sang all the way to London and told jokes until Agatha dropped Roy outside his Chelsea flat.
'Why not stay the night?' said Roy.
'No, I've got my cats to feed. Must get home.'
'Well, your spots have gone.'
'So they have.' Agatha peered in the driving inirror. 'Nothing's better for the skin than a greasy hamburger.'
She felt quite happy when she reached Carsely again. She would attend the Carsely Ladies' Society meeting that evening at the vicarage. When she walked into the kitchen and saw bowls piled high with fruit, she gave a shudder. There would be sandwiches and fruit cake and perhaps one of Miss Simms's chocolate cakes and she intended to eat as much as she could. Her figure could wait.
It was only when she was seated in the vicarage and reaching out for the first ham sandwich that she realized she had felt no desire to stay in London. Her cleaner had the key to the cottage and would gladly have fed the cats if Agatha had decided to stay in town for the night. Changed days, thought Agatha, where tea and sandwiches at the vicarage took precedence over anything London had to offer.
And then Mary Fortune walked into the room, borne forward on a cloud of French perfume. She was slim but curvaceous in tailored trousers, silk blouse and jacket. All green. She never seemed to wear any other colour.
Agatha, her mouth full of sandwich, was dismally aware of the tightness of the skirt she was wearing. As she looked at Mary, she felt herself becoming fatter and fatter. Mary was carrying a cake she had baked and the women were exclaiming in delight. Caraway cake! How clever! Thought no one still remembered how to bake one. Mary beamed all round as she accepted their plaudits. She saw an empty seat next to Agatha and came and sat down next to her.
'I'm glad you are joining the horticultural society,' said Mary with a charming smile.
'I've ordered a greenhouse,' said Agatha. 'Going to plant my own stuff this year.'
'I'll be glad to give you any cuttings you want,' said Mary.
Reflecting that she wouldn't have the faintest idea what to do with a cutting, Agatha mumbled thanks. Mary was obviously making a determined effort to please, and something in the new Agatha Raisin that was capable of reaching out to any offered warmth like a frost-bitten plant towards the sun, responded gradually with equal warmth. Agatha found herself inviting Mary round for coffee the following morning.
The meeting started with a discussion on catering. Soon after the annual horticultural show, the gardens of Carsely were open to the public to raise money for charity. The Ladies' Society had been approached by the horticultural society, who wanted them to serve teas in the school hall. Agatha, who usually liked to be at the centre of things, kept her mouth shut. She decided at that moment that all her energies must be conserved for
The next morning, Agatha remembered her invitation to Mary. She decided not to bother dressing up. She put on a comfortable but baggy skirt with a loose blouse over it.
But the minute Mary arrived, Agatha wished she had put in some work on her appearance. Mary was wearing a green wool dress which clung to her figure, a figure which had bumps only in the right places. Over it she wore a loose coat of greenish tweed, and despite the coldness of the day outside, Mary was wearing very high-heeled green leather sandals and sheer stockings.
Mary slung off her coat, which she had been wearing loose around her shoulders, and dropped it on a chair. 'What a charming place you have, Mrs Raisin,' she said, looking around. 'I am glad of this opportunity to get to know each other better. Carsely is very pleasant, but people here do not travel much. In fact, for most of them a trip to the market in Moreton is a great adventure.'
'I believe you spent some time in America,' said Agatha, for the first time not wanting to be classed as different from the other village women.
'Yes, New York.'
Agatha had a vague idea that California was the home of the face-lift but decided that they probably had plenty of cosmetic surgeons in New York. There was a plastic look about Mary's face. Still, it could be her, Agatha's, jealousy prompting her to believe it was the result of a face-lift.
'I'll just get the coffee,' said Agatha and then her doorbell rang.
She went and opened it and found James Lacey standing on the step. Her first thought was that he had seen Mary going into her house and that was the reason for the call. 'Come in,' she said bleakly, 'Mary's here,' and turned away immediately and so missed the slightly hunted look in his eyes. In the kitchen, Agatha piled coffee-cups and warmed-up Danish pastries, plates and napkins on to a tray and decided to give up on James Lacey entirely. But she still had a nagging longing to escape upstairs and put on something more glamorous.
James looked up as Agatha came into the room and courteously rose to his feet and took the tray from her and set it on the table. For some reason there was an awkward silence. Agatha wondered what they had been talking about in the brief time she had been out of the room. The fire crackled, the china clinked as she arranged spoons on saucers, and from outside a starling gave out the long descending, sorrowful note of winter.
'I can't stay very long,' said James. 'Just dropped by to see how you were.'
'My morning for callers,' said Agatha as the doorbell went again.
When she opened it, she saw with surprise and delight that her visitor was Detective Sergeant Bill Wong. 'Heard through the grapevine you were back,' he said cheerfully. 'May I come in?'
'Of course,' said Agatha, longing to give the young man a hug but feeling uncharacteristically shy. 'I've got James here and a newcomer, Mary Fortune.'
Mary looked up as Bill Wong came in. She saw a small, chubby man with an oriental cast of features and very shrewd eyes.
Agatha went to get another cup and Bill followed her into the kitchen. 'Competition, Agatha?' he asked gently.
They had come to know each other very well during what Agatha thought of as her 'cases', but she felt that last remark had been going too far.
'I don't know what you mean,' she said huffily.
'Oh, yes, you do,' said Bill, taking a cup from her. 'You'll be getting a face-lift yourself soon.'
Agatha grinned at him. 'And I'd nearly forgotten how much I like you.'
Somehow Bill's very presence made her face Mary and James with equanimity. She introduced Bill properly to Mary and then asked him eagerly about what he was working on.
'The usual round of things,' said Bill. 'You haven't been around for a while, Agatha, so no one has been getting themselves murdered. But there have been terrible amounts of burglaries in the villages. They come down the motorways from Birmingham and London, finding the villages an easy target because people here don't go in so much for security and burglar alarms, and a lot of them still leave their cars unlocked and their doors open. You're well protected here, Agatha. Very sensible of you to get that alarm system in.'
'Perhaps we should all follow Agatha's example,' said James.
Mary gave a little laugh. 'Some of us are not made of money. I think I will continue to trust human nature.'
'I don't think Agatha here is made of money either,' said Bill sharply, 'and considering the reason that she got the system in was because her life was under threat, I think that remark of yours was uncalled for.'
It was obvious to James that Mary was not used to being pulled up for one of her 'little remarks'. Then he realized with surprise that Mary quite often said things which could easily be classed as bitchy. He began to feel he had made a bit of a fool of himself over Mary.
Mary turned slightly pink and said quickly, 'I didn't mean
'Yes, I did,' said Agatha.
Mary spread her well-manicured hands in a deprecatory gesture. 'What more can I say? I'm sorry, sorry,
'You're forgiven,' said Agatha gruffly.
'When is your greenhouse arriving?' asked Mary.
'Today. Any minute now.'
