At last she decided enough was enough, collected Roy and said goodnight to James and Felicity.
At the cloakroom she collected her cloak and her bag with the flat shoes in it and slipped them on, groaning with relief.
Charles joined them. ‘I’m coming with you.’
‘If you’re coming home for the night, it’s the sofa for you,’ said Agatha.
Back in her cottage, Agatha said she was too tired to sit up discussing the party and took herself off upstairs.
As she changed out of her clothes into a nightdress and wiped off her make-up, she worried and worried that she had bored Sylvan. Had she talked too much? He had asked her about her work and she remembered she had gone on about it for a long time. But at least she would see him again. The tentacles of obsession were coiling once more around Agatha’s brain.
At one point in the night, she woke up with an odd feeling of dread. She thought of Felicity and James and was overcome by a wave of fear. Something was wrong. Something was badly wrong. Then she shrugged the feeling away.
It was those shrimp canapés and champagne, thought Agatha, and then fell asleep again, dreaming of Sylvan.
Agatha Raisin and a Spoonful of Poison Page 20
