The Milkwood Murder Series
I entered Plum Tree Cottage, not to the sound of Puccini, but to the sound of laughter — male laughter. I darted towards the kitchen. Which unsuspecting man had Finolla sunk her claws in today? I almost put my ear to the door, but to quote Finolla, “one should never listen at doors, especially if there’s a chance one’s going to get caught.”
Instead, I inched open the door and found Finolla in Adam’s arms and, if I wasn’t mistaken, they were doing the tango. I’ll be honest, I was speechless. Not so Finolla.
“Josie, darling, you’re back and just in time.”
“Just in time for what?” I could hear the petulance creep into my voice and, gosh darn it, I couldn’t do a blessed thing to stop it.
“To be my partner. Adam here is hopeless. Here, let’s show him how it’s done. I’ll lead, shall I?”
Before I had a chance to protest, Finolla pressed a switch on the CD player and Astor Piazzolla’s Libertango blasted across the toaster. Next thing I knew, Finolla had me in a vise grip, arms locked, toes pointed and was leading me across the floor towards the dustbin. Our faces were cheek to cheek and I took advantage of this.
“What the heck do you think you’re doing?”
“Oh darling, don’t tell me all those dance lessons were wasted?”
I heard a snigger. I was going to slap Adam Ward when I got out of this.
“Argentinian tango, darling. That summer in Buenos Aires with Tomás. Bueno!”
“It was Joaquín,” I corrected, instinctively kicking my leg backward from the knee. “And I got hives from my polyester hot pants.”
Finolla dipped me and I hung on for dear life. “I’d forgotten that part. All that calamine lotion. The Pink Panther had nothing on you.”
“Yeah, it was hysterical,” I hissed.
Finolla broke away, letting me tumble to the floor. “Oh, Josie, was it really that bad? Remember the empanadas, the chimichurri, the Malbec?”
“Mum, I was thirteen.” Although, as a matter of fact, I did recall the Malbec — it had been superb.
A wedding. A Death. A visiting family member from outside the country. A musical piece that continues to bring back memories. The Puccini Connection was a really good read.
Josie had returned to the UK to attend a wedding. She decides to make a stop at her aunt's home before continuing on with her holiday. Of course, when she arrives at the home of her aunt, she learns the aunt has just been murdered. Finger pointing, an unknown tenant, and a friend with a history of being 'unstable' make this story interesting.
“Of course she stopped coming when she took up that diet,” continued Florence.
Reverend Greene had gone silent. His brow furrowed. “Are you referring to that dreadful Frogmorton woman?”
“Charles!” exclaimed Florence. “It is not kind to talk ill of the dead.”
“Really?” Reverend Greene’s fingers steepled together, as he strolled towards the north transept. “Not sure that’s in Corinthians, dear.”
Well there you go, it seemed Delia had even managed to exasperate the vicar. Why did that come as no surprise?
“She complained,” said Florence, joining me as I cut across to the south aisle. “About the sacrament. Insisted Charles use something that didn’t contain carbs.”
I almost choked. “Delia wanted the bread of life to be, erm….”
“Not bread,” finished Florence. “I think she may have suggested bacon.”
“Wasn’t Jesus Jewish?” I asked.
“Quite. It didn’t go over too well with the Parish council.”
The Unread Prophecy is a wonderful second book in the Milkwood Murder series. One usually expects a second book to be a bit of a bore, but this second book in the series is truly a great read. I am starting to really get to know the people of Milkwood, and I look forward to visiting them again soon!
You'll want to read the first book in the series The Puccini Connection to have the full blown experience of the book, but if you haven't read the first book, this second book is still a delight. Grab a cuppa and a biscuit and enjoy!