Читать книгу Payment Deferred. Psychological Thriller онлайн

40 страница из 53

‘Aren’t you going to have your tea, dear?’ asked Mrs Marble.

Mr Marble looked, hesitated, and looked again.

‘Oh, all right, then,’ he said grudgingly.

He sat down before his tray and began to eat while his wife began her delightful duty of looking after him, pouring out his tea, refilling the teapot from the kettle on the fire, and seeing that he was comfortable. But Mr Marble had hardly begun when he rose from the table and hurried out of the room. Annie, hurt and mystified, heard him in the sitting-room next door—for the second time that day, and yet perhaps the second time for months. Almost mechanically she followed him, to find him peering through the window in the half light out into the backyard, where there was a small rain falling. He started as he heard her behind him.

‘What are you following me about for like this?’ he snapped.

‘Nothing dear. Is there anything you want, dear?’

‘Nothing, dear. Anything you want, dear?’ he gibed. ‘Only a wife with some sense. That’s all.’

He pushed past her without apology, back to the dining-room. She found him there seated at the table, but he had pushed his nice tray away, and was staring gloomily at the whisky bottle, which was perched, like some family god, in the exact centre of the table. He could not take his eyes off it. He did not look up as she came in, nor did he speak. For some minutes there was quiet in the room, broken only by the scratching of Winnie’s pen and the whispering of the two children to themselves as they toiled over their homework. Annie ought to have taken away the tray and started the washing up. That was her next duty, but for some reason she did not do it. Mr Marble’s gaze shifted from the whisky bottle, and fixed itself on the tablecloth. Clearly he was following some new train of thought. Suddenly he moved uneasily in his chair, and then he looked up.