Chapter Nineteen
Encore
“Happy women are as receptive to ESP-ing as a teenager is to a parent’s advice.” —A frustrated Identity
They stood at the front door. To a passerby, it looked dark and shut. Archie muttered, “Encore.”
A hand slid from the door and grabbed his collar. Archie, with a “do the same” look at the others, disappeared.
Bunnie followed; she muttered “encore” and pushed Beryl to the door, and Beryl with a “really” was pulled in. Don, DJ, and Bunnie followed to find Beryl adjusting her beehive with a ruffled “was that necessary” tut.
The bookshop was lit with candles and smelt of vanilla; in the shadows concealing the café beyond hung a tatty purple curtain with gold stars painted on it. From the floors above could be heard the faint murmur of a Scottish accent . . .
“A
