Death Comes as the End. Агата Кристи
this? Has anyone been unkind to you?’
‘No, no—that is, they do not mean it—it is a matter of course to them that I should work unceasingly (which I am glad to do)—but a word of affection and appreciation, that is what makes all the difference.’
‘That you will always have from me,’ said Imhotep. ‘And this is always your home, remember.’
‘You are too kind, master.’ She paused and added: ‘The slaves are ready in the bathroom with the hot water—and when you have bathed and dressed, your mother asks that you should go to her.’
‘Ah, my mother? Yes—yes, of course …’
Imhotep looked suddenly slightly embarrassed. He covered his confusion by saying quickly:
‘Naturally—I had intended that—tell Esa I shall come.’
Esa, dressed in her best pleated linen gown, peered across at her son with a kind of sardonic amusement.
‘Welcome, Imhotep. So you have returned to us—and not alone, I hear.’
Imhotep, drawing himself up, replied rather shamefacedly:
‘Oh, so you have heard?’
‘Naturally. The house is humming with the news. The girl is beautiful, they say, and quite young.’
‘She is nineteen and—er—not ill looking.’
Esa laughed—an old woman’s spiteful cackle.
‘Ah, well,’ she said, ‘there’s no fool like an old fool.’
‘My dear mother. I am really at a loss to understand what you mean.’
Esa replied composedly:
‘You always were a fool, Imhotep.’
Imhotep drew himself up and spluttered angrily. Though usually comfortably conscious of his own importance, his mother could always pierce the armour of his self-esteem. In her presence he felt himself dwindling. The faint sarcastic gleam of her nearly sightless eyes never failed to disconcert him. His mother, there was no denying, had never had an exaggerated opinion of his capabilities. And although he knew well that his own estimate of himself was the true one and his mother’s a maternal idiosyncrasy of no importance—yet her attitude never failed to puncture his happy conceit of himself.
‘Is it so unusual for a man to bring home a concubine?’
‘Not at all unusual. Men are usually fools.’
‘I fail to see where the folly comes in.’
‘Do you imagine that the presence of this girl is going to make for harmony in the household? Satipy and Kait will be beside themselves and will inflame their husbands.’
‘What has it to do with them? What right have they to object?’
‘None.’
Imhotep began to walk up and down angrily.
‘Can I not do as I please in my own house? Do I not support my sons and their wives? Do they not owe the very bread they eat to me? Do I not tell them so without ceasing?’
‘You are too fond of saying so, Imhotep.’
‘It is the truth. They all depend on me. All of them!’
‘And are you sure that this is a good thing?’
‘Are you saying that it is not a good thing for a man to support his family?’
Esa sighed.
‘They work for you, remember.’
‘Do you want me to encourage them in idleness? Naturally they work.’
‘They are grown men—at least Yahmose and Sobek are—more than grown.’
‘Sobek has no judgement. He does everything wrong. Also he is frequently impertinent which I will not tolerate. Yahmose is a good obedient boy—’
‘A good deal more than a boy!’
‘But sometimes I have to tell him things two or three times before he takes them in. I have to think of everything—be everywhere! All the time I am away, I am dictating to scribes—writing full instructions so that my sons can carry them out … I hardly rest—I hardly sleep! And now when I come home, having earned a little peace, there is to be fresh difficulty! Even you, my mother, deny my right to have a concubine like other men—you are angry—’
Esa interrupted him.
‘I am not angry. I am amused. There will be good sport to watch in the household—but I say all the same that when you go North again you had best take the girl with you.’
‘Her place is here, in my household! And woe to any who dare ill-treat her.’
‘It is not a question of ill-treatment. But remember, it is easy to kindle a fire in dry stubble. It has been said of women that “the place where they are is not good …”’
Esa paused and said slowly:
‘Nofret is beautiful. But remember this: Men are made fools by the gleaming limbs of women, and lo, in a minute they are become discoloured cornelians …’
Her voice deepened as she quoted:
‘A trifle, a little, the likeness of a dream, and death comes as the end …’
Third Month of Inundation 15th Day
Imhotep listened to Sobek’s explanation of the sale of the timber in ominous silence. His face had grown very red and a small pulse was beating in his temple.
Sobek’s air of easy nonchalance wore a little thin. He had intended to carry things off with a high hand, but in the face of his father’s gathering frowns, he found himself stammering and hesitating.
Imhotep finally cut him short impatiently.
‘Yes, yes, yes—you thought that you knew more than I did—you departed from my instructions—it is always the same—unless I am here to see to everything …’ He sighed. ‘What would become of you boys without me I cannot imagine!’
Sobek went on doggedly:
‘There was a chance of making a much bigger profit—I took the risk. One cannot always be pettifogging and cautious!’
‘There is nothing cautious about you, Sobek! You are rash and much too bold and your judgement is always wrong.’
‘Do I ever have a chance to exercise my judgement?’
Imhotep said dryly:
‘You have done so this time—and against my express orders—’
‘Orders? Have I always got to take orders? I am a grown man.’
Losing control of his temper, Imhotep shouted:
‘Who feeds you, who clothes you? Who thinks of the future? Who has your welfare—the welfare of all of you—constantly in mind? When the river was low and we were threatened with famine, did I not arrange for food to be sent South to you? You are lucky to have such a father—who thinks of everything! And what do I ask in return? Only that you should work hard, do your best, and obey the instructions I send you—’
‘Yes,’ shouted Sobek. ‘We are to work for you like slaves—so that you can buy gold and jewels for your concubine!’
Imhotep advanced towards him, bristling with rage.
‘Insolent boy—to speak like that to your father.