14 Results with the "finding Mabel" tag
1921 (1)
Admiralty Constabulary (1)
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Esotericism (1)
esoteric phenomena (1)
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Investigation (1)
Mabel Shirley (2)
Mid-20th Century (5)
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mysticism (1)
naval base security UK (1)
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The Hairy Hands of Dartmoor (1)
The Mabel Shirley Case Files (1)
Victorian (7)
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writing the supernatural (1)
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Joyce had slept well. She could not remember the last time she had slept better. Whether it was the sea air or something about this place, only time would tell. She was ready by eight and sat in the front room waiting for Mabel to collect her. By quarter past, there was still no sign of her. Joyce was beginning to wonder whether she ought to telephone when a scratching sound came from the front door. Curious, she went to investigate. She opened the door. A pure grey cat sat on the…
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25.9 K • Ongoing
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Joyce had been sitting opposite Mabel Shirley for nearly fifteen minutes and was still no closer to deciding what to make of her. The formidable Lady Hazelgrove Raymond had described had so far insisted she take another sandwich, complained about Wilkins calling her "Her Ladyship", and apologised for the state of her boots. Yet Joyce had not forgotten the first words she had spoken. Welcome home. Nor, Joyce suspected, had Mabel. The older woman appeared perfectly content to leave the matter…
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25.9 K • Ongoing
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True to his word, Raymond knocked on the door at precisely 11:45. Joyce was ready, now in a new uniform bearing the badges of the Admiralty Constabulary. It fitted perfectly, better than her old one, as though it had been made with her in mind. She chose not to question how. For now, she would take things as they came. As she opened the door, Raymond smiled. "That’s more like it. Very smart." Joyce dipped into a playful curtsy, lifting the edges of her skirt like a courtier. "Sir, you will…
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25.9 K • Ongoing
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Joyce watched as Vane's car turned the corner and began its journey back to London. She stood motionless, not from fear, but from the simple effort of processing what she had just been through. It took more than a few moments to comprehend. Her life had changed irrevocably, as though the past fifty-three years of her existence had been preparation for this one moment in time. There was no fear or trepidation, only an odd sense of belonging. That concerned her most. Why should such a feeling arise…
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25.9 K • Ongoing
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Vane let the silence settle after his last sentence. He did not blink. He did not fidget. He simply watched her over the rim of his teacup. “You won’t reach the village gates,” he said quietly, “unless you are under our protection.” Joyce did not look away. “I’ve managed thirty years without it.” “Thirty years of pickpockets and public order. This is not that.” He reached into the leather case at his side and withdrew a slim buff folder. It was unmarked. “There is a…
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25.9 K • Ongoing
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Joyce had been in her new post for three weeks, and already it felt older than the building itself. The first had been chaos, chasing files across London as divisions closed and merged under the new order. The second had been consolidation, stacking lives into steel cabinets beneath humming lights. By the third, she began to wonder whether she had stepped forward into promotion or sideways into exile. Her team, five fresh constables from Hendon, were eager and painfully green. She spent more time…
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25.9 K • Ongoing
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Joyce had tried to read the third page. Then the second. Then the first. Blank. Every one of them. It was Sunday evening, already late. She needed to get to bed, back to work in the morning. She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, easing the dull ache that had settled behind them. Seated at the bureau, she felt herself drifting, that soft pull toward sleep that came before you realised it was happening. From somewhere deep in her mind, a hushed voice called her name. “Look…
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25.9 K • Ongoing
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Joyce had returned to the bureau with tea. She set it down beside the map case and tried to recall what she had taken from the first page. The first page resisted her. She read the opening line twice and found that it did not settle. The words were ordinary enough, but they failed to hold together. She reached the end without knowing what she had read, only that something had passed through her attention without stopping. On the third attempt, she realised she had been reading for some time. Not…
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25.9 K • Ongoing
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Joyce had not meant to leave the house. She remembered sitting at the small desk beneath the window, the lamp turned low, her pen resting against the margin of a half-written page. The shop below had long since gone quiet. Even the boards seemed to have settled for the night. She had been thinking, not writing. The sea had been louder than usual, or perhaps she had only begun to notice it. Then she was standing on Blackmere Point. The wind pressed against her coat and salt lay sharp on the air.…
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25.9 K • Ongoing
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Will had brought a file with him and placed it on Arthur's desk. "I asked for some enquiries to be made about the man we met in Berlin." "The one who knew about Rosenfeld?" Arthur asked. "Yes, sir." Arthur reached for the file, but Will kept his hand on it. "I haven't finished yet." Arthur withdrew his hand and settled back into his chair. Mabel caught the look he gave the young lieutenant and suppressed a smile. Berlin had evidently done something for Will's confidence. "Professor Dr…
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25.9 K • Ongoing
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