The Toowoomba Carnival of Flowers is held in September, and generally runs for ten days at the end of the month.
We visited the Laurel Bank Park, where there are beds of many colorful flowers,
open spaces,
statues,
an area set aside for not only tulips but a model windmill
and quite a number of hedge sculptures
There was also the opportunity to go on a morning or afternoon garden tour which visited a number of private gardens of residences in Toowoomba.
It could be said that of all the women one could meet, whether contrived or by sheer luck, what are the odds it would turn out to be the woman who was being paid a very large sum to kill you.
John Pennington is a man who may be lucky in business, but not so lucky in love. He has just broken up with Phillipa Sternhaven, the woman he thought was the one, but relatives and circumstances, and perhaps because she was a ‘princess’, may also have contributed to the end result.
So, what do you do when you are heartbroken?
That is a story that slowly unfolds, from the first meeting with his nemesis on Lake Geneva, all the way to a hotel room in Sorrento, where he learns the shattering truth.
What should have been solace after disappointment, turns out to be something else entirely, and from that point, everything goes to hell in a handbasket.
He suddenly realizes his so-called friend Sebastian has not exactly told him the truth about a small job he asked him to do, the woman he is falling in love with is not quite who she says she is, and he is caught in the middle of a war between two men who consider people becoming collateral damage as part of their business.
The story paints the characters cleverly displaying all their flaws and weaknesses. The locations add to the story at times taking me back down memory lane, especially to Venice where, in those back streets I confess it’s not all that hard to get lost.
All in all a thoroughly entertaining story with, for once, a satisfying end.
…
Available on Amazon here: https://amzn.to/2Xyh1ow
…
This book has been sitting in the ‘to-be-done’ tray, so this month it is going to get the final revision.
…
Talk about rescue missions gone wrong.
John is not very good at this, though who’s to say Sebastian isn’t as good as he thinks he is.
So, tossed in a basement awaiting his fate, who should he discover: Zoe
Mission accomplished.
Of course, no good deed goes unpunished as she tears strips off him for being a fool, firstly to come after her, and second, for trusting Sebastian.
But, they’ve been in tighter scrapes before, and the fun is just about to begin.
After a few minutes of catching up!
And, no doubt, Sebastian is somewhere near plotting his own operation to fix up the first operation.
There’s more than one way … er, perhaps it’s better to say, there are many ways to use the word bar, which is not bad for a three-letter word.
Bar, the one you associate with drinks, in hotels, restaurants and we’ll, just bars.
Probably the best type of bar you might find me in is a Sports Bar, where you can snack on buffalo wings a tall glass of beer and watch with ice hockey in winter or baseball in summer.
It’s one I use from time to time when asked, what will we do, and the reply is often let’s go to a bar. The best bars are underground, dark and dingy, full of eclectic people, with a band playing almost passable music or better still jazz
Bar, as in the legal variety
There are so many legal references to using bar, that the one that I am most familiar with is being admitted to the bar which means that you can now practice law.
Raising the bar, if that’s possible, where the bar is that imaginary level which offers sinks very low. When someone says they’re going to try and raise the bar, you may be assured there will be a long battle ahead, simply because people generally find it hard to change.
Bar, as in we are not going to let you in here. Yes, this is the irksome one where you find yourself, often for reasons unknown, barred from somewhere or something. This may also be referred to by saying everyone may enter bar you.
Bar, as in an iron bar, the sort that is sometimes used as a blunt force object by villains to remind the victim they owe any one of a loan shark, bookie or the mafia. God help you if it is all three.
There are also iron bars of a different sort, those that are set in concrete outside a window most likely in a prison where the objective is to prevent escape.
It gives rise to an old expression, that person should be behind bars.
Then there is just a bar, such as a bar of gold, which I’m sure we’d all like to have stashed away, but not necessarily in the mattress, or the more common variety, a chocolate bar, which I have one now. What’s your favorite?
And just to add to the list of meanings you can always refer to sashes or stripes as bars.
