The Frozen Shroud by Martin Edwards

peered at her friend. ‘What have you arranged?’
    ‘God, I wouldn’t like to be a suspect you took in for questioning. No third degree, please, I’m not in the mood.’
    ‘There’s something different about you. Not just your hair colour. Which I love, by the way.’
    ‘Thanks, sweetheart. I refuse to think about all the petrochemicals that go into caring for it. As for what else has changed, you’re the detective, I’ll give you three guesses. Sorry, deductions.’
    ‘You haven’t …’
    Terri smirked. ‘I might have.’
    Well, well. So she’d finally gone for it. Those bags under Terri’s eyes, legacy of countless late nights and chip suppers, and cause of more angst than all her cellulite, wrinkles and weight issues put together, had vanished. There was still a touch of swelling, but any bruises that remained had been skilfully camouflaged. The pair of them had often debated cosmetic surgery. Hannah had no time for it, and she’d given Marc short shrift when he made the mistake of wondering aloud if implants might be worth the money. Terri was more than happy to give Mother Nature a helping hand, if only she could afford it.
    ‘How much did that cost, if you don’t mind my asking?’
    ‘My lips are sealed – and not because I’ve gone in for a trout pout!’ Terri was gleeful. ‘Honestly, I can’t imagine why I’ve waited so long. It’s not that I’m such a horribly vain old cow. Deep down, I’m shy and retiring, happy to fade into the background.’ This last was an outrageous untruth, and Hannah struggled not to gasp. ‘It’s about changing my life, and boosting morale, and the plan has worked a treat. A single day being treated like royalty in this posh private hospital, and hey presto! I look ten years younger and feel like a teenager on the pull again.’
    ‘You look fantastic. Then again, you always do.’
    Terri squeezed her hand. ‘Thanks for not scolding me, Han. I know you disapprove.’
    ‘I’d never do it myself, but everyone has to make up their own mind. Free country.’
    ‘Is it? Sometimes I wonder. But really, the surgery has made such a difference. Especially with this palaver about Stefan and everything.’
    ‘The big issue with Stefan Deyna is how to kick him out of your life.’
    Not that Hannah was necessarily well qualified to advise on dumping a troublesome ex-partner, given how hard she was finding it to ditch a second-hand bookseller who, for all his faults, was a thousand times gentler than Stefan.
    ‘Sorry I acted like a wet Kleenex when I rang you. He’s behaved like an utter shit, but everything will be fine in the long run.’
    A thought struck Hannah. ‘He didn’t … contribute to the cost of the surgeon, did he?’
    ‘No way!’ Terri squeaked in outrage. ‘What do you takeme for? As a matter of fact, he hates my new look. He thinks these changes are about making a brand new me, and for once, he’s dead right.’
    ‘Shall we order some food, if you need to get away before it’s too late?’
    Terri frowned, weighing pros and cons. ‘Actually, I’m desperate for a wee. Back in a minute.’
    If she did want to blend into the scenery, the crimson lips and talons, tight top and black micro-skirt weren’t the right way to go about it. Threading through the salivating office workers who circled the bar, she seemed not to notice the threat she posed to their blood pressure, but Hannah knew she was lapping up the attention. The blink-and-you-miss-it wiggle of the bum was the proof. Oh well, good luck to her. Terri dressed to kill not only because she loved to look great, but as her way of coping. Time after time, life knocked her over, but she never failed to dust herself down and start again.
    Hannah took a quick peek at her emails while she waited. The estate agent said someone was interested in Undercrag. Time to think about where to move next. The house was ideal when they were a couple, but too rambling and expensive for either of them to live