Free Death of a Hussy by MC Beaton

eyes were large and very blue. She walked into the kitchen where Alison was having coffee with Mrs Todd and stood for a moment, relishing the dawning surprise on both faces.
    ‘Yes, it’s me,’ she said triumphantly, if ungrammatically.
    ‘It can’t be,’ breathed Alison. ‘I wouldn’t have known you. What have you done to yourself?’
    ‘Best health farm and best plastic surgeon,’ said Maggie, who had also acquired a new husky voice. ‘Gosh, it’s good to be back in Peasantville. Take my coat, Mrs Todd. I’m expecting four guests tomorrow so I want you to get the beds ready. Hang that coat up and come back and I’ll tell you about it.’
    Alison looked at the beautiful Maggie in a dazed way. Maggie, she reflected, was like a highly coloured butterfly that had emerged from a chrysalis of fat. Then sharp anguish struck Alison around the region of the midriff. The car! What would happen to her driving?
    ‘Who are these four guests?’ she asked instead.
    ‘They are four fellows I used to know,’ said Maggie, stretching and yawning. ‘I’ve decided the single state doesn’t suit me so I went through my old lists and came up with four who are likely to propose. There’s Peter Jenkins, he’s an advertising executive, Crispin Witherington who owns a car sales room in Finchley, James Frame who runs a gambling club, and that pop singer, Steel Ironside.’
    ‘I thought he was dead,’ said Alison.
    ‘Who?’
    ‘Steel Ironside. He hasn’t made a record in years.’
    ‘He’s alive, all right.’
    ‘And you expect one of them to propose to you just like that?’
    Maggie smiled slowly while Alison studied her aunt’s new face for wrinkles and couldn’t find one. ‘I expect all of them to propose. Oh, I don’t rate my charms all that much. They all need money and whichever one marries me will get it and so I’ll tell ’em. Cuts you out, of course.’
    ‘How does it cut me out?’ asked Alison.
    ‘Oh, I’d made my will out in your favour but I’ll change it as soon as I’ve made my choice.’
    ‘How’s your heart?’ asked Alison and then blushed.
    ‘Hoping I’ll pop off before I change my will? Hard luck, sweetie.’
    Mrs Todd came back and Maggie began to tell her briskly what to do about preparing for the guests. If only Maggie would drop dead, thought Alison fiercely, it would all be mine, the house and the car and Mrs Todd.
    She longed for Hamish. In fact the only thing to lighten her misery at Maggie’s return was that it gave her a good excuse to visit Hamish. But, oh, that dreadfully long, long walk along the coast now that she could not use the car.
    ‘Have you finished typing that manuscript for me?’ Alison suddenly realized Maggie was speaking to her.
    ‘Yes, it’s all typed up,’ said Alison, quickly averting her eyes so that Maggie should not see the disgust in them. The manuscript had become increasingly pornographic as it went along. Until she had read Maggie’s book, Alison, who read a great deal, had thought that she knew every sexual kink and aberration there was, but Maggie’s writing had introduced her to a whole new and disgusting world of sleaze. Then Alison decided to take the plunge. Better to ask Maggie about the car, this new and relaxed Maggie, and to ask her while Mrs Todd was present.
    ‘I’ve a surprise for you, Maggie,’ she said in a breathless rush. ‘I passed my driving test while you were away.’ The words began to tumble out. It wasn’t Mrs Todd’s fault. She, Alison, had told her that she had had Maggie’s permission to use the car, but Alison knew that dear Maggie wouldn’t really mind because …
    Her voice trailed away before the glacial expression in Maggie’s now beautiful and large blue eyes.
    ‘That is my car,’ said Maggie, ‘and you are not to touch it again, d’ye hear? Now I am going down to the village to stun them all with my new appearance. I may even drop in and try my hand with that copper, and while I’m gone, I suggest