Agatha Raisin and the Terrible Tourist by M. C. Beaton Page A

out.
    "Why can't they get someone who speaks bloody English?" raged Agatha. "They don't care about tourism in this country."
    "Maybe that's why they don't rip them off, insult women and have the place full of lager louts," said James mildly. "Anyway, we ought to learn Turkish and stop whining about their lack of English."
    "I wasn't whining. I was putting forward a reasonable criticism. For God's sake, why do you have to pick on me over every little damn thing?"
    "This isn't getting us anywhere, and no, Agatha, you do not look beautiful when you're angry. I'll bet Trevor and Angus have gone to The Dome to join the Debenhams. We'll try there. We'll drop off at the villa first and pick up swim-suits and get a swim later."
    But Agatha refused to speak to him. When they got back to their villa, the door was standing open.
    "What the hell...?" muttered James. He strode in. The noise of running water was coming from the kitchen.
    They went into the kitchen. Jackie was scrubbing down the wall, which had been stained from the coffee-cup Agatha had thrown at it.
    "I tried to phone you," said Jackie. "I hadn't left you enough clean towels and brought some round. What happened here?"
    "The cup slipped out of my hand," said Agatha defensively.
    Jackie's amused eyes looked at the wall and then back at Agatha. Then she took a dustpan and brush and cleared away the shards of broken china from the floor. "No one can talk of anything else but this murder," said Jackie. "You must have got an awful shock, Mrs. Raisin."
    "Agatha."
    "Agatha, then. Don't you think you should be having a quiet he-down?"
    "Perhaps you should," said James. "You're a bit overwrought."
    " I AM NOT OVERWROUGHT !" shouted Agatha.
    Jackie wiped her hands on a towel, smiled at both of them and hurried off.
    "You really must pull yourself together," said James severely. "Or I'll need to leave you behind."
    But Agatha had no intention of being left behind. Whether she feared to be left out of the murder hunt or whether she feared that Olivia might charm James, she did not stop to think about. She went upstairs and washed her face but did not put on any make-up. There was no point. The heat and humidity would melt any make-up right off her face.
    At the Dome Hotel, they learned that Trevor and Angus had checked in and were out at the pool. James bought a couple of tickets for the pool. "Did you bring any sun-block?" he asked Agatha. "You'll burn."
    "I'll be all right."
    "I'll buy you some across the road if you wait a moment."
    "Don't fuss!" snapped Agatha.
    They walked in silence through the lounges and out in the sunlight again towards the pool. Agatha changed in a cubicle. When she emerged, James was waiting for her, hard and lean and fit-looking in a pair of brief trunks. "They're over at the bar, all of them."
    He pointed. At a table in full sunlight sat Trevor, Angus, Olivia, George and Harry.
    They went over to join them.
    "We're all a bit shell-shocked," said Olivia languidly. She was wearing a brief bikini. "Join me, James."
    James sat down next to her. "How are you bearing up, Trevor?" he asked.
    "PU manage," said Trevor curtly. There were puffy bags under his eyes and he was burnt a dreadful shade of pink. There were already sun blisters on his shoulders but he seemed unaware of the heat.
    "Poor, poor Rose," mourned Angus. "Who waud hae done such a thing to a bonnie lassie like that?"
    "We phoned Trevor and Angus and told them to move here," said Olivia to James.
    "Why?" asked Agatha, glaring, for Olivia had put a hand on James's thigh.
    "Because people like us are brought up to help our fellow-man," said Olivia coldly. "Something that someone like you might not be aware of, Agatha."
    Agatha felt that Olivia had pierced through the layers of Mayfair built up through the years to the Birmingham slum where Agatha had been brought up.
    "Oh, piss off," said Agatha. "I'm going for a swim."
    She was very conscious of her rear as she walked off. She hoped her bottom wasn't