Agatha Raisin and the Witch of Wyckhadden

Just what I need, thought Agatha bitterly. A night out with a bunch of wrinklies. That was the awful thing about socializing with the old. You could no longer keep up the pretence that you were young and dashing anymore. Let me see, though Agatha gloomily. I'm in my fifties; Daisy, about mid-sixties; Mary and Jennifer the same; the colonel, oh, about seventy-odd; and Mr. Berry, definitely in the seventies. And the way time rushes by these days, it won't be long before I'm one of them and the tragedy is that I'll still feel about twenty-five.

But after dinner, as they all set out together into a calm frosty night, Agatha felt her spirits rising. They were all like excited teenagers. But their spirits were dampened as they walked along the pier past the closed shops and amusement arcades to come up against a poster advertising that it was disco night. Young people were already walking along the pier in the direction of the dance hall.

"Dear me," said Daisy in a little voice. "I suppose we may as well all have a drink and just watch. But I did so want to dance."

They left their coats and, crowding together, they walked into the ballroom and gathered round a table at the dance floor. The colonel took their orders for drinks and went off to the bar.

"They look like a lot of savages," growled Jennifer. She really should shave that moustache, thought Agatha impatiently. No reason to let herself go like that. She did not feel exactly glamorous herself with her hair tucked up under a red scarf to match her blouse. She had arranged it in the Turkish-turban style but she still felt like an old frump. The colonel returned bearing a tray with their drinks. "This isn't a good idea," whimpered Mary. "I can hardly hear myself think."

A group of youths were sniggering and staring at them from the other side of the floor. Then one, a tall youth in a leather jacket and jeans, detached himself from the group. He walked over to their table and then, turning, winked at his friends, and said to Agatha, "Want to dance, sweetheart?"

Dammit, I will not be old before my time, thought Agatha rebelliously.

"Sure," she said, getting up on the floor.

Agatha was a good disco dancer. Her long black skirt had a long slit up the side which opened as she danced, showing the world that Agatha Raisin had a smashing pair of legs. She gave herself up to the jungle beat of the music, forgetting that this young punk had only asked her for a joke, although he was a superb dancer. She was dimly aware that people were cheering, that people were clearing a space around them.

When the dance finished, Agatha returned to the table, flushed and happy.

"I don't know how you do it," marvelled the colonel.

"Come on and I'll show you," teased Agatha, not for a minute expecting him to take her up on her offer.

"I would be honoured," said the colonel formally.

As the colonel started to throw himself about, hands waving, legs kicking with abandon, Agatha was reminded of James. James danced like that. At one point, she looked over the colonel's shoulder and saw with glad amazement that Daisy and Harry Berry had joined the dancers, as had Mary and Jennifer.

After that, various young people asked them to dance. They were no longer oddities. They were regarded as fun, and Agatha thought it was amazing that young people with noserings and spiky hair and terrifying clothes, when you got to know them, mostly always turned out to be nice and ordinary.

They stuck it out gamely to the last dance. "Well, I'm blessed," said the colonel as they walked along the pier. "I can't remember when I've enjoyed myself so much in ages."

Highly elated, old Harry was performing dance steps along the pier. Daisy caught Agatha's arm. "Could I have a quiet word with you when we get back?"

"Sure," said Agatha, stifling a yawn. "But not too long. I'm beat. Come up to my room."

In Agatha's room, Daisy looked at her pleadingly. "I was jealous of you tonight, Agatha."

"Oh, why?" Agatha unwound her turban and peered at her scalp. By all that was holy, her hair was growing.

"Well, the colonel paid you a lot of attention."

"You're keen on the colonel?"

"Yes, very."

"But what can I do?" asked Agatha. "He's not keen on me, I can tell you that. He just wanted a bit of fun."

"My clothes are very old-fashioned. I realized that tonight. And my hair. I wondered if you could go shopping with me tomorrow and sort of make me over."

"Gladly," said Agatha. "We'll set out after breakfast. It'll be fun."

And so it will, she thought in surprise. Agatha had run her own successful public relations firm but had taken early retirement. But taking someone in hand and improving their image had been part of her job. Life had suddenly taken on colour and meaning again. And what was more, she hadn't had a cigarette. She took a packet of cigarettes out of her handbag, opened it, broke up all the cigarettes and threw them in the trash bin.