Widow's Weeds

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The elderly Volvo lurched along the frozen ruts of the unmade lane. The driver hunched tensely over the wheel, struggling to keep the car away from the deep ditches on either side. There was no standing snow, but a thick hoar frost clung to every surface. Dark clouds moved overhead. The heater whined at full strength.

The passenger in the front seat was sitting in a more relaxed way, leaning back with a laptop on his knees. He was scanning his emails, which he had picked up earlier in the day before leaving the hotel in Brighton.

The car was towing a trailer, painted with bright colours and depicting playing cards, an opera hat and cane, a magic wand, some dice and many stars. Painted in flamboyant letters on both sides, as well as the rear, were the words Oliviera – The Master of Magic.

The driver halted the car outside two high wrought-iron gates. The trailer skidded as he braked, swinging around at an angle behind the car. The passenger, the master of magic Oliviera, whose real name was Dennis O’Leary, closed the lid of the laptop and put it carefully into his overnight bag.

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