Guided Sleep Meditation & Sleep Hypnosis from Sleep Cove - The Stolen Santa Suit - An Original Sophie Meadows Sleep Story Mystery

Episode Date: December 14, 2025

We’ve created an original mystery character called Sophie Meadows, who lives in the village of Sleep Cove! She is a retired schoolteacher who solves mysteries in the town and notices what is going on.  We were due to launch this on Mysteries at midnight next year, but for Christmas, we have done a couple of special episodes where Sophie solves festive mysteries. In this story a Santa Suit goes missing, can Sophie solve this case? Please let us know in the comments what you thought of the story. We really want to know if you like them and want to hear more. Here is the story without music - Here Mysteries at Midnight is - Here Let me set the scene: Nestled on the coast of England lies the picturesque village of Sleep Cove. With its quaint harbour and winding streets lined with charming shops and cosy cottages, the village is a tranquil haven, where people greet each other with warm smiles and cheerful hellos.   Perched on a small hill overlooking the beach stands a row of thatched cottages. Sophie Meadows, a recently retired schoolteacher, resides in one of these cottages. She delights in nothing more than settling down with an enthralling mystery novel. Unbeknownst to Sophie, she will soon find herself solving mysteries in her beloved village of Sleep Cove.   This is Sophie’s first mystery. Her day begins like any other, but a surprising turn of events takes it in an unexpected direction. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

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please go to sleepcove.com slash support. That's sleepcove.com slash support. If you can't support the show right now, please subscribe with a bell to get alerts on all new free content Thank you Have you ever gazed in wonder at the Great Pyramid Have you marvelled at the golden face of Tudankhamun

Or admired the delicate features of Queen Nefertiti If you have, you'll probably like the History of Egypt podcast Every week we explore tales of this ancient culture The history of Egypt is available wherever you get your podcasting fix. Come, let me introduce you to the world of ancient Egypt. Hi, it's Christopher here, and we have something special for you. We've created an original mystery character called Sophie Meadows, who lives in the village of Sleak Cave. She's a retired school teacher who solves mysteries, and notices

things that are going on. We were due to launch this on Mysteries at Midnight next year, but for Christmas we've done two special episodes where Sophie solves a couple of festive mysteries. In this story, a Santa suit goes missing. Can Sophie solve the case? Please let us know in the comments what you thought of the story. we really want to know if you like them and want to hear more.

If you want to hear the story without music, I'll leave the link in the description and the top pinned comment. Let me set the scene and then let's begin. Nestled on the coast of England lies the picturesque village of Sleep Cove, with its quaint harbour and winding streets, lined with charming shops and cozy cottages. The village is a tranquil haven

where people greet each other with warm smiles and cheerful hallows. Perched on a small hill, overlooking the meech, stands a row of thatched cottages. Sophie Meadows, a retired school teacher, resides in one of these cottages. She delights in nothing more

than settling down with an enthralling mystery novel. And benotes to Sophie, she will soon find herself solving mysteries in her beloved village of Stink Cave. This is Sophie's first mystery. Her day begins like any other, but a surprising turn of events takes it in an unexpected direction.

A Sophie Meadows mystery in the village of Sleep Cove. The stolen Santa suit. It was two weeks before Christmas in Sleep Cove Village and inside Lavender Cottage, Sophie Meadows placed the last few decorations around her living room. She stood back to admire her work.

The tree twinkled with sparkling, ornaments and glittering gardens of tinsel. Christmas cards were arranged neatly along the mantelpiece. Sophie picked up a few of the ones that had arrived earlier that morning. There were cards from former colleagues at the primary school where she had worked for decades as a teacher. There were even some from adults whom she had taught at the school. She still thought them as children, even though now they had families of their own. She smiled at the kind messages. Sophie felt a soft wave of contentment.

She loved Christmas, and all things festive, sounded at the door. Sophie opened it to find her neighbour, Anne Reynolds, standing there with a flustered expression. As well as being neighbours, Sophie had been good friends with Anne and her husband John for many years. Sophie opened the door wider and invited an inside. I wish I could, Anne said, but I can't stay. I've got a million things to do. Sophie smiled. Have you volunteered for too many Christmas events again?

