Agatha Raisin & the Vicious Vet

'Forgive me. Of course he does. It's just that I feel there is something cold and calculating about him. Do be careful.'

'I am not sweet sixteen' said Agatha huffily.

'Exactly'

That 'exactly' seemed to Agatha to be saying, 'You are a middle-aged woman easily flattered by the attentions of a younger man'

'In any case' Mrs Bloxby went on, 'do go very carefully on the roads. It's starting to snow'

Agatha rang off, feeling flat, and then she began to smile. Of course! Mrs Bloxby was jealous. All the women in the village were smitten by the vet. But what was that she had said about snow? Agatha twitched back the curtain and looked out. Wet snow was falling, but it was not lying on the ground.

At seven thirty she drove off in all the discomfort of a tight body stocking under a gold silk Armani dress embellished with a rope of pearls. Her heels were very high, so she kicked them off and drove up the hill from the village in her stockinged feet.

The snow was getting thicker and suddenly, near the top of the hill, she crossed over a sort of snow-line and found herself driving over thick snow. But ahead lay the tempting vision of dinner with the vet.

She pressed her foot on the brake to slow down as she neared the A44 and quite suddenly the car went into a skid. It was all so quick, so breathlessly fast. Her headlights whirled crazily round the winter landscape, and then there was a sickening crunch as she hit a stone wall on her left. She switched off the lights and the engine with a trembling hand and sat still.

A car going the other way, towards the village, stopped. A door opened and closed. Then a dark figure loomed up on Agatha's side of the car. She opened the window. 'Are you all right, Mrs Raisin?' came James Lacey's voice.

Before the vet, before the fiasco of the Bahamas, Agatha had often fantasized about James Lacey rescuing her from some accident. But all she could think about now was that precious date.

'I think nothing's broken,' said Agatha and then struck the wheel in frustration. 'Bloody, bloody snow. I say, can you run me into Evesham?'

'You must be joking. It's to get worse, or so the weather forecast said. Fish Hill will be closed.'

'Oh, no' wailed Agatha. 'Maybe we could go another way. Maybe through Chipping Campden.'

'Don't be silly. Does your engine still work?'

Agatha switched it on and it sprang into life.

'What about the lights?'

Agatha switched them on, glaring out at a snow- covered wilderness.

James Lacey inspected the damage to the front of the car. 'The glass in your headlamps is all shattered and you'll need a new bumper, radiator, and number-plate. You'd best back out and follow me down to the village. If you won't run me, then I'll get a cab'

'You can try' He walked off to his own car and Agatha heard him starting up. She reversed and followed him. He parked outside his own house, waved to her, and strode indoors.

Agatha leaped out of her own car, forgetting she was in her stockinged feet, and ran into the house. She seized the phone and, looking at a list of taxi-cab companies pinned to the wall, she began to phone them one after the other, but no taxi driver was prepared to go to Evesham or anywhere else on such a night

Dammit, thought Agatha furiously, my car still works. I'm going.

She pulled on a pair of boots over her wet feet and went out again. But she was half-way up the hill again when both her headlamps blew, leaving her crawling along in snowy darkness.

Wearily, she turned the car and headed back^ down to the village again. Back indoors, she phoned the Chinese restaurant. No, came a voice at the other end, Mr Bladen had not turned up. Yes, he had booked a table. No, he had definitely not arrived.

Feeling very flat, Agatha phoned Directory Enquiries and got a Mircester number for the vet. A woman answered the phone. 'I am afraid Mr Bladen is busy at the moment' The voice was cool and amused.

'This is Agatha Raisin' snapped Agatha. 'He was to meet me in a restaurant in Evesham tonight'

'You could hardly have expected him to drive in such weather'

'Who is speaking, please?' demanded Agatha.

'This is his wife'

'Oh!' Agatha dropped the receiver like a hot coal.

So he was still married after all! What was it all about? But if he were married, then he should not have asked her out. Agatha had very firm views about dating married men.

She felt somehow as if he had set out to deliberately make a fool of her. Men! And James Lacey! He had simply gone indoors without calling to see if she were indeed unharmed after her accident.

Agatha felt silly and now she had only a ruined car to show for her dreams of a date with a handsome man. She passed the rest of the evening filling in an accident claim form, the purring Hodge on her lap.

The next day dawned foggy as well as snowy. Once more Agatha felt that old trapped feeling. She waited and waited for the phone to ring, sure that Paul Bladen would call her to say something. But it sat there, squat in its silence.

At last she decided to pay a visit to her neighbour, James Lacey, if only to explain to him, subtly, that she had not been pursuing him. But although a thin column of smoke rose from his chimney, although his snow-covered car was parked outside, he did not answer the door.

Agatha felt well and truly snubbed. She was sure he was in there.

Hodge, in the selfish way of cats, played happily in the snow in the garden, stalking imaginary prey.

In the afternoon, the doorbell went. Agatha peered at herself in the hall mirror, grabbed a lipstick she always kept ready on the hall table and painted her mouth. Then, smoothing down her dress, she opened the door.

'Oh, it's you' she said, looking down into the round oriental features of Detective Sergeant Bill Wong.

'That's not much of a greeting,' he said. 'Any chance of a cup of coffee?'

'Come in,' said Agatha, leaning over his shoulder and peering hopefully up and down the lane.

'Who were you expecting?' he asked, when they were seated in the kitchen.

'I was expecting an apology. Our new vet, Paul Bladen, invited me out for dinner in Evesham last night, but I had a skid at the top of the road and couldn't make it. But as it turned out, he didn't even get to the restaurant. I phoned his home and a woman answered it. She said she was his wife'

'Couldn't be' said Bill. 'He was separated from his wife for about five years and the divorce came through last year'

'What's he playing at?' cried Agatha, exasperated.

'You mean, who's he playing with. Snowy night, no way of getting to Evesham, had a bit of fun at home instead.'

'Well, he should have phoned anyway' said Agatha.

'Talking about your love life, how did you get on in the Bahamas?'

'Nice' said Agatha. 'Got some sun'

'See anything of Mr Lacey?'

'Didn't expect to. He'd gone to Cairo'

'And you knew that before you left?'

'What is this?' exclaimed Agatha. 'A police interrogation?'

'Just friendly questions. Glad to see Hodge is happy. Looking very fit'

'Oh, Hodge is in the best of health'

The almond-shaped eyes studying her so intently glittered slightly in the white light from the snow coming in the kitchen window.

'Then why did poor Hodge have to go to this vet?'

'Have you been spying on me?'

'No, I just happened to be passing yesterday and I saw you carrying Hodge in a basket to the surgery. You should wear more sensible footwear in this weather'

'I just wanted to check the cat had all his shots' said Agatha, 'and what I choose to wear on my feet is my business'

He raised his hands and let them fall. 'Sorry. Funny thing about Bladen, though'