘You mean that they were more like lovers than like husband and wife?’

Miss Williams, with a slight frown of distaste for foreign phraseology, said:

‘You could certainly put it that way.’

‘He was devoted to her as she was to him?’

‘They were a devoted couple. But he, of course, was a man.’

Miss Williams contrived to put into that last word a wholly Victorian significance.

‘Men-’ said Miss Williams, and stopped.

As a rich property owner says ‘Bolsheviks’-as an earnest Communist says ‘Capitalists!’-as a good housewife says ‘Blackbeetles’-so did Miss Williams say ‘Men!’

From her spinster’s, governess’s life, there rose up a blast of fierce feminism. Nobody hearing her speak could doubt that to Miss Williams Men were the Enemy!

Poirot said: ‘You hold no brief for men?’

She answered drily:

‘Men have the best of this world. I hope that it will not always be so.’

Hercule Poirot eyed her speculatively. He could quite easily visualize Miss Williams methodically and efficiently padlocking herself to a railing, and later hunger-striking with resolute endurance. Leaving the general for the particular, he said:

‘You did not like Amyas Crale?’

‘I certainly did not like Mr Crale. Nor did I approve of him. If I were his wife I should have left him. There are things that no woman should put up with.’

‘But Mrs Crale did put up with them?’

‘Yes.’

‘You thought she was wrong?’

‘Yes, I do. A woman should have a certain respect for herself and not submit to humiliation.’

‘Did you ever say anything of that kind to Mrs Crale?’

‘Certainly not. It was not my place to do so. I was engaged to educate Angela, not to offer unasked advice to Mrs Crale. To do so would have been most impertinent.’

‘You liked Mrs Crale?’

‘I was very fond of Mrs Crale.’ The efficient voice softened, held warmth and feeling. ‘Very fond of her and very sorry for her.’

‘And your pupil-Angela Warren?’

‘She was a most interesting girl-one of the most interesting pupils I have had. A really good brain. Undisciplined, quick-tempered, most difficult to manage in many ways, but really a very fine character.’

She paused and then went on:

‘I always hoped that she would accomplish something worth while. And she has! You have read her book-on the Sahara? And she excavated those very interesting tombs in the Fayum! Yes, I am proud of Angela. I was not at Alderbury very long-two years and a half-but I always cherish the belief that I helped to stimulate her mind and encourage her taste for arch?ology.’

Poirot murmured: ‘I understand that it was decided to continue her education by sending her to school. You must have resented that decision.’

‘Not at all, M. Poirot. I thoroughly concurred with it.’

She paused and went:

‘Let me make the matter clear to you. Angela was a dear girl-really a very dear girl-warm-hearted and impulsive-but she was also what I call a difficult girl. That is, she was at a difficult age. There is always a moment where a girl feels unsure of herself-neither child nor woman. At one minute Angela would be sensible and mature-quite grown up, in fact-but a minute later she would relapse into being a hoydenish child-playing mischievous tricks and being rude and losing her temper. Girls, you know,feel difficult at that age-they are terribly sensitive. Everything that is said to them they resent. They are annoyed at being treated like a child and then they suddenly feel shy at being treated like adults. Angela was in that state. She had fits of temper, would suddenly resent teasing and flare out-and then she would be sulky for days at a time, sitting about and frowning-then again she would be in wild spirits, climbing trees, rushing about with the garden boys, refusing to submit to any kind of authority.’

Miss Williams paused and went on: