Agatha Raisin and the Terrible Tourist

cheerfully, ‘and see where they’re going. Unless you want to confront them.’
    ‘No,’ said Agatha hurriedly. ‘This might be part of his investigations.’
    ‘And very nice, too,’ murmured Charles. ‘What investigations?’
    ‘He wants to find out if his old fixer who runs a brothel is dealing drugs.’
    James and his companion turned in at a block of flats in the side street. Charles and Agatha walked along and stood on the other side of the block of flats.
    ‘Now what do we do?’ asked Charles.
    They gazed up at the block of flats. And then a light came on in one of the windows on the second floor, and like watching people on a stage set, they saw James and the girl.
    The girl said something and laughed, and took off her short jacket.
    James went up to her, put his arms around her and kissed her, a long, deep embrace. She drew back and began to unbutton her blouse.
    James crossed to the window and jerked down the blinds.
    Agatha found she was trembling.
    ‘Well, well, well,’ said Charles. ‘Who would have thought it. Don’t break your heart, Aggie. That was a prostitute if ever I saw one.’
    ‘You don’t kiss prostitutes like that,’ said Agatha bleakly.
    ‘We can’t stand here all night. Do you want to go up and bang on the door and throw a scene?’
    ‘No,’ said Agatha, ‘I just want to go home.’
    They walked back to the car. When they drove off, Agatha said, ‘That’s that. I don’t feel anything for him any more. How could he?’
    ‘Getting even? Maybe the poor man is still wondering how you could sleep with me.’
    ‘That was different.’
    ‘I suppose it was. You didn’t have to pay me.’
    ‘Are you sure that was a prostitute, Charles?’
    ‘Pretty sure.’
    ‘But she was pretty.’
    ‘A lot of them here are. They come from God-awful places like Romania.’
    There had been girls in the Great Eastern Hotel, but the bar had been very dark and Agatha had not studied any of them very closely.
    Perhaps the girl was one of the prostitutes from the Great Eastern Hotel and this was James’s way of finding out information about Mustafa. But he could simply have offered her money. There was no need to kiss her like that. Agatha felt beyond tears.
    They drove the rest of the way to Kyrenia in silence.
    When they reached Agatha’s car, Charles said, ‘Want to come to the hotel for a nightcap?’
    Agatha shook her head.
    ‘Goodnight kiss?’
    ‘No, I don’t feel like it.’
    ‘Try not to weep all night into your pillow. You’re worth better than James, Aggie.’
    Agatha got out of the car and waved to Charles as he drove away.
    Then she drove back to the villa and let herself in. Grief was being replaced by rage. She paced up and down the living-room, wondering what she should say to him when he returned, wondering whether to say anything at all. He had not laid a finger on her and yet he had kissed that girl so passionately.
    She felt lonely, old and unwanted.
    Then, with a hardening of the heart, she went upstairs and put her nightgown – froths of satin and lace bought especially to charm James – into a small travelling-bag along with make-up, a change of clothes and a toothbrush. Then she went out, locked up and got into her car and drove back to Kyrenia.
    In the hotel reception a late busload of Israeli tourists had just arrived and were milling around the reception area and so Agatha was able to get into the lift unobserved.
    Charles opened his bedroom door in answer to her knock.
    ‘Come in,’ he said. ‘We’ll have a drink and then you’ll take the spare bed, Aggie. I don’t want to be made love to by a woman with a mind full of revenge.’
    ‘You are very kind, Charles,’ said Agatha with a break in her voice.
    ‘Not me. You’re a laugh a minute, Aggie. We’ll have a bottle of wine on the balcony.’
    ‘I don’t know what my liver’s going to be like after all this booze,’ said Agatha.
    ‘You’ll soon be back in Carsely and you can drink herb tea until it comes out your ears.’
    They sat together on the balcony. ‘I don’t know how to handle this,’ said Agatha. ‘I don’t know what to do.’
    ‘Then do nothing. That’s what I would do, Aggie. When in doubt, do nothing. If you tell him you saw him, he might, as you guessed, tell you it was part of his investigations, and then you’ll start shouting about the way he kissed that girl, and he’ll say he had to make it look good and don’t be silly, and you’ll have got exactly