A Most Surprising Turn of Events

When Japp and Miss Lemon arrived at the hotel they did not leave one another and go to their respective rooms immediately. Although it was just midnight and both were terribly tired, neither particularly felt like being alone. They went into the tiny little lobby where the sleepy eyed owner, who complained of indigestion, was just making a cup of chamomile tea. He offered some to them and they all drank together. After a time the owner succumbed to the affects of the tea and went back to his little room to bed, and the two friends were left alone.
“I do hope,” Miss Lemon began, but then she stopped.
“Hope what?” Japp asked.
Miss Lemon lifted a gloved hand and wiped her eye a little before she spoke. “I hope he’ll be alright.”
Japp looked down at his now cold cup of tea. He’d never liked chamomile, nor had he ever liked this sort of situation. Emotions, particularly tender ones, had never been his forte. Give him a case, any kind of criminal, really, or even a good game of rugby or an interesting newspaper, and he was in his element. Give him something he could actually do with his hands to help someone, something he could really sink his teeth into, and he’d do it in a second, even if it did cost him a little. But ask for compassion, gentility, verbal or physical sings of affection or comfort and he was a child trying to take a university chemistry course.
His eyes never left his cup of chamomile tea, but after a moment’s rather awkward silence he reached out, gently patted Miss Lemon’s hand, and then returned his own hand to his lap.
“It’ll all work out for the best,” he said slowly. “It always does eventually, I find.”
Miss Lemon looked up at Japp and smiled. “Thank you, Commissioner,” she said.
He smiled hesitantly when a yawn caught him off guard. Miss Lemon stood quickly.
“Oh, I’m very sorry. I should let you get to bed. Good night, Commissioner.” She turned before he had time to respond and was on her way to her room.
----------------------
Early the next morning I phoned Japp and informed him of Poirot’s recovery. He told me he would give the news to Miss Lemon when she came down for breakfast, and they would most likely be over for a visit within the hour. A short time later when Cinderella and I arrived at the hospital ourselves I could see Poirot was indeed doing significantly better this morning. He was talking and laughing with his fiancé and her son, and altogether seemed almost completely back to his old self, save he looked a little weak. The doctor said if Poirot kept up as he was today, or even got better, he would allow him to go home the next day. After a time, and a great deal of persuasion from her fiance, the Countess, who was obviously very tired, consented to go back to Poirot’s little cottage with my wife for a few hours of rest. As for myself, I stayed with Poirot and Nikki, who was apparently quite used to not sleeping very much, at the little hospital. To pass the time I had brought Poirot’s chess board from home and was subsequently being beaten rather badly in turns my Poirot and his step-son-to-be. It was not long before Japp and Miss Lemon arrived. They both seemed very relieved to see Poirot sitting up in bed and looking quite healthy.
“You should take more care of yourself, Mr. Poirot,” Miss Lemon said in a somewhat scolding tone. “Why didn’t you tell anyone about your chest pains?”
Poirot waved his hands in Gallic fashion. “Ah, they were really nothing.”
“Well apparently they were something,” growled Japp, “Or you wouldn’t be here, now would you?”
Poirot looked a little sheepish, but did not reply. He decided to change the subject by inviting Japp to play a game of chess against him. Japp declined, saying domino’s was more in his line, and suggested Miss Lemon take his place. Poirot looked at her inquiringly.
“Oh, I couldn’t,” she said modestly. “I haven’t played in years.”
“Oh come on, Miss Lemon,” Nikki urged. “Why don’t you try playing Captain Hastings? He’s – erm…” he paused suddenly, glancing at me.
“He meant to say,” I smiled, “That I’m not very good. He’s quite right, of course. I could never really get my mind around the game.”
“Well…” she paused, glancing around at the four men in the room. I noticed her eyes rested on Japp for half a second longer than the rest of us, and he gave her an encouraging smile and a little wave of his hand.
“Go on,” he said.
At last Miss Lemon consented, and we sat down to play. My old friend turned out to be, contrary to what she had made us think, a very talented player.
We all took turns playing and talking together for some time, and when at last I looked at my watch I was astonished at how much time had gone by.
“Good lord!” I exclaimed. “I had better go.”
“What is it, mon ami?” Poirot asked me.
“Judith is coming in on the next train and I’ll be late.”
“Ah!” Poirot exclaimed joyously. “Mademoiselle Judith! I had forgotten she was coming to us so soon.”
I hesitated. I knew the reason she’d left Argentina early, but I was not positive she wanted me to share the reason, even with Poirot.
“Yes, well, she was eager to meet the Countess,” I said hesitantly, and it was not altogether a lie.
Poirot smiled rather like a proud papa. I returned his smile, said a quick goodbye, and left. As I sat in my cab on my way to the station I had a moment’s silence to think over something that had been nagging at the back door of my mind the entire time since Japp and Miss Lemon has arrived. They had, I’d noticed, paid rather closer attention to each other than either had ever done in past years. Of course Japp had been married them, but could it possibly be that now… no, I thought to myself, not at their ages. But both were slightly younger than Poirot, and he and the countess certainly proved age was no barrier to romance. I thought about them again. They certainly seemed to have made friends, but only time would tell if it ever went anywhere beyond that. Now wouldn’t that be a most surprising turn of events?