First of all...thank you SO much for your kind words regarding my ongoing affliction. Will I get more sympathy when you find out that my 'frozen shoulder' affects both arms? I don't do things by half, now do I! This afternoon I spoke with a physiotherapist who is, by all accounts, fantastic with shoulders and comes with twenty-five years of experience. The earliest appointment to see her isn't for six weeks but an excellent one hour hands-on assessment is worth waiting for. Is anyone else frustrated these days by the quick flash of your doctor's white coat as they whip into the examination, look at their computer, type something, and then...flash, a blur of white as they move on to the next room?
So my first book from the library with a blue and white spine label depicting a quasi-Sherlock Holmes character has been read. I am not all that sure that this genre is one to have me clapping my hands in glee but it was nice to give something new a try. For those who know that my reading tastes rarely stray from English writers it made me laugh to discover that this mother/son writing team is from the United States. Which yes, for that alone, other books have been placed back on the shelf. It's not that I am anti-North American but simply pro-British when it comes to authors. So, settling in each night with my 'kick me out of my comfort zone' who-done-it and a cup of tea I found myself with more questions than answers.
Answer me this, just how much time off for sleuthing would your average World War I nurse be allowed? Bess Crawford seems to apply the odd cool cloth and write a letter home for a wounded soldier before she is off on yet another train across England's green and pleasant landscape. For a young woman away, doing her bit for the country, her parents barely have time to miss her. Bess pops in at a moments notice just in time for tea and sometimes even manages to startle her poor mother as it was only five minutes before her last visit. And just how does that lovely man, Simon, seem to know where Bess is at any given moment? Alighting from Waterloo Station and wouldn't you know - there is Simon with his car at the curb with nothing else to do with his day but take Bess directly to wherever it is she is going. Is she ever on the Tube, fighting her way against a stream of humanity? When Bess wakes in the night in her flat near Buckingham Palace to the sound of an intruder it just so happens that Simon is parked around the corner, at the ready, to save this damsel in distress. My guess is that these rescue missions are building a bit of sexual tension between officer and nurse. Just you wait and see.
Another thing I couldn't help noting, and I know this is fiction, but would the stereotypical reserved English citizen take kindly to a strange woman appearing on their doorstep full of questions...much less invite them in for tea and cake? That nurse's uniform must break down all sorts of social mores and etiquette when it comes to getting your foot in the door whether it be cottage or Georgian townhouse. The detectives at Scotland Yard could learn a thing or two from Bess Crawford or if nothing else, curse her rate of success with coincidences.
A couple of chapters before the end (I knew everything would end up just fine) my yearning to get back to a story involving a woman going for shopping emerged. But, I did get the third Bess Crawford book for Christmas and you know what? I'm sort of looking forward to it.