'Yes.' Amy took out a small square of handkerchief and blew her nose fiercely. 'She's taken away all our husbands. Harriet wants her tarred and feathered.'
Agatha fished out a bottle of Gordon's gin she had brought with her. 'Drink?'
'Please.'
Agatha made two large gin and tonics. Then she took out two frozen packets of lasagna and put the first one in the microwave, and when that was done, put in the second, then gave the first an extra twirl.
She served the meals and then, sitting down opposite Amy, asked, 'What does your husband do?'
'He works for a seed company just outside Norwich.'
'And is he having an affair with Mrs. Wilden?'
'Oh, no.'
'Then what's the problem?'
'It's just that he goes to the pub every night, and so does Henry Freemantle and Peter Dart.'
'Harriet's and Polly's husbands, too?'
'Yes.' Amy gave a dismal sniff and poked at her lasagna.
'And all they do is go to look at the fair Mrs. Wilden?'
Amy nodded.
'And does she encourage them?'
'I don't think Rosie Wilden has to do anything special. She just is.'
'So why don't you and Harriet and Polly go to the pub?'
'We couldn't do that!'
'Why?' asked Agatha patiently.
'It's an old-fashioned village. They don't mind women in the pub at lunchtime, but they're frowned on in the evening.'
'I've never heard anything more ridiculous. I'll phone Polly and Harriet. We'll all go.'
'The husbands will be furious.'
'Time they were.'
Agatha went through to the phone, which was in a small table in the hall. She called through to Amy, 'What are their phone numbers?'
Amy gave the numbers but then started to protest. Agatha ignored her. She phoned Harriet first and said curtly that Amy was crying her eyes out, so she was taking her to the pub, and did Harriet want to come and bring Polly.
There was a silence and then Harriet said harshly, 'Do you know what you are doing?'
'Well, yes. I don't see why you should all be stuck at home while your husbands are in the pub. Into battle, Harriet.'
'All right,' said Harriet. 'I'll do it. Damn it. I'll do it.'
'See you both there in half an hour.' Agatha rang off and returned to the kitchen.
'Right, Amy,' she said. 'Upstairs with me. I'm going to make your face up.'
'But I never wear make-up. Jerry doesn't like me wearing make-up.'
'I think your trouble is you always do what Jerry wants. Upstairs.'
Agatha deftly worked on Polly's face-foundation cream, powder, blusher, mascara, eye-shadow and lipstick. 'There!' she said a last. 'You look more like a human being.'
She jerked open her wardrobe door and took out a black dress. 'Pop this on. What size of shoes do you wear?'
'Fives. But-'
'You need heels. Nothing like heels to give you confidence. Get a move on.'
Amy, used to bending to any will stronger than her own, meekly put on the little black dress and a pair of high-heeled shoes. Agatha put some gold jewellery round her neck. 'Now, straighten your shoulders. Right. Great. Forward march!'
Harriet and Polly were waiting outside the pub. 'You look glamorous, Amy,' said Harriet. This was a wild exaggeration, but had the effect of making Amy smile with delight.
'Here we go,' said Agatha Raisin and pushed open the door.
Behind the bar, in the low, smoky room full of men, Rosie Wilden glowed like a jewel. She was wearing a soft white chiffon blouse with a plunging neckline.
Agatha found a table in a corner for her new friends. Silence had fallen at their entrance and the silence continued as Agatha walked to the bar and said to Rosie Wilden, 'Have you any champagne?'
'I do indeed, Mrs. Raisin.'
'Two bottles,' ordered Agatha. 'That's for starters.'
'Big occasion?'
'Yes, my birthday,' lied Agatha.
She returned through the still silent men to the table. 'Our husbands are glaring at us,' whispered Amy. 'That's the three of them, over at the bar.'
'Good,' said Agatha. 'Now when the champagne arrives, I want you all to sing `Happy Birthday to You.' '
'Is it your birthday?' asked Polly.
'No, but they don't know that and you don't want to look as if you've come in to check on them.'
Rosie Wilden came round the bar with a tray of glasses. Then she turned and shouted, 'Barry, could you be a love and bring the bottles and ice bucket over here?'
Agatha's gardener came up with the bottles and ice bucket. He was not overwhelmingly handsome, but, decided Agatha, he was the best-looking man in the pub. 'Barry,' cried Agatha. 'Do join us. It's my birthday.'
Barry grinned and shuffled his feet. 'I'm with me two mates.'
'Bring them over. We'd better have two more bottles, Mrs. Wilder.'
Barry returned with his two friends and they crammed in round the table. Rosie deftly opened the first bottle. To Agatha's delight, Barry, unprompted, began to sing 'Happy Birthday to You' in a strong baritone. He was joined by his friends, and then Harriet, Polly and Amy joined in.
'You have a lovely voice, Barry,' said Agatha. 'Know anything else?'
Barry, who had been already well oiled before he started on the champagne, got to his feet and proceeded to give them an Elvis Presley impersonation, 'Jailhouse Rock,' complete with gyrating hips and pretend guitar.
The three women, aware of their glaring husbands over by the bar, laughed and cheered. One of Barry's friends, Mark, a weedy youth with a rolled-up cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth, said, 'Don't half cheer the place up, a bit of a song. What about one of you ladies?'
To Agatha's amusement, Polly, slightly red about the nose-must have had a few to bolster her, thought Agatha-rose to her feet and belted out 'The Fishermen of England,' while they all drank steadily and more champagne appeared. The locals, hungry for a free drink, began to crowd round the table until the errant husbands were left isolated at the bar.
'Why don't those three join the party,' shouted Agatha.
'That's our husbands,' said Harriet.
'Your husbands!' Agatha affected amazement. 'What on earth are they doing on their own? Do they come to ogle the barmaid?'
The three promptly came over but could not get near the table for the crowd. Agatha called for more songs and more champagne and kept the party going until Rosie called, 'Time, gentlemen, please.'
They all crowded out into the night. 'What a marvellous evening,' said Agatha loudly. 'See you here tomorrow night, girls?'
The 'girls' were now flanked by their glaring husbands, but Harriet said gamely, 'Same time, same place, Agatha.'
Agatha saw the lank figure of the village policeman crossing the green and decided to leave her car where it was. She walked home, somewhat unsteadily, let herself in and swallowed as much cold water as she could to try to stave off next morning's hangover.
Next morning, she was awakened by a furious ringing of her doorbell. She put on a dressing-gown and struggled downstairs. The clock in the hall said eight o'clock.
