Agatha Raisin and the Murderous Marriage

with under the arches, all God’s lost children, and felt a surge of fury. Mrs Gore-Appleton had, in her own sweet way, been robbing the poor.
    ‘I can’t bear the idea that she should get away with it. At the moment, the villagers have dropped the idea that either James or myself did it, but I met the horrible Mrs Boggle in the village shop the other day, and she sneered at me darkly about “some folks can get away with murder”. If the case isn’t solved, then who knows? Everyone might start to think that way again.’
    ‘I’ll let you know anything I can,’ said Bill.
    ‘How are things?’ asked Agatha. ‘I mean with you.’
    ‘Maddie? Oh, that’s finished. My mother is quite pleased, and so is Dad. I thought they would be disappointed, because they both hope to see me married.’
    Agatha privately thought Mr and Mrs Wong would do anything in their power to drive off any female interested in their precious son, but did not say so, which went to show she had changed slightly for the better. The old Agatha had been totally blind and deaf to anyone else’s feelings.
    But she saw the pain at the back of Bill’s eyes and felt a surge of hatred for Maddie.
    ‘So what happens now with you two?’ asked Bill.
    There was an awkward silence and then Agatha said brightly, ‘We’ll soon be back to normal – me in my small cottage and James in his. We can wave to each other over the fence.’
    ‘Oh, well, I’m sure you’ll sort something out,’ said Bill. ‘I’m glad to see you’ve given up investigating murders, Agatha. Not that you weren’t a help in the past, but mostly because of your blundering about and making things happen.’
    Agatha looked at him, outraged. ‘You can go off people, you know.’
    ‘Sorry. Just my joke. But you’ve nearly got yourself killed in the past. Don’t do it again.’ His face beamed. ‘I’d hate to lose you.’
    Agatha smiled suddenly. ‘There are times when I wish you were much older, Bill.’
    He smiled back. ‘And there are times I wish I were, Agatha.’
    ‘Do you want coffee, Bill?’ asked James sharply.
    ‘What? Oh, no, I’ve got to be going.’
    Agatha followed him to the door. ‘Don’t stay away too long. When I’m back in my own place, come for dinner.’
    ‘That’s a date. And nothing microwaved either.’
    He kissed her on the cheek and went off whistling.
    ‘Oh, God,’ said Agatha, coming back into the living-room, where James was moodily kicking at the rug in front of the fireplace. ‘I’ve just remembered. We’re hosting the Ladies’ Society from Ancombe. I’d better get along to the village hall. I know what. I’ll see if Mrs Hardy wants to come.’
    ‘Do what you want,’ muttered James.
    Agatha stared at him. ‘What’s got into you?’
    ‘I haven’t been writing,’ he said. He went and sat down in front of the computer and switched it on.
    Agatha shrugged and went upstairs. Love sometimes came in waves, like flu, but she was temporarily free of the plague and hoped to make it permanent.
    She came back downstairs whistling the same tune she had heard Bill whistling when he left. James was glowering at the screen of the computer.
    ‘I’m off,’ said Agatha brightly.
    No reply.
    ‘It was nice of Bill to call.’ She gave a little laugh. ‘I sometimes wonder why he bothers with me.’
    ‘He comes,’ said James acidly, ‘to get a tan from the light that shines from the hole in your arse.’
    Agatha stared at James, her mouth dropping. James turned bright red.
    ‘You’re jealous,’ said Agatha slowly.
    ‘Don’t be ridiculous. The thought of you and a man as young as Bill Wong is disgusting.’
    ‘But definitely intriguing,’ said Agatha. ‘See you later.’
    She went out feeling an unaccustomed little surge of power.
    Mrs Hardy was at home, and after a certain show of reluctance said she would accompany Agatha to the village hall.
    ‘What’s in store?’ asked Mrs Hardy.
    ‘I don’t really know,’ said Agatha. ‘I’m usually very much part of the arrangements, but with all the frights and running around, I’ve had nothing to do with this one. But whatever it is, you’ll enjoy it.’
    Agatha’s heart sank when they entered the hall and she learned from Mrs Bloxby that the Carsely Ladies’ Society were giving a concert.
    ‘How can we do that?’ hissed Agatha. ‘I didn’t think we had anyone who could perform anything.’
    ‘I think you’ll be surprised,’ said Mrs Bloxby blandly and moved away