Bert felt jealous, cheated on, and blue. Then he discovered he could morph into a giant nightmarish slug...
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On Wednesdays and Sundays I’m blogging nibble-sized chunks of new ‘Life in the Clouds’ novellas. You can check in regularly and read them bit for bit, or leave a message in my 'contact' page, and I'll send the entire digital story to you for free when published.
Life in the Clouds #6: Take a Slug ® James Field.
Olive picked up her umbrella and the two suitcases. She nodded goodbye to the secretary at her desk and hurried so fast that Mr Styles couldn’t help her carry the suitcases. She rushed through the door, into the waiting taxicab, and said loud enough for Mr Styles to hear, “Chipwick railway station.”
At the station, she ignored offers from porters to carry her bags. She’d left a secret message for the handsome Mr Cocky to meet her under the station clock, and now he came to her side. “Don’t speak,” said Olive, looking straight ahead and speaking softly. She headed for the ticket machine, Mr Cocky tagging along like a randy dog. “Nobody must see us together. I’m going to Harrogate for a week’s spa. If you want to join me, take the next train and I’ll meet you at the station. I’m picking my car up at Edgware and driving the rest of the way.”
She bought a ticket for Edgware and just had time to board the eleven-thirty train. As the train pulled out, she sat in a window seat and blew a kiss to Mr Cocky.
When the train reached the next station, Olive got off and bought a ticket for Sidcup, the town in the opposite direction. There she sat, hidden in a back carriage, suitcases at her feet. At the station, she strolled out to the vestibule, carrying the suitcases. Her face was blank, uninterested. For a second, the light of adventure crossed her features and vanished.
At the garage where she'd left her car the previous evening, she asked the supervisor: “Have you repaired my car—Morris Mini, engine not running properly? Name’s Miss Hanson, Sugar Pop to my friends.”
“Nope!” said the supervisor, rubbing his black and greasy fingers on an equally black and greasy cloth. “Couple of jobs before it. Haven’t had time to touch it yet. Ought to get at it early this afternoon.”
To be continued…
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The Thursday Murder Club by Richard Osman
My rating: 2 of 5 stars
There’s a lot to like and a lot to dislike in this story. I like that it’s cosy, funny, and heart-warming. The plot, however, is a tragedy. There are two murders, and every character in the book, of which there are many, has a motif. With so many twists, turns, and red herrings throughout the narrative, it lost me in a virtual maze.
But the author commits the gravest crime: he introduces a new, guilty character right at the end of the story. Tut, tut, naughty.
View all my reviews