Agatha Raisin and the Witch of Wyckhadden

'Probably revenge,' said the colonel when Agatha had finished.

'For what?'

'Oh, I remember when Jessop was in charge of a crackdown on that fairground, charged them with gluing down the coconuts on the shy and bending the sights of the rifles.'

Agatha felt disappointed. 'I had hoped their behaviour might have had something to do with the murders.'

'Titanic is showing at the cinema in Wyckhadden,' said the colonel. 'We all thought of going.'

'Why not?' said Agatha wearily. This lot were never going to discuss the murders and the idea of losing herself in a long film and forgetting about mayhem and murder was tempting. 'When did you plan to go?'

'We're going to the matinee. Special rates for old age pensioners.'

'That leaves me out,' said Agatha tartly.

'If you say so,' remarked the colonel, and Agatha looked at his old face quickly for signs of malice but it showed nothing.

Left to eat, Agatha carefully sliced a line down the middle of her plate and ate half. Once, in an attempt to up-market her reading, she had read Muriel Spark's A Far Cry From Kensington. In it, the heroine had figured out that if she ate only half of everything on her plate, she would lose weight. That had struck Agatha as being eminently sensible and she was hardly likely to starve, a half of the hotel's portions being the equivalent of any other hotel's full meal.

She was just finishing her coffee when old Harry popped his head round the door and said they were ready to leave. Agatha was travelling in one taxi with Harry and Daisy, the colonel in the one in front with Mary and Jennifer. Daisy squeezed Agatha's arm and whispered, 'Come to my room later. I must speak to you.'

Agatha nodded. At last! A crack in the silence.

The cinema was in the middle of the promenade and packed with old people. To Agatha's surprise, a haze of cigarette smoke was drifting in front of the screen. By all that was holy, a cinema which still allowed smoking. She was fumbling in her bag for her cigarettes when she realized with a sort of wonder that she had not smoked once or thought of it while she was out with Jimmy. She kept her handbag firmly closed and concentrated on the screen, which was showing advertisements for local businesses.

The film was one of those ones the Americans ruin by insisting on putting 1990s values onto historical events. The hero was miles too young to interest Agatha. But the special effects were stupendous. In fact, Agatha could swear, just as the Titanic hit that iceberg, that she could feel the water lapping around her feet. Then there was shouts and curses. There was water lapping about her feet.

'Must be an exceptionally high tide,' Agatha heard the colonel say. 'We'd better leave by the back door.'

The audience were filing out, apart from a few stalwarts who had put their feet up on the seat in front. The film was still running. They all filed outside into the pouring rain.

'Let's have a look at the sea,' said Jennifer. 'We're all wet anyway.'

They walked down a side street towards the promenade. Huge waves were crashing onto the promenade and sweeping up the street.

'Does this often happen?' asked Agatha.

'Every so often,' said Mary. 'It's a wonder the foundations of that cinema haven't been removed.'

They made their way to the hotel around the back streets. 'Will the hotel be flooded?' asked Agatha.

'The sea is never so ferocious along at the pier,' said Harry, 'and the staff always put out sandbags.'

They walked down a side street leading to the hotel. 'Look at that!' cried Agatha as a huge wave crashed right over the dance hall at the end of the pier. 'Surely it can't withstand a battering like that.'

'Tide'll be turning soon,' said the colonel.

Sure enough, sandbags had been piled up in front of the hotel. Agatha went up to her room to change into dry tights and shoes. How very British we all are, she thought as she dried her feet. No one demanded their money back. I bet no one's even written to the newspapers suggesting the cinema should be located at the back of the town. No, all they'll say is, 'We often have weather like this. It doesn't last long. Mustn't grumble.'

There was a knock at the door. Agatha slipped on a pair of slippers and opened it. Daisy stood there. 'Oh, you wanted a word with me,' said Agatha eagerly. 'Do come in.'

Daisy came in and closed the door behind her. She sat down in a chair by the window. 'Such dreadful rain,' she murmured.

'Would you like tea or something?' asked Agatha.

'No, I just want to talk.'

Agatha sat on the bed. 'So talk, Daisy.'

Daisy looked out again at the pouring rain. 'Did you enjoy the film?'

'All right until we got washed out. Is that what you wanted to discuss? The film?'

'No, no, of course not.' Daisy plucked nervously at her skirt. She's a bag of nerves, thought Agatha. It must be something about the murders.

Agatha waited patiently. Then Daisy said, 'You went off for a drink with the colonel last night.'

'I did not,' said Agatha crossly. 'Last night I was freezing to death at the top of a Ferris wheel.'

'I'm sorry. I forgot. Of course, it was the evening before that. I saw you go off with the colonel.'

'We went for one drink, that's all.'

Daisy clasped her hands and looked beseechingly at Agatha. 'Are you keen on him?'

'Colonel Lyche? No, frankly. Too old for me.'

'But why did you go off with him?'

'I wanted to ask him about the murders. Look here, Daisy, I find it most odd that there have been two murders committed and yet none of you ever want to discuss them.'

'Murder is not a thing ladies discuss,' said Daisy primly.

Agatha looked at her in exasperation. 'Is that really all you wanted to talk to me about? I mean, to warn me off the colonel.'

'I never--'

'I mean,' said Agatha, her tone softening, 'you are keen on the colonel and you thought I might take him away from you.'

'Yes.'

'Well, the colonel has no interest in me whatsoever.'

'But I saw you walking on the pier and he took your arm.'

'He's a gentleman. It was a gentlemanly thing to do. That's all. How long have you been keen on the colonel?'

'Years,' said Daisy sadly.

'Have you ever thought of asking him out for a drink?'

'Oh, no, I couldn't!'

'Why?'

'Ladies don't.'

'This is the nineties. They do now,' said Agatha. 'Look, that Gilbert and Sullivan company has moved to Hadderton. You could get a couple of tickets and say they were given to you by a friend, and would he like to use the other ticket?'

'I'll try that,' said Daisy, her eyes shining.

'Do you ever read any magazines?' asked Agatha curiously.

'Yes, I read newspaper supplements and sometimes Good Housekeeping.'

'Not Cosmopolitan?'

'No. Why?'

'Just wondered,' said Agatha, who had been thinking about all the raunchy articles on sex that appeared in women's magazines these days. 'Go for it, Daisy. At least you'll have an evening on your own with him.'

Daisy had just left when the phone rang. It was Jimmy, who said he was downstairs and would like to see her.

Agatha deftly applied a fresh coat of make-up, put on high heels instead of her slippers and made her way