I have, Anna replied with a weary smile. I've promised to help with far more than I should, but I'll sort it out. Would you be able to do me a favour? It's John's Santa suit. I completely forgot it, was at the day. dry cleaners. He needs it for the primary school Christmas party tomorrow and then he's got all the usual village events after that. Could you pick it up for me please? I'd go myself, but I'm busy for the rest of the day. Of course I will, Sophie said at once. I'll collect it

right away. Let out a relieved breath. Thank you, Sophie. I don't know what I'd do without you. Let me give you the ticket. The cleaning has already been painful. She handed the ticket to Sophie, then said goodbye and hurried off down the path. Sophie closed the door and put the ticket into her bag. She wasn't sure what time the dry queen is closed, so she thought it best to go there now. She put on a coat, then wrapped a soft scarf around her neck. With her handbag over her shoulder, she left her home and headed into the village, pulling on her gloves as she went. The afternoon air was crisp and the salty scent of the sea drifted along the lane.

Most of the cottages were decorated for Christmas and their windows looked festive and cheerful. As she walked, her thoughts drifted to Anne's husband John. He played Santa for as long as Sophie could remember. He always made their children love, and he had a special way of listening to them as if each child were the most important person in the world. Even the shy ones warmed to him. Sleepcove's Christmas wouldn't be the same without John playing Santa. Sophie reached the Venage Square,

taking an appreciative look at the beautiful Christmas tree where everyone would gather for carols on Christmas Eve. She walked toward the dry cleaners. She was pleased to see it was open and that there were no other customers inside. She could collect the suit quickly and then perhaps enjoy a short walk around the village. before the early winter light feigned.

She pushed open the door and the small bell above it chimed gently as she stepped inside. She smiled at the young man behind the counter. He smiled back. She'd never seen him before. He must be new.

Hello, Sophie said. I'm here to collect an item for Anne Ranam. I've got the ticket. She gave the small paper ticket to him. The man looked at the ticket and said, but it's already been connected. I gave it to a man about an hour ago,

and he said he was Anne's assistant, and she'd asked him to pick the item up on her behalf. Sorry, Sophie said, are you sure we're talking about the same item? It's a Santa suit that I'm here to collect, a red velvet jacket and matching trousers trimmed with white fur. The man nodded, that's the one. But Anne doesn't have an assistant.

Sophie couldn't make sense of what was happening. If Anne had taken on an assistant to help with her busy Christmas commitments, she would certainly have mentioned it, and she would have never have asked Sophie to get out the suit in that case. The man answered. He said he was her assistant and he was so genuine that I didn't have a reason to doubt him. Did he have the ticket? Sophie asked. The young man wince slightly. Um, no. He said Anne had misplaced it.

He said the suit was needed for the school party tomorrow. And he kept saying how important it was. He looked so upset that I felt sorry for him. I know we're not supposed to hand over items without a ticket. But he's seen. seemed so trustworthy. Now I'm worried I've made a mistake. Could you tell me what he looked like? Sophie asked. Yes, the man answered. He was an older man. He was wearing a long, black coat and a bright red scarf. And he had a Welsh accent, quite a strong one. He seemed

friendly enough. When I gave him the suit, he put it inside a large tartan patterned bag that he brought with him. Sophie frowned. This doesn't make any sense. Why would a strange man take John's Santa suit? The man shrugged. I don't know. I really am sorry. I thought he was telling me the truth. Should I phone the police? Sophie shook her head. No need to get them involved. Not yet. I'll do my best to track down this stranger and see where he took the suit. I'll let you know how I get on. The young man gave her a grateful smile. Sophie left the shop and walked away and lost in thought. Who would steal a Santa suit and why?

She didn't know, but she was determined to find out. Now where would she start looking for this mystery man? He had already visited the dry cleaners. Perhaps he had stopped at one of the nearby shops as well. It seemed worth checking. Her attention went to Sleep Cove Crafts and Souvenirs, a cheerful little shop that always displayed something colourful in the window. And it being the festive season, it was always popular with customers. Perhaps the man had visited the shop to buy some Christmas gifts or decorations.

She had hoped he hadn't used his dishonest ways inside the same. the shop, as he had done with the dry cleaners. Sophie walked towards the crafts and souvenir shop and went inside. A warm burst of centred air greeted her, filled with hints of pine, vanilla and cranberry. The shop was busy, with several customers, examining ornaments and handmade decorations. People were lined up on the counter waiting to be served. Sophie strolled between the shelves, giving Cassandra the young woman behind the counter time to finish serving.