Confused? Well, there’s still music, and the bane of yachtsmen, sand bars but I think we’ll leave it there.
Welcome to the English language
Now available on Amazon at: https://amzn.to/2H7ALs8
…
Williams’ Restaurant, East 65th Street, New York, Saturday, 8:00 p.m.
We met the Blaine’s at Williams’, a rather upmarket restaurant that the Blaine’s frequently visited, and had recommended.
Of course, during the taxi ride there, Alison reminded me that with my new job, we would be able to go to many more places like Williams’. It was, at worst, more emotional blackmail, because as far as Alison was concerned, we were well on our way to posh restaurants, the Trump Tower Apartments, and the trappings of the ‘executive set’.
It would be a miracle if I didn’t strangle Elaine before the night was over. It was she who had filled Alison’s head with all this stuff and nonsense.
Aside from the half frown half-smile, Alison was looking stunning. It was months since she had last dressed up, and she was especially wearing the dress I’d bought her for our 5th anniversary that cost a month’s salary. On her, it was worth it, and I would have paid more if I had to. She had adored it, and me, for a week or so after.
For tonight, I think I was close to getting back on that pedestal.
She had the looks and figure to draw attention, the sort movie stars got on the red carpet, and when we walked into the restaurant, I swear there were at least five seconds silence, and many more gasps.
Even I had a sudden loss of breath earlier in the evening when she came out of the dressing room. Once more I was reminded of how lucky I was that she had agreed to marry me. Amid all those self-doubts, I couldn’t believe she had loved me when there were so many others ‘out there’ who were more appealing.
Elaine was out of her seat and came over just as the Head Waiter hovered into sight. She personally escorted Alison to the table, allowing me to follow like the Queen’s consort, while she and Alison basked in the admiring glances of the other patrons.
More than once I heard the muted question, “Who is she?”
Jimmy stood, we shook hands, and then we sat together. It was not the usual boy, girl, boy, girl seating arrangement. Jimmy and I on one side and Elaine and Alison on the other.
The battle lines were drawn.
Jimmy was looking fashionable, with the permanent blade one beard, unkempt hair, and designer dinner suit that looked like he’d slept in it. Alison insisted I wear a tuxedo, and I looked like the proverbial penguin or just a thinner version of Alfred Hitchcock.
The bow tie had been slightly crooked, but just before we stepped out she had straightened it. And took the moment to look deeply into my soul. It was one of those moments when words were not necessary.
Then it was gone.
I relived it briefly as I sat and she looked at me. A penetrating look that told me to ‘behave’.
When we were settled, Elaine said, in that breathless, enthusiastic manner of hers when she was excited, “So, Harry, you are finally moving up.” It was not a question, but a statement.
I was not sure what she meant by ‘finally’ but I accepted it with good grace. Sometimes Elaine was prone to using figures of speech I didn’t understand. I guessed she was talking about the new job. “It was supposed to be a secret.”
She smiled widely. “There are no secrets between Al and I, are there Al?”
I looked at ‘Al’ and saw a brief look of consternation.
I was not sure Alison liked the idea of being called Al. I tried it once and was admonished. But it was interesting her ‘best friend forever’ was allowed that distinction when I was not. It was, perhaps, another indicator of how far I’d slipped in her estimation.
Perhaps, I thought, it was a necessary evil. As I understood it, the Blaine’s were our mentors at the Trump Tower, because they didn’t just let ‘anyone’ in. I didn’t ask if the Blaine’s thought we were just ‘anyone’ before I got the job offer.
And then there was that look between Alison and Elaine, quickly stolen before Alison realized I was looking at both of them. I was out of my depth, in a place I didn’t belong, with people I didn’t understand. And yet, apparently, Alison did. I must have missed the memo.
“No,” Alison said softly, stealing a glance in my direction, “No secrets between friends.”
No secrets. Her look conveyed something else entirely.
The waiter brought champagne, Krug, and poured glasses for each of us. It was not the cheap stuff, and I was glad I brought a couple of thousand dollars with me. We were going to need it.
