Enchanter on the Roof

By James Field

An enchanting young roofing contractor moves into number three Flintstone Terrace. All the girls in the exclusive private village drool over him, including Bert's fiancé, Olive. When Bert catches them in a passionate embrace, his jealousy takes deadly control.

But the villainous charmer is no fool, and there's something more sinister in the works than Bert's violent revenge can deal with. Soon, he finds himself at the contractor's mercy.

Don't hang about. Buy now!

• Language: English
• Publisher: James Field
• Release date: Jan 22, 2021
• ISBN: 9788293174745

James Field

I was born in Essex, England, in 1951.My early days of work as an engineer led me to Norway where I met my future wife Kari. She moved to England where we married and raised our two daughters. We moved back to Norway in 1985.My wife and I now live far in the north, well within the Arctic Circle, in the land of the midnight sun. Life here is slow and comfortable, blessed by unspoilt nature and its magnificent moods.Being creative in the written form gives me vast pleasure. I hope, dear reader, you will take a break from your world and lose yourself in one of mine.

Book preview

Enchanter on the Roof

Life in the Clouds series

James Field

Front cover illustration by Arijit Chakraborty

Copyright 2021 James Field

License Notes

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author, except in the case of brief quotations in critical articles of review.

*

Bert lolled in bed, wide-awake, with his eyes closed and palms resting on his heart. He often suffered from heartburn, but the agony throbbing deep inside his ribs this morning was far worse. It was a pain that no medicine other than a mortal dose of cyanide could ease.

He rolled his head and stared at the bedroom's brick wall. On the other side, only a foot away in the house next door, lived the love of his life. Olive, he whispered, and the music of her name brought a flood of moisture to his eyes. When will you be mine?

Olive was the most beautiful creature that roamed the earth. She was a make-up expert and her face was always dazzling and colourful and it took her hours to paint it on. Come to think of it, he'd never seen her without it. And from the smell of her, she bathed in perfume. Sometimes, it was so strong it made his eyes water, and made his dogs cover their noses with their paws. She wasn't timid about exhibiting her voluptuous body either.

The trouble was, even though she wore his engagement ring, she seemed more interested in other men than him. Dick Charmer, the handsome new neighbour on the other side of her house, was a typical example.

Bert shifted his back to the wall and swallowed hard, forcing the rising bile back into his knotted stomach. He knew he was no prize: hulking, grossly overweight, brutishly strong, and with a grim face that terrified the living daylights out of most people. Normally, she didn't mind his ugliness and enjoyed the attention he gave her. But if an attractive newcomer came on the scene, her rampant hormones did a u-turn.

Just then, Bert's Big Ben alarm clock chimed eight. As with every morning for the last few weeks, he caught the sound of Dick Charmer outside, whistling brightly. The dashing young contractor climbed a scaffolding ladder and padded across the roof, ready to start his day's work. Next door, he knew Olive had heard him too and that she flushed with excitement, dreaming of romance. In his mind, he could see Olive and Dick Charmer entwined in each other's arms, and the vision brought a new stab of pain to his chest.

Bert's two massive Alsatians growled and he clicked his tongue at them. Yeah, I hate the bastard too. How's about I kill him and you two eat him, bones and all, get rid of the evidence?

*

Dick Charmer swung up the scaffolding ladder like a nimble cat. He used his right hand to grasp the rungs, while his left arm steadied a ghetto blaster balanced on his shoulder. He wore super-tight cycle shorts and stretchy T-shirt. If the weather remained warm, he'd discard his T-shirt and flex his muscles for the young girls. They loved to stare at him.

Straddling the roof of Flintstone Terrace's crown, he surveyed his work. During the last three weeks, he'd re-cemented two of the three brick chimneys, and the roof tiles were now neat, clean, and whole. Early in the morning he'd collect his wages and leave.

He'd slept poorly last night, replaying his artful plan over and again. The pay for his roofing work would be no more than pocket money. His proper reward would fill his pockets with treasure. As far as he could tell, he'd made no mistakes.

He glanced at his watch, five-past-eight: time to wake folk. Some of The Stables workers were already out and about, feeding animals and grooming the horses. But most of the paying guests were still in bed or eating breakfast in a converted barn on the other side of the hamlet's river.

With the boom blaster perched on a chimney, he selected the most modern of his pop music and turned the volume to full. The bass rattled the rafters, and he swung both his hammer and his hips in time with the driving rhythm. He knew big fat Bert slept in the house below but paid no heed. If it upset him, too bad, there was no way that ugly brute could climb the ladder to clobber him.

As the sun rose higher and its warmth drew sweat from Dick Charmer's energetic labour, he tossed his T-shirt