Read Online Third Girl by Agatha Christie - Free Book Online Page A

percolator. Frances Cary gave an enormous yawn. Both girls were breakfasting in the small kitchen of the flat. Claudia was dressed and ready to start for her day's work. Frances was still in dressing-gown and pyjamas. Her black hair fell over one eye.
    “I'm worried about Norma,” continued Claudia.
    Frances yawned.
    “I shouldn't worry if I were you. She'll ring up or turn up sooner or later, I suppose.”
    “Will she? You know, Fran, I can't help wondering -”
    “I don't see why,” said Frances, pouring herself out more coffee. She sipped it doubtfully. “I mean - Norma's not really our business, is she? I mean, we're not looking after her or spoon-feeding her or anything. She just shares the flat. Why all this motherly solicitude? I certainly wouldn't worry.”
    “I daresay you wouldn't. You never worry over anything. But it's not the same for you as it is for me.”
    “Why isn't it the same? You mean because you're the tenant of the flat or something?”
    “Well, I'm in rather a special position, as you might say.”
    Frances gave another enormous yawn.
    “I was up too late last night,” she said. “At Basil's party. I feel dreadful. Oh well, I suppose black coffee will be helpful. Have some more before I've drunk it all? Basil would make us try some new pills - Emerald Dreams. I don't think it's really worth trying all these silly things.”
    “You'll be late at your gallery,” said Claudia.
    "Oh well, I don't suppose it matters much. Nobody notices or cares.
    “I saw David last night,” she added. “He was all dressed up and really looked rather wonderful.”
    “Now don't say you're falling for him, too, Fran. He really is too awful.”
    “Oh, I know you think so. You're such a conventional type, Claudia.”
    “Not at all. But I cannot say I care for all your arty set. Trying out all these drugs and passing out or getting fighting mad.”
    Frances looked amused.
    “I'm not a drug fiend, dear - I just like to see what these things are like. And some of the gang are all right. David can paint, you know, if he wants to.”
    “David doesn't very often want to, though, does he?”
    “You've always got your knife into him, Claudia... You hate him coming here to see Norma. And talking of knives...”
    “Well? Talking of knives?”
    “I've been worrying,” said Frances slowly, “whether to tell you something or not.”
    Claudia glanced at her wristwatch.
    “I haven't got time now,” she said. “You can tell me this evening if you want to tell me something. Anyway, I'm not in the mood. Oh dear,” she sighed, “I wish I knew what to do.”
    “About Norma?”
    “Yes. I'm wondering if her parents ought to know that we don't know where she is...”
    “That would be very unsporting. Poor Norma, why shouldn't she slope off on her own if she wants to?”
    “Well, Norma isn't exactly -” Claudia stopped.
    “No, she isn't, is she? Non compos mentis. That's what you meant. Have you rung up that terrible place where she works. 'Homebirds', or whatever it's called? Oh yes, of course you did. I remember.”
    “So where is she?” demanded Claudia. “Did David say anything last night?”
    “David didn't seem to know. Really, Claudia, I can't see that it matters.”
    “It matters for me,” said Claudia, “because my boss happens to be her father. Sooner or later, if anything peculiar has happened to her, they'll ask me why I didn't mention the fact that she hadn't come home.”
    “Yes, I suppose they might pitch on you. But there's no real reason, is there, why Norma should have to report to us every time she's going to be away from here for a day or two. Or even a few nights. I mean, she's not a paying guest or anything. You're not in charge of the girl.”
    “No, but Mr Restarick did mention he felt glad to know that she had got a room here with us.”
    “So that entitles you to go and tittle-tattle about her every time she's absent without leave? She's probably got a crush on some new