The Missing Party-Girl: A Rags-to-Riches Cozy Mystery Romance, Nhys Glover [best inspirational books .txt] 📗

By the time they got to the second floor, or third by her reckoning, Adie was breathing a little harder than she would have liked. Cage, of course, was not. But Elizabeth was panting a little, too. And Adie didn’t think it was from excitement.

So, not as fit as she’d liked handsome men to think, huh?

Adie brought her thoughts back to the issue at hand. This was not some female pissing contest. She couldn’t believe how quickly the realtor had raised her previously non-existent hackles. Maybe it was the fact that Cage should have been off-limits, given Adie’s ‘partner’ status. Yet the woman couldn’t seem to keep her interest purely professional.

Focus! They were checking out Minerva’s old stomping grounds for a reason. How else could Adie get into the head of a teenager in the 60s? Or maybe the mind of a go-go dancer trying to make it on her own after a nasty divorce that had lost her her son.

As the apartment they were here to see was a B, it was probably directly below Minerva’s, with the same outlook and layout. That would have to give her something.

But the ultra modern renovations she saw, as soon as the door was opened, gave Adie no sense of the home Minerva would have made with her fellow would-be actresses. Disappointment had her shoulders slumping.

Trying to block out the perfect, white walls and trendy furnishings in the living/dining room, Adie imagined what Minerva and her dad would have seen that first day. The room was small, especially for a place with three bedrooms, the windows not providing a lot of light, even though the spring day outside was sunny.

Cramped was the word that came to mind. Too cramped for three women forced to share the same space. And the furnishings would have been shoddy and second-hand, she was sure. No wall-sized TV or sound system. Could they have had one of those turntables for records and a radio?

The ultra-modern kitchenette led off the living room, a wall having been demolished to bench height to create the illusion of more space in the galley-style kitchen than there actually was. She imagined the wall in place and three young women stepping around each other as they prepared their meals.

Had there been a small kitchen table at one end? Possibly. Because the modern appliances probably took up a lot more space than the few items Minerva would have had. No dishwasher, for sure. No washer/drier, either. The icebox would have been ancient and the stove equally so. The massive fridge/freezer currently in residence, with an ice-maker in the door, was as far from what had been there in the 60s as you could get. And the sleek, four burner gas stove, with its modern extractor fan above, looked like it would have fitted nicely on a Sci-Fi movie set.

Adie went to the living room windows, which were double-glazed but not large, and looked out at the teeming street below. That scene wouldn’t have been so different for Minerva. The vehicles would have been different with chunky, red, double-decker buses, colorful VWs, and blocky minis with union jacks painted on their roofs. There would have been other kinds of cars, as well. She’d seen those in photos of the time as well, but she couldn’t have named them.

But the street itself would have been the same. Just as crowded. Far too crowded for Adie, but maybe not for a teenager looking for buzz and excitement in her new life.

Adie hastily backtracked to follow Elizabeth and Cage down the short hall lit by wrought-iron sconces. Four modern doors led off it, two on either side.

Elizabeth opened the first door, which turned out to be one of the bedrooms. It was a tiny home gym with mirrored doors on a built-in closet, giving the illusion of more space than there actually was. One narrow window looked out over the street.

The next room was clearly a home office, but was equally as small as the first. Adie had trouble picturing how a young woman would have found space for all her belongings in a bedroom that small. She surely couldn’t have had a bed larger than a twin. And closets back then would have been large and chunky, like the ones she was only too familiar with at the farm. One of those would have taken up almost all the space on its own. Forget a dresser. Maybe a largish nightstand beside the bed? That might have fitted.

A mirror? On the inside of the closet.

If this had been her place she would have torn out another wall to make one much larger room. But then, she would never want to live here in the first place.

On the other side of the hall was the master bedroom, which was marginally larger than the other two and held a queen-sized bed that was probably too large for the space.

The final door led into the small shared bathroom. Although it was beautifully fitted out, and managed to contain a deep bath with a rainforest shower over it, the size felt claustrophobic.

How had three women managed to negotiate one tiny bathroom, especially on nights they were getting ready to go out? A nightmare! But then, it probably added to the novelty of the situation for Minerva. Roughing it. Starting at the bottom so she could work her way up her career ladder and achieve her goals.

And she had done that, hadn’t she? Maybe she hadn’t become a famous actress, but she had become wealthy, mixing with all the rich and famous people of the time, not only here in London but all over the world. A jetsetter. That was the term, wasn’t it? She’d married well and moved up the social hierarchy using her good looks and personality.

This small flat would have been a bit of a lark to her. A