Then, a toast.
To a new job and a new life.
“When did you decide?” Elaine was effusive at the best of times, but with the champagne, it was worse.
Alison had a strange expression on her face. It was obvious she had told Elaine it was a done deal, even before I’d made up my mind. Perhaps she’d assumed I might be ‘refreshingly honest’ in front of Elaine, but it could also mean she didn’t really care what I might say or do.
Instead of consternation, she looked happy, and I realized it would be churlish, even silly if I made a scene. I knew what I wanted to say. I also knew that it would serve little purpose provoking Elaine, or upsetting Alison. This was not the time or the place. Alison had been looking forward to coming here, and I was not going to spoil it.
Instead, I said, smiling, “When I woke up this morning and found Alison missing. If she had been there, I would not have noticed the water stain on the roof above our bed, and decide there and then how much I hated the place.” I used my reassuring smile, the one I used with the customers when all hell was breaking loose, and the forest fire was out of control. “It’s the little things. They all add up until one day …” I shrugged. “I guess that one day was today.”
I saw an incredulous look pass between Elaine and Alison, a non-verbal question; perhaps, is he for real? Or; I told you he’d come around.
I had no idea the two were so close.
“How quaint,” Elaine said, which just about summed up her feelings towards me. I think, at that moment, I lost some brownie points. It was all I could come up with at short notice.
“Yes,” I added, with a little more emphasis than I wanted. “Alison was off to get some study in with one of her friends.”
“Weren’t the two of you off to the Hamptons, a weekend with some friends?” Jimmy piped up, and immediately got the ‘shut up you fool’ look, that cut that line of conversation dead. Someone forgot to feed Jimmy his lines.
It was followed by the condescending smile from Elaine, and “I need to powder my nose. Care to join me, Al?”
A frown, then a forced smile for her new best friend. “Yes.”
I watched them leave the table and head in the direction of the restroom, looking like they were in earnest conversation. I thought ‘Al’ looked annoyed, but I could be wrong.
I had to say Jimmy looked more surprised than I did.
There was that odd moment of silence between us, Jimmy still smarting from his death stare, and for me, the Alison and Elaine show. I was quite literally gob-smacked.
I drained my champagne glass gathering some courage and turned to him. “By the way, we were going to have a weekend away, but this legal tutorial thing came up. You know Alison is doing her law degree.”
He looked startled when he realized I had spoken. He was looking intently at a woman several tables over from us, one who’d obviously forgotten some basic garments when getting dressed. Or perhaps it was deliberate. She’d definitely had some enhancements done.
He dragged his eyes back to me. “Yes. Elaine said something or other about it. But I thought she said the tutor was out of town and it had been postponed until next week. Perhaps I got it wrong. I usually do.”
“Perhaps I’ve got it wrong.” I shrugged, as the dark thoughts started swirling in my head again. “This week or next, what does it matter?”
Of course, it mattered to me, and I digested what he said with a sinking heart. It showed there was another problem between Alison and me; it was possible she was now telling me lies. If what he said was true and I had no reason to doubt him, where was she going tomorrow morning, and had she really been with a friend studying today?
We poured some more champagne, had a drink, then he asked, “This promotion thing, what’s it worth?”
“Trouble, I suspect. Definitely more money, but less time at home.”
“Oh,” raised eyebrows. Obviously, the women had not talked about the job in front of him, or, at least, not all the details. “You sure you want to do that?”
At last the voice of reason. “Me? No.”
“Yet you accepted the job.”
I sucked in a breath or two while I considered whether I could trust him. Even if I couldn’t, I could see my ship was sinking, so it wouldn’t matter what I told him, or what Elaine might find out from him. “Jimmy, between you and me I haven’t as yet decided one way or another. To be honest, I won’t know until I go up to Barclay’s office and he asks me the question.”
“Barclay?”
“My boss.”
“Elaine’s doing a job for a Barclay that recently moved in the tower a block down from us. I thought I recognized the name.”
“How did Elaine get the job?”
“Oh, Alison put him onto her.”
