She likes it better, she says. She’s secretary to a very rich gentleman just come back from South America or somewhere like that. He’s Miss Norma’s father, and it was he who asked Miss Holland to take her as a boarder when the last young lady went off to get married — and she mentioned as she was looking for another girl. Well, she couldn’t very well refuse, could she? Not since he was her employer.” “Did she want to refuse?” The woman sniffed.
“I think she would have—if she’d known.” “Known what?” The question was too direct.
“It’s not for me to say anything, I’m sure. It’s not my business — ” Mrs. Oliver continued to look mildly enquiring. Mrs. Mop fell.
“It’s not that she isn’t a nice young lady.
Scatty — but then they’re nearly all scatty.
But I think as a doctor ought to see her.
There are times when she doesn’t seem to know rightly what she’s doing, or where she is. It gives you quite a turn, sometimes — Looks just how my husband’s nephew does after he’s had a fit. (Terrible fits he has — you wouldn’t believe!) Only I’ve never known her have fits. Maybe she takes things —a lot do.” “I believe there is a young man her family doesn’t approve of.” “Yes, so I’ve heard. He’s come here to call for her once or twice — though I’ve never seen him. One of these Mods by all accounts. Miss Holland doesn’t like it— but what can you do nowadays? Girls go their own way.” “Sometimes one feels very upset about girls nowadays^” said Mrs. Oliver, and tried to look serious and responsible.
“Not brought up right, that’s what/says.” “I’m afraid not. No, I’m afraid not. One feels really a girl like Norma Restarick would be better at home than coming all alone to London and earning her living as an interior decorator.” “She don’t like it at home.” “Really?” “Got a stepmother. Girls don’t like stepmothers. From what I’ve heard the stepmother’s done her best, tried to pull her up, tried to keep flashy young men out of the house, that sort of thing. She knows girls pick up with the wrong young man and a lot of harm may come of it. Sometimes — ” the cleaning woman spoke impressively, cc — I’m thankful I’ve never had any daughters.” “Have you got sons?” “Two boys, we’ve got. One’s doing very well at school, and the other one, he’s in a printers, doing well there too. Yes, very nice boys they are. Mind you, boys can cause you trouble, too. But girls is more worrying, I think. You feel you ought to be able to do something about them.” “Yes,” said Mrs. Oliver, thoughtfully, “one does feel that.” She saw signs of the cleaning woman wishing to return to her cleaning.
“It’s too bad about my diary,” she said.
“Well, thank you very much and I hope I haven’t wasted your time.” “Well, I hope you’ll find it, I’m sure,” said the other woman obligingly.
Mrs. Oliver went out of the flat and considered what she should do next. She couldn’t think of anything she could do further that day, but a plan for tomorrow began to form in her mind.
When she got home, Mrs. Oliver, in an important way, got out a notebook and jotted down in it various things under the heading “Facts I have learned”. On the whole the facts did not amount to very much but Mrs. Oliver, true to her calling, managed to make the most of them that could be made. Possibly the fact that Claudia Reece-Holland was employed by Norma’s father was the most salient fact of any. She had not known that before, she rather doubted ifHercule Poirot had known it either. She thought of ringing him up on the telephone and acquainting him with it but decided to keep it to herself for the moment because of her plan for the morrow.
In fact, Mrs. Oliver felt at this moment less like a detective novelist than like an ardent bloodhound. She was on the trail, nose down on the scent, and tomorrow morning — well, tomorrow morning she would see.