Poeme

A story of love and music transcending the barriers of time soon to be published by ThornBerry Publishing UK.

Extract:

Disjointed notes faded in and out. Gone one moment, there the next—faint strands of music drifting up from downstairs.

Blast! I’ve left the radio on. Penny Cornwall tossed the book she was reading, threw back the duvet and reached for her dressing gown draped across the bottom of the bed.

On opening the bedroom door, the music became a fraction louder. Chords rose and fell but the bars were incomplete, vague fragments of sound that lacked coherence. Head tilted, she listened for a moment before groping the wall for the light switch. The narrow stairwell flooded with harsh cold light.

As she reached the last few treads, one foot poised in mid air, the music ceased. Her heart and mood lifted. He’s back!

“Harry!” she called, hurrying down the remaining few stairstairs. “I didn’t expect you home yet. Why didn’t you ring? I’d have waited up.”

“Harry?”

No answer came. The only sound she could hear was the steady ticking of the grandfather clock by the front door.

“Harry? Harry, is that you?”

Skin prickling with fear, all thoughts transformed into the shape of someone lurking in the shadows, ready to pounce on her. Shivering against the cold sweat now trickling down her back, the silk of her nightdress clinging to her skin, a vision played out in her mind. Of Alex, her estranged husband, creeping about in the darkness. Hiding. Waiting. Ready to pounce. Choosing this night, knowing she was alone, to break in and drag her back to London. Punishment for running out on him.

“Alex? … Alex, is that you? Don’t do this to me!”

The solid oak front door shook in its frame, straining against a force trying to wrench it open. Her eyes flew first to the top bolt, then to the bottom one. Both were firmly shot.

If it isn’t Harry or Alex, then who the hell is it?

“I know you’re there, I’ve got a gun!”

Scheduled for publication early 2018

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