47 Bodymoor Street

By A Law Hazel

Arthur and Elizabeth, acclaimed archaeologists, were well-known during the late sixties and early seventies for their research in Egyptian archaeology. Their work in Egypt and neighboring countries and bringing their findings back to England were subsequently revered and adored within their social circle. But all was not as it seemed between them, with a disturbing history which would eventually tear them apart.

The book is both riveting and exciting with lots of twists, turns, and even humor, which will keep you engaged to the bitter end.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Oct 19, 2016
• ISBN: 9781524664152

A Law Hazel

Alex lives in a rural environment where she indulges her passion for writing, gardening, and painting. She enjoys observing the habits and ways of the birds and the different species of wildlife that nightly make their way to her beautiful garden for supper, which has become a tranquil haven for all.

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© 2016 A Law Hazel. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 10/18/2016

ISBN: 978-1-5246-6416-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5246-6415-2 (e)

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Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

CHAPTER 1

Bodymoor Street is a straight street, stretching without a bend or curve from the corner of Wellsdown Place to the junction of Montea Avenue. The road was lined on either side with tall Aspen trees interspersed now and then with Beech or Lime. The street was renowned for its affluence, the inhabitants being mainly retired professionals, reparatory theatre players and eccentrics.

It did not matter what time of day you walked, drove or rode down Bodymoor Street, it was always quiet, always calm, as though embraced in a sinister spell of contrived silence. Most of the houses were large, early Victorian and were enclosed by high walls or Leylandi hedging, so that people passing by rarely caught a glimpse of the houses or gardens. A sighting of the occupants was rarer still. Occasionally, if you happened to be walking, you might discern the faint whine of a lawnmower being pushed across a lawn, or the snip, snip of the shears beyond the hedging, but as soon as you drew level with the sound it ceased and continued only after you had passed the property boundary.

There were no gaps in the walls or hedging through which you might peer. No one ever left the gates open. Perhaps they were all paranoid about their privacy, or fearful of being robbed. It was a strange place or rather, street. During the spring and summer I walked along it at least once a week, always hoping that I might catch a glimpse of someone’s garden. I have a passion for gardens. I’m an apprentice gardener you see, assistant to the head gardener at Valena House and I’m always susceptible to new ideas. You can derive as much information about people from their gardens as you can by the kind of books they read, and I’m naturally inquisitive. My chance to see a Bodymoor Street garden came to fruition a week ago last Saturday. It was all thanks to my friend Pete, who was at home sick with a throat infection.