Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Sometimes it's hanging right in front of your nose...

And it still takes almost 20 years to get it.

It says "1992" in my handwriting in the flyleaf of my Rumpole Ominbus (both volumes), the short story collection I've re-read several times (and that's not counting the ITV episodes, many but not all of the novels, and the audiobooks -- thanks to Doctor Beyond for the latter).

And yet only this week did I realize, with wild surmise, that his beloved but estranged son is named after the one place Rumpole always secretly feared he'd wind up.

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