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

As she turned her head in the car to speak to James, she felt her damp cheek brushing against her collar and knew immediately it was probably smeared with Vichy Camel foundation cream. She was wearing tights. Her legs had still not recovered from their burning by the pool and the humidity was making the hairs on her legs sprout dreadfully. She passed a tentative hand across her upper lip but she had waxed it before leaving and it still felt smooth. Oh, all the things that careless youth takes for granted, like a slim figure, smooth skin and a hair-free face! In that moment, she desperately wished to be back in her late thirties--that was not asking too much--when one could indulge in, say, a large piece of cheesecake without feeling two minutes after it had been consumed that one's knicker elastic was cutting off one's circulation.
    The proprietors, Emine and Altay, gave them a welcome and ushered them to a table next to a fountain in the centre of the garden restaurant, where Olivia and party were already seated. Between sunburn and booze, Trevor's face looked as if it had been boiled. The food as usual was delicious, but Trevor complained loudly and drunkenly that he was tired of "this foreign muck" and would give anything for a good steak and kidney pie.
    "This place used to be called Templos," said Olivia loudly to break the awkward silence which followed Trevor's outburst. "The Knights Templars were stationed here and it was a sort of market garden for Saint Hilarion Castle. Some even say there is a tunnel here somewhere that leads right up to the castle."
    "I think that's an engineering feat that would surely be beyond the Crusaders," said Agatha.
    "They built the castle up on top of the mountain," said Olivia, "so a tunnel wouldn't have been beyond them."
    Agatha decided to change the subject. She did not like being contradicted. "I cannot understand why north Cyprus is not a recognized country," she said.
    "It's all quite simple," said James. "They let the world forget about the massacres they endured, about the women and children in one village buried alive with their hands tied behind their backs. The Greek Cypriots have a very powerful propaganda machine and this side has little or nothing. If I were an emerging country, I would not waste money on guns or bullets, but I would hire a Madison Avenue public-relations company. I've talked to some members of the government here. 'Why don't you keep reminding the world of what you have suffered?' I asked. They say they only counter-attack."
    "They have the UN here," said Angus.
    "And what is the UN?" demanded James. "I'll tell you what their function is. To cost various countries a great deal of money so that their soldiers can stand around surveying ethnic cleansing. And what the hell am I talking about ethnic cleansing for? Genocide is the word. Hasn't the suffering of the Jews taught this damn world anything? Look at Bosnia!"
    "What delicious lamb on the bone," said Olivia brightly. "Do try some, Trevor. Just like Mother used to make."
    "My mother only made with the can opener," said Trevor.
    What an ill-assorted lot we are, thought Agatha. Even me and James. He talks with such passion about politics but I can't get him to say one word about us. Passion, thought Agatha. Was that what was behind this murder? But George Debenham, thin and sallow like his wife, seemed always cool and detached. Then there was friend Harry Tembleton, whose expression was usually hidden behind a pair of thick spectacles, and yet, in his way, Harry was almost a reflection of Angus, both being old and sagging and with white thinning hair. Perhaps there was a breed of elderly men who attached themselves to married couples.
    "Were you ever married, Harry?" asked Agatha.
    He blinked at her through his glasses and said, "Yes, but she died twenty years ago."
    "And you, Angus?"
    "Never found anyone to suit me," said Angus sadly. His Scottish accent was only slight when he forgot to thicken it. "If I