{"id":2319,"date":"2026-01-03T22:22:59","date_gmt":"2026-01-03T22:22:59","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/at-bertrams-hotel-christie-agatha\/"},"modified":"2026-01-03T22:22:59","modified_gmt":"2026-01-03T22:22:59","slug":"at-bertrams-hotel-christie-agatha","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/at-bertrams-hotel-christie-agatha\/","title":{"rendered":"At Bertram’s Hotel – Christie, Agatha"},"content":{"rendered":"
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Book Preview<\/h3>\n
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Chapter One<\/span><\/span><\/h2>\n<\/div>\n
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I<\/span><\/span>n the heart of the West End, there are many quiet pockets, unknown to almost all but taxi drivers who traverse them with expert knowledge, and arrive triumphantly thereby at Park Lane, Berkeley Square or South Audley Street.<\/p>\n

If you turn off on an unpretentious street from the Park, and turn left and right once or twice, you will find yourself in a quiet street with Bertram\u2019s Hotel on the right-hand side. Bertram\u2019s Hotel has been there a long time. During the war, houses were demolished on the right of it, and a little farther down on the left of it, but Bertram\u2019s itself remained unscathed. Naturally it could not escape being, as house agents would say, scratched, bruised and marked, but by the expenditure of only a reasonable amount of money it was restored to its original condition. By 1955 it looked precisely as it had looked in 1939\u2014dignified, unostentatious, and quietly expensive.<\/p>\n

Such was Bertram\u2019s, patronized over a long stretch of years by the higher \u00e9chelons<\/span> of the clergy, dowager ladies of the aristocracy up from the country, girls on their way home for the holidays from expensive finishing schools. (\u201cSo few places where a girl can stay alone in London but of course it is quite<\/span> all right at Bertram\u2019s. We have stayed there for years.<\/span>\u201d)<\/p>\n

There had, of course, been many other hotels on the model of Bertram\u2019s. Some still existed, but nearly all had felt the wind of change. They had had necessarily to modernize themselves, to cater for a different clientele. Bertram\u2019s, too, had had to change, but it had been done so cleverly that it was not at all apparent at the first casual glance.<\/p>\n

Outside the steps that led up to the big swing doors stood what at first sight appeared to be no less than a Field Marshal. Gold braid and medal ribbons adorned a broad and manly chest. His deportment was perfect. He received you with tender concern as you emerged with rheumatic difficulty from a taxi or a car, guided you carefully up the steps and piloted you through the silently swinging doorway.<\/p>\n

Inside, if this was the first time you had visited Bertram\u2019s, you felt, almost with alarm, that you had reentered a vanished world. Time had gone back. You were in Edwardian England once more.<\/p>\n

There was, of course, central heating, but it was not apparent. As there had always been, in the big central lounge, there were two magnificent coal fires; beside them big brass coal scuttles shone in the way they used to shine when Edwardian housemaids polished them, and they were filled with exactly the rightsized lumps of coal. There was a general appearance of rich red velvet and plushy cosiness. The armchairs were not of this time and age. They were well above the level of the floor, so that rheumatic old ladies had not to struggle in an undignified manner in order to get to their feet. The seats of the chairs did not, as in so many modern high-priced armchairs, stop halfway between the thigh and the knee, thereby inflicting agony on those suffering from arthritis and sciatica; and they were not all of a pattern. There were straight backs and reclining backs, different widths to accommodate the slender and the obese. People of almost any dimension could find a comfortable chair at Bertram\u2019s.<\/p>\n

Since it was now the tea hour, the lounge hall was full. Not that the lounge hall was the only place where you could have tea. There was a drawing room (chintz), a smoking room (by some hidden influence reserved for gentlemen only), where the vast chairs were of fine leather, two writing rooms, where you could take a special friend and have a cosy little gossip in a quiet corner\u2014and even write a letter as well if you wanted to. Besides these amenities of the Edwardian age, there were other retreats, not in anyway publicized, but known to those who wanted them. There was a double bar, with two bar attendants, an American barman to make the Americans feel at home and to provide them with bourbon, rye, and every kind of cocktail, and an English one to deal with sherries and Pimm\u2019s No. 1, and to talk knowledgeably about the runners at Ascot and Newbury to the middle-aged men who stayed at Bertram\u2019s for the more serious race meetings. There was also, tucked down a passage, in a secretive way, a television room for those who asked for it.<\/p>\n

