CHRISTMAS MYSTERY by Sophie Weston: EPISODE 4 Missed the start? Click here to read from episode 1
Liv hardly recognised Carlo’s. The old pizzeria had expanded to absorb the shop next door and there was a glass conservatory at the back. The cheery red-checked tablecloths had gone, replaced by white starch. And the tables were as far apart as the stars.
But Rosa was sitting in their old corner. She looked just the same, hair slightly greyer, but the jewel-coloured cashmere scarf was unmistakable. Today it was emerald. She waved a hand as she saw Liv in the doorway.
Liv went over and sat down opposite her. “What happened to this place?” Continue reading →
CHRISTMAS MYSTERY by Sophie Weston: EPISODE 3 Missed the start? Click here to read from epsode 1
The hotel receptionist beckoned as Liv went past the desk.
“Oh, Mrs Rossignol. A lady left a message for you.” She handed it over with a beaming professional smile. The envelope was in a sealed plastic bag. Rather like the receptionist, who was wearing a clear plastic full-face visor and what looked like full Hollywood make-up behind it.
“Thank you,” said Liv. “Are you uncomfortable in that thing?”
The girl looked surprised at being asked, then smiled more naturally. “You get used to it. My skin prickles after a long shift. But hey, that’s what moisturiser’s for, isn’t it? And I’m lucky to have a job.”
“Yes,” said Liv. “This virus makes me count my blessings every day.”
In her suite, she slid the envelope out of its plastic protections. She knew who it was from without even opening it. The beautiful Italic script was unmistakable. Continue reading →
There was fog over the rooftops when Liv looked out from her bedroom window for the last time. She kind of loved this view of her bit of London. Like Mary Poppins and her sweep, she saw Victorian chimneys, with a distant church tower and, even further away, a block of Edwardian apartments.
There was often a light in that distant top floor. Not this morning. Everything was dark. As dark and cold as the soon-to-be-deserted bedroom, waiting to be emptied of all that she’d not already got rid of. More like Scrooge than Mary Poppins, thought Liv, wryly.
The sky was getting lighter by the minute, behind the fog. Time to go then.