The Daily Telegraph called it "the funniest prank in Parliament's history," though no one could quite agree on who had played it or what exactly the punchline had been. Edmund Blackwood, senior parliamentary correspondent, had been assigned the piece as a light-feature to fill space after the budget debate. He was not a humorous man by nature—forty-seven years of journalism had compressed his...
The house on Pemberton Lane had been silent for eleven years, but Edmund Blackwood learned quickly that silence is not emptiness—it is a different kind of speech.
He had inherited the property from his Aunt Margaret Hale, a woman he had barely known, who had lived at the end of a cul-de-sac in suburban Richmond like a note held too long in an empty concert hall. When the solicitor handed him...
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