The displays in the shop were arranged with care. There were carved wooden ornaments, knitted scars in soft winter colours, and a selection of local crafts arranged neatly on a table. Sophie Palls in front of a stand filled with small fridge magnets that showed local landmarks. One featured the Sleep Cove Lighthouse

in bright cheerful colours. Another showed the curved beach where Sophie often walked in the mornings. There was even one of the village square at night, the windows of buildings glowing softly beneath a sprinkle of painted stars. The familiar charm of the shop settled her thoughts a little. She wandered further, admiring a row of hand-painted mugs or keeping an eye on the counter. After a few minutes, the close. of customers drifted out and the counter became free. Sophie walked over and Cassandra greeted her with a bright smile. Hello Sophie. Are you doing a bit of Christmas shopping? Not today, Sophie replied.

I wanted to ask you if you saw a certain someone earlier, a man with a long black coat and a red scarf. He might have been carrying a large tartan pattern bag. He had a strong Welsh accent. Cassandra's smile faded into a look of concern. Why are you asking? Has he done something wrong? No, nothing like that, Sophie assured her, not wanting to go into the real reason behind her question. He's just someone I need to talk to. Cassandra relaxed. Okay, yes he was in earlier today. He bought a couple of scented candles, pine and cranberry, I think. He was very chatty when he came up to pay, a nice chap. He was wearing a black coat and a red scarf, as he described and he had a large bag with him, but he didn't have a Welsh accent. It was most

definitely American. Really, Sophie said, if you don't mind me asking, what did he talk about? Cassandra replied, he told me he had only just moved to Snoop Cove and he bought one of those old cottages near the harbour. He wanted to fill his new home with festive sets and thought the candles would be perfect for that. Sophie nodded thoughtfully. Did he give you his name by any chance? I'm afraid not, Cassandra said, but he did ask where he could get some keys cut as he had some friends coming from London soon, and he needed extra keys for them. I told him about Max's place, and he said he'd go there next. That's very helpful, Sophie said, thank you.

Cassandra's expression softened. I hope everything's all right. Everything's fine, Sophie said with a warm smile, absolutely fine. Sophie stepped back into the square. The crisp air met her again, carrying the distant sound of girls over the sea. She headed towards a narrow lane just off the square. There was only one key-cotting shop in the village,

and it was halfway along the lane, tucked between the bakery and a shop that sold household, bits and pieces. Its sign, painted in cheerful navy blue, red keys, heels and watch repairs. As she approached, she glanced at her watch. Her late husband, George, had given her the watch on their first wedding anniversary. The leather strap had been replaced several times and the battery many more times, but the watch itself had never failed her. She touched the face of it lightly, feeling affection for the memory it carried. Sophie entered the shop, which was run by a lovely chap called Max.

inside a row of keys hung neatly on a board behind the counter. Each one are labelled in Max's careful handwriting. Max himself stood polishing a pair of shoes, but he looked up with a bright smile as Sophie entered. Hello there, he said, do you need a battery or some new straps this time? Neither today, Sophia replied. I wanted to ask you about someone and if you've seen him today.

I was told he might have called in. He's someone I need to speak to, nothing to worry about. She gave a description of the mystery man and added that he could either have a Welsh accent or an American one. Max set the shoes aside and nodded Yes, I remember him He came in but he didn't have a Welsh Or American accent He had an Irish one

Sophie tried to hide her surprise Another accent to add to the growing list He said he had friends Visiting from London over Christmas Max continued. He needed extra keys so they could come and go while they were here.

He mentioned that they'd be joining him after their final performance. Although he didn't say what kind of performance that was and I didn't ask. Final performance? Sophie repeated.

That makes me think of actors, musicians, or some kind of other performers. Did he tell you anything else? Did he tell you his name? Max replied, no. We chatted a while as I cut the keys, but only about Sleep Cave and the events we have over Christmas.

Do you know where he went after he left you? Sophie asked. Max nodded. He asked, where he could find the best hot chocolate in Sleep Cove. I hope you told him Emma's Cafe, Sophie said with a smile, I've had many cups of her hot chocolate

and can confirm is the best for miles around. I agree, Max said. And that's what I told this chap, who you're looking for. I don't suppose you want to tell me why you're looking for him. I'd rather not if you don't mind, Sophie answered. I'll head over to the cafe now and see if he's still there.

