"Miss Gilchrist, what's the matter. Are you ill?"
"Yes. I don't know what - I -" she tried to get out of bed, was
seized with a fit of vomiting and then collapsed back on the pillows.
She murmured: "Please - ring up doctor. Must have eaten something..."
"I'll get you some bicarbonate. We can get the doctor in the morning if you're not better."
Miss Gilchrist shook her head.
"No, get doctor now. I - I feel dreadful."
"Do you know his number? Or shall I look in the book?"
Miss Gilchrist gave her the number. She was interrupted by another fit of retching.
Susan's call was answered by a sleepy male voice.
"Who? Gilchrist? In Mead's Lane. Yes, I know. I'll be right along."
He was as good as his word. Ten minutes later Susan heard his car draw up outside and she went to open the door to him.
She explained the case as she took him upstairs. "I think," she said,
"she must have eaten something that disagreed with her. But she seems pretty bad."
The doctor had had the air of one keeping his temper in leash and
who has had some experience of being called out unnecessarily on more
than one occasion. But as soon as he examined the moaning woman his
manner changed. He gave various curt orders to Susan and presently came
down and telephoned. Then he joined Susan in the sitting-room.
"I've sent for an ambulance. Must get her into hospital."
"She's really bad then?"
"Yes. I've given her a shot of morphia to ease the pain. But it looks -" He broke off. "What's she eaten?"
"We had macaroni au gratin for supper and a custard pudding. Coffee afterwards."
"You have the same things?"
"Yes."
"And you're all right? No pain or discomfort?"
"No."
"She's taken nothing else? No tinned fish? Or sausages?"
"No. We had lunch at the King's Arms - after the inquest."
"Yes, of course. You're Mrs Lansquenet's niece?"
"Yes."
"That was a nasty business. Hope they catch the man who did it."
"Yes, indeed."
The ambulance came. Miss Gilchrist was taken away and the doctor
went with her. He told Susan he would ring her up in the morning. When
he had left she went upstairs to bed. This time she fell asleep as soon
as her head touched the pillow.
II
The funeral was well attended. Most of the village had turned out.
Susan and Mr Entwhistle were the only mourners, but various wreaths had
been sent by the other members of the family. Mr Entwhistle asked where
Miss Gilchrist was, and Susan explained the circumstances in a hurried
whisper. Mr Entwhistle raised his eyebrows.
"Rather an odd occurrence?"
"Oh, she's better this morning. They rang up from the hospital.
People do get these bilious turns. Some make more fuss than others."
Mr Entwhistle said no more. He was returning to London immediately after the funeral.
Susan went back to the cottage. She found some eggs and made
herself an omelette. Then she went up to Cora's room and started to sort
through the dead woman's things.
She was interrupted by the arrival of the doctor.
The doctor was looking worried. He replied to Susan's inquiry by saying that Miss Gilchrist was much better.
"She'll be out and around in a couple of days," he said. "But it
was lucky I got called in so promptly. Otherwise - it might have been a
near thing."
Susan stared. "Was she really so bad?"
"Mrs Banks, will you tell me again exactly what Miss Gilchrist had to eat and drink yesterday. Everything."
Susan reflected and gave a meticulous account. The doctor shook his head in a dissatisfied manner.
"There must have been something she had and you didn't?"
"I don't think so... Cakes, scones, jam, tea - and then supper. No, I can't remember anything."
The doctor rubbed his nose. He walked up and down the room.
"Was it definitely something she ate? Definitely food poisoning?"
