estate. The day was still sunny and the radio that morning had announced a hosepipe ban.
Her heart sank as she cycled around the industrial estate. The ground around the shoe factory was bare of bushes and trees. Nowhere to hide. How had the others managed to watch him? If he left in his car, she could hardly keep up with him on her bicycle because, unlike the centre of town, the roads around the industrial estate did not carry much traffic.
She took out her notes and found his home address and headed there instead. Mrs Horrington opened the door and scowled at the young girl with the fading black eye. 'Go away. I'm not buying anything,' she said.
She was a carefully preserved woman with expensively blonded hair. Her make-up was quite thick and her lipstick a scarlet slash across her mouth.
'I'm from the agency,' said Toni. 'I am working on your divorce.'
'This is an outrage,' exclaimed Mrs Horrington. 'Wait there!'
She marched indoors and Toni waited.
At last the door opened again and a mollified Mrs Horrington said, 'You'd better come in. Mrs Raisin says you are not only brilliant but lucky. I'll go along with it for the moment.'
'I wanted to know if your husband had a favourite restaurant for lunch,' said Toni.
'I believe he goes to La Nouvelle Cuisine,' she said. 'Why?'
'I wondered if he might take someone there.'
Mrs Horrington gave a contemptuous laugh. 'He would hardly parade anyone in front of the business community. They all lunch there.'
'How did you guess he was having an affair?'
'New underwear. Smells of scent. Looks guilty as hell.'
'Have you challenged him?'
'Oh, yes. He said it was all nonsense. He said he would take me on a cruise for a second honeymoon. No sign of him booking anything.'
'Do you have a photograph of him? I couldn't find one in the file.'
'I gave one to that Raisin woman. Oh, wait here.'
After a few minutes, Mrs Horrington came back with a photograph. It showed a plump middle-aged man with thinning grey hair and a paunch.
'He's dyed his hair black since that was taken,' said Mrs Horrington. 'Another sign.'
'I'll get back to you,' said Toni.
'You'd better do it quick. If you don't have any results by the weekend, I'm employing another agency.'
Toni pedalled under the unseasonally hot sun into the centre of Mircester. She propped her bike outside the restaurant and went in, the camera slung round her neck.
A pleasant wave of air conditioning hit her. A formidable maitre d' approached. 'I am taking pictures for a new magazine called
'I don't know that my customers would like having their meals interrupted by photographs,' said the maitre d'.
Toni noticed there was a service hatch from the kitchen. 'I could shoot a few photographs through that service hatch,' she said. 'I'll be very discreet. It's best to take photographs when the restaurant is as busy as this.'
The maitre d' hesitated only a moment. Although the lunch hour was still busy, attendance in the evenings had been falling off. The restaurant could do with the publicity.
'Just for a little while,' he said. 'We don't use the service hatch any more. The waiters carry the food straight in from the kitchen.'
He led Toni into the kitchen. She raised the service hatch and then stood back. She wanted anyone looking over to get used to seeing it open. She studied the photograph of Mr Horrington and then cautiously approached the service hatch and looked through.
She saw Mr Horrington just getting to his feet and helping a comparatively young woman into her jacket.
Toni darted out of the kitchen and said to the startled maitre d', 'I've left some equipment outside.'
She positioned herself outside the restaurant. There would not be much point photographing the pair if they stood apart and showed no signs of affection. Mr Horrington could just claim it was a buyer.
He emerged with the woman. Toni raised the camera. He whispered something in her ear and she giggled. Toni snapped a picture, glad the sound of the shutter was drowned by the traffic. Then Mr Horrington looked hurriedly up and down the street, not seeing Toni, who had crouched down behind a parked car. Toni rose to her feet again just in time to witness Mr Horrington and the woman engaged in a steamy kiss.
'Gotcha!' she muttered, clicking the camera and taking as many photographs as she could.
Later, Agatha said, amazed, 'You are lucky. I've followed him for days. Damn it. I concentrated on the evenings. He always seemed to be working late.'
'Then she probably works at the shoe factory as well,' said Toni.
'Good. I'll go and see Mrs Horrington. Do you want to come with me?'
'No, I'll leave it to you.'
'Had lunch?'
'Not yet.'
'Go out and get something and we'll go to that flat when I get back.'
When Agatha had gone, Toni asked Mrs Freedman, 'When do I get my pay? I'm running low.'
'On Friday. I gather you don't have a bank account so you will be paid cash until you set one up. But you haven't yet claimed any expenses. I can give you some money out the petty cash for just now. Take an expenses sheet with you and fill it in. You can put down for lunch at that posh restaurant.'
'I don't have a receipt.'
'We'll assume you lost it. Here's forty pounds for the moment.'
Toni was determined to keep as much of the money as possible, so she went to the nearest Burger King. She was just finishing a burger when she looked through the window and saw her brother, Terry, lurching along the street. He looked drunk. She bent down and hid until he had passed.
Later that afternoon, Agatha took her to see the flat. It was very small: one tiny living room, a small bedroom, a minuscule kitchen and a bathroom. The bathroom was surprisingly the largest room in the place.
'I'm buying the furnishings as well,' said Agatha. 'They're pretty horrible, but you can change them as you go along. You've got a bed at least and I put bedclothes on it and some towels in the bathroom. Now I'll take you home and you can collect your bag. Everything went through quickly and so instead of waiting a fortnight, you can move in right away.'
Toni was choked up with gratitude as Agatha handed her the keys. She had an impulse to hug her but reflected that one probably didn't hug such as the formidable Agatha Raisin.
Agatha, as she drove towards Carsely, was prey to mixed feelings. It was all right to think that Toni was just lucky, but she herself should have thought of that restaurant. Toni's black eye was fading fast. How wonderful to be young again, thought Agatha. How marvellous not to suffer the indignities of approaching old age: spreading waistline, moustache, hair dye and aching hip. She resolved to go back to the beautician's, Beau Monde, in Evesham and get Dawn to work her magic on her face before the weekend.
The weekend! It all seemed a rather silly waste of time the more she thought of it.
Chapter Four
Agatha set out with Charles for the Manor House on Saturday morning feeling low in