But the big entrance lounge was the favourite place for the afternoon tea drinking. The elderly ladies enjoyed seeing who came in and out, recognizing old friends, and commenting unfavourably on how these had aged. There were also American visitors fascinated by seeing the titled English really getting down to their traditional afternoon tea. For afternoon tea was quite a feature of Bertram\u2019s.<\/p>\n

It was nothing less than splendid. Presiding over the ritual was Henry, a large and magnificent figure, a ripe fifty, avuncular, sympathetic, and with the courtly manners of that long vanished species: the perfect butler. Slim youths performed the actual work under Henry\u2019s austere direction. There were large crested silver trays, and Georgian silver teapots. The china, if not actually Rockingham and Davenport, looked like it. The Blind Earl services were particular favourites. The tea was the best Indian, Ceylon, Darjeeling, Lapsang, etc. As for eatables, you could ask for anything you liked\u2014and get it!<\/p>\n

On this particular day, November the 17th, Lady Selina Hazy, sixty-five, up from Leicestershire, was eating delicious well-buttered muffins with all an elderly lady\u2019s relish.<\/p>\n

Her absorption with muffins, however, was not so great that she failed to look up sharply every time the inner pair of swing doors opened to admit a newcomer.<\/p>\n

So it was that she smiled and nodded to welcome Colonel Luscombe\u2014erect, soldierly, race glasses hanging round his neck. Like the old autocrat that she was, she beckoned imperiously and, in a minute or two, Luscombe came over to her.<\/p>\n

\u201cHallo, Selina, what brings you up to Town?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDentist,\u201d said Lady Selina, rather indistinctly, owing to muffin. \u201cAnd I thought as I was<\/span> up, I might as well go and see that man in Harley Street about my arthritis. You know who I mean.\u201d<\/p>\n

Although Harley Street contained several hundreds of fashionable practitioners for all and every ailment, Luscombe did know whom she meant.<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you any good?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cI rather think he did,\u201d said Lady Selina grudgingly. \u201cExtraordinary fellow. Took me by the neck when I wasn\u2019t expecting it, and wrung it like a chicken.\u201d She moved her neck gingerly.<\/p>\n

\u201cHurt you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt must have done, twisting it like that, but really I hadn\u2019t time to know.\u201d She continued to move her neck gingerly. \u201cFeels all right. Can look over my right shoulder for the first time in years.\u201d<\/p>\n

She put this to a practical test and exclaimed, \u201cWhy I do believe that\u2019s old Jane Marple. Thought she was dead years ago. Looks a hundred.\u201d<\/p>\n

Colonel Luscombe threw a glance in the direction of Jane Marple thus resurrected, but without much interest: Bertram\u2019s always had a sprinkling of what he called fluffy old pussies.<\/p>\n

Lady Selina was continuing.<\/p>\n

\u201cOnly place in London you can still get muffins. Real muffins. Do you know when I went to America last year they had something called<\/span> muffins on the breakfast menu. Not real muffins at all. Kind of teacake with raisins in them. I mean, why call them muffins?\u201d<\/p>\n

She pushed in the last buttery morsel and looked round vaguely. Henry materialized immediately. Not quickly or hurriedly. It seemed that, just suddenly, he was there.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnything further I can get you, my lady? Cake of any kind?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCake?\u201d Lady Selina thought about it, was doubtful.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe are serving very good seed cake, my lady. I can recommend it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSeed cake? I haven\u2019t eaten seed cake for years.<\/span> It is real<\/span> seed cake?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, yes, my lady. The cook has had the recipe for years. You\u2019ll enjoy it, I\u2019m sure.\u201d<\/p>\n

Henry gave a glance at one of his retinue, and the lad departed in search of seed cake.<\/p>\n

\u201cI suppose you\u2019ve been at Newbury, Derek?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes. Darned cold, I didn\u2019t wait for the last two races. Disastrous day. That filly of Harry\u2019s was no good at all.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDidn\u2019t think she would be. What about Swanhilda?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFinished fourth.\u201d Luscombe rose. \u201cGot to see about my room.\u201d<\/p>\n

