Right then. Today I thought it might be a good idea to blow away the cobwebs with a loooong bike ride around Hyde Park. I was right on that count, but what I hadn't reckoned with was the danger of returning home via the market. With cash on me.
The first stall I came across was a book one. And - Lord help me - the chap was selling Agatha Christie first editions:
The first stall I came across was a book one. And - Lord help me - the chap was selling Agatha Christie first editions:
Doesn't even THE CRIME CLUB at St James's Place in 1968 sound like somewhere one would want to hang out? (Dr Who writers, take note).
I'm a huge fan of Agatha and must have read most of her books by now. People may snipe about her lack of literary merit/cardboard cut-out characters/snobbery (take your pick), but she's still the world's best-selling author for one reason: her extraordinarily complex and intriguing plots. There's something very comforting about curling up with a nice cosy murder, trying to work out whodunnit.
I already have a bit of a paperback collection of AC...
I already have a bit of a paperback collection of AC...
... so to acquire these babies was simply irresistible. I do know whodunnit in both of them (having - erm - seen the TV adaptations), but promise not to blab!
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