A Theatrical Murder (#13 - Sanford Third Age Club Mystery) (STAC - Sanford Third Age Club Mystery) by David W Robinson

Author:David W Robinson [Robinson, David W]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Crooked Cat Books
Published: 2015-03-30T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

“You know what we need, don’t you?” Brenda asked as she came out of the changing cubicle, a plain, dark blue dress in her hand, and a marked scowl on her face.

Sheila giggled. “Larger cubicles?”

“Very funny. If that’s a size twelve, I’ll show my… never mind.” Brenda hung the dress back on the rail where she had found it. “No, Sheila. What we need is some serious pampering, and I think I know just the place. Trust me, it’s not Mablethorpe or Skegness.”

More soberly, Sheila insisted, “What we really need is to get back into the swing of things. It’s just after Christmas, Brenda. The Lazy Luncheonette has been quiet because most of our regulars are still off work. Once we get to Monday and everyone is back at work, we’ll soon sweat the excess off.”

Brenda led the way from the shop, out into the cold and cloudy day. “I’m not talking about my weight, or yours. I’m talking about… oh, I don’t know.” She waved a hand at the area. “This.”

Shivering as an icy blast of wind shot from the sea straight up the High Street, Sheila tried to follow her friend’s wave, seeking the focus of the vague gesture.

For a Saturday afternoon, there were few people to be seen, and some of the small businesses had already drawn down the shutters. Christmas lights still flickered in the window of The Reading Room, and a large, free-standing Santa outside a gift shop wafted to and fro in the gales. Prevented from blowing away by two large sandbags on his base, his raised arm gave the absurd impression that he was beckoning to them. Her gaze moved swiftly yet again concentrating once more on the pub doorway, where a man she promptly recognised, and a woman she had never seen before, greeted each other with an air kiss. After exchanging a brief word, they stepped into the pub.

“Odd,” she commented.

“There’s nothing odd about it. As you pointed out, it’s just after Christmas. It’ll be getting dark in less than two hours and by the time we get back to Skegness, it’ll be night. It’s depressing, Sheila. We need to get away properly, get some sun on our backs, and like I said, I think I know just the place.” Brenda, too, scanned the High Street. “But I can’t see a travel agent’s.”

Her mind still on the pair she had seen going into the pub, Sheila allowed her friend’s complaint to run its course before replying. “I’m not talking about your moans and groans. I’m talking about that man and woman I’ve just seen going into the pub.” She pointed across the street.

“What man and woman?”

“I don’t know who the woman was, but the man was Nat Billingham.”

Brenda grinned. “With Teri?”

“I just said, Brenda, I don’t know who the woman was, but I do know it wasn’t Teri.”

The smile faded slowly from Brenda’s face as the import of Sheila’s message sank in. “So that’s his game, is it? Not drug dealing, but two-timing Teri.

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