Agatha Raisin and Kissing Christmas Goodbye Read Free Page B

me.’
    ‘Well, thanks, Aggie. How can I repay you?’
    ‘Just don’t stay too long.’
    Agatha came down to the kitchen the next morning to find a plate of fresh croissants on the table, and Roy sitting reading the newspapers.
    ‘Where did you get the croissants?’ she asked.
    ‘The village shop. Some woman in the village has started making them. I’ve made coffee.’
    Agatha opened the back door and let her cats out to play. She poured herself a cup of coffee, sat down at the table and lit a cigarette.
    ‘Must you?’ asked Roy, flapping his hands.
    ‘Yes, so shut up.’ Agatha saw she had left Mrs Tamworthy’s letter lying on the table. She handed it to Roy. ‘Read that and tell me what you think about it.’
    Roy read it carefully. ‘She sounds mad.’
    ‘She might not be. I might read about her death in the newspapers and feel guilty.’
    ‘It’s a nice day,’ said Roy. The morning mist was lifting. Agatha’s cats, Hodge and Boswell, were chasing each other over the lawn. ‘We could both go over and talk
to her.’
    ‘Wouldn’t do any harm,’ said Agatha. ‘That way we’ll find out whether she’s bonkers or not.’
     
Chapter Two
    They eventually found Lower Tapor after having become lost several times. Signposts seemed to ignore the very existence of the place. Neither Roy nor Agatha were much good at
reading maps, and so it was by accident that they at last found themselves confronted by a sign announcing Lower Tapor.
    They drove slowly between two rows of small red-brick cottages and then found themselves out of the village at the other end.
    ‘Snakes and bastards!’ muttered Agatha, executing a clumsy eight-point turn. Back again. ‘Look for someone,’ she hissed.
    But the street appeared deserted. ‘Look!’ said Roy. ‘There’s that little road on the left. It must lead somewhere.’
    Agatha whipped the wheel round and plunged down the side road. They came to a triangle of village green with houses set around it and one pub called The Crazy Fox.
    Agatha stopped the car outside the pub. They both got out and stood for a moment looking up at the inn sign, which displayed a painting of a fox dressed as a huntsman, gun in hand, standing
upright with one rear paw resting on the dead body of a man.
    The pub itself was a low building built of mellow Cotswold stone. The village was very quiet. The day was perfect and the sun warm.
    Agatha pushed open the door and, followed by Roy, went inside. She stood and blinked in surprise. The pub was full of people. A man with a clipboard stood in front of the bar. He had been
addressing the crowd but fell silent and stared at Agatha.
    ‘What do you want?’ he asked.
    ‘I want directions to the manor house,’ retorted Agatha.
    There was a sudden uneasy rustling of papers and whispered voices.
    ‘Why?’ demanded the man with the clipboard. He was a big, burly farming type and his small eyes were suddenly full of menace.
    ‘Because that’s where I’m trying to get to,’ howled Agatha.
    ‘Go out. Turn right, and down Badger Lane. Takes you there.’
    ‘Any chance of a drink?’ asked Roy.
    ‘No,’ said the man. ‘This is a private meeting. Get out.’
    ‘Well, I never!’ said Roy outside.
    ‘Oh, forget about the local yokels,’ said Agatha. ‘Let’s find this house.’
    They got back into the car and found Badger Lane leading off from a corner of the green. Agatha drove slowly. The lane ran between high stone walls and was so narrow she was afraid of scraping
her car.
    ‘There it is,’ she said, spotting a double gate on which hung a small sign, the manor house.
    ‘You’d better get out and open the gates,’ said Agatha.
    ‘Why me?’ complained Roy.
    ‘Because I’m driving.’
    Grumbling, Roy got out. He was soon back. ‘The gates are padlocked. We should have phoned first. Phone now.’
    ‘No, I want to surprise her,’ said Agatha. ‘I want to find out if she’s really bonkers. We’ll leave the car here and climb