Agatha Raisin and the Murderous Marriage

get involved in a mess like this!’
    It was then that Agatha snapped. She looked at her husband with pure hate in her bearlike eyes. ‘I’ll kill you, you bastard,’ she howled.
    She tried to get her hands around his neck, but Bill Wong pulled her away.
    James Lacey’s voice cut through the shocked exclamations of the guests and relatives. He said to the registrar, who was standing with his mouth hanging open, ‘Take us into another room.’ He put his hand under Agatha’s arm and urged her forward to follow the registrar. Bill Wong brought Jimmy Raisin along after them.
    When they were all seated in a dusty anteroom, James said wearily, ‘Naturally, the marriage cannot go ahead.’
    ‘Of course not,’ agreed Bill. ‘Not until Agatha here gets a divorce.’
    ‘Agatha can get a divorce if she likes,’ said James savagely. ‘But it won’t mean marriage to me. You lied to me, Agatha. You disgraced me and I will never forgive you. Never!’
    He turned to Bill. ‘Try to sort this mess out. I’m off. There’s nothing for me here.’
    ‘I was afraid of losing you,’ whispered Agatha, but the slamming of the door as James left was the only answer she got.
    ‘Seems like you’ve still got me,’ leered Jimmy.
    ‘You have no claim on her,’ said Bill Wong. ‘I suggest you get a lawyer and take out an injunction to prevent your husband from approaching you, Agatha.’
    ‘You’ve done well for yourself, Aggie,’ whined Jimmy. ‘How’s about a bit o’ cash to see me on my way?’
    Agatha wrenched open the clasps of her Gucci handbag, pulled out her wallet, extracted a handful of notes and thrust them at him. ‘Get out of my sight!’ she yelled.
    Jimmy grinned and shoved the money into a pocket. ‘Give us a kiss, then,’ he said.
    Bill hustled him to the door and pushed him outside and then returned to Agatha.
    ‘Really, officer,’ said the registrar, ‘I must insist you bring him back as a witness. It appears to me that Mrs Raisin here should be charged with attempting to commit bigamy.’
    ‘The misunderstanding arose like this,’ said Bill. ‘I was present a year ago when Mrs Raisin received a letter from an old friend in London telling her that Jimmy was dead. Is that not true, Agatha?’
    Despite her misery, Agatha was shrewd enough to see the lifeline being thrown to her and nodded dumbly.
    ‘So, as you can see,’ said Bill, ‘there was no intent to commit bigamy. Mrs Raisin has received a bad shock. I suggest we all go home.’
    ‘Well, since I know you to be a respected officer of the law in Mircester,’ said the registrar, ‘I will say no more about it.’
    Agatha returned to her own home. There was nothing in it but Bill’s china elephant and her suitcases of clothes. James had a key to her cottage. He must have carried all her stuff from his cottage and left it. She had asked Mrs Bloxby to tell them at the village hall to have a party instead of a wedding reception. She phoned the removal firm and told them to bring back her furniture and belongings. They said it could not be done that day, but she swore at them so savagely and offered to pay so much that they agreed to be around with the goods as quickly as possible.
    Agatha sat on the floor of the empty kitchen and hugged the china elephant and let the tears come at last, carving lines through her make-up. Dimly she was aware that the weather had broken and rain was dripping from the thatch. Her cats sat side by side and looked at her curiously.
    The doorbell rang. She did not want to answer it but then heard the vicar’s wife calling urgently, ‘Are you all right, Agatha? Agatha?’
    She took out a handkerchief and scrubbed her face and then went and opened the door.
    ‘Where’s James?’ asked Agatha.
    ‘He’s gone. His car’s gone and he left his house keys with Fred Griggs.’
    ‘Gone where?’
    ‘He said something to Fred about going abroad and said he didn’t know when he would be back.’
    ‘Oh, God,’ said Agatha, her voice breaking on a sob. ‘I could kill him.’
    ‘James?’
    ‘No, Jimmy Raisin. Drunken swine. The first good thing I did in my life was to walk out on him.’
    ‘I think if I were you I would feel more like killing Roy Silver,’ said Mrs Bloxby ruefully. ‘But just think, if it had all come out after you were married, it would have been even more of a disaster.’
    ‘I don’t know,’ said Agatha wretchedly. ‘Perhaps by that time James might have loved me enough to stand by