On my trip to the Far East, I didn't do as much reading as I had expected (mostly due to deciding to catch up on some movies on the plane journeys rather than non stop reading) and as a result, a few books taken came back unread.
One such was The Daughters of Cain, the latest Morse novel in my reading of the series. I have a signed (paperback) copy, which I think I must have picked up from one of Oxford's bookshops, although I didn't manage to go along to a signing.
The book is fantastic, as always, and I am getting close to that 'can't put it down until it is finished' stage, although the enjoyment is tinged with regret in the knowledge that once this one is finished there are only two to go.
Still, I could always re-read them all, this time with a dictionary next to me to look up all the rare words that Dexter sprinkles about for our education.
A few nuggets from the book to share.
Firstly, a couple of scenes take place in the Old Parsonage Hotel at the bottom of the Banbury Road. We were talking about a possible weekend away in Oxford, and this could be a good place to go - the website certainly makes it look good.
Secondly, in a discussion about musical tastes, a quote that I wanted to share with Dad:
"I'll tell you what I can't stand, sir - the bagpipes."
Morse smiled. "Somebody once said that was his favourite music - the sound of bagpipes slowly fading away into the distance."
And finally, Morse's health continues to deteriorate in this book, including another stay in hospital. He is considering retiring from the force, and Lewis asks him if he will miss things, to which Morse's immediate reply is that of course he bloody won't. But a few moments later, Morse interrupts Lewis:
"You just asked me if I'll miss things and I shan't, no. Only one thing, I suppose. I shall miss you, old friend, that's all."
He had spoken simply, almost awkwardly, and for a little while Lewis hardly trusted himself to look up. Somewhere behind his eyes he felt a slight prickling; and somewhere - in his heart, perhaps - he felt a sadness he could barely comprehend.