When I saw this photo on Brian’s site,
Bushboys World, I knew I wanted to
write something. Here it is. Thanks to
Brian for the use of his wonderful photo.
The silhouettes never once glanced at each other. That was the first thing Inspector Evie Jenkins noticed when she reviewed the lobby footage. Trying too hard to appear casual, she thought. It just didn’t feel right.
In booth one, the woman had been on the line for eleven minutes. She’d arrived first, ordered a lemon squash at the bar, nursed it slowly, then drifted …. as if by idle whim …. toward the telephone alcove. Her silhouette curved elegantly against the frosted glass, one hand raised to her hair. To any observer, she was simply a woman chatting. Far too blasé.
In booth three, the man had followed four minutes later. Broad-shouldered, hat pulled low. He’d picked up the receiver before he’d even closed the door fully. Too cheeky..
They were, of course, talking to each other.
“The manager changes the safe combination every Sunday,” he murmured. “Tonight’s good; it’s still the old one.”
“And the night porter?” she queried, watching her own reflection in the glass.
“Fond of a Scotch. Very fond.”
She almost smiled. The Crown Hotel, Grafton …. timber and history and absolute trust in its own genteel reputation. Nobody robs a place this comfortable, this unhurried. That was precisely the point.
“Midnight, then,” she said.
“Midnight.”
They hung up within thirty seconds of each other. She returned to her lemon squash. He walked out through the front door without looking back.
The potted palm stood witness to everything.
It told nobody.
NAR© 2026
This is “Call Me” by Blondie
All text and graphics are copyright for Nancy Richy and are not to be used without permission. NAR©2017-present.
The Elephant's Trunk 
In 20 years, they’ve just about disappeared from the landscape.
LikeLike
They were talking to each other–darn! I didn’t pick up on that. Great story, Nancy. I like the ending. Did the potted palm have a hidden mic in it….hmmmm.
LikeLike
I have not seen a telephone booth in years.
LikeLiked by 1 person
There’s a restaurant in our village with a lovely old phone booth, very much like this one but just one booth.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Perfect, the potted palm perceived everything. All Evie has to do is shake the nuts out the palm to solve the case … and great Blondie number for me to call, but wait, I’m an astronaut, talking to Amanda!! … Oh … I’ll leave it up to Evie to solve my dilemma, Nancy … 🥰🌞🚀
LikeLiked by 1 person
Amanda is very talented …. if a bit out there! Thanks for your fab comments and another new song, dear Ivor. 🥰🌰🌴🎶
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes she’s been a fav of mine for years 🥰🎶💕
LikeLiked by 1 person
Very interesting story Nancy. B
Perhaps detective fiction is your forte.
LikeLike
Great story Nance your mind goes down wonderful untrodden tracks 🙌🩷
LikeLiked by 1 person
Lovely comment, Ange. It’s great to have friends who inspire me. Diolch!
LikeLike
A wonderful crime story. I love your turn of phrase, Nancy! 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
So pleased to know you enjoyed my story, Brenda. Thank you!
LikeLike
Brilliant Nancy. I was hoping for a I was hoping for a detective thriller, perhaps a Dirk Malone but an Inspector Evie Jenkins is just as good.
So happy my photo was of inspiration 😀
LikeLiked by 1 person
So glad I didn’t disappoint, Brian. I had great fun with this one. Keep the inspiration coming!
LikeLike
What a vivid imagination my friend, this was great! And Blondie fit to well. 🙏
LikeLiked by 1 person
What a lovely comment, dear Ernie. Thank you so much!
LikeLike