“When?”
“A couple of months ago. Why?”
I shrugged and tried to keep a straight face, while my insides were churning up like the wake of a supertanker. I felt sick, faint, and wanting to die all at the same moment. “Perhaps she said something about it, but it didn’t connect at the time. Too busy with work I expect. I think I seriously need to get away for a while.”
I could hardly breathe, my throat was constricted and I knew I had to keep it together. I could see Elaine and Alison coming back, so I had to calm down. I sucked in some deep breaths, and put my ‘manage a complete and utter disaster’ look on my face.
And I had to change the subject, quickly, so I said, “Jimmy, Elaine told Alison, who told me, you were something of a guru of the cause and effects of the global economic meltdown. Now, I have a couple of friends who have been expounding this theory …”
Like flicking a switch, I launched into the well-worn practice of ‘running a distraction’, like at work when we needed to keep the customer from discovering the truth. It was one of the things I was good at, taking over a conversation and pushing it in a different direction. It was salvaging a good result from an utter disaster, and if ever there was a time that it was required, it was right here, right now.
When Alison sat down and looked at me, she knew something had happened between Jimmy and I. I might have looked pale or red-faced, or angry or disappointed, it didn’t matter. If that didn’t seal the deal for her, the fact I took over the dining engagement did. She knew well enough the only time I did that was when everything was about to go to hell in a handbasket. She’d seen me in action before and had been suitably astonished.
But I got into gear, kept the champagne flowing and steered the conversation, as much as one could from a seasoned professional like Elaine, and, I think, in Jimmy’s eyes, he saw the battle lines and knew who took the crown on points. Neither Elaine nor Jimmy suspected anything, and if the truth be told, I had improved my stocks with Elaine. She was at times both surprised and interested, even willing to take a back seat.
Alison, on the other hand, tried poking around the edges, and, once when Elaine and Jimmy had got up to have a cigarette outside, questioned me directly. I chose to ignore her, and pretend nothing had happened, instead of telling her how much I was enjoying the evening.
She had her ‘secrets’. I had mine.
At the end of the evening, when I got up to go to the bathroom, I was physically sick from the pent up tension and the implications of what Jimmy had told me. It took a while for me to pull myself together; so long, in fact, Jimmy came looking for me. I told him I’d drunk too much champagne, and he seemed satisfied with that excuse. When I returned, both Alison and Elaine noticed how pale I was but neither made any comment.
It was a sad way to end what was supposed to be a delightful evening, which to a large degree it was for the other three. But I had achieved what I set out to do, and that was to play them at their own game, watching the deception, once I knew there was a deception, as warily as a cat watches its prey.
I had also discovered Jimmy’s real calling; a professor of economics at the same University Alison was doing her law degree. It was no surprise in the end, on a night where surprises abounded, that the world could really be that small.
We parted in the early hours of the morning, a taxi whisking us back to the Lower East Side, another taking the Blaine’s back to the Upper West Side. But, in our case, as Alison reminded me, it would not be for much longer. She showed concern for my health, asked me what was wrong. It took all the courage I could muster to tell her it was most likely something I ate and the champagne, and that I would be fine in the morning.
She could see quite plainly it was anything other than what I told her, but she didn’t pursue it. Perhaps she just didn’t care what I was playing at.
And yet, after everything that had happened, once inside our ‘palace’, the events of the evening were discarded, like her clothing, and she again reminded me of what we had together in the early years before the problems had set in.
It left me confused and lost.
I couldn’t sleep because my mind had now gone down that irreversible path that told me I was losing her, that she had found someone else, and that our marriage was in its last death throes.
And now I knew it had something to do with Barclay.
© Charles Heath 2015-2020
A visit to Heidi’s mother-in-law
…
I had intended to go to the Burkehardt residence with Ceceila as backup, but that would have left Francesca to her own devices, which to me would have been to turn up at the residence unannounced.
