Something not right with my whole bloody family, thought Connie now.

‘Well, the potatoes are delicious, Mrs Thrum,’ contributed their guest. It seemed that everyone was determined to be as unhelpful as possible by not saying the fellow’s name.

‘Thank you, dear,’ said Connie. He had a nice, kind look about him, that boy.

‘My friend Janet rang today,’ announced Enigma. ‘I’m very upset about it.’

‘Here we go,’ muttered Laura, picking up her wine glass.

‘She’s going to become a great-grandmother for the second time and she’s younger than me!’ said Enigma. ‘The only news I had to tell her was that my grandson had just broken up with his fiancée!’

Thomas, all pale and hunched over his dinner plate, said, ‘Sophie wasn’t my fiancée, Grandma. I hadn’t asked her yet.’

‘You had the ring! I saw the ring! It makes me cry to think about it.’ Enigma gave the table a watery, martyred smile.

‘It’s not Thomas’s fault, Grandma Enigma!’ said Veronika. ‘Sophie dumped him!’

‘I never saw it coming.’ Thomas gave a morose shake of his head. ‘Never saw it coming. I thought she felt the same way.’

‘Of course you did,’ said Veronika.

‘You’ll meet someone else, darling.’ Margie had polished off all her potatoes. ‘Miss Right is waiting just around the corner!’

‘She might not be, you know,’ said Enigma darkly. ‘June’s grandson is forty and can’t find a woman to marry him. He has to live with another man. Two sad bachelors!’

‘Two g*y bachelors, I’d say,’ said Laura, while Ron smirked.

Grace, bless her, changed the subject by telling Enigma that Callum’s mother was dying to meet her.

‘She had a book of unsolved mysteries when she was young,’ explained Callum. ‘And the Munro Baby Mystery was one of her favourites.’

‘It would be a pleasure to meet your mother, dear,’ said Enigma graciously. ‘You can take her home an autographed photo of me if she’d like.’

Connie asked Callum, ‘What were some of your mother’s other favourite mysteries?’

‘Well, she does love a good grisly murder, my mum. She used to talk about the Pyjama Girl Mystery and, oh, what was it, the Bread Board Murder. She was a young girl when they both happened.’

‘I’ve never heard of either of them,’ said Grace.

Connie said, ‘The Pyjama Girl was a woman found in her pyjamas near Albury in the 1930s. It was a horrible, brutal murder and they couldn’t identify who she was for ten years. They kept her body preserved in a bath filled with formalin for all that time. The Bread Board Murder was a man who was found sitting at his kitchen table with his face in his breakfast. He’d been hit over the head once with a bread board.’

‘Oh, but they were just normal run-of-the-mill murders,’ said Enigma dismissively. ‘Not as interesting as our mystery! And they solved the Pyjama Girl Mystery!’

‘Yes, but there was a big cover-up! I read a book about it and it looks like they got the wrong man,’ said Veronika, who always seemed to know everything about everything. It was a wonder the child hadn’t solved the Munro Baby Mystery for herself.

‘I bet the wife did the Bread Board Murder,’ said Laura caustically. ‘He probably complained about his eggs and she thought, That’s it, I’ve had enough.’

Yes, well, with that sort of attitude it’s no wonder your husband ran off with his dental nurse, thought Connie.

‘What’s your favourite unsolved mystery, dear?’ asked Margie, bringing the visitor back into the conversation.

‘That’s easy. The pyramids. I went to Egypt last year and they were extraordinary.’

But Enigma had no interest in mysteries other than the one involving her. She sighed, ‘I was just thinking, you know, Sophie would have been such a pretty bride!’

‘Mum, please!’ Margie made exaggerated gestures at her son, but Thomas, Connie could see, was in the mood for wallowing.

‘Well, she would certainly have been a blushing bride,’ said Veronika.

Connie said, ‘Don’t be spiteful.’

‘I’m being factual, not spiteful,’ said Veronika (rudely, thought Connie), and turned enthusiastically to the visitor. ‘Sophie has a blushing disease. You’ve never seen anybody go so red. The first time I saw her do it I couldn’t believe it.’

‘It’s not a disease,’ said Thomas. ‘It’s a condition.’

‘Whatever,’ said Veronika.

‘Is she very shy?’ The visitor probably thought they were all mad, but he was certainly doing an excellent job of acting interested.

‘Oh, no!’ contributed Margie. ‘That’s what so funny about her! She’s very social!’

‘Everyone loves her,’ said Veronika. ‘She’s manipulative.’

‘For heaven’s sake, is anybody else tired of the Sophie topic?’ asked Laura.

‘I don’t know,’ sighed Thomas. ‘Maybe she was out of my league.’

‘Oh bullshit!’ said Veronika, causing Rose to flinch as she came back to the table. Certain words didn’t agree with her. ‘She’s just average-looking! It’s not like she’s as good-looking as Grace, for example.’

‘Veronika!’ Grace dipped her head while Callum beamed.

‘I thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world,’ said Thomas. He turned to the visitor. ‘Do you want to see a photo of her?’

‘Sure,’ said the poor fellow, with what seemed to be genuine interest. He had such beautiful manners!

Thomas pulled his wallet out from his jeans, flipped it open and reverently handed the picture over.

‘Oh, she’s very attractive,’ said the visitor immediately.

At that point Thomas put his elbows on the table, buried his head in his hands and began to make strange wheezy gasping sounds.

‘Oh for Christ’s sake,’ said Ron.

‘Let it all out, darling!’ said Margie.

‘Maybe not at the dinner table,’ said Laura.

‘We should sue Sophie for emotional distress,’ spat Veronika.

‘Why don’t you ask her to marry you again?’ said Enigma.