Thanks for your help Max. Max smiled. Always happy to help. I hope you find them. Sophie left and turned towards Emma's cafe. She hurried along, hoping she would be lucky enough to find them. the mystery man, but even if he weren't there, she would treat herself to a hot chocolate to keep her energy levels up. Emma's cafe was busy when Sophie went inside. The pleasant

hum of conversation floated through the air and the warm scent of baked goods mingled with a comforting aroma of freshly made coffee and hot chocolate. A few people were gathered near the counter where others sat at small tables, decorated with sprigs of honey. A quick glance around told her the man she was seeking wasn't there. Sophie found an empty seat by the window and settled into it. From there she could see the village square, giving her a good chance of spotting the man if he happened to walk past. Emma came over to her table a few moments later. Her familiar smile, bright despite the rush.

Hi Sophie. Are you doing some shopping today? Not today, Sophie replied, I wanted to ask you something. She asked the same question she'd asked Cassandra and Max and gave the same description.

This time, she added three different accents that the man had used. Emma nodded at once. Yes, he was here, His accent wasn't any of those you mentioned. It wasn't Welsh or American or Irish. He sounded Scottish to me.

He asked for a hot chocolate. He seemed friendly and we talked for a few minutes. He asked, Will the people of Sleepcove were like? I told him, everyone was friendly and that he would feel very welcome here. Emma paused and looked thoughtful. Sophie noticed and asked if there was something among the man that concerned her.

Emma said, When I said how friendly everyone was, he looked at that tartan bag of his and his smile faded. Only for a moment, but I noticed it. He looked so sad for some reason, but then he was all smiles again. He brought his drink over and he seemed to enjoy it. But I could see that sad look on his face had returned. Once he finished his drink, he paid for it and left.

Do you know where he went next? Sophie asked. Emma shook her head. No, I didn't. I was too busy at the counter to see which way you went. Is he a friend of your, Sophie? Not really, she replied, but I would like to talk to him. Now, could I order one of your delicious hot chocolates with a whipped cream on the top, please?

I'll bring it right over. Sophie kept a watchful eye on the village square, ready to leap into action if needed. Although, if the man were to appear, she would like him to do so after she finished her drink. A few minutes later, Emma returned with a tall mug of hot chocolate topped with a generous swell of whipped cream. Sophie thanked her and then wrapped her hands around the warm cup and continued looking out of the window. where the village square was full of festive charm Fairy lights were wrapped neatly around the trees and small decorations hung from the shop windows

A few people walked by wearing brightly coloured hats and scars She took a sip of her drink It was warm and rich Exactly what she needed As she sat there, she went through the facts she'd gathered about the mysterious man, the stone and Santa suit, changing accents, the keys for friends from London, and the mention of a final performance. He said he lived in one of those old cottages by the harbour,

so perhaps she would go there next and ask around. see if anyone knew him. She could also knock on the doors of every one of those cottages, and she would do that if needed. She would find that Santa suit for John, no matter how long it took. Of course, there was the possibility that the man didn't live in Sleep Cove at all. He could have been fabricating lies to cover his tracks.

Sophie sighed. She hoped that wasn't the case. Sophie finished her drink, walked over to the counter to pay for it, and so goodbye to Emma. She left the wharf of the cafe and went back in the chill December air again. As she walked along, she passed the dry cleaners and noticed the lights were off and the sign on the door had been turned to closed. Must be an early closing day. She hoped the young man, whom she talked to earlier, wasn't still feeling bad. Sophie headed towards the harbour and the old cottages,

pulling her coat a little closer as a cool breeze swept up from the water. She tried to make sense of everything she had loved. who would take someone else's sent a suit. The thought troubled her. It was such an odd thing to steal. Perhaps the man intended to sell it. Or perhaps he held some sort of grudge against Anne or John. That seemed unlikely as they were such lovely people.

