Agatha fought down a surge of competition. Just look where that character defect had got her. Making a right fool of herself. At least she could try to keep clear of James.
Toni hit that idea on the head by saying, “There’s some sort of pre-wedding party tonight at Downboys.”
“Why?” moaned Agatha. “The groom’s not supposed to see the bride before the wedding.”
“I don’t think that bothers people these days,” said Toni.
“Why did you book us in at a pub? Doesn’t Hewes boast a hotel?”
“It has two. But they’ve been taken over by Felicity’s relatives and friends. I think their accommodation is being paid for. Maybe James didn’t know he was expected to pay for his side of the church. The pub, the Jolly Farmer’s pretty reasonable.”
“I hope that doesn’t mean a communal bathroom.”
“No, bathroom en suite promised.”
“I thought you might have wanted to travel down with Harry Beam,” said Agatha.
“He’s following us down. As we’re sharing a room, it’s better if we turn up together,” said Toni.
Hewes was an attractive old market town situated by a river. The pub turned out to be a sort of pub- cum-hotel built round an old courtyard.
Their room was large and pleasant with a low-beamed ceiling, flowery wallpaper and two comfortable beds. There was even a desk with a plug for Internet access.
“What time is this party?” asked Agatha.
“It’s at eight o’ clock this evening. Buffet supper thrown in so we don’t need to bother about food.”
“How did you find all this out?” asked Agatha.
“I phoned up for directions and found out about the buffet supper.”
“I wonder if James hoped I wouldn’t attend,” fretted Agatha. “I’ve a good mind not to go.”
“Don’t leave me on my own,” said Toni.
“I thought that by this time you wouldn’t be afraid of anything,” said Agatha.
“Not when I’m working,” said Toni. “But the English middle classes frighten me when I have to meet them socially. I feel they can see right into my council-estate soul.”
_____________
Toni had hardly any time to get a shower and change. Agatha monopolised the bathroom and then covered her bed in dresses and trouser suits, worrying over what to wear. At last she settled for a blue and gold evening jacket with a short black velvet skirt and high heels.
Toni was wearing a short white chiffon dress and gold leather high-heeled sandals.
Agatha felt a pang on envy. Oh, to be young and wrinkle-free again!
Both were nervous when they set out: Toni hoping she did not make some social gaffe or other, and Agatha dreading that James would confront her over her visits to the battlefields.
“I’ll lie!” she said out loud.
“About what?” asked Toni.
“Never mind.”
The village of Downboys was built around a crossroads. In the centre was an old pub, a church and a small grocery store. It seemed a very gloomy sort of place. Although the evening sky above was still cloudless after a sunny day, the trunks of the trees were black with damp.
“Let me see,” muttered Toni, squinting down at a piece of paper on her lap, “I turn left at the crossroads, then a few yards and make a right into a cul-de-sac and their house is the villa at the end. I can hear music. They must have hired a band. This is it. Damn! The drive’s crammed with cars. We’d better park here and get out and walk.”
They walked up the drive towards the sound of the jaunty music. “Isn’t it still usual to have a stag party for the man the night before and a hen party for the women?” grumbled Agatha.
“I thought it was,” said Toni.
The Bross-Tilkingtons’ villa was large and Victorian. The front door was standing open. They walked in. A young man wearing nothing more than a bow tie and a leather apron asked them for their invitations.
“I didn’t know this was fancy dress,” said Agatha.
“I’m from Naked Servants,” smiled the young man. He studied their invitations and then said, “Go through the house and out through the French windows. The party is in the marquee on the lawn.”
“God, how naff!” muttered Agatha. “Am I getting old, Toni? That vision didn’t rouse a single hormone.”
“Cheered me up,” said Toni. “I’m more at home with vulgar people. And a semi-naked servant is definitely vulgar.”
Agatha hesitated. “Maybe I’ll go back to the pub and drive back later and pick you up.”
“Not like you,” said Toni, taking her arm. “Let’s face the music.”
They walked out through the French windows towards a huge striped marquee on the lawn.
There was another nearly naked young man at the entrance. He took their cards and bawled out their names but his voice was lost in the sounds of a medley from Mary Poppins being belted out by a brass band.
“Food and tables,” said Agatha. “Let’s grab something to eat and drink and sit down.”