He walked across the lounge to the reception desk. As he went he noted the tables and their occupants. Astonishing number of people having tea here. Quite like old days. Tea as a meal had rather gone out of fashion since the war. But evidently not at Bertram\u2019s. Who were<\/span> all these people? Two Canons and the Dean of Chislehampton. Yes, and another pair of gaitered legs over in the corner, a Bishop, no less! Mere Vicars were scarce. \u201cHave to be at least a Canon to afford Bertram\u2019s,\u201d he thought. The rank and file of the clergy certainly couldn\u2019t, poor devils. As far as that went, he wondered how on earth people like old Selina Hazy could. She\u2019d only got twopence or so a year to bless herself with. And there was old Lady Berry, and Mrs. Posselthwaite from Somerset, and Sybil Kerr\u2014all poor as church mice.<\/p>\n

Still thinking about this he arrived at the desk and was pleasantly greeted by Miss Gorringe the receptionist. Miss Gorringe was an old friend. She knew every one of the clientele and, like Royalty, never forgot a face. She looked frumpy but respectable. Frizzled yellowish hair (old-fashioned tongs, it suggested), black silk dress, a high bosom on which reposed a large gold locket and a cameo brooch.<\/p>\n

\u201cNumber fourteen,\u201d said Miss Gorringe. \u201cI think you had fourteen last time, Colonel Luscombe, and liked it. It\u2019s quiet.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow you always manage to remember these things, I can\u2019t imagine, Miss Gorringe.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe like to make our old friends comfortable.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTakes me back a long way, coming in here. Nothing seems to have changed.\u201d<\/p>\n

He broke off as Mr. Humfries came out from an inner sanctum to greet him.<\/p>\n

Mr. Humfries was often taken by the uninitiated to be Mr. Bertram in person. Who the actual Mr. Bertram was, or indeed, if there ever had<\/span> been a Mr. Bertram was now lost in the mists of antiquity. Bertram\u2019s had existed since about 1840, but nobody had taken any interest in tracing its past history. It was just there, solid, in fact. When addressed as Mr. Bertram, Mr. Humfries never corrected the impression. If they wanted him to be Mr. Bertram he would be Mr. Bertram. Colonel Luscombe knew his name, though he didn\u2019t know if Humfries was the manager or the owner. He rather fancied the latter.<\/p>\n

Mr. Humfries was a man of about fifty. He had very good manners, and the presence of a Junior Minister. He could, at any moment, be all things to all people. He could talk racing shop, cricket, foreign politics, tell anecdotes of Royalty, give Motor Show information, knew the most interesting plays on at present\u2014advise on places Americans ought really to see in England however short their stay. He had knowledgeable information about where it would suit persons of all incomes and tastes to dine. With all this, he did not make himself too cheap. He was not on tap all the time. Miss Gorringe had all the same facts at her fingertips and could retail them efficiently. At brief intervals Mr. Humfries, like the sun, made his appearance above the horizon and flattered someone by his personal attention.<\/p>\n

This time it was Colonel Luscombe who was so honoured. They exchanged a few racing platitudes, but Colonel Luscombe was absorbed by his problem. And here was the man who could give him the answer.<\/p>\n

\u201cTell me, Humfries, how do all these old dears manage to come and stay here?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh you\u2019ve been wondering about that?\u201d Mr. Humfries seemed amused. \u201cWell, the answer\u2019s simple. They couldn\u2019t afford it. Unless\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

