In the last post: Early one morning, Dick Charmer boom-blasted music from a roof. The girls loved it, but Bert would kill him...
Dear friends, if you like a good chuckle, dim-witted heroes, and larger-than-life villains, then you'll love this fascinating series. On Tuesdays and Saturdays, I’m blogging nibble-sized chunks of new ‘Life in the Clouds’ stories. You can check in regularly and read them free, or wait to buy the whole story when published.
Enchanter on the Roof ® James Field. Part 03
As the sun rose higher and its warmth drew sweat from Dick Charmer’s energetic labour on the roof, he tossed his T-shirt aside, turned up the volume on his boom-blaster, and took a couple of minutes to dance. As on previous days, a group of spectators had gathered. Most of them were rich young girls who giggled behind their hands, danced wantonly, and called to say they loved him.
But today a group of men had also gathered to see what all the fuss was about. Among them were the Cloud Mansion’s two burly security guards, Alf and Bert. In front of them stood semi-retired Chief Inspector Dobbs, who owned a weekend cottage at The Stables, and beside him Vicar Bitter who lived in the small, disused chapel’s vicarage. At the front stood Morris, the Cloud Mansion’s pint-sized gardener and self-appointed General, hands in pockets.
“Yes,” said Morris, “I can’t find fault with his work. He’s made a good job of re-tiling the roof. Not so sure I approve of his modus operandi though.”
“It’s a sin the way he carries on,” said Vicar Bitter, and crossed himself.
Chief Inspector Dobbs tilted his head as if weighing evidence. “I’ll have my boys check him out.” He wrote a note in his notebook, dropped it into a pocket in his mackintosh, and then stabbed a finger at the hooligan. “I haven’t liked the look of him from day one.”
To be continued…
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Best Kept Secret by Jeffrey Archer
My rating: 1 of 5 stars
Did Not Finish.
This is book three in a series of seven. The principal plotline in the first two books is: who is Harry Clifton’s father? Is he a wealthy, titled upper-class aristocrat, or a low-class dock worker bum? By book three, because it’s the best-kept secret, we still don’t know. And as Harry doesn’t care, one way or the other, neither do I.
Apart from that, the storyline has developed into a soap opera, with plot elements dragging on the same as the same as the same...
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