Deadly Start by Clark Nefri (summer beach reads .txt) 📕

in all. Each was a work of art as if created just for the recipient. And so individual. One was a white Christmas scene with a little town, another a beach Christmas. The card used was thick and of quality.

Why would her mother keep these, when she didn’t do anything for Christmas? No presents or cards for her own family or anyone else. No dinner or decorations. No leaving stockings out for Santa. It wasn’t that Angelica disliked Christmas, but as with every celebration she simply couldn’t be bothered. Something about these cards meant something to her.

Charlotte opened the one on top. The handwriting was beautiful.

Merry Christmas, sweetie. You are loved. Z.

She frowned. ‘Z’ didn’t tell her anything, and who was ‘sweetie’? One by one she opened each card. The greeting was the same in each. Going through them again, she noticed a year written on the bottom right corner. After putting them in order, she read from oldest to newest.

Nothing was familiar. The years were those from her second to eleventh birthdays. Without envelopes or further details there was no way of knowing who the sender, or the recipient was. Most likely this was a friend of her mother’s who’d now lost contact. Except, Charlotte could not remember her mother ever having a friend. Or even talking about a past friend. So, what was the story with these beautiful cards?

“It sounds as though your lunch was delicious, Mum.” Charlotte listened to Angelica chatter about the Christmas Day lunch at Lakeview Care. Maggie had been thrilled to hear Charlotte’s voice and promised to keep an eye on Angelica during their conversation, as she was prone to reacting badly to goodbyes.

“Best of all was having Daddy there.”

Charlotte pulled her legs up under herself on the sofa. “Okay, Mum. That’s nice.”

Dad was so long gone it surprised Charlotte her mother remembered him. But sometimes Angelica’s memory was razor sharp.

“Mum, can I ask a question?”

“Of course, but I’m not allowed to give away the recipe for the Christmas cake.”

That made Charlotte smile. “Darn. I was hoping you could, but secrets are important to keep. I found some rather lovely Christmas cards but don’t know who sent them.”

“I have a Christmas card. It’s from you.”

“Yes, it is. I thought you’d like the kookaburra wearing the Christmas scarf.”

“He’s very cute.”

“These are older cards, Mum. There’s nine of them and they are really beautiful. Inside, each one says, ‘Merry Christmas, sweetie—”

“You are loved. Z.”

Charlotte’s jaw dropped her mouth. That was one of her razor-sharp memory moments in action. “Wow wish I had such a great memory! So, who is ‘Z’?”

Angelica laughed. “Stop teasing me. You know who.”

“Must have forgotten. Can you remind me?”

There was a long silence. Charlotte knew she’d lost the moment. “Mummy?”

“I don’t want to be here, Charlotte. Can you find Daddy and get him to pick me up. Now, please.”

As her mother’s voice rose, Charlotte heard Maggie in the background making soothing noises and then a minute later, she’d taken the phone from Angelica.

“Sorry, Doctor Dean, I think it might be time to take your mother for a nap.”

“Thanks, Maggie. Tell her I love her and thank you for everything you do.”

It was always the same now. Moments of clarity before the plunge back through time believing Charlotte was little and Dad was still there. Coupled with her other mental diseases and a lifetime of next to no treatments, Angelica’s life had been empty of happiness.

“Not for you and not for me, Mum.”

And unless Charlotte knew she wouldn’t go down the same path, she wasn’t about to bring another person into her life, only to destroy theirs.

“Those look delicious, darling. Thank you!” Rosie’s smile lit the room, which was pretty enough already. The table was set outside and looked amazing. No food was out there yet, but candles nestled amongst flowers, and the setting of red and gold was so traditional Charlotte wanted to take a photo.

The delectable aromas from the kitchen made Charlotte’s stomach rumble, and both cats sat on the back of the sofa staring into the kitchen. She set the salads down on the counter. “What can I do to help?”

“Pour us both a pre-dinner drink, if you will.”

“Anything in particular?”

“You choose.”

As Charlotte arranged drinks, Rosie went outside to check the table. “It looks wonderful.” Charlotte brought her drink out. “To Christmas.”

They clinked glasses and sipped.

“So, four places set?”

“Oh, one never knows who might need a meal. I always set an extra one.” Rosie grinned, put her glass into the cup holder on her wheelchair, and went inside. “Wasn’t last night wonderful? Apart from the dangerous stuff, but we will discuss that a little later.”

Great.

“I think the Forests know they are welcome.” Charlotte said.

“It certainly has shown a lot of people for who they truly are. I have to say, I am impressed by Glenys. Which reminds me. She phoned before to say Darren claims Veronica is involved. Trying to drum up her own tree sales.”

“You don’t believe him.”

“It seems like a risky proposition just for a few sales.” Rosie shook her head. “But this isn’t our call. At least now there has to be an investigation.”

“If Sid doesn’t botch things.” Charlotte sat on her usual chair and Mellow made a beeline for her lap just as there was a knock on the door. Rosie headed down the hallway and opened the door. “Oh, sweetheart, you made it!”

“Mum, you look wonderful.”

He’s here. This was a bad idea.

Charlotte made a big deal out of stroking Mellow’s soft fur as footsteps approached. The last time she’d seen Trev was the day she left River’s End to move here, so only a few weeks. Hardly any time. It wasn’t as though they had anything going on. So why was her heartrate through the roof?

“Hey, Charlie.”

And there he was, towering over Rosie in her wheelchair in T-shirt and jeans that as always showed off how fit he was. And his smile. And those eyes. Kind. And twinkling.

“Oh, Trevor. Hi.”

Yeah, that