Chapter 11
When I awoke next morning I was alone. In a panic I rushed into the living room. Felicity cane in from the kitchen with a tray of breakfast things. At the same time, Poirot appeared. He smiled delightedly at us. "Good morning, mes amis. I trust you both are well? Miss Lemon, I am pleased to see you up and about."
"I made breakfast, Mr. Poirot. I wanted to thank you both for your kindness, I'm not sure I could have coped without you."
A cheerful knock sent Felicity off to answer it. In her absence, Poirot raised an eyebrow at me, and I attempted to maintain a stoic impression. Inspector Japp joined us for breakfast and we could tell he had some news he was struggling to keep to himself.
"Japp, for heaven's sake, spit it out before you explode."
"We got 'im." Felicity and I exchanged glances. She nodded at me. It was what we agreed last night. She put down her cup.
"Mr. Poirot, could I ask you for a favour? You too inspector?" They glanced at each other warily and struggled no to laugh at their predicament.
"I doubt we can shield you entirely from the press, but be reassured, ma petite, we will do all we can."
"Oh, that's not it. I don't want to think about that just now. I wanted to ask...Arthur and I, we need a best man and a father of the bride, if you're both willing"
Japp stared at us in shock, quite unable to speak. A delighted smile spread across Poirot's face and he leapt to his feet, embracing us in a fierce hug and shaking my hand. He congratulated us in his usual way, a mixture of French and English and declaring that he determined to take us all out for a celebratory lunch. It was a relief to finally hear the flat filled with joy, and I marveled at just how far one's loved ones will go...for you.