“It’s amazing how well he knows his customers,” he tells me.Īfter lunch, we idly contemplate leaving the patient with her Patricia Highsmith and dropping into Midland Bookstore. “The Midland Bookstore man picked it out for me, you’ll like this,” he said. My friend makes us savory pongal - rice and dal with cumin and pepper - and then settles down to read The Village of Eight Graves. Mindful of the doctor's diktat on food and drink, I get her fruit: chopped Dussehri mangoes mixed with grapes and apple quarters. “It’s like Gone Girl,” she says, “only better”. We spend the day sprawling on the drawing room divans, reading crime fiction. Why did I leave her behind in my teenage years? Her complex characters and her polished prose make this writer of novels like Strangers on a Train and The Talented Mr. I resolve to read more Patricia Highsmith. My daughter's roommates have dropped her to a friend's house and I head there. If the fever hasn’t gone in two days, she should do a complete blood count test. She’s underweight, she needs to eat more. It baffles, bemuses and treats you to the tropes, like the character of Mrs Lilybanks, an elderly neighbour, who stays awake all hours, with binoculars for bird watching.īy the time the flight descends to Delhi, my inbox is full of messages. A Suspension of Mercy has the countless comforts of a crime thriller.
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