Then another idea formed. What if he disliked Christmas and he wanted to prevent the festivities from going ahead? If that was the case, then what else might this person get up to? Her mind whirled with other possibilities. What if the mystery man intended to wear the Santa costume and performed somewhere else outside of Sleep Cove? But who would do that? she suddenly stopped walking

the general thoughts in her mind began to make sense of course the mention of the man's friends arriving from London after their final performance now felt far more important than she had first realised

a performance could mean actors a theatre a show of some sort. Maybe this man was an actor as well, and he really was going to wear the suit in a performance of his own. It was the only reason that made sense to her.

She continued walking, intending to head straight for the old row of cottages near the water, but someone caught her eye. A man sat alone on a bench facing the sea. He wore a long black coat and a red scarf and a large tartan patterned bag rested on the ground beside his feet.

She approached him slowly, not wanting him to see her and perhaps make a break for it. She really wasn't in the mood for chasing someone through the streets of Sleam Cove. The closer she got, the more she noticed, the kindness in the man's features. His face was lined in a way that suggested both laughter and experience. His grey hair brushed neatly back, lifted slightly in the breeze. His eyes held a thoughtful, far away.

look, and his gloved hands rested in his lap. Sophie stopped beside the bench. May I sit with you? She asked softly. He turned to her, surprised but not displeased. Yes, of course, he replied. His voice was English, perfectly clear and precise. It carried in gentle resonance. And Sophie thought it was the sort of voice that could hold the attention of an audience without effort. Sophie sat beside him and said, I'd be looking for you. His eyebrows lifted slightly. Looking for me?

Whatever for? Sophie explained. My neighbour Anne asked me to pick up her husband's centre suit from, the dry cleaners earlier. When I arrived, I was told someone else had collected it. I'd been trying to find out who that was. The man shifted slightly. His expression tightened with discomfort, though he remained silent. So if he watched him for a moment, then asked gently. Are you an actor? Perhaps a retired one? His surprise showed clearly. Yes I am, he said. How did you work that out? Are you a detective? Sophie laughed lightly. Not at all.

I've read a lot of mystery novels and always tried to solve them before the ending. I noticed small things. During my search for you, I've discovered that you used several different accents around the village today, and you mentioned friends arriving from London after their final performance. It made sense once I thought about it, and you have a wonderful voice, one that would carry beautifully across a packed theatre. At this, the man's expression softened into a modest smile. As kind of you to say so, I must apologise, profusely, for the merry dance I must have led you as you sought me out. He held out a gloved hand.

Before I proceed with an explanation of why I've committed such a terrible crime, let me introduce myself. I'm Fenton Fontein. formerly of London, and an actor, for more years than I care to remember. Sophie introduced herself, and they shook hands. She knew it was best to let him continue talking, to confess, as it were. Sophie, he began, you are absolutely correct. My friends are presently in the West End, bringing a Christmas mystery to us. life upon the stage. A delightful production, if I may say so.

Full of intrigued and timed snowfall. I have missed them terribly and simply cannot wait to hear about their latest production and how it was received. With a slow, almost ceremonial movement, he lifted the bag from the ground. He held it out as if presenting a prompt. from a climatic scene. Inside is the Santa suit, he said. His voice filled with regret, a symbol of my foolishness. I have never ever committed a crime in my life.

Shame has been my companion all afternoon. So if he placed the bag beside her and studied him, she asked. Did you retire quite recently? Are you missing acting? Fenton sighed heavily. You are very astute. Yes, I miss acting very much.

I knew it was time to move aside and let the younger actors take my place. That's how the acting world is. One of my favourite aspects of performing was appearing a centre for the local schools during the festive season, I threw myself into the character and enjoyed it immensely

and, oh, the joy on the children's faces, I cherished every moment. He pressed a hand to his heart and smiled softly out of the treasured memories. I was in the dry cleaners last week, he continued, I saw your friend Anne drop off the Santa suit.

She spoke with a woman behind the counter about her husband John and how he loved playing Santa every year. I must converse that a terrible feeling of envy swept through me. I'm so ashamed to admit that

and I pushed the feeling aside without delay before it could take hold of me. When I called into the cleaners to collect my items earlier today. I saw the suit hanging and cleaned behind the counter. Temptation seized me. I remember Dan's name. I always remember names. A gift from the theatre. I told myself that if the suit went missing, perhaps I could step in with my own costume and save the day.

