But Poirot complimented her gravely.

‘It is a beautiful creation that you have on, Madame.’

‘It is nice, isn’t it,’ said Hattie happily. ‘I wore it for Ascot.’

The minor film star was arriving and Hattie moved forward to greet her.

Poirot retreated into the background. He wandered around disconsolately – everything seemed to be proceeding in the normal fashion of fêtes. There was a coconut shy, presided over by Sir George in his heartiest fashion, a skittle alley and a hoop-la. There were various ‘stalls’ displaying local produce of fruit, vegetables, jams and cakes – and others displaying ‘fancy objects.’ There were ‘raffles’ of cakes, of baskets of fruit; even, it seemed, of a pig; and a ‘Lucky Dip’ for children at twopence a go.

There was a good crowd of people by now and an Exhibition of Children’s Dancing began. Poirot saw no sign of Mrs Oliver, but Lady Stubbs’ cyclamen pink figure showed up amongst the crowd as she drifted rather vaguely about. The focus of attention, however, seemed to be Mrs Folliat. She was quite transformed in appearance – wearing a hydrangea-blue foulard frock and a smart grey hat, she appeared to preside over the proceedings, greeting new arrivals, and directing people to the various side shows.

Poirot lingered near her and listened to some of the conversations.

‘Amy, my dear, how are you?’

‘Oh, Pamela, how nice of you and Edward to come. Such a long way from Tiverton.’

‘The weather’s held for you. Remember the year before the war? Cloudburst came down about four o’clock. Ruined the whole show.’

‘But it’s been a wonderful summer this year. Dorothy! It’s ages since I’ve seen you.’

‘We felt we had to come and see Nasse in its glory. I see you’ve cut back the berberis on the bank.’

‘Yes, it shows the hydrangeas better, don’t you think?’

‘How wonderful they are. What a blue! But, my dear, you’ve done wonders in the last year. Nasse is really beginning to look like itself again.’

Dorothy’s husband boomed in a deep voice:

‘Came over to see the commandant here during the war. Nearly broke my heart.’

Mrs Folliat turned to greet a humbler visitor.

‘Mrs Knapper, I am pleased to see you. Is this Lucy? How she’s grown!’

‘She’ll be leaving school next year. Pleased to see you looking so well, ma’am.’

‘I’m very well, thank you. You must go and try your luck at hoop-la, Lucy. See you in the tea tent later, Mrs Knapper. I shall be helping with the teas.’

An elderly man, presumably Mr Knapper, said diffidently:

‘Pleased to have you back at Nasse, ma’am. Seems like old times.’

Mrs Folliat’s response was drowned as two women and a big beefy man rushed towards her.