The Abbottsford Police Chronicles – # 3 by Paul Curtis (good books to read for teens .txt) 📖

until he suddenly…
“Ah ha.” He exclaimed.
He pulled off a wad of papers from the top and the removed an item and replaced the wad back on the spike.
He then replaced the spike under the counter where he found it.
“There.” He said thrusting an envelope in her direction.
“Now perhaps I can get back to work?”
“Thanks Sarge.” Pippa said rushing out the door.

She ran up the stairs and straight into the ladies toilets.
When she got inside she checked she was alone and then chose a cubicle and sat down.
She sat for what seemed like an hour, although it was only a few minutes in reality, staring at the envelope.
It was simply addressed to DC Mead.
What if it was a list of the stolen goods or a thank you for a prompt and professional response or a copy of the insurance claim or maybe a donation to the Police officers benevolent fund?
She steeled herself and ripped open the envelope.
Inside, folded in half, was a sheet of A5, expensive, notepaper.
She took a deep breath and chastised herself for behaving like a silly schoolgirl and unfolded the sheet of notepaper.
On the paper was a short hand written note in very neat style of handwriting.
And she read:

Detective Constable Mead, Phillippa.

I have to apologize for contacting you in this rather forward manner, but I have been trying to speak with you for the last few days and I have tried several times to phone you on the mobile number you provided.
This was, however, to no avail as all I managed to get was a rather rude and abusive gentleman whose comments I could not bring myself to commit to paper.
I understand from the Sergeant on reception that you are out of the office following enquiries so I am leaving this note.
I have unfortunately now been called away on family business and will out of the country for the next few weeks.
The reason I have been so anxious to contact you is that I would very much like to take you to dinner, which will now have to be on my return.
I look forward to hearing from you, and I hope very much that you will honor me with your company.

My very best regards.

Donald

At the bottom of the page, also in his very neat hand, were two phone numbers and an email address.
She was up on her feet out of the cubicle and dancing when the door opened and Jenny Hack waddled in.
Pip raced over and hugged Jenny.
“It’s good news then?” Jenny guessed.
“Yes, yes.” Was all she could manage.
“Don’t hug to tight I need a wee.”

Pippa Mead was feeling much happier with the world.
Not only had she, if belatedly, received, and read, the letter from Donald Clifford but she and Jimmy had made a major break through on the case.
She was on top of the world.
She managed to corner Jenny in reception just as she was leaving, she was with her friend Lizzie but that was the closest to being alone she had been all day so she took her chance.
“This is a little something to say thanks for your help with ... well you know what.”
Jenny beamed a tearful smile and Lizzie looked puzzled.
“Thanks Pip, that’s really sweet”

