As the Pig Turns - By M.C. Beaton Page 0,71

glass.

‘Are you married?’ asked Agatha.

‘I was once. Don’t want to talk about it.’

‘Children?’

‘No. Let’s talk about the garden. It won’t take me long to get it in shape for the autumn.’ He drained his glass. Agatha paid him. ‘Isn’t this too much?’ he asked.

‘No, your work is good, so you get the going rate.’

‘If I keep the shed keys, then I can get into the garden by the path at the side of the house and I won’t need to disturb you.’

‘That’s fine. I’ve got a spare set. I’ll be out at work,’ said Agatha, ‘but I might drop home during the day to see how you are getting on.’

‘Fine,’ said George. Then he rose easily from his seat, waved to her and moved swiftly away. Agatha winced as she heard the front door shut behind him.

But she was not to be left alone for long. As she went to answer the summons of the doorbell, she thought with relief that it was simply marvellous to be able to answer her own front door without a feeling of terror.

Simon stood there, looking plaintively at her.

‘Oh, it’s you,’ said Agatha. ‘What do you want?’

‘I wondered if you could ever see your way to giving me another chance?’

‘Oh, come in.’

‘Your garden looks better,’ said Simon. ‘Have you been working on it?’

‘Yes,’ said Agatha, all at once wanting to keep the glory of finding George to herself. ‘Take a seat, Simon, and tell me why I should ever trust you again. What made you volunteer to spy for Mixden?’

‘I was pretty sure that after the wedding, you wouldn’t consider having me back. I know I’m good at detecting.’

‘I can’t have you back,’ said Agatha. ‘Toni would never forgive me, for a start. It was she you used to winkle out information.’

‘She says she will.’

‘When? How?’

‘I had a talk with her and we went to the movies.’

‘Look, I could certainly do with someone with your intuition. But it’s not only Toni I have to consider. It’s Phil, Patrick and Mrs Freedman. I’ll discuss it with them tomorrow. If I do take you back, you will need to work at all the lowest jobs for two months until I feel I can trust you. You will also need to sign a confidentiality document, and if you sneak to Mixden, I’ll sue your socks off.’

On Monday morning, Agatha told her staff about Simon. Phil was all for giving him another chance, Toni said she did not mind, but Mrs Freedman and Patrick said he had proved himself untrustworthy. But when Agatha started to look at all the cases she had neglected, and they all realized there was a lot of hard work ahead, Patrick reluctantly said it would be useful to have someone to do the lost cats and dogs kind of work.

Mrs Freedman said that in that case she would go along with it.

A two-month trial was decided on, and Agatha phoned Simon.

Three more cases came in that morning, and Agatha, who had hoped to rush off early and maybe see George, found she had to work long hours.

Mrs Ada Benson called on Mrs Bloxby. The vicar’s wife looked at her wearily. ‘What now?’ she asked.

‘Dear me,’ said Mrs Benson. ‘One would think I was always complaining. It’s just a little matter.’

Mrs Bloxby reluctantly stood aside, and Mrs Benson walked into the sitting room.

‘It’s like this,’ she began. ‘There is a newcomer in this village. A Mr George Marston.’

‘Yes, I know,’ said Mrs Bloxby. ‘What about him?’

‘He appears to be working full-time for Mrs Raisin.’

‘So? I know he needs work.’

‘But he should be warned.’

‘What on earth are you talking about?’

‘Agatha Raisin is a man-eater!’

Mrs Bloxby sighed. ‘Would you please leave, Mrs Benson, and in future, would you telephone first? I am very busy. Please shut the door on your way out.’

‘Well, I never!’

‘Then it’s time you did. Goodbye!’

Agatha longed for the weekend. The weather was still golden. Cotswold cottages lazed under a warm sun. Often, when they were busy, she and her staff would work on Saturdays as well, but she told them firmly that the following weekend was to be free – with the exception of Simon, who was asked to continue trying to find a missing teenager.

She was up early on Saturday, trying on one outfit after another, settling at last for a white cotton blouson, blue cotton skirt and high-heeled sandals.

He was already in the garden when she descended.

‘Coffee?’ she called out.

‘Fine.’

When she had two mugs of coffee ready, he joined her