Agatha Raisin and The Potted Gardener Read Online Free PDF

warmth like a frost-bitten plant towards the sun, responded gradually with equal warmth. Agatha found herself inviting Mary round for coffee the following morning.
    The meeting started with a discussion on catering. Soon after the annual horticultural show, the gardens of Carsely were open to the public to raise money for charity. The Ladies’ Society had been approached by the horticultural society, who wanted them to serve teas in the school hall. Agatha, who usually liked to be at the centre of things, kept her mouth shut. She decided at that moment that all her energies must be conserved for her garden. People would flock to see it and it would glow with colour and outshine James Lacey’s next door. In fact, it would outshine every other garden in the village. She could almost see James’s face glowing with admiration.
    The next morning, Agatha remembered her invitation to Mary. She decided not to bother dressing up. She put on a comfortable but baggy skirt with a loose blouse over it.
    But the minute Mary arrived, Agatha wished she had put in some work on her appearance. Mary was wearing a green wool dress which clung to her figure, a figure which had bumps only in the right places. Over it she wore a loose coat of greenish tweed, and despite the coldness of the day outside, Mary was wearing very high-heeled green leather sandals and sheer stockings.
    Mary slung off her coat, which she had been wearing loose around her shoulders, and dropped it on a chair. “What a charming place you have, Mrs Raisin,” she said, looking around. “I am glad of this opportunity to get to know each other better. Carsely is very pleasant, but people here do not travel much. In fact, for most of them a trip to the market in Moreton is a great adventure.”
    “I believe you spent some time in America,” said Agatha, for the first time not wanting to be classed as different from the other village women.
    “Yes, New York.”
    Agatha had a vague idea that California was the home of the face-lift but decided that they probably had plenty of cosmetic surgeons in New York. There was a plastic look about Mary’s face. Still, it could be her, Agatha’s, jealousy prompting her to believe it was the result of a face-lift.
    “I’ll just get the coffee,” said Agatha and then her doorbell rang.
    She went and opened it and found James Lacey standing on the step. Her first thought was that he had seen Mary going into her house and that was the reason for the call. “Come in,” she said bleakly, “Mary’s here,” and turned away immediately and so missed the slightly hunted look in his eyes. In the kitchen, Agatha piled coffee-cups and warmed-up Danish pastries, plates and napkins on to a tray and decided to give up on James Lacey entirely. But she still had a nagging longing to escape upstairs and put on something more glamorous.
    James looked up as Agatha came into the room and courteously rose to his feet and took the tray from her and set it on the table. For some reason there was an awkward silence. Agatha wondered what they had been talking about in the brief time she had been out of the room. The fire crackled, the china clinked as she arranged spoons on saucers, and from outside a starling gave out the long descending, sorrowful note of winter.
    “I can’t stay very long,” said James. “Just dropped by to see how you were.”
    “My morning for callers,” said Agatha as the doorbell went again.
    When she opened it, she saw with surprise and delight that her visitor was Detective Sergeant Bill Wong. “Heard through the grapevine you were back,” he said cheerfully. “May I come in?”
    “Of course,” said Agatha, longing to give the young man a hug but feeling uncharacteristically shy. “I’ve got James here and a newcomer, Mary Fortune.”
    Mary looked up as Bill Wong came in. She saw a small, chubby man with an oriental cast of features and very shrewd eyes.
    Agatha went to get another cup and Bill followed her into