It was now three days since Pippa had received, and read, the letter and it was also three days since she had begun trying to contact him on the two phone numbers and the email address he had included in the letter.
Donald kept two mobile phones, one for business and one for private use.
When she dialed the mobile phone numbers all she got was the answer phone, so she left message after message after message.
When that failed she emailed, several times, but to no avail.
During those three days she had gone through every emotion between elation and black despair.
Doubting the evidence contained in the letter, which had led her to believe his interest in her was more than professional.
She even doubted his motives for wanting to dine with her.
The family business of which he wrote in his letter was obviously a fabrication and he was merely playing some kind of sadistic game with her.
But she played her part in the game by phoning and emailing at regular intervals.
She had even called Marcus Tyler-Moore, the Clifford family solicitor.
He told her the last time he spoke with Donald he was in transit to Australia but that had been over two weeks ago and he had heard nothing since.
Then she began to wonder if he had been killed and was that the reason nobody could reach him?
Or maybe he was lying in a coma somewhere in a filthy foreign hospital.
Then this morning she awoke early, around four o’clock, and switched on her PC to check her emails.
While the PC was booting she went to the kitchen and made herself a hot drink.
Then she wandered back to PC and sat silently as she logged on and she expected to find her mailbox empty as usual.
She was right it was empty but for two piece’s of junk mail.
One was from the financial sector wanting to loan her money and the second, as if to add insult on to injury, was an invitation to join a singles club.
Then she cursed herself for abandoning her carefree existence and allowing herself to be diverted.
She had never sought a soul mate or a life partner she had an abundance of friends with whom she had fun.
This was not fun.
What her friends must be thinking of her she could hardly imagine.
All she could do was put this past month down as a temporary aberration.
She would tell her friends she had been unwell but was much better now.
Pip reached out and picked up her address book and flicked through.
It was time to put all this love nonsense behind her, it was not for her, and now she had to get on with her life.
Finishing her tea she returned to the kitchen and poured herself another mug.
Returning to the PC she reached out to switch off.
Ping!
She had mail.
What this time, free books, Jesus saves, stripper’s r us or a lonely-hearts site.
She reached out again to hit the off switch.
But what if?
No! I’m not going there again, she thought to herself.
But what if?
No! I’ve made my decision, it’s over, and I’m cured.
She hesitated, her hand poised over the power switch.
“Shit!” She muttered as she sat down.
She opened her mailbox all the time cursing herself for weakening.
There was a new email from an address she didn’t recognize and she moved it to trash without opening it.
“Why do I do this to myself?” She said to herself walking towards the bathroom.
“Why didn’t I just trust my own judgment in the first place?”
She stopped suddenly.
“AU!” she shouted, “It ended AU.”
She ran back to the PC.
Quickly sitting down she recovered the email from the trash.
Pippa took a deep breath and opened the mail.
It was from Donald.
As she eagerly read the mail all her doubts and fears dissolved away.
Donald was indeed in Australia and he had had a series of misadventures.
Firstly he dropped his business mobile in the departure lounge at Heathrow Airport and then on arrival in Sydney he had the bag containing his laptop stolen.
But it was only when he tried to use his second mobile phone to report the theft that he realized it was also in the bag with his laptop.
So that was why Pippa had been unable to contact him.
The reason for his protracted visit was that he had been named as executor to his recently deceased Uncle’s estate and he had been attempting to settle his Uncle’s many interest’s, for example the last sixteen days had been spent on a remote sheep station.
He was now back in Sydney staying at the home of a close friend and was availing himself of his friend’s computer.
He still had a few lose ends to tie up but he was hoping to be back in England by the end of the following week.
Pippa was overjoyed.
She replied to the mail immediately and was rewarded a few minutes later with a reply of her own.
This continued for the next two hour’s until she glanced at the clock and reluctantly dragged herself away to get ready for work.

Pip spent much of a bright spring Saturday in her flat dressed in “Sloppy Joes” and glued to her computer trading emails with Donald Clifford in Australia.
The general content of their correspondence was first date stuff finding out each other’s likes and dislikes their backgrounds and their aspirations.
This was interspersed with outrageous flirtation and even a degree of lovemaking.
This was a new experience certainly for her and she hoped for him also.
She had not had Internet sex before.
It was nice.
Even so she couldn’t wait for him to come home.

A week later Pippa Mead’s slender frame trembled as she looked up at the board to see that flight BA145 from Sydney had landed.

She had arrived at the airport two hours before the flight was due and then the flight was delayed a further ninety minutes.
She had spent a sleepless night and even spending two hours getting ready hadn’t eaten into the time as much as she thought it would so she decided she might as well waist the time at the airport rather than at home.
Big mistake.
She had thought that there would be more distractions at a busy international airport and the time would not hang so heavy.
The problem with this theory was that almost everywhere you look at an airport you find a clock or time display.
She had bought magazines, she tried reading a book, and she drank endless cups of coffee and made endless visits to the toilets.
Pippa felt as thought she had been at the damned airport for days.
Now the plane had landed and she was trembling.
Pippa turned on her heels and rushed to the nearest toilets.
After emptying her bladder for the umpteenth time she stood in front of the mirror and surveyed her reflection.
She was, by her own admission, a rather stick thin plain looking girl with, two redeeming features, the most stunning eyes and good legs.
As she stood before the mirror she combed her straight shoulder length blonde hair and then touched up her makeup.
She had discarded her normally masculine looking clothes, which led many people to suppose her to be a lesbian.
Instead she wore a short floral dress, showing off her legs, she liked her legs.
She turned side on to admire herself in the mirror then she stood on her tiptoes to get a better look at her legs, she nodded to her self, shame I don’t have a bum though she thought to her self.
Having viewed herself from every possible angle she gave herself a quick spray of perfume and put her things away in her bag.
Stopping briefly for one last look in the mirror she said out loud.
“I scrub up very nicely.”
Then she nodded and made her way back to the arrival hall.

As Pippa reached the arrival gate the first of the passengers were beginning to dribble through.
Then as more and more streamed through the gate she began to panic what if he doesn’t recognize me now I’m not dressed like a lesbian, what if I don’t recognize him.
When she