Preface to Murder by M Morris (funny books to read txt) 📕

Today, for the first time, Alfie would be joining them at Vanessa’s house for Sunday lunch. It felt like a big step, welcoming Alfie into the wider family, and Bridget was pleased that he had accepted the invitation. Knowing Vanessa, she’d have gone to extra trouble to cook something special for the occasion. Although, come to think of it, Vanessa always went to extra trouble. Bridget wasn’t complaining. It would be the first decent meal she’d had all week.

She pulled up outside Alfie’s parents’ house in Sunderland Avenue – a white, detached 1930s house on the northern edge of Oxford – and waited in the car while Chloe went to fetch him. Bridget had met Alfie’s parents briefly after dropping Alfie back home after his visit to Wolvercote. They were a little older than Bridget, but seemed nice. Alfie’s father, Jasper, ran his own dental practice on the Banbury Road. His mother, Autumn, was a wildlife photographer who always seemed to be away in search of endangered species. Their demanding careers and laissez-faire attitude to child-rearing meant that Alfie had grown up with a lot of freedom. Too much, in Bridget’s opinion. They were lucky that their son had turned out so well.

Chloe and Alfie emerged from the house after a short while, hand in hand. Vanessa, Bridget knew, would take one look at Alfie’s skinny arms and torso and immediately serve him double helpings. She hoped he had a good appetite. Most teenage boys did.

‘Morning, Bridget,’ said Alfie as he and Chloe clambered into the Mini. He grinned cheerfully at her from the back seat.

‘Good morning, Alfie.’ Bridget could hardly complain about Alfie being over-familiar by using her first name. It was she who had invited him to do so. In any case, it was impossible to be cross with a boy who smiled so nicely.

Bridget drove the short distance to Vanessa’s house in Charlbury Road, and parked on the drive behind Vanessa’s Range Rover.

‘Nice house,’ said Alfie appreciatively, admiring the large, detached property that dwarfed Bridget’s own modest abode. The house was even bigger and grander than Diane Gilbert’s house on St Margaret’s Road a short distance away. Vanessa’s husband, James, ran his own highly successful, cutting-edge computer business, leaving Vanessa free to concentrate on raising the children, cooking the perfect roast and tending the garden. It was a lifestyle that Bridget envied from time to time, before reminding herself that she was hopeless in the kitchen and would hate to be cooped up at home all day.

‘Just wait till you’ve tasted Aunt Vanessa’s cooking,’ said Chloe. ‘She’s the best.’

It was a fair comment, and Bridget was glad that Chloe was still happy to join her and Vanessa for lunch every Sunday. The weekly occasion was a family tradition that Bridget hoped would continue for years to come. She just wished that Jonathan could be there too. Indeed, it was at a Sunday lunch at Vanessa’s that Bridget had first met Jonathan – no chance meeting, but a result of Vanessa’s matchmaking. Bridget had to admit that Vanessa had chosen well. Thankfully, Jonathan would be flying back the following day.

Once all the introductions had been made, Chloe took Alfie outside to look at the back garden, leaving Bridget alone with Vanessa and James.

‘So, what’s up with you?’ asked James. ‘How has Jonathan been getting on in New York?’

‘It sounds like he’s having a fabulous time.’

‘And you?’

‘So, so. To be honest, I’ve been feeling very alone with him and Chloe away.’

‘You should have called me,’ said Vanessa. ‘That’s what sisters are for.’

‘Yes, I suppose so.’

‘Is there something in particular on your mind?’ asked Vanessa

Bridget knew she shouldn’t discuss her work with her sister and brother-in-law, but it would be good to get her problems off her chest. She still hadn’t had a chance to talk to Jonathan properly. She took a deep breath and plunged in. ‘It’s work. A new case. A writer was killed in Oxford after appearing at the Oxford Literary Festival and it’s my fault.’

‘I heard about that on the news,’ said Vanessa. ‘But how can it possibly be your fault?’

‘No doubt you’ve heard about the death threat? I was supposed to be protecting her.’

‘Oh, I see. That is awkward.’

‘It’s more than awkward. It could be the end of my career.’ Bridget felt tears welling up in her eyes, but she refused to let Vanessa see her cry. She wiped them quickly away. ‘I know that you’ve never approved of my career choice, but you know how important it is to me. I spent years in the slow lane, working reduced hours while I looked after Chloe. I can’t afford anything to go wrong now.’

‘It wouldn’t be the end of the world, would it?’

‘I’m nearly forty, Vanessa. What else would I do with my life?’

‘Well,’ said James, before Vanessa could make any suggestions, ‘the answer seems quite straightforward to me.’

‘Really? What?’

‘Get on with it. Solve the case.’

Bridget laughed dismissively at his matter-of-fact solution. ‘It’s not that easy. There are all kinds of complications involving national security. I’m treading on eggshells and I feel completely out of my depth.’

‘You’ve solved difficult cases in the past,’ said James. ‘Just hang in there. I’m sure you’ll make a breakthrough sooner or later.’

Her brother-in-law’s faith in her was endearing. Bridget just wished she shared it.

‘Can Alfie and I take Rufus for a walk?’ asked Chloe, returning from the garden. Rufus, the family’s Golden Labrador, wagged his tail enthusiastically at the mention of his name and the word “walk”. ‘We’ll be back in time for lunch.’

‘Of course,’ said Vanessa. ‘Let me fetch his lead.’

‘They just want to spend a bit of time on their own,’ said Bridget, once Chloe and Alfie had been dragged out of the house by