Three Albert Terrace by M. S. Clary

Author:M. S. Clary
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Crime and mystery fiction
Publisher: Troubador Publishing Ltd
Published: 2022-08-03T00:00:00+00:00

40

I go home because I can’t think of anywhere else to go. I meet Mrs Baxter on the stairs. My thoughts are still dwelling on the morning’s events and I don’t want to stop and talk but she says she wants to show me something. I follow her upstairs and we go into her bedroom. Hanging over the wardrobe under a garment bag is a smart apricot coloured dress.

‘This is my outfit,’ she says. ‘I asked Julie to go with me to choose something but she didn’t have time, so I went by myself. What do you think?’

‘It’s lovely Mrs Baxter,’ I say.

‘I’ve got pale grey sandals and a little Dorothy bag to go with it. I’ve not decided on a hat yet. What do you think?’

‘It’s lovely, Mrs Baxter,’ I say again.

A pink spot has appeared on her cheeks as she holds up the dress. She looks happy.

‘It’s not long to go now, less than a week away. Jack mustn’t see this yet,’ she says, thrusting the dress back into its cover.

I’m surprised to hear the wedding day is so close.

‘You’ve had your invitation, haven’t you dear? I hope you can get the day off. It’s only a small ceremony. Julie’s going to be a witness and Jack’s son is going to be best man. He’s been working out in Saudi for the past couple of years – something to do with oil. He’s coming home specially. I think he’s pleased for his father, though you never really know, do you?’

While Mrs Baxter keeps talking my thoughts drift away. There was a time when I might have been telling her about my own future plans, but now they seem as distant as Saudi Arabia.

As though reading my thoughts, she breaks in. ‘What’s happened to that nice young man of yours? He used to be here a lot. I’ve not seen him for ages. Of course, it’s difficult when there’s a child from the previous…’

‘Actually, Mrs Baxter, I have to go, I’ve got some notes to look out for work tomorrow. I’m looking forward to next Wednesday, and your dress is lovely…’

‘Good bye then dear,’ she says. ‘Glad you like my dress.’

I’m searching through my chest of drawers, wondering what I’ll wear to Mrs Baxter’s wedding when I come across a white card. Printed in green letters, is the name Sarah Fielding, freelance journalist. I take it out and look at it for a while.

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