If Francesca had wanted to leave, Cecelia would let her, and it would not surprise me if she either let her bosses know how things were going, especially in relation to Juliet, and that they would want Francesca to find her. The other possibility, is that Francesca was on her way, or already at the residence making herself known on behalf of her employers.
That I was wrong on all counts when I rang Cecelia to see if she had left, was disconcerting. It meant another game was in play. I was sure she had reported to her employers by now, and that they had asked her to impede us at every turn. It just made it harder to guess why Francesca was with us.
I was stopped at the gate to the main Burkehardt residence by guards, who, I deduced from their dismissive manner, had been instructed to turn everyone away. I asked them to tell the Mistress that I had information on the Countess Heidi von Burkehart’s whereabouts and then waited ten minutes before the gates magically opened.
If Alessandro was there, I would have some explaining to do.
I parked the car on the gravel outside the front portico and walked up the stairs to the front entrance. The doors were open and a man in a morning suit was waiting for me. I’d give the gate my Detective Inspector’s name, without the Detective Inspector prefix.
“Come this way.”
It was all he said.
I followed him through to a large room off the side of the entrance hall, what looked like a library, with several full-size suits of armour.
The older Countess was waiting for me at the front of her desk.
“Mr. Johnson, though I’m sure that bears no resemblance to your real name, and Detective Inspector you definitely are not.”
“I assure you I am, but it’s just one of my jobs. Like I told your son Alessandro back in London, they only call me when it looks like the jurisdiction is about to change.”
“You have no authority here.”
“True, but like I said, they call me in when that happens. My other self is the one with no borders, nor do I care about jurisdiction. I come, solve the problem, and then go. I am only interested in the wellbeing of the Countess Heidi. Don’t make this into more than it is.”
“Security said you were going to be a pain, as did the people I employed to find the countess. Perhaps I should fire them and employ you instead.” She went behind her desk and sat down.
I sat in a chair to one side of the desk.
“It won’t do you much good to try. I’m not doing this for the money. I’m supposed to be retired, but I have an old boss who won’t let me go.”
“Rodby, yes. His wife is the sister of the countess. Fancy having a direct connection to a spy organisation. I only just found that out but I’m sure you knew that. I presume your other self is a spy?”
“I wish. The suits, the cars, the toys.” I shook my head. “Nothing quite as glamorous, I can assure you. And I only just discovered the Heidi connection too. One of the drawbacks, we don’t always get the whole story.” A bit too much sharing, but it was more to disarm the old lady, who looked to me still had some fire and brimstone in reserve.
“You said you have information about the countess?”
“I do. But before I tell you, I need to know is there anyone you have managed to make angry, or you have caused problems for, or who wants to buy this enterprise, perhaps with prejudice?”
She gave me a look that was surprise or contempt before she summoned her best angry tone to say, “That’s absurd.”
It meant one of the three suggestions was right.
“You run a very profitable and well-respected operation here. It no doubt creates rivalry with others in the same line of business who are not as well run, perhaps.”
It had to be a business rival. The most recent information from the research team mentioned that there were several suitors for the business after the Count died, but no one specific.
I could see her expression soften, that it was a problem she wanted to resolve herself, but it was not working out. Alessandro had tried and failed to make it seem like business as usual, but a ship without a rudder soon foundered. The uncertainty about the successor to the count had created uncertainty in the investors.
“There is one person, though I’m not sure he qualifies as aggressive but he is incompetent. Alberto Dicostini. The count and he were friends and business partners until Dicostini stole from the business. After that, they became bitter rivals. I am sure it is he who killed my husband, and later my son, the count. It is why my sons and daughter have such security. He had vowed to kill us all. He will fail, as he always does.”
And there was a possible solution to the problem. It was possible that it was Dicostini behind the fake countess, and if he presented her as the countess and she inherited, that what is hers would become his. It’s almost foolproof. The fake would have to pass the keen eyes of the Burkehardt family. I’d seen the fake, but I hadn’t known the real one.
“You are vehemently opposed to the countess inheriting are you not?”
“She is an incompetent fool.”
“But a member of this family, and if she was to inherit, would she keep it in the family?”
