The Party - A Love Story Mystery.
By Carla Bowman
()
About this ebook
A love story mystery.
When Emma Davidson joins a mysterious masked party in Gunter Grove, she meets a very attractive artist. But then a strange series of events makes her wonder whether she imagined it all. Some people, indeed, insist a party never took place. Later, she has the chance of bwcoming the partner of a dependable, though stodgy, manager. Should she seize the chance, or should she try to find the man she loves?
About 20000 words.
Also available as a paperback.
Carla Bowman
For bios and much more, please visit our website: http://indiopolis.com/
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The Party - A Love Story Mystery. - Carla Bowman
The Party
A novella by Carla Bowman
Copyright 2014 Carla Bowman
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used, reproduced, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law, or in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. For information, please contact: http://richygm.wix.com/dick-morris-books
published by: dick morris – carla bowman - books
Other books by Carla Bowman:
Jenny’s First Visit to Doctor Widmark*
Carla And The Black Door Club*
Stacey Finds Love*
Three Erotic Love Stories*
How Not to Treat a Lady
*Also available as paperbacks
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This is a work of fiction, and all characters are imaginary. Any resemblance they might have to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
––––––––
The mystery party took place on Sunday.
Emma left work on Friday in a mixture of moods. She had just been promoted – which was good. And she had just broken up with Callum – which was good. In a short while she had decided that he, a beer drinking, smoker, was not for her. On the other hand, she had heard that the one guy in the office whom she had lusted after, not only because he was about six feet-two inches tall, and therefore about three inches taller than she - had not only broken up with his long term girlfriend, Sheila, but had begun an affair with another office colleague, Mary – of all people. Which was bad. Finally, Emma had an empty weekend ahead of her.
She left her office near Liverpool Street Station at four thirty, and got the tube down to Harrods where she bought some of their best Stilton cheese and some smoked salmon for the weekend thinking she would spend the weekend at home alone. One friend, whom she normally met up with at weekends, had flown off to Australia, and another was in hospital. So, when she got home, she switched on the television and half watched that while she made a snack. She ate in front of the television, only half taking in what she saw on the screen, and then she ran a bath, soaked in it, for the best part of an hour, and went to bed early.
She rose early on Saturday, partly because she woke early, and partly because she liked to see the early morning sun rise over the Thames from her third floor apartment in London's World's End complex. She made herself a pot of tea, and got herself a bowl of breakfast cereal. She took this to the table she had placed near the window and sat there eating and wondering what to do with the rest of the day. A small white-haired, dressing gowned woman, another regular early riser, tidied up her houseboat down on the river, and Emma watched her for a while. Then Emma decided to go into town. There was always something to do there and men to look for. Besides, she now had some extra earnings to commit. She got up, washed up, and dressed in jeans, leather boots, a leather jacket, and pink shirt, with just her favourite watch and earrings to finish. She took the tube to Marble Arch, and then walked down Oxford Street shopping for handbags. She looked in Selfridges, Debenhams, and John Lewis' amongst others. She found several that she liked, but none that she decided to buy. So she would have to shop for a handbag some other day. But that was no ordeal.
She turned into Tottenham Court Road, and decided to go into Foyle’s. The latest releases always interested her. She was looking at novels laid out on the tables just inside the door, when somebody tapped her on the shoulder. It was Sheila, from the office. A short, bespectacled, ginger-haired girl, she was hardly the office beauty. But she seemed to have few problems getting men friends.
Emma smiled. Sheila! Looking for the latest releases?
Yes, I always like to have a book with me to read on the tube. It solves the problem of having to avoid making eye contact.
Have you found anything to interest you?
Emma asked.
Sheila held up a Foyle’s bag. Just some erotica. It helps me do better in bed.
Good for you, Sheila,
Emma said. So what will you do tonight?
I'm going to visit my parents. My mother isn't well.
I'm sorry to hear it.
And I'm going to a house warming party tomorrow,
Sheila said. Why don't you come?
Where is it?
Emma asked.
Finborough Road.
Oh, in my part of the city.
Yes, not far from where you live.
Who's going? Do you know?
I'll be there, and David will be there. And Carrie will be there, and Michael will be there...
All office colleagues, Emma thought. Didn't she see enough of these people during the working week?
There'll probably be others there, including the flat owner, Robert. You'll like him.
Okay,
Emma said. I'll come. What time do you start?
Seven.
Yes, okay. I'll be there.
Good. Look after yourself, Emma. And see you on Sunday evening. Bye.
They hugged and kissed. Then Sheila left the shop.
*
Emma spent another ten minutes in Foyle’s, found nothing to interest her, and then left the shop and walked down the road to the National Portrait Gallery, which she'd always intended to visit. She spent thirty minutes there before leaving to have lunch in Garfunkel's. Finally, she took the tube home. It would be a boring weekend, she thought.
She spent Saturday evening watching a video, spent a long time soaking in the bath – one of the places she always like to be – and went to bed early. She woke at the usual time, put on a gown, got up, and made breakfast. She then took the breakfast tray to the table by the window, and ate looking out over the Thames.