He paused.<\/p>\n

\u201cUnless you make special prices for them? Is that it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMore or less. They don\u2019t know, usually, that they are<\/span> special prices, or if they do realize it, they think it\u2019s because they\u2019re old customers.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd it isn\u2019t just that?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, Colonel Luscombe, I am<\/span> running a hotel. I couldn\u2019t afford actually to lose money.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut how can that pay you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s a question of atmosphere\u2026Strangers coming to this country (Americans, in particular, because they are the ones who have the money) have their own rather queer ideas of what England is like. I\u2019m not talking, you understand, of the rich business tycoons who are always crossing the Atlantic. They usually go to the Savoy or the Dorchester. They want modern d\u00e9cor, American food, all the things that will make them feel at home. But there are a lot of people who come abroad at rare intervals and who expect this country to be\u2014well, I won\u2019t go back as far as Dickens, but they\u2019ve read Cranford<\/span> and Henry James, and they don\u2019t want to find this country just the same as their own! So they go back home afterwards and say: \u2018There\u2019s a wonderful place in London; Bertram\u2019s Hotel, it\u2019s called. It\u2019s just like stepping back a hundred years. It just is<\/span> old England! And the people who stay there! People you\u2019d never come across anywhere else. Wonderful old Duchesses. They serve all the old English dishes, there\u2019s a marvellous old-fashioned beefsteak pudding! You\u2019ve never tasted anything like it; and great sirloins of beef and saddles of mutton, and an old-fashioned English tea and a wonderful English breakfast. And of course all the usual things as well. And it\u2019s wonderfully comfortable. And<\/span> warm. Great log fires.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n

Mr. Humfries ceased his impersonation and permitted himself something nearly approaching a grin.<\/p>\n

\u201cI see,\u201d said Luscombe thoughtfully. \u201cThese people; decayed aristocrats, impoverished members of the old County families, they are all so much mise en sc\u00e8ne?<\/span>\u201d<\/p>\n

Mr. Humfries nodded agreement.<\/p>\n

\u201cI really wonder no one else has thought of it. Of course I found Bertram\u2019s ready-made, so to speak. All it needed was some rather expensive restoration. All the people who come here think it\u2019s something that they\u2019ve discovered for themselves, that no one else knows about.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI suppose,\u201d said Luscombe, \u201cthat the restoration was<\/span> quite expensive?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh yes. The place has got to look<\/span> Edwardian, but it\u2019s got to have the modern comforts that we take for granted in these days. Our old dears\u2014if you will forgive me referring to them as that\u2014have got to feel that nothing has changed since the turn of the century, and our travelling clients have got to feel they can have period surroundings, and still have what they are used to having at home, and can\u2019t really live without!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBit difficult sometimes?\u201d suggested Luscombe.<\/p>\n

\u201cNot really. Take central heating for instance. Americans require\u2014need, I should say\u2014at least ten degrees Fahrenheit higher than English people do. We actually have two quite different sets of bedrooms. The English we put in one lot, the Americans in the other. The rooms all look alike, but they are full of actual differences\u2014electric razors, and showers as well as tubs in some of the bathrooms, and if you want an American breakfast, it\u2019s there\u2014cereals and iced orange juice and all\u2014or if you prefer you can have the English breakfast.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cEggs and bacon?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAs you say\u2014but a good deal more than that if you want it. Kippers, kidneys and bacon, cold grouse, York ham. Oxford marmalade.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI must remember all that tomorrow morning. Don\u2019t get that sort of thing anymore at home.\u201d<\/p>\n

Humfries smiled.<\/p>\n

\u201cMost gentlemen only ask for eggs and bacon. They\u2019ve\u2014well, they\u2019ve got out of the way of thinking about the things there used to be.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, yes\u2026I remember when I was a child\u2026Sideboards groaning with hot dishes. Yes, it was a luxurious way of life.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe endeavour to give people anything they ask for.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIncluding seed cake and muffins\u2014yes, I see. To each according to his need\u2014I see\u2026Quite Marxian.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI beg your pardon?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJust a thought, Humfries. Extremes meet.\u201d<\/p>\n

Colonel Luscombe turned away, taking the key Miss Gorringe offered him. A page boy sprang to attention and conducted him to the lift. He saw in passing that Lady Selina Hazy was now sitting with her friend Jane Something or other.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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Book Preview Chapter One In the heart of the West End, there are many quiet pockets, unknown to almost all but taxi drivers who traverse them with expert knowledge, and arrive triumphantly thereby at Park Lane, Berkeley Square or South Audley Street. If you turn off on an unpretentious street from the Park, and turn … Read more<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":2318,"comment_status":"","ping_status":"","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[142],"class_list":["post-2319","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized","tag-agatha-christie"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2319","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2319"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2319\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/2318"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2319"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2319"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2319"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}