Throwback Thursday: ‘Stella Ryman and the Locked Room Mystery’ by Mel Anastasiou

On this first mid-morning in May, Mrs Stella Ryman could not deny that her amateur sleuthing had today been of a disappointingly mundane variety. At Fairmount Manor Care Home, every day was much like the last. But Stella had successfully deduced that today was a Wednesday.

She reminded herself that this was not an entirely useless deduction, for if her friends Thelma Hu, Theo Longbourne, or indeed any member of the Greek Chorus here in Corridor Park wondered what day of the week it was, Stella could clear the matter up for them without betraying their confusion to care workers or to the Director herself. She knew from personal experience how it felt to be labelled gaga, and she had suffered in spades the restrictions in personal freedom and stigma that came with it. Stella had not been allowed outside unsupervised since her arrival at Fairmount four months earlier. 

But she had escaped more than once. And gotten away with it, too. Stella smiled at the memory. But past triumphs were stale bread in the absence of anything new to sink her teeth into. 

This morning she felt edgy and far too hot for comfort. Golden warmth descended through the skylight over her chair in Corridor Park. To Stella’s right, Thelma Hu tapped her cane against the floor in rhythm with her huffing sighs, and to her left the Greek Chorus set down their pillowcase crewel work to fan themselves with their hands.