Agatha Raisin and the Perfect Paragon - M. C. Beaton [43]
Agatha, dressed in a very short skirt and a black jersey top and high heels, began to feel excited as she waited for Freddy to arrive. Just as he was ringing the doorbell, her telephone rang. She decided to ignore it.
Freddy planted a warm kiss on her cheek. “You look great,” he said.
He took her to the same restaurant as before and asked her all about the case. Agatha launched into a description of all she had found out, quite forgetting she had meant to ask him all about Zimbabwe.
When she had finished, he gazed into her eyes and said, “You really are amazing, you know.”
Agatha dropped her eyes, the lashes heavy with black mascara, in mock modesty and murmured, “Oh, I wouldn’t say that.”
“But you are! All this murder and mayhem. You must be very courageous.”
Agatha remembered that she should be asking him about Zimbabwe, and asked, “Did you have an awful time in Africa?”
“It was pretty grim. A gang charged the farmhouse. They’d already killed most of my workers. We got out the back way just in the nick of time with only what we were wearing.”
“We?” asked Agatha.
“I mean, me and my houseboy. It’s a terrible situation. Because Mugabe has driven off all the farmers, the harvests are rotting in the fields and the country is starving. Oh, that reminds me. I’m leaving tomorrow for a short break.”
Agatha’s face fell. “For how long?”
“Just a couple of weeks.”
“Let’s hope I have these cases cleared up before you get back. Where are you going? Not back to Zimbabwe, I hope.”
“No, I’m going to see, er, friends in South Africa. But I’ll see you as soon as I get back. Anyway, let’s make the most of our evening together.” His eyes looked long and steadily into hers and Agatha got the unsaid message—the night as well.
That was when a little twinge of panic assailed Agatha. She had shaved her legs the day before, but she really should have gone for a wax. The evening was humid and she nervously imagined she could feel hair sprouting through the sheerness of her black stockings. It was a while since she had found the courage to look at her naked body in a full-length mirror. Then, what if he didn’t have a condom? She didn’t have any.
But she fought down her worries. Here was the most attractive man she had come across in ages. Maybe they would get married. But if they got married and he went out to Nigeria to farm, she would need to go with him.
So she drank more than she should to drown the worries and was feeling muzzy and relaxed when she got in the car for the drive to her home.
If I’m not meant to do this, she told herself, something will happen.
“Coming in for a nightcap?” asked Agatha.
“Of course.”
He went round and opened the car door for her and helped her out. Agatha opened the door and reset the burglar alarm.
“I’ll just let my cats in from the garden,” said Agatha, suddenly nervous again. “Help yourself to a drink and make me a gin and tonic.”
Agatha let her cats in and patted them.
He appeared behind her, making her jump. “Do we really need a drink?” he asked.
Agatha turned to face him. He cradled her face in his hands and bent his head to kiss her.
And at that very moment, sharp and shrill, the doorbell rang.
“Don’t answer it,” he murmured.
The doorbell rang again. “Police! Open up!” cried a voice.
Freddy drew back, looking alarmed.
Agatha rushed to the door and opened it. Detective Inspector Wilkes stood there, flanked by Bill Wong and a policewoman.
“Come in,” said Agatha. “What’s up? Is this going to take long?”
“All night if necessary.”
Freddy, who had followed Agatha to the door, said quickly, “I’d better take myself off.”
“Who are you?” demanded Wilkes.
“A friend of Agatha’s. We’ve just had dinner. I’ll be on my way.”
“No, you don’t. You’ll stay until we get your address and what you