Read Online Absent in the Spring by Agatha writing as Mary Westmacott Christie - Free Book Online

go out of stations bearing away someone they loved.
    Really it was impossible that anyone could remember so clearly as she did exactly how Rodney’s back had looked!
    She was imagining –
    Stop, that didn’t make it any better. If you imagined a thing like that, it meant that such an idea was already in your head.
    And it couldn’t be true – the inference that she had drawn simply could not be true.
    She was saying to herself (wasn’t she?) that Rodney was glad she was going away …
    And that simply couldn’t be true!

Chapter Four
    Joan arrived back at the rest house definitely overheated. Unconsciously she had increased her pace so as to get away from that last unwelcome thought.
    The Indian looked at her curiously and said:
    â€˜Memsahib walk very fast. Why walk fast? Plenty time here.’
    Oh God, thought Joan, plenty time indeed!
    The Indian and the rest house and the chickens and the tins and the barbed wire were all definitely getting on her nerves.
    She went on into her bedroom and found The Power House .
    At any rate, she thought, it’s cool in here and dark.
    She opened The Power House and began to read.
    By lunch time she had read half of it.
    There was omelette for lunch and baked beans round it, and after it there was a dish of hot salmon with rice, and tinned apricots.
    Joan did not eat very much.
    Afterwards she went to her bedroom and lay down.
    If she had a touch of the sun from walking too fast in the heat, a sleep would do her good.
    She closed her eyes but sleep did not come.
    She felt particularly wide awake and intelligent.
    She got up and took three aspirins and lay down again.
    Every time she shut her eyes she saw Rodney’s back going away from her up the platform. It was insupportable!
    She pulled aside the curtain to let in some light and got The Power House . A few pages before the end she dropped asleep.
    She dreamt that she was going to play in a tournament with Rodney. They had difficulty in finding the balls but at last they got to the court. When she started to serve she found that she was playing against Rodney and the Randolph girl. She served nothing but double faults. She thought, Rodney will help me, but when she looked for him she could not find him. Everyone had left and it was getting dark. I’m all alone, thought Joan. I’m all alone.
    She woke up with a start.
    â€˜I’m all alone,’ she said aloud.
    The influence of the dream was still upon her. It seemed to her that the words she had just said were terribly frightening.
    She said again, ‘I’m all alone.’
    The Indian put his head in.
    â€˜Memsahib call?’
    â€˜Yes,’ she said. ‘Get me some tea.’
    â€˜Memsahib want tea? Only three o’clock.’
    â€˜Never mind, I want tea.’
    She heard him going away and calling out, ‘Chai-chai!’
    She got up from the bed and went over to the fly-spotted mirror. It was reassuring to see her own normal, pleasant-looking face.
    â€˜I wonder,’ said Joan addressing her reflection, ‘whether you can be going to be ill? You’re behaving very oddly.’
    Perhaps she had got a touch of the sun?
    When the tea came she was feeling quite normal again. In fact the whole business was really very funny. She, Joan Scudamore, indulging in nerves ! But of course it wasn’t nerves, it was a touch of the sun. She wouldn’t go out again until the sun was well down.
    She ate some biscuits and drank two cups of tea. Then she finished The Power House . As she closed the book, she was assailed by a definite qualm.
    She thought, Now I’ve got nothing to read.
    Nothing to read, no writing materials, no sewing with her. Nothing at all to do, but wait for a problematical train that mightn’t come for days.
    When the Indian came in to clear tea away she said to him:
    â€˜What do you do here?’
    He seemed surprised by the question.
    â€˜I look after travellers,