Agatha Raisin and the Love from Hell Read Online Free Page B

eyes and her normally glossy hair was dull. She was wearing a shapeless print house-dress and flat sandals.
    ‘I have been working hard. Coffee?’
    ‘Yes, please.’
    ‘It’s the real stuff,’ said Agatha, plugging in the electric percolator. ‘No unleaded in this house.’
    ‘Fine,’ said James, stretching out his long legs.
    Agatha sat down opposite him. As if by silent consent, both of them waited until the coffee was ready. Agatha filled two mugs and then looked at James.
    ‘You still seeing that tramp, Melissa?’
    ‘I felt I needed company while you were running around with Charles Fraith.’
    ‘Charles is just a friend.’
    ‘That makes a change,’ said James sourly. ‘You had an affair with him in Cyprus.’
    ‘That was before we were married. And you had a fling with Melissa.’
    ‘We are just friends,’ said James stiffly. ‘You shouldn’t be working. You don’t need to work. You look awful.’
    ‘Well, Mr Health and Beauty, you’ve been nagging me for ages about wearing make-up and heels. You ought to be happy. Why did you come here? To nag me again?’
    ‘I thought we should give the marriage another go,’ said James.
    ‘Why?’
    ‘Because I’m not a quitter and neither are you.’
    ‘Couldn’t you say it was because you loved me?’
    ‘Oh, Agatha, you know what I’m like. I never was any good at that lovey-dovey stuff.’
    ‘All right. I’ll try again. But you have to stop seeing Melissa.’
    ‘She’s a friend.’
    ‘I’ll stop seeing Charles or any other man, if you stop seeing Melissa.’
    ‘Very well.’
    Agatha suddenly smiled at him. ‘What a pair of chumps we are,’ she said happily. ‘Wait there until I put some make-up on. It’s all right for you, James. The thing I love about you is that you always seem so fit and healthy.’ She went out of the kitchen. I should have told her, thought James. But we’ll have dinner this evening. I’ll tell her then.
    Happiness is a great rejuvenator. Agatha returned to work that afternoon looking fresh and businesslike. The rambling song was a jaunty whistle-along tune. Delly Shoes proclaimed themselves delighted with Agatha. She was to arrange a concert in Mircester to launch the new boot and the new song. She bought herself a dark blue dress ornamented with glass beads and pearls. It had a square neckline and a very short hemline. She then bought sheer stockings and a garter belt, the latter being an item of clothing which Agatha despised, but she planned a hot night and was prepared to sacrifice her comfort.
    She carried her purchases home and proceeded to prepare herself for the evening ahead. James was to drive them into Oxford for dinner at a French restaurant on Blue Boar Street.
    She bathed and made up her face with care and then brushed her hair until it gained some of its lost shine. Then she put on the dress and stood in front of the mirror.
    And scowled.
    The sequins and beads had glittered in the electric light of the shop and had looked beguiling. In the late sunlight streaming through the bedroom window, it looked vulgar, tasteless, and middle-aged. And that same cruel sunlight fell on her face, showing Agatha Raisin that she had an incipient moustache. She tore off the dress and left it in a crumpled heap on the floor. In the bathroom, she applied depilatory to the area between her nose and her upper lip and then went to her closet to rake through her clothes to find something suitable. Five try-ons later, she realized she had forgotten all about the depilatory and was only reminded by a burning sensation on her face. She went back to the bathroom and washed it off. Above her upper lip there was now a scarlet line. ‘I hate being old,’ howled Agatha at the mirror.
    She returned to the bedroom and gloomily selected a white satin blouse and a short black velvet skirt. Now to do something about her face. She had planned to wear only a little light make-up, but heavy foundation cream would be needed to cover that