Agatha Raisin and the Fairies of Fryham

well described it, and so it was his fault that she was chasing after him, but she said nothing about it, asking instead, ‘Now tell me all about Fryfam.’
    So Agatha did, and when she got to the end of her adventures, she had a sudden compulsion to tell Mrs Bloxby about those fairy lights.
    ‘“There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in our philosophy,”’ said Mrs Bloxby.
    ‘Who the hell’s Horatio?’ demanded Agatha.
    ‘It’s a quote from Hamlet . I probably didn’t get it right. I mean, that odd things do happen. On the other hand, if, as you say, some of the villagers were angry with you, then it follows they might have been trying to give you a scare.’
    ‘It could be, but it wasn’t just the lights, it was that odd faint laughter. Half of it seemed to be inside my head.’
    ‘Well, don’t worry about it. You’re home now. Tell me about Charles. He must be very fond of you to stick by you through everything.’
    ‘I don’t know what Charles thinks of me,’ said Agatha. ‘This cake is actually very good. Trust that rotten bitch to make good cakes. Yes, I think Charles gets easily bored and that’s why he stayed. The murders provided a diversion for him.’
    ‘That seems a bit heartless.’
    ‘I don’t really know what Charles thinks any more than I ever knew what James thought of me.’
    ‘Plenty of men around, Mrs Raisin.’
    ‘Not for women of my age.’
    ‘Rubbish. You’ve been so tied up in thoughts of James, you’ve never really noticed anyone else.’
    Agatha was about to tell Mrs Bloxby about the forthcoming visit to the therapist and then decided against it. It seemed such a weak thing to do, to go to a therapist. It would seem like admitting there was something mentally wrong with her and she couldn’t cope on her own.
    They talked about parish matters and then Agatha rose to take her leave.
    ‘You are over James, aren’t you?’ asked Mrs Bloxby on the doorstep.
    ‘Oh, sure, sure,’ said Agatha, but she would not meet Mrs Bloxby’s eyes, and she hurried away with her head down.
    Doris Simpson, her cleaner, was waiting for her when she got back. ‘How’s my Wyckhadden cat?’ asked Agatha. She had brought a cat back with her from one of her previous ‘cases’ but had found three cats just too much and the new cat adored Doris and so Doris had taken it over.
    ‘Happy as ever,’ said Doris. ‘Do you want me cleaning today?’
    ‘It looks fine,’ said Agatha. ‘Leave it for a couple of days. I haven’t unpacked most of my stuff yet.’
    The doorbell rang. ‘Want me to get it?’ asked Doris.
    ‘No, it’s all right. Off you go and I’ll see you tomorrow.’
    Agatha opened the door. Melissa Sheppard stood there. ‘Is James here?’ she asked brightly. ‘I’ve made him a spinach pie.’
    Agatha stepped out into the front garden and looked along at James’s cottage. A face glimmered at the window on the half-landing and then disappeared. ‘Did you ring his bell?’ asked Agatha.
    ‘Yes, but there’s no reply.’
    I’m sure that was James at that window, thought Agatha, with a sudden burst of hope.
    ‘Maybe he’s gone out for a drive,’ she said.
    ‘His car’s there,’ Melissa pointed out.
    ‘Oh, so it is. He usually walks down to the shop for the newspapers about this time.’
    ‘I’ll try there,’ said Melissa and hurried off.
    Agatha retreated inside. Her fingers itched to pick up the receiver and call James, but James should call her first. She could not bear a cold welcome.
    She went upstairs and began to sort through the clothes in her suitcases, putting the dirty laundry into a basket.
    The doorbell rang again. Agatha ran downstairs and opened the door. Her friend, Detective Sergeant Bill Wong, stood on the doorstep. ‘I wondered whether you would come back alive,’ he said.
    ‘Come in. Have coffee. Hear all about it,’ said Agatha. ‘In fact, it’s nearly lunch-time. I haven’t done any shopping yet. But I’m sure I’ve something in the freezer I can put in the microwave.’
    ‘I can’t stay very long,’ said Bill. ‘That Detective Chief Inspector Hand doesn’t like you at all.’
    ‘Why, we solved his case for him.’
    ‘He swears they had already arrived at the same conclusion, so there was no need to put yourself at risk.’
    ‘Well, he’s got to say that, hasn’t he? To cover up his incompetence.’
    ‘Could be. So tell me all about it.’
    Bill was amused by Agatha’s flat and