Death Of An Ice Cream Salesman – Penelope Cress (1)

However, as is often the case, she was right. Well, about the need to employ some muscle in the team, not wrapping her fingers around my throat. An unexpected warm glow filled my chest as I parked up at the front of the Rose and Crown. Despite the daily drama, it was good to be working with Sharon. She will always be the yin to my yang.

OceanofPDF.com The Hovel Larry had opened the door to let us in. We found Ms Willow sobbing on the bottom step of the hall stairs. Barry passed her a toilet roll to dry her tears. She pulled some sheets off and dabbed at her face. The white paper turned inky-black in her hands. When she looked up, we could see why. Make-up pooled around her eye sockets and streamed down her cheeks. “Should have worn waterproof mascara.” An attempt at a grin pursed her red lips.

“Thank you for coming.” Sharon squeezed herself in on the step beside her. “It’s okay, sweetie. We’re here now. Shall we go somewhere more comfortable to talk?” Pussy shook her head. “The boys weren’t expecting visitors.” The ‘boys’ shuffled off, apologising for the mess and requesting we give them a few minutes before following them into the lounge. Sharon sat perplexed. “But they’ve had over an hour. How bad can it be?” Pussy laughed. “Oh, it’s bad.

They’re really sweet guys, but their hygiene is not the greatest.” I rested my weary upper body on the newel post while we waited. “Must have been hard for you to stay here when your flat is so immaculate.” “Why do you keep it like that? I don’t see white minimalist when I look at you. You are maximist to the nines.” Sharon cosied up to her new best friend as she spoke. “Look at you! You’re not a woman to be contained in a black-and-white prison.

You are colourful and full of life.” She lifted away a peroxide curl stuck to Pussy’s fake lash. “Hey, you’re larger than life!” “Well, the girls certainly are.” Pussy plumped up her surgically enhanced bosom. Their ability to defy gravity was impressive. “But, Honey, you’re right on the money. I have to keep it like that. I love my bedroom. Barely touch the rest of the space.” “But why? I would love to own such a beautiful apartment.

Seems a waste to confine yourself to one room.” “Oh, Sugar Cakes. That’s because I don’t own the flat. I have a friend. He lets me stay there. But he also rents it out sometimes and then I have to pack up my stuff. AirBnB it, you know. He makes so much money. I greet the guests and go back to my room. At first, I would have my stuff around the place, but it became too much of a hassle, so I only spread out on the sofa occasionally, or when I have a visitor.

Text Copyright © 2024 Penelope Cress and Steve Higgs Publisher: Greenfield Press Ltd The right of Penelope Cress and Steve Higgs to be identified as author of the Work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 All rights reserved. The book is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law.

Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly. ‘Death of an Ice Cream Salesman’ is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organisations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locations is entirely coincidental. OceanofPDF.com Table of Contents: Old Friends Blast from the Past Bleep, bleep, bleep The Golden Key Frosty Fred Good Morning Starshine Hector Mrs Harris Friends and Lovers Salad Days Gary, Barry, and Larry Adrenaline Rush Back at the Office I am George The Hovel Me, Myself, and I Maple Twist The Show Must Go On Lottie Return to Elmley Daddikins Mimosas The Witch The Man with the Dragon Tattoo Breakfast at Sharon’s Birds of a Feather The Nag’s Head Mel’s First Day Cadwalader Saint or Sinner?

Going on a Bear Hunt What’s Next for Mike? Other books by Penelope and Steve Free Books and More OceanofPDF.com Old Friends I stuffed the sympathy card into my breast pocket. I couldn’t risk that my ex-wife, Sharon, might recognise the initials ‘J. K’. scrawled within. When she recovered, of course. Right now, she was lying in a faint on the office floor. Receiving a macabre gift of an old doll with a makeshift noose around its porcelain neck was enough of a scare for one day. There was no need to add that the sender was my arch-nemesis, John Kilmer.

Sharon stirred at my feet. Her eyes blinked. She wiped a dribble of drool from the corner of her mouth. Suspicions of said Mr Kilmer would have to wait.

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.

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• Pages: 162
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