GOLF Mystery

By Robert R. Anderson

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2011 Robert R. Anderson

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GOLF Mystery | Robert R. Anderson

She is gone now, and, if I believe that young pup of a doctor, it will not be long until I follow her. I suppose he knows what he is talking about. I have played in the same foursome with his father for nearly forty years, and I have watched him grow up into the right sort, like his old man. If he says I am doomed, so be it. I have little to complain about and nothing now, if truth be told, to look forward to without her. If I had my way, I would keel over out on the golf course some sweet spring morning with the sun sparkling on the velvet grass and soft clouds floating overhead. That would be a nice end. I read somewhere a long time ago that if a fellow has three happy years to look back upon then that constitutes a pretty good life. Well, I had that and then some. A friend had carved on her tombstone “Thank you, I had a lovely time.” I guess I could say the same. So let me tell you a love story from one of those years, but a love story that got tangled up in some rather odd and mysterious goings on. I got out of the service in ‘forty-six. Because I was a college boy and also near sighted, I spent my days serving the war effort as a clerk and typist and occasionally as a courier. The last two years were based in London and the smell of the brick dust that hung in the air of that blasted city will always be part of me. It was incredibly boring work interspersed with moments of terror when the buzz bombs came overhead. We used to joke somewhat ruefully that we also served who only sat and typed. I was billeted in a back room of a cheap hotel near Russell Square. To while away the boredom, for there was nothing to do and nowhere to go in the evenings, I took to writing a simple little mystery novel. It became something to look forward to on a dreary evening, and the characters took on lives of their own and I became more their chronicler than their creator. For background, I set the story in the hunt country where I had grown up, and that helped to dispel the occasional moments of homesickness
to which all who served in the armed forces overseas were frequently subject.

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