‘I always thought that dear Carrie Louise was almost too unworldly in her attitude to life.’
‘Oh, I know. I’ve no patience with it. Mother’s fads and whims and idealistic projects. You’ve no idea, Aunt Jane, of all that it has meant. I can speak with knowledge, of course. I was brought up in the middle of it all.’
It was with a very faint shock that Miss Marple heard herself addressed as Aunt Jane. And yet that had been the convention of those times. Her Christmas presents to Carrie Louise’s children were always labelled ‘With love from Aunt Jane,’ and as ‘Aunt Jane’ they thought of her, when they thought of her at all. Which was not, Miss Marple supposed, very often.
She looked thoughtfully at the middle-aged woman sitting beside her. At the pursed tight mouth, the deep lines from the nose down, the hands tightly pressed together.
She said gently:
‘You must have had – a difficult childhood.’ Mildred Strete turned eager grateful eyes to her.
‘Oh I’m so glad that somebody appreciates that.
People don’t really know what children go through.
Pippa, you see, was the pretty one. She was older than I was, too. It was always she who got all the attention. Both father and mother encouraged her to push herself forward – not that she needed any encouragement – to show off. I was always the quiet one. I was shy – Pippa didn’t know what shyness was. A child can suffer a great deal, Aunt Jane.’
‘I know that,’ said Miss Marple.
‘”Mildred’s so stupid” – that’s what Pippa used to say.
But I was younger than she was. Naturally I couldn’t be expected to keep up with her in lessons. And it’s very unfair on a child when her sister is always put in front of her.
‘”What a lovely little girl,” people used to say to Mamma. They never noticed me. And it was Pippa that Papa used to joke and play with. Someone ought to have seen how hard it was on me. All the notice and attention going to her. I wasn’t old enough to realize that it’s character that matters.’ Her lips trembled, then hardened again.
‘And it was unfair – really unfair – I was their own child. Pippa was only adopted. I was the daughter of the house. She was – nobody.’ ‘Probably they were extra indulgent to her on that account,’ said Miss Marple.
‘They liked her best,’ said Mildred Strete. And added: ‘A child whose own parents didn’t want her – or more probably illegitimate.’ She went on: ‘It’s come out in Gina. There’s bad blood there. Blood will tell. Lewis can have what theories he likes about environment. Bad blood does tell. Look at Gina.’ ‘Gina is a very lovely girl,’ said Miss Marple.
‘Hardly in behaviour,’ said Mrs Strete. ‘Everyone but mother notices how she is carrying on with Stephen Restarick. Quite disgusting, I call it. Admittedly she made a very unfortunate marriage, but marriage is marriage and one should be prepared to abide by it. After all, she chose to marry that dreadful young man.’ ‘Is he so dreadful?’ ‘Oh dear Aunt Jane! He really looks to me quite like a gangster. And so surly and rude. He hardly opens his mouth. And he always looks so raw and uncouth.’ ‘He is unhappy, I think,’ said Miss Marple mildly.
‘I really don’t know why he should be – apart from Gina’s behaviour, I mean. Everything has been done for him here. Lewis has suggested several ways in which he could try to make himself useful – but he prefers to skulk about doing nothing.’ She burst out: ‘Oh this whole place is impossible quite impossible. Lewis thinks of nothing but these horrible young criminals. And mother thinks of nothing but him. Everything Lewis does is right. Look at the state of the garden – the weeds – the overgrowth. And the house – nothing properly done. Oh I know a domestic staff is difficult nowadays, but it can be got. It’s not as though there were any shortage of money. It’s just that nobody cares. If it were my house -‘ She stopped.