Read Online Agatha Raisin and the Wizard of Evesham by M.C. Beaton - Free Book Online
Authors: M.C. Beaton
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I get restless after I’ve been in the same place for a bit.’
Agatha glanced around her at the heavy furniture, and the dark wallpaper decorated with uninspiring scenes of the Cotswolds, those sort of scenes, peculiarly lifeless, painted by local artists
as if they had meticulously copied photographs.
‘Did you take this place furnished?’
‘Yes, I rent it. Not my taste. So how’s your muddled love life, Agatha?’
She manufactured a world-weary shrug. ‘That scene Charles threw was the last straw. I’m weary of James.’ She looked down at the floor and wished she could blush to order.
‘I kept thinking about you, instead.’
‘I’ve been thinking about you as well,’ he said. ‘We could make a great team.’
She looked at him in surprise.
He put his glass down and leaned forward. ‘You wondered why I didn’t move to London. Well, I’ve been thinking about it. One of my customers told me about how successful you
were at organizing things and about your public relations job. Oh, I know you told me, but it was only later I thought of it. I’ve enough money put by to take a lease on a place in the centre
of town, Knightsbridge, Sloane Street, somewhere near Harrods. With my hairdressing skills and your public relations skills, I could be another Vidal Sassoon.’
If only I could believe he was not a blackmailer, thought Agatha quickly. But string him along anyway.
‘Do you know, that could be very exciting. I miss London. And it would get me out of the mess I’ve made for myself down here. When do we start?’
‘It’ll take some time to wind things up in Evesham. We could think about starting next year.’
He can’t have thought that tape recorder meant anything, Agatha decided. She stood up. ‘I really must be going. I’m sorry about your accident. When are you back at
work?’
‘Couple of days.’
‘I’ll make an appointment when I know you’re going to be there.’
He surveyed her. ‘Garry did that to you, didn’t he?’ She nodded. ‘You see, that’s the trouble. It’s so hard to get assistants with any flair. Good
hairdressers are born, not made.’
He walked with her to the door. ‘When you come in for that appointment, we’ll fix up a date for dinner.’ He put an arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze.
‘We’re going to be a great partnership. I’m good at raising money, so funds won’t be any problem.’
‘I’ve got some money of my own. I could help you.’
He swept her into his arms and kissed her passionately. ‘What did I ever do before I met you,’ he said huskily.
Well, well, well, thought Agatha shakily as she made her way to her car. Perhaps I really was mistaken in him. He is rather a dish.
She decided to drive into Evesham and buy some groceries in case Charles wanted to come to dinner. She was tired of eating out.
The villa was on the corner of a side road. She drove round into the side road to make a three-point turn and so drive back into town. It was then she noticed Mr John’s car at the side of
the house, gleaming, unmarked.
Surely he could not have got it repaired so quickly. Did some jealous husband beat him up? Someone he had been blackmailing?
But that kiss still burned on Agatha’s lips and she found she was becoming inclined to think that there was nothing wrong with him, except perhaps that he was a bit of a philanderer.
As she drove back into town and to Tesco’s supermarket, she began to feel the first surge of excitement about his idea of starting a salon in London. She was a shrewd enough businesswoman
to make certain it prospered. He certainly was talented, more talented than London hairdressers Agatha had gone to. She had only said that bit about putting her money into his business to get him
on the hook and allay his suspicions that she was on to him.
But what if he was genuine? She could get out of Carsely and back into an exciting, busy life. James would return and find her gone. With work to do, she
Agatha glanced around her at the heavy furniture, and the dark wallpaper decorated with uninspiring scenes of the Cotswolds, those sort of scenes, peculiarly lifeless, painted by local artists
as if they had meticulously copied photographs.
‘Did you take this place furnished?’
‘Yes, I rent it. Not my taste. So how’s your muddled love life, Agatha?’
She manufactured a world-weary shrug. ‘That scene Charles threw was the last straw. I’m weary of James.’ She looked down at the floor and wished she could blush to order.
‘I kept thinking about you, instead.’
‘I’ve been thinking about you as well,’ he said. ‘We could make a great team.’
She looked at him in surprise.
He put his glass down and leaned forward. ‘You wondered why I didn’t move to London. Well, I’ve been thinking about it. One of my customers told me about how successful you
were at organizing things and about your public relations job. Oh, I know you told me, but it was only later I thought of it. I’ve enough money put by to take a lease on a place in the centre
of town, Knightsbridge, Sloane Street, somewhere near Harrods. With my hairdressing skills and your public relations skills, I could be another Vidal Sassoon.’
If only I could believe he was not a blackmailer, thought Agatha quickly. But string him along anyway.
‘Do you know, that could be very exciting. I miss London. And it would get me out of the mess I’ve made for myself down here. When do we start?’
‘It’ll take some time to wind things up in Evesham. We could think about starting next year.’
He can’t have thought that tape recorder meant anything, Agatha decided. She stood up. ‘I really must be going. I’m sorry about your accident. When are you back at
work?’
‘Couple of days.’
‘I’ll make an appointment when I know you’re going to be there.’
He surveyed her. ‘Garry did that to you, didn’t he?’ She nodded. ‘You see, that’s the trouble. It’s so hard to get assistants with any flair. Good
hairdressers are born, not made.’
He walked with her to the door. ‘When you come in for that appointment, we’ll fix up a date for dinner.’ He put an arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze.
‘We’re going to be a great partnership. I’m good at raising money, so funds won’t be any problem.’
‘I’ve got some money of my own. I could help you.’
He swept her into his arms and kissed her passionately. ‘What did I ever do before I met you,’ he said huskily.
Well, well, well, thought Agatha shakily as she made her way to her car. Perhaps I really was mistaken in him. He is rather a dish.
She decided to drive into Evesham and buy some groceries in case Charles wanted to come to dinner. She was tired of eating out.
The villa was on the corner of a side road. She drove round into the side road to make a three-point turn and so drive back into town. It was then she noticed Mr John’s car at the side of
the house, gleaming, unmarked.
Surely he could not have got it repaired so quickly. Did some jealous husband beat him up? Someone he had been blackmailing?
But that kiss still burned on Agatha’s lips and she found she was becoming inclined to think that there was nothing wrong with him, except perhaps that he was a bit of a philanderer.
As she drove back into town and to Tesco’s supermarket, she began to feel the first surge of excitement about his idea of starting a salon in London. She was a shrewd enough businesswoman
to make certain it prospered. He certainly was talented, more talented than London hairdressers Agatha had gone to. She had only said that bit about putting her money into his business to get him
on the hook and allay his suspicions that she was on to him.
But what if he was genuine? She could get out of Carsely and back into an exciting, busy life. James would return and find her gone. With work to do, she
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