The Russian Doll (Ben Sign Mystery Book 3) by Matthew Dunn

Author:Matthew Dunn [Dunn, Matthew]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-10-30T22:00:00+00:00

Four hours’ later Archer visited her mother in her retirement home in Godalming. The grounds were still wet from rain the day before, but now the sky was clear and there was no wind. She decided it would be nice to take Elizabeth out into the beautiful grounds. She pushed her mother in her wheelchair, along one of the many footpaths that ran between manicured grass, sensationally sculptured medium-sized trees and hedges, flower beds, and vegetable plots that were wired off to protect the crops from being eaten by hedgehogs. The air was rich with the scent of the moist grass, pine, rhododendron, bay, and burning logs of birch that had been cut, stored and dried since last winter, and were fuelling an exterior stone fireplace. She looked at the beautiful house that contained the residents. Smoke was billowing from three of its chimneys. Inside the house, lights were on, making the windows look amber, as yellow light mixed and reflected off the gorgeous heavy and currently parted crimson curtains. Patients were in there, some playing cards or board games, others reading or watching TV. Though Godalming was a small town, the care home was sufficiently far from the centre to be completely untroubled by the hurly burly of everyday life. It was, Archer always thought, a refined and magical oasis. She stopped by a small pond that contained frogs, carp, newts, and other aquatic life. Two ducks, a male and female, were on its surface. They’d lived here for two years. The residents called them Bonnie and Clyde, due to their proclivity to nick stuff out of people’s hands or pockets.

From her handbag, Archer withdrew bread and a bag of raisons which she handed to her mother.

Elizabeth said, “Raisons?”

“I’ve researched it. Apparently ducks shouldn’t eat bread. It swells up in their throat, plus is difficult to digest. The bread’s for the greedy carp.”

Elizabeth smiled and started tossing the food. “I’m hoping to see the old fella today.” She kept her eyes on the pond as the ducks chased after the bread and ignored the raisons. “There he is! Do give me a hand.”

Archer helped her mother out of her chair, fully supporting her weight, and assisted her to get on her knees. Elizabeth handed the old fella chunks of bread. He was a thirty pound carp who was often shy and other times brazen and greedy. Today he had no fear and sucked the bread from Elizabeth’s fingers. Archer lifted her mother back into her wheel chair.

Elizabeth shivered, despite wearing a shawl. “Autumn’s upon us.”

“Are you cold, mum?”

“No. Shivering’s a good reflex. It shakes off fear.” She patted her daughter’s hand. “The estate is beautiful at this time of year. I know I must leave soon, after all the tests are complete, but even this ancient been-around-the-block gal can get the collywobbles when change is afoot.” She looked at Archer. “I’m looking forward to moving in to your house. It will be lovely to spend time with you and see the Thames again.

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