CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Since arriving in Hawksmead, Audrey had visited the town’s Victorian library building several times, not for anything in particular but because she loved the smell of old books. She could also use the library’s computers if she needed to do anything that was too fiddly for her phone; and there was the convenience of an ATM for withdrawing cash in warmth and safety.
Audrey went up to the front desk and was greeted by Shirley, a woman of similar age to her.
‘I would like to look at newspapers from fifty years ago. Do you have old copies filed away in a vault by any slim chance?’
‘In those days, newspapers were photographed on film,’ Shirley said, clearly delighted to see Audrey again. ‘We’ve an old viewer, somewhere.’
Audrey moistened her lips, doing her best to rei
