Reasons why Fran is sticking to crossword puzzles only

I visit an elderly gentleman most Tuesday afternoons. He’s well into his nineties, doesn’t leave the house much and his mobility is limited so, poor chap, he can’t even pretend to be out when I ring the doorbell.

I make us coffee and we talk, amongst other things, about his latest jigsaw puzzle. There’s always one on a board on his dining table: a country cottage scene, a railway station, a field with tractors and sheep. It’s a major pastime for him, aided and abetted by anyone who calls and fancies slotting in a few pieces.

‘Feel free to do some of it,’ he always says, as I bring in the coffee.

‘It’s not really my thing,’ I’ve told him. Idly, I’ll pick up a piece, to show willing. I’ll stare at the jigsaw piece and then at the puzzle and then at the piece and then at the puzzle and would still be there, hours later, should he not need guests to leave so he can go to bed.

HowEVER, in April, my sister asked what I’d like for my birthday.

As it happened, I’d been browsing the Literary Gift Company website.

If you haven’t come across the company, it’s somewhere you can buy people Lady Macbeth soap which bears the words ‘Out, damned spot!’ This is on my wish list oh thank you very much how kind I’m much obliged.

You can also buy a baby’s vest emblazoned with the title and subtitle of Jonathan Swift’s long essay ‘A Modest Proposal’ which is interesting because that essay is all about how Ireland’s poor people could survive by selling their babies to rich people for food. I quote: "A young healthy child well nursed, is, at a year old, a most delicious nourishing and wholesome food, whether stewed, roasted, baked, or boiled; and I make no doubt that it will equally serve in a fricassee or a ragout.’

Fortunately, it’s satirical and therefore funny but imagine elderly ladies stopping you in the street and asking you to explain what the words on the bonny, beautiful, cute baby’s vest mean.

For people you hate, you can buy them a teatowel that explains the fronted adverbial.

Anyway, my sister’s birthday question reminded me that the Literary Gift Company sells this jigsaw puzzle in the shape of an old Remington typewriter. I learned to type on a similar machine just before the Normans invaded.

It felt like a little bit of nostalgia.

It was only 750 pieces.

If a nonagenarian could do it …

On my birthday, my sister and I went to a fabulous Mediterranean restaurant in Leamington Spa called Otto’s Kitchen where I’d like to go again because the food was delicious oh thank you very much how kind I’m much obliged.

While we waited for food to come, my sister gave me a present and I unwrapped it. It was the typewriter jigsaw puzzle. I’d forgotten mentioning it so it was a lovely surprise.

I went to see my old gentleman a few days later and told him about my new puzzle. He was delighted with the story and the fact that he’d inspired me. ‘Do you want to see a picture?’ I said.

‘Oh, yes, please, I’d love to,’ he said.

I showed him a photo on my phone.

‘How long did it take you?’ he said and I realised he’d misunderstood.

‘That’s a picture of the box,’ I said. ‘I haven’t opened it yet.’

His face fell. ‘Oh.’

That evening, I opened the box and put it on our dining table. I didn’t expect my husband would be able to help much. He has chronic migraine headaches and hasn’t done a jigsaw puzzle for years. Close work like that is difficult for him.

Or so we thought.

He said, tutting and shaking his head, ‘This is a really tricky puzzle. Some of the pieces are a weird shape and there are no corners and not many straight edges.’

‘Oh dear,’ I said. ‘Well, I’ll have to crack on with it. We can’t eat our dinners off our laps all year.’

Well.

For three hours, I battled with it myself, ending up with this.

I went upstairs to fetch a new hand towel for the kitchen from the airing cupboard and when I came down I saw this.

‘I’ve just done the edges,’ my husband said. ‘And separated out the keys. And the typebars. And the roller thing.’

‘Is your name Merlin?’ I said.

Still, it was my present, and I felt the need to stay involved.

The next day, I picked up a few pieces and put them down again. I found an A and an S and slotted them together, celebrating the achievement with a bar of Cadbury’s Fruit and Nut and two flapjacks.

Then I went into the front room to fetch a pen. When I came back, I saw this.

‘I’ve finished it,’ he said, superfluously.

‘So I see.’

‘The thing is, you need a strategy,’ he told me.

‘You know I don’t do strategy. I do spontaneity.’

‘Not with jigsaw puzzles you can’t.’

‘Right. How’s your head?’ I said.

‘It feels fine,’ he said, cheerfully.

I said, ‘Would you like me to remedy that with the bread board?’

I don’t mind the fact that he finished it. I’m pleased it turns out he can do a puzzle without getting a migraine. It’s going to make every birthday and Christmas he has until he dies much more straightforward and perhaps even afterwards if, at the funeral wake, I put an appropriately-themed jigsaw puzzle on the table for people to do while they eat their egg sandwiches and remember him. I’m thinking eagles flying off into the sunset or a ship sailing over the horizon or perhaps a picture of a man being murdered with a bread board.

I still need a hobby of my own, though, now it’s been confirmed that puzzles are not my thing.

Perhaps, collecting novelty soaps, oh thank you very much how kind I’m much obliged.

Inside Fran’s Diary

Still editing/polishing/rewriting Book 3 in the Jackie Chadwick series, including deleting two scenes involving a bus conductor because I discovered they were phased out in the 1970s and my book is set in 1981 #dotheresearchfirstyoueejit

Coming up fast …. Friday 20 June from 5-8pm I’m helping my local bookshop Warwick Books to celebrate Independent Bookshop Week 2025 at an event called ‘Authors Among the Bookshelves.’ Tickets are £5 but for that you get drinks, nibbles, 10% off all purchases and a £5 book voucher to spend on the night! Authors taking part are Adam Sharp, Caroline Lea, someone called Fran Hill who probably bribed them to let her in, Kit de Waal, Leena Norms, Natalie Marlow and Rick Thompson. Book here!

Saturday 2 August - a ‘Saturday signing’ at Kenilworth Books in Warwickshire, signing copies of ‘Home Bird’ from 10.30am - 1.30pm. These are always lovely events, spending a morning in a bookshop and chatting to customers. Come and say hello!

Monday 15 September - A free morning event at Alcester Library, in conversation about my books and writing, hosted by Warwickshire Libraries.

Thursday 11 December - a morning talk about ‘Finding the Funny’ to the wonderful Probus Club. They meet at Leamington Rugby Club and when I visited them last year to talk about ‘Language Change’ they were kind enough to laugh at my jokes so this year they’ve invited me to talk about how to make a joke funny. This had better go well.