Read Online Don't Look Now by Daphne Du Maurier - Free Book Online
Authors: Daphne Du Maurier
Tags: Fiction.Horror, Adapted into Film, Collection.Single Author, Short Stories & Novellas, Fiction.Literature.Classic, Acclaimed.S K Recommends
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waiter with his drink. Too little ice, such meagre comfort, but what desperate need. He gulped it down without the ginger-ale, and in a few moments the ever-nagging pain was eased, numbed, bringing, if only momentarily, a sense of calm. The telephone rang, and now, he thought, bracing himself for ultimate disaster, the final shock, Johnnie probably dying, or already dead. In which case nothing remained. Let Venice be engulfed....
The exchange told him that the connection had been made, and in a moment he heard the voice of Mrs Hill at the other end of the line. They must have warned her that the call came from Venice, for she knew instantly who was speaking.
'Hullo?' she said. 'Oh, I am so glad you rang. All is well. Johnnie has had his operation, the surgeon decided to do it at midday rather than wait, and it was completely successful. Johnnie is going to be all right. So you don't have to worry any more, and will have a peaceful night.'
'Thank God,' he answered.
'I know,' she said, 'we are all so relieved. Now I'll get off the line and you can speak to your wife.'
John sat up on the bed, stunned. What the hell did she mean? Then he heard Laura's voice, cool and clear.
'Darling? Darling, are you there?'
He could not answer. He felt the hand holding the receiver go clammy cold with sweat. 'I'm here,' he whispered.
'It's not a very good line,' she said, 'but never mind. As Mrs Hill told you, all is well. Such a nice surgeon, and a very sweet Sister on Johnnie's floor, and I really am happy about the way it's turned out. I came straight down here after landing at Gatwick--the flight O.K., by the way, but such a funny crowd, it'll make you hysterical when I tell you about them--and I went to the hospital, and Johnnie was coming round. Very dopey, of course, but so pleased to see me. And the Hills are being wonderful, I've got their spare-room, and it's only a short taxi-drive into the town and the hospital. I shall go to bed as soon as we've had dinner, because I'm a bit fagged, what with the flight and the anxiety. How was the drive to Milan? And where are you staying?'
John did not recognise the voice that answered as his own. It was the automatic response of some computer.
'I'm not in Milan,' he said. 'I'm still in Venice.'
'Still in Venice? What on earth for? Wouldn't the car start?' can't explain,' he said. 'There was a stupid sort of mix-up....'
He felt suddenly so exhausted that he nearly dropped the receiver, and, shame upon shame, he could feel tears pricking behind his eyes.
'What sort of mix-up?' Her voice was suspicious, almost hostile. 'You weren't in a crash?'
'No ... no ... nothing like that.'
A moment's silence, and then she said, 'Your voice sounds very slurred. Don't tell me you went and got pissed.'
Oh Christ ... If she only knew! He was probably going to pass out any moment, but not from the whisky.
'I thought,' he said slowly, thought I saw you, in a vaporetto, with those two sisters.'
What was the point of going on? It was hopeless trying to explain.
'How could you have seen me with the sisters?' she said. 'You knew I'd gone to the airport. Really, darling, you are an idiot. You seem to have got those two poor old dears on the brain. I hope you didn't say anything to Mrs Hill just now.'
'No.'
'Well, what are you going to do? You'll catch the train at Milan tomorrow, won't you?'
'Yes, of course,' he told her.
'I still don't understand what kept you in Venice,' she said. 'It all sounds a bit odd to me. However ... thank God Johnnie is going to be all right and I'm here.'
'Yes,' he said, 'yes.'
He could hear the distant boom-boom sound of a gong from the headmaster's hall.
'You had better go,' he said. 'My regards to the Hills, and my love to Johnnie.'
'Well, take care of yourself, darling, and for goodness' sake don't miss the train tomorrow, and drive carefully.'
The telephone clicked and she had gone. He poured the remaining drop of whisky into his empty glass, and sousing it with
The exchange told him that the connection had been made, and in a moment he heard the voice of Mrs Hill at the other end of the line. They must have warned her that the call came from Venice, for she knew instantly who was speaking.
'Hullo?' she said. 'Oh, I am so glad you rang. All is well. Johnnie has had his operation, the surgeon decided to do it at midday rather than wait, and it was completely successful. Johnnie is going to be all right. So you don't have to worry any more, and will have a peaceful night.'
'Thank God,' he answered.
'I know,' she said, 'we are all so relieved. Now I'll get off the line and you can speak to your wife.'
John sat up on the bed, stunned. What the hell did she mean? Then he heard Laura's voice, cool and clear.
'Darling? Darling, are you there?'
He could not answer. He felt the hand holding the receiver go clammy cold with sweat. 'I'm here,' he whispered.
'It's not a very good line,' she said, 'but never mind. As Mrs Hill told you, all is well. Such a nice surgeon, and a very sweet Sister on Johnnie's floor, and I really am happy about the way it's turned out. I came straight down here after landing at Gatwick--the flight O.K., by the way, but such a funny crowd, it'll make you hysterical when I tell you about them--and I went to the hospital, and Johnnie was coming round. Very dopey, of course, but so pleased to see me. And the Hills are being wonderful, I've got their spare-room, and it's only a short taxi-drive into the town and the hospital. I shall go to bed as soon as we've had dinner, because I'm a bit fagged, what with the flight and the anxiety. How was the drive to Milan? And where are you staying?'
John did not recognise the voice that answered as his own. It was the automatic response of some computer.
'I'm not in Milan,' he said. 'I'm still in Venice.'
'Still in Venice? What on earth for? Wouldn't the car start?' can't explain,' he said. 'There was a stupid sort of mix-up....'
He felt suddenly so exhausted that he nearly dropped the receiver, and, shame upon shame, he could feel tears pricking behind his eyes.
'What sort of mix-up?' Her voice was suspicious, almost hostile. 'You weren't in a crash?'
'No ... no ... nothing like that.'
A moment's silence, and then she said, 'Your voice sounds very slurred. Don't tell me you went and got pissed.'
Oh Christ ... If she only knew! He was probably going to pass out any moment, but not from the whisky.
'I thought,' he said slowly, thought I saw you, in a vaporetto, with those two sisters.'
What was the point of going on? It was hopeless trying to explain.
'How could you have seen me with the sisters?' she said. 'You knew I'd gone to the airport. Really, darling, you are an idiot. You seem to have got those two poor old dears on the brain. I hope you didn't say anything to Mrs Hill just now.'
'No.'
'Well, what are you going to do? You'll catch the train at Milan tomorrow, won't you?'
'Yes, of course,' he told her.
'I still don't understand what kept you in Venice,' she said. 'It all sounds a bit odd to me. However ... thank God Johnnie is going to be all right and I'm here.'
'Yes,' he said, 'yes.'
He could hear the distant boom-boom sound of a gong from the headmaster's hall.
'You had better go,' he said. 'My regards to the Hills, and my love to Johnnie.'
'Well, take care of yourself, darling, and for goodness' sake don't miss the train tomorrow, and drive carefully.'
The telephone clicked and she had gone. He poured the remaining drop of whisky into his empty glass, and sousing it with
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