Mr. Shshsher

I am working on a new novel (as well as editing a completed one) and thought you might like a little preview. This right from the beginning, when the main character, Thomas Radwinter is rung up by a prospective client:

I sometimes feel as if everything’s happening at top speed, and our lives have to be planned like a military operation. With four quite young children our world is a busy and hectic one… Somehow our babies, fortunately, very fortunately, have given us quiet nights… When Cassie was born and I was new to the world of babies, she gave me an easy introduction, apart from being extremely loud and even from being tiny having a very forceful personality. However, as I’ve often told her, credit where credit’s due, she did sleep through the night apart from waking for an early morning feed.
Mornings are hectic, and the priority is to get my wife to work and my son to school and then the little ones to nursery. So it was today, a proper paid work day today,  and I settled down to make the most of my day and earn some money.I have to be very strict with myself, which is actually more difficult than you might think, because particularly when I am doing someone’s family tree I get terribly side-tracked by interesting names and strange occupations.
So I was concentrating completely on the ins and outs of some legal papers for a client and didn’t register my phone was ringing. I answered it rather more loudly than I meant to and there was silence then the sound of laboured breathing…
Good grief, don’t say I’ve got a heavy-breather… Hello? I said rather firmly and sternly ready to finish the call and block the number.
“Good morning… is that Mr. Radwinter….” And the voice, man or woman I couldn’t tell, faded away, then started again. “My name is Shsh Shshsher…”
“I’m sorry, you are?”
“Shsh Shshsher… A friend at the golf club suggested you might be able to help me…”
When I was working as a proper solicitor in a practice in Strand, I had a dear old gentleman who always asked for me to assist in his matters and business, usually changing his will which was a bit of a hobby of his. When our firm amalgamated with another and moved their head office to Castair, I was effectively given the sack; however my kindly old gentleman insisted that I continue to handle his affairs and more than that, recommended me to  a lot of his friends at the golf club. The golf club gang, as I call them, are my best clients, and are nearly all nice people and also quite wealthy.
As well as the usual conveyancing, enduring powers of attorney, wills and even a couple of divorces, they have asked me to help them on several intriguing ‘cases’ such flowers left on the grave, the mysterious Moroccan and the manipulative Tibetan Lama.
“I will try my best Mr. Shshsher…” I couldn’t ask him again for his name, having tried to work it out three times. “Perhaps we could arrange a time where we could meet, or maybe I could call on you… what sort of business do you wish to conduct?”
There was another yawning pause before Mr. Shshsher replied that he would have to discuss that with me… he wasn’t sure I could help, he wasn’t sure anyone could help, but his friends had recommended me highly…

If you haven’t read my Radwinter stories, or my other novels, here is a link to my e-books, available on Amazon:

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