Bloody Weekend
Chapter 63
Eloise Hope holds Graciela's shoulder
lembut.
He said, ”But you are the one who can accept the pain in your life. You can keep walking while smiling.”.
Graciela raised her face, looking at Eloise inside.
He smiled bitterly, ”Sad as it sounds, isn't it?”
”I'm someone else, so I like to use nice words.”
Suddenly arrived Graciela said, ”You've always been good at
i.”
”That's because I really admire you.”
”Miss Hope, what should we do about it?
I mean, with Natasha?”
Poirot pulls out Natasha yeng's briefcase made of
woolen yarn. Expended it. Exists
cutouts are small cutouts of fine skin and other colored skin. There are also three thick pieces of skin that are shiny black. Eloise
fill those three pieces.
”This is the holster of the gun. This I'll take. And
as for poor Mrs Hamilton, we will
tell her that she was too tired, that her husband's death was not countered by her. I'll report that he ended his own life while his mind was in turmoil.”
”And no one will know what has really happened?” graciela asked slowly.
”I think one person will know. Doctor Hamilton's Son. I think one day he will come to me and ask the truth.”
”But don't tell her,” exclamed Graciela.
”Ya, I'll tell you.”
Oh, no!”
”You don't understand. You can't stand someone suffering. But there are also people who will feel even more pain if they do not know. You yourself heard what the poor girl said earlier, ‘Rudy always wanted to know.’ For the scientifically minded, the truth is primary. The truth, as it is, is bitter,
acceptable, and can be woven into a plan for living.”
Graciela.
”Do you still need me here? Or is it better if I go?”
”I think it's better you go.”
Graciela nodded. Then he said, as if
not on Eloise, but rather on herself, ”Where am I going? What would I do , without Peter?”
”You talk like Natasha Hamilton, you will know where to go and what you will do.”
”Is that? But I'm so tired, Miss Hope, tired
once.”
”Go,” says Eloise subtly. ”Your place is in the middle of the living. I'm gonna
**********
While driving to Lon ⁇ don, the two questions popped up and echoed again in Graciela's head.
”What will I do? Where am I going?”
For the past three weeks, he's been tense and
kaucau, never relax in the least. He carried out the tasks he had to complete and the tasks Peter had given him. But now the task is done. Failed him? Or succeed? People may consider it a failure or
fruited. But whatever people thought, the task was done. And now he feels very tired.
He recalled the words he had said to Ryan on the porch, the night Peter died. It was the night when he went to the rest house and entered into it, and illuminated by a match, he deliberately drew a cherry tree on the leaf of the iron table. Deliberately and well planned.
He could not sit down and mourn for his dead lover.
”I want to grieve for Peter,” he said to Ryan at the time.
But he had not dared to relax at that time, yet dared to let himself be overwhelmed with grief. But now he will be sad. Now he has time for that.
”Peters... Peter,” whispered.
His heart was filled with bitterness, nelangsa and rebellion.
”If only I had drunk tea in that cup,”
thought.
Driving a car is an entertainment in itself to give him momentary strength. But soon he'll be in London. Soon he'll put his car in the garage, and get into his empty stadium.
Empty because Peter would never sit there again, bully her, comfort her, love her more than she wanted, tell her passionately about her illness or about her research , also about his victory and his sense of despair, about Mrs. White at St Hospital. Carolina.
Suddenly the dark curtain lifted from his mind,
and he said aloud, ”Yes, sure. That's where I'm going. The St Hospital. Carolina.”
Mrs. White, the old and poor woman, who was lying in her cramped bed in the hospital, looked at her guest with tired eyes but still shining.
The old woman was exactly as Peter had described her a few days ago, and Graciela suddenly felt a sense of warmth.
His spirit to rise again. This is a real figure and this will be eternal! In this place, at least he found Peter back for a moment.
”Please Mr Doctor. Horrified, huh?” Mrs says. Whites. Love and regret were heard in his voice, for Mrs. White is the lover of life. Sudden death, especially murder and death
it was a living decoration for him.
”Why he got shot! My stomach is going to hear it. I read all of that in the newspapers. The sister who gave me everything she could get. Very nice of him. The story is complete, with photo. There's a picture of his resting house, a picture of his wife leaving the examination site. It's so sorry for him. There is also a photo of Mrs Cavendish who owns the rest house! Lots of pictures. It's all a mystery, isn't it?”
Graciela did not feel disgusted at all when she saw the old woman's pleasure telling her. He even hurt her because he knew Peter himself would hurt her.
Even if he had to die, he would much prefer Mrs. White responded with pleasure from crying tears.
”I really hope that anyone who
has committed the murder was immediately caught and hanged,” continued Mrs. White with rage.
”But now people are no longer hanging in public like they used to be. Too bad. I have always wanted to see people hanged. And I will go quickly quickly to see the person who has killed Mr. Doctor hanged! He must be a very bad man. There is rarely anyone like Doctor! That's smart of him! And good, again! Inevitably, we are always made to laugh. There was something he said! I want to do anything for the Doctor! Really!”
”Ya,” says Graciela. ”He is a very smart man. He's a great man!”
”Everyone in this hospital remembers his kindness! Also all the nurses! And
patient patient! We always feel like we'll heal when we're nearby.”
