The Blue Angel

Dear Reader, I am sorry to not be able to bring you Chapter 9 of ‘The Blue Angel’ as planned this week. In truth, I am over-stretched with the amount of online content I am currently creating and to continue with the story in this way would be to jeopardise its...

The Blue Angel, Chapter 8

Clara followed Quentin and Betty down the corridor towards the double doors leading to the auditorium, where the rest of the company were waiting. She hung back from the pair, lost in her own thoughts over what Betty had just revealed. Clara could not remember any...

The Blue Angel, Chapter 7

Inspector Peebley had no chin. Or, to be more precise, Clara could see no differentiation between the man’s neck and head. He had been talking – droning, really – for some time now, and it was all Clara could do not to yawn in his face. “We shall have to wait for the...

The Blue Angel, Chapter 6

Clara stood in the doorway of the main dressing room, staring down at the girl lying on the centre of the floor. A sea of voices, as if underwater, floated around her vying for attention, and yet she did not have space for anything but the girl. “Poor Ruthie. Still so...

The Blue Angel, Chapter 5

Clara was sweating. This was most definitely sweat. Rivulets of moisture cascaded down her arms and back, aided by the ludicrously inappropriate travelling clothes she was still wearing. Growing up, her mother had always told her that ladies did not sweat, they...

The Blue Angel, Chapter 4

With Betty dispatched to search for ‘bubbly wine’, Treadwell began fussing about looking for glasses in the adjoining room, whilst Clara took the opportunity to take in her surroundings more clearly. Faded posters of a younger Quentin Treadwell peeled away from the...