The Oysters Cave E-Book

Alessia Oliveri

• Herausgeber: Youcanprint
• Kategorie: Krimi
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

In Tenby, a popular holiday resort in Wales, freelance journalist Sarah Brighton investigates the discovery of the skeleton of a young woman whose death dates back forty years. With the help of Nora Taylor, owner of a nostalgic local hotel, and the fisherman Marcus Davon, the journalist tries to reconstruct the main events of the time, focusing on a mysterious plane crash in which pilot Harry Holton lost his life in the late 1950s.

Leseprobe

Indice

PART ONE

I

II

III

IV

V

VI

VII

VIII

IX

X

PART TWO

XI

XII

XIII

EPILOGUE

Alessia Oliveri

The Oysters Cave

Titolo | The Oysters Cave

Autore | Alessia Oliveri

Immagine di copertina: www.unsplash.com

ISBN | 9791221417159

© 2022 - Tutti i diritti riservati all’Autore

Questa opera è pubblicata direttamente dall'Autore tramite la piattaforma di selfpublishing Youcanprint e l'Autore detiene ogni diritto della stessa in maniera esclusiva. Nessuna parte di questo libro può essere pertanto riprodotta senza il preventivo assenso dell'Autore.

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I escape what follows me.

What escapes me I chase.

HORATIO

PART ONE

The call of a seagull ripped through the silence of the night.

“Aunty Lauren! I heard that woman screaming out there again.” In Nora’s dream as a child, the green shutters of the bedroom slammed in unison with the waves of the sea.

I

Tenby, May 16th, 1998

I went to the reception with my mother’s surname clearly spelled out. She had taught me this when I was a child, fearing that fate might separate us and inflict on us a punishment far crueler than the one that had come upon us.

A man in his sixties filled out a form with my details before handing me the key and waving me down the hall. He smelled of salt, and his appearance resembled a captain in a commercial. I fixed my backpack on my shoulder, picked up my suitcase, and set off in the direction that he had indicated.

The rooms, complete with small private gardens, were all on the ground floor. On the doors were plaques carved from old wooden boards, on which the names of seabirds had been painted. My key, key number nine, corresponded to the White Cormorant. I opened the door and found myself in a far more welcoming place than the cramped suburban rooms that the editorial office usually reserved for me.

The Seagull Inn, with its large flashing light sign, was located a few metres from the waves breaking on the rocks. It was set in the renowned Carmarthen Bay, a natural shelter for thousands of small boats, and was accessible on foot via a path from the harbour. It was a building typical to the style of Tenby, simple but with attention to every detail, where the pastel colours of the local architecture stood out in direct contrast with the blue of the sea.

That afternoon, after waiting for the boat to finish its docking manoeuvres, I walked down the narrow gangway attached to the pier. A sign carved in wood carried an image of St David and the name of the town in Welsh, Dinbych-y-Pysgod. Ahead of me, the great hill framed the village like a postcard.