She glanced at the noticeboard in the foyer. “Engagement Party—Betjeman Suite.”
The Betjeman Suite was so called because the famous poet and lover of Victoriana would have adored it. From its faux medieval ceiling to the enormous marble fireplace at one end, it had not been changed since the hotel was built in 1875.
Agatha left her red cashmere cloak in the cloakroom outside the suite, took a deep breath and made her entrance. She was surrounded by familiar faces and cries of “Agatha, you look fabulous!”
Nervously her eyes scanned the room. Charles came to join her. “Where’s James?” asked Agatha.
“He’ll be here shortly. They got held up by the fog. Have a drink.” Charles grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waitress and handed it to her.
Agatha looked round. Toni was wearing a skimpy black dress with thin shoulder straps. Her fair hair was piled up on her head and shone under the lights from the huge crystal chandelier above her. I’ve lost a good detective, thought Agatha bitterly. I’ve always prided myself on being a good businesswoman and not letting personal feelings get in the way. What went wrong? And so ran Agatha’s troubled thoughts, unaware that her whole life had been propelled by emotion.
A cheer went up and Agatha slowly turned round. James stood beaming in the doorway, Felicity Bross- Tilkington on his arm.
Agatha felt any confidence she had left seeping out through the soles of her shoes. Felicity was exquisite. She had wide-spaced grey eyes in a tanned face. Her thick brown hair cascaded down on her shoulders in an artful arrangement of waves and curls. Straight hair, as Agatha knew, had just been damned as passe. Her figure was slim and showed no signs of rigorous dieting. She was wearing a low-cut gold evening top which showed off the smooth perfection of her genuine tan and the stunning necklace of old gold and rubies around her neck.
James looked as proud as Punch as he gazed down at his fiancee. He never once looked at me like that, thought Agatha, but let’s face it, I never once looked like that. James led Felicity straight up to Agatha and introduced her. “I am so pleased to meet you,” said Felicity. “Goodness, after all James told me about you, I expected to meet someone quite ferocious.”
“Here, have another glass of champagne,” said Charles at Agatha’s side. James introduced him to Felicity. “Come and talk to me, Felicity,” said Charles. “I think we know some of the same people.”
James smiled at Agatha. “You look great. Long hair suits you. So what do you think of Felicity?”
“She is certainly very beautiful,” said Agatha. “Where did you meet?”
“In Paris, at my friend Sylvan’s party. Is he here?” He looked around the room. “He’s probably held up by the fog. So I have your blessing?” asked James, studying Agatha intently.
“Yes, James.”
“You don’t think I’m too old for her? She’s only thirty-two.”
“Doesn’t matter for a man. Has she been married before?”
“No.”
That’s odd, thought Agatha. How does anyone that beautiful get to thirty-two without being married?
Others began to cluster round. Agatha saw Mrs. Bloxby and went over to her. “How do you feel, Mrs. Raisin?” asked Mrs. Bloxby.
Agatha looked at her friend in dawning relief. “Do you know, I feel just fine. I really do. Now that I’m here and I’ve met her, it’s all rather pleasant. James seems like a different person to me now. For the first time in my life, I’m over men.”
They were joined by Bill Wong and the staff of the agency and they all began to talk shop.
Mrs. Bloxby joined her husband, who was standing moodily in a corner of the room.
“Can we go now?” he asked.
“Now, really, Alf. We can hardly go now. The party’s just begun.”
Agatha was aware of James standing beside her and turned round. “Do you
“Of course. Were you hoping I would be jealous?”
“Something like that.”
“But you are in love?”
“Oh, yes. She listens to everything I say and takes an interest in my work, particularly military history. Instead of the travel books, I might suggest doing a series of guides to famous battlefields.”
“I always listened to you,” said Agatha defiantly.
“I remember one occasion talking to you about the Crimean War and your eyes glazed over.”
“I listened to every word!”
“When was it?”
“Can’t remember. I never was good at dates. Was that the one with the longbows?”
“That was Agincourt. See? You haven’t a clue.”
“James, darling. You’re neglecting your other guests.” Felicity took his arm.
“So I am. Talk to you later, Agatha.”
“Wait a bit. When are you getting married?”