You see, I've brought my centre costume from London, as well as many other costumes from my time in the theatre. The thought of performing one more time overrode any sensible thoughts, and before I knew it, I made up a tale about collecting the suit on Anne's behalf, and then I was walking out of the dry cleaners, with a suit in my bag. I left my own cleaning behind to collect later if I can ever show my face in there again of course he fell silent and gazed out at the sea Sophie asked what happened

Fenton carried on once I left the dry cleaners I proceeded with some other errands and tried to ignore what I've done but everything soon changed Every person I met was warm, friendly and sincere. I feel the weight of what I had done growing heavier with each conversation. I hurried back to return the suit, but the dry cleaners had already closed.

Sophie nodded gently. Yes, I saw that too. Can I ask, why do you use the different accents? He lifted one hand in a small flourish. That is the actor in me, refusing to go quietly. I just couldn't help myself, Sophie. Would you be kind enough to take me to Anne's house? I must apologise to her.

I would not have a peaceful night until I do so. Sophie saw the sincerity in him. Anne is out for the day, but I'll speak to her later. to explain everything. I'm sure she'll understand. Fenton bowed his head. That's very generous of you, Sophie. I apologize for all the distress I've caused you.

If you'll excuse me, I must make preparations to leave Sleep Cove at first night tomorrow. Why, Sophie asked, don't you like Sleep Cove? He put a hand over his heart. I adore this wonderful village. Who wouldn't?

But how can I remain in such a lovely place after committing such a crime? And at Christmas no less, it would be quite improper. No one needs to know what's happened, so if he said, apart from a man, and the man are the cleaners, of course,

and no real harm has been done, People make mistakes. It's part of being human. Sometimes it's even what makes us interesting. Fenton nodded. You speak with great wisdom. And where indeed will the theatre be if stories did not contain conflicts and lapses in judgment. Theatre thrives on error and redemption. But still, I feel part of me. would not be fulfilled if I remain here without something creative to occupy me. Perhaps I should return to London and seek work backstage. A non-acting position in the theatre would allow me to remain close to actors and the world I love. An idea formed in Sophie's mind.

Fenton, have you considered starting an amateur dramatist? You could start one here at Sleep Cove. We don't have one. For a few seconds, Fenton stared at Sophie, apparently speechless. Then in one fluid movement, he rose from the bench and placed both hands over his heart. My dear, wonderful Sophie, what a marvellous idea. Simply marvellous. An amateur dramatics club right here in the

beautiful village. Imagine the productions we could stage. Seasonal plays, classic comedies, perhaps even a mystery with a dramatic twist. Oh the possibilities. He closed his eyes and smiled in pure delight. Fenton opened his eyes and asked, Would people welcome such a club? Would they welcome me? Sophie answered. I think everyone would embrace the club and you wholeheartedly, and I feel it would be an instant success. He bowed to Sophie, his scarf lifting slightly in the breeze. You have my sincere thanks. You have given an old actor a new direction, and who knows, perhaps when I write a mystery story, you could play the leading part.

Sophie laughed and waved the suggestion away. That is very kind, but I think I will leave the stage to others. Fenton smiled. I must return to my cottage at once and begin making plans. Drafts, casting ideas, a mission awaits me. And I shall call Anne first thing in the morning to apologize properly. I owe her that. Do you mind giving me her address? Sophie did so. Fenton tapped his head and informed her the address had been committed to memory.

He said, I must also apologise to that young man of the cleaners. He must feel dreadful, poor lad, and is all my fault. I do hope we meet again soon, my dear Sophie Meadows. Fenton bid her farewell with the flourish of his hand and walked away his coat swaying and his steps almost floating Sophie smiled as she watched him go then she stood up and with a tartan patterned bag in her hand she returned home

Later that day she visited Anne and gave her the Santa suit Sophie explained what had happened to it and about her meeting with Fenton Fantaine Anne was astonished but understanding as she brightened immediately and the idea of the new amateur dramatics club and she said she would be the first in line to join in. That evening when Sophie finally settled into bed she thought fondly about the day

the unexpected turns Fenton's theatrical confession the kindness of the village the Santa suit was safely returned and the promise of something new and joyful for sleep cove was here she relaxed against her soft pillows and closed her eyes

she had rather enjoyed solving a mystery Perhaps she would get the opportunity to solve another one soon. Sophie fell into a deep, restful sleep. Outside the stars shone steadily over sleep cave, casting their calm magic across the slumbering village.