“You’d think so, but a friend told me she was going to sell it, maybe not to Dicostini, but it will have the same effect. He will get what he wants.”
“Have you tried to convince her to do the right thing. As far as I can tell, she is the lawful heir.”
“There is another.”
“Which your investigators told you about?”
“How do you know this?”
“I have one of them with me. Not here now, but back in Sorrento. That might not necessarily be the case. I’m beginning to believe that she is not a legitimate heir. I suspect that Vittoria Remano, as she calls herself these days, did have a child, but not by the Count. And although the count said he fathered a child, I believe he never got to see anything but photos, nor living proof, just the word of a maid.”
“And the birth certificate?”
“Did you get you investigators the check it?’
“I assumed they did.”
“Then they’ve got two days before I bring the three women to the solicitor’s office for the signing. One of them will be a woman claiming to be the countess.”
“So, you know where she is?”
I sighed. “You’re not listening to me.”
She paused for a moment as if to go over our conversation. Then, “You’re saying the woman you have is not the countess?”
“I’m saying I don’t know, but if it was the real countess, who was kidnapped with Mrs Rodby, why is Mrs Rodby still missing?”
© Charles Heath 2023
…
Was that a battle of wits?
…
I think I won the battle of wits, or whatever it was.
A few moments later he sat on the other side, pushing the chair back from the table, and me, as a deliberate act.
Distancing.
Besides adopting the speak when spoken to route, I was also adopting that age old modus operandi of not volunteering anything. If they knew anything they would have to tell me what they knew.
So, to begin with, another round of silence.
Then, after a few more minutes, s thin knowing smile, as if he knew everything I’d do before I did. Perhaps he was a psychology professor.
“What we you doing in a no fly zone?”
Well that answered at least two questions right there. We were where we were not supposed to be, and, as a stab in the dark, knowing how good the pilot was, we had deliberately strayed there.
On orders, or curiosity. No, orders.
Reason, suspected enemy or other activity in a designated area being used as cover. Had the Commander known about this and ordered a discreet incursion.
It felt more like a routine operation.
“I was not the pilot. You’d have to ask him, although that might be difficult now he’s dead.”
“The nature of you pre op briefing, then?”
“There wasn’t one, or if there was, I wasn’t included.”
“That would be a violation of regulations would it not?”
“You’d have to ask the military lawyers. I just make up the numbers, and do as I’m told.” I could add more but don’t volunteer information. Let them dig for it.
“Then why were you on board?”
He asked that question as if it was a surprise to him or someone else.
I think at that moment I realised there might be bigger fish that might get fried from this interview. There was an arrangement in place that if the pilot wanted to go up for extra hours, he had to take someone like me along, for situations like that which had happened.
This had been sanctioned by the Commander, but I don’t think it included heading out to hot spots. If this man was from our side, he might be on a witch hunt.
I looked at him in a new light.
This man was trouble of a different sort.
…
© Charles Heath 2019-2021
I’m back home and this story has been sitting on a back burner for a few months, waiting for some more to be written.
The trouble is, there are also other stories to write, and I’m not very good at prioritizing.
But, here we are, a few minutes opened up and it didn’t take long to get back into the groove.
Chasing leads, maybe
…
Darkness fell in a noticeably short time, and we left the pub at about six. In the hour so we have been there I’d been keeping a close eye on the comings and goings, and in particular, if O’Connell came in, or someone else that might look like him.
He hadn’t, nor had any mythical family members. Well, it had been a long shot.
Jennifer hadn’t volunteered anything more to the conversation and sat working her way through a piece of fried fish and a bowl of chips. Neither had looked appetizing. I would have bet she’d have the chicken, but I was wrong, and probably it wasn’t going to be the first time.
“Do you have a gun?”
It was after ten minutes of silence. It worried me that she didn’t ask how far it was or how long it would take. And then, out of nowhere, the gun question.
“No. Why would I have a gun.?”
“We were issued with weapons. I still have mine.”
“Did you bring it with you?”
“No. Like I told you, I didn’t think I was still working for the Department. They didn’t ask for it back, so I didn’t give it to them.”
“Or the identities?”
“No. It was odd though; they didn’t ask about them either.”
“Maybe they were going to wait a while and then ask you back.”
This was a weird conversation to be having. By this time we were in Peaslake Lane, and not far from the house I pulled over to the side of the road, under a tree.
The houses were set back in a rural setting. Between the darkness and the undergrowth, the chances were we could get to the house without being seen. From where I was sitting, no windows or doors were visible.
I made sure the car’s internal light didn’t go on the moment the door was open.
“Are you bringing your cell phone?”
“Why. I’m not envisaging having to call anyone, nor am I expecting a call.”
I shrugged, and slipped mine into a pocket where I could easily reach it I needed to.
I got out of the car, and she followed. She left he bag in the car. The first sign of training kicking in; eave all un-necessary baggage behind. Perhaps having a gun might have been a good option if we ran into trouble.
Oddly enough, now that I thought about it, Monica hadn’t asked for mine back either, but it was sitting at home in a safe, along with the five other identities Severin had issued each of us with.
I locked the car, equally as silent and invisible as she joined me.
“Which house?”
“Three along. Follow me and keep your eyes and ears peeled.”
I didn’t have to tell her, but it didn’t hurt to emphasize the importance of stealth. There were people home in other houses, lights in windows just discernible through the trees, one house a window without a curtain, a view into the dining room, but there was no one at the table.
If we were visiting them, perhaps we’d be in time for dinner.
The house we were looking for was in darkness from our approach.
“You keep an eye open this side, and I’ll go around the other, then come back. I’ll see if there’s an easy entry point.”
“What if someone is home?”
“Doesn’t look like it from here, and I’ll be surprised if there is.”
A moment later she had disappeared into the shrub line and I was heading across the front of the house, heading for the other side. I kept well away from the front door, just in case there was a motion light, or worse, a motion detector that might set off a silent alarm.
But, that might already have happened, and if it had, no one had made a move inside.
Down the side was walls and windows, no doors or French doors leading out into the garden. None of the windows were at a decent height for us to clamber through, and if we had to, it was going to be difficult.
I continued on, around the back, where there was more success. French doors leading onto a patio, and then the lawn. In the corner was a greenhouse, and next to that a rose garden. Or at least that was what both looked like in the dark.
The moon, for the moment, was hidden by dark clouds.
Perhaps it would rain, though it had not been in the forecast, but, this was England, and it could rain at any time, especially when you didn’t want or need it. There was no light, or motion sensor over the French doors, so I crossed the patio and looked through the doors.
I had expected curtains, but these hadn’t been completely drawn. No large light or lamp on, but there were indicator lights, several red and one a particularly bright blue, casting a rather long shadow over furniture and what looked to be a carpet square.
Out of curiosity, I tried the door.
It was open.
Then I had the blind panic moment of thinking it might be alarmed.
I shut it again and waited.
…
© Charles Heath 2020
This book has been sitting in the ‘to-be-done’ tray, so this month it is going to get the final revision.
…
It’s a recap of how John and Zoe survived the first year of their relationship. Zoe could take only so much downtime, so it was back to work – for different people, she just had to find them.
And, so far, those who are seeking her are still out there.
Fast forward three months: John is trying to figure out what he wants to do next because the easy life is getting to him too.
There’s the possibility of getting a job with Sebastian, after all, he didn’t do that badly the first time around.
There’s languishing with his grandmother, but two visits in a year were one too many.
And yes, he has a seminal moment!
Start a private investigation agency, with himself as the first client – he is beginning to believe Zoe will not be coming back so he is going to find her and find out once and for all if they are over.
How hard could it be?
…
This is the famous clock tower of the Flinders Street Station (the main train station for suburban trains) in Melbourne.
We were staying in a hotel (The Doubletree) directly opposite to the station and our room overlooked the station and the clock tower. I took photos of it during the day:
and this one, at night. It came out better than I thought it would.
