How exciting it was after all these years of research to discover there were three murders in the family tree. Goodness! It had been staring Desirée in the face all this time.
Great grandfather Freddie was married to Irene and they had eleven children under the age of fifteen. During the census of 1918 Irene and her sister and mother were at an address at Brighton clearly having a break at the beach resort. The nanny looked after the children – according to the census records. Freddie wasn’t there. The address the census gave him was miles away from where he lived.
Irene, her sister, and her mother never returned from that beach address. They all died in the same weekend. A month later, Freddie remarried; to a widow called Fifi who lived at the address that Freddie had been visiting during the census.
Murder! It was so obvious. The death certificates of the three murdered women stated that they died of influenza. Yeah right! There was no inquest because every second person in that year died of the Spanish Flu. But clearly Freddie had poisoned them in order to marry the flirtatious Fifi.
Fifi was French. At least, the name looked French, which sent Desirée the researcher into a spin. She apparently was descended from the liaison between Freddie and Fifi. Not only murders in the family, but French blood! Let those who are not impressed eat cake.
Desirée shared her findings with her close relatives. How wonderful it was to be descended from a murderer with French connections.
And then something even more exciting happened. Desirée began to suspect the children’s nanny was doing a little more than cleaning up after the children. Desirée put her findings online.
History is so absorbing when people share the facts they find. The internet is riddled with such facts.
Ah yes…the joys of the modern world. Remember the days if twitching net curtains?
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It is a vivid memory! What a wonderful expression: The twitching of the net curtains. Unfortunately Americans call them “Sheers” or “Shears” – I’m not sure which – so I try to avoid using net curtains and sheers/shears altogether!
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Me too – but the memory remains!
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I think it’s sheers, cause you can see sheer through them. Although shears make a great murder weapon.
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Thanks – yes, I suspected it was sheers. Speaking of which, one shears a sheep and the sheep is shorn,, but do you say I shorn a sheep or I sheared a sheep?
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I have always heard it as sheared. Is that how it is in New Zealand?
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I THINK people say “I shore a sheep”??? It’s what I would say but haven’t shorn one for over 50 years!
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That could be. I’ve only been involved in the process a couple of times, and it was a while ago… not quite fifty years though.
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Shearers usually put a couple of adjectives before such verbs anyway.
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Yay! I love facts!
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Fact to you are like the carrots in a pumpkin pie – orange and necessary.
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Absolutely.
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I think Desiree presents a compelling case.
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She’d clearly murder for a good story.
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This is really funny to me because my wife is really into genealogy. Hmmm…Perhaps I should be careful since she likes sheers and owns shears.
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Genealogy is fine as long as one remembers that the odd dog climbed over the garden wall.
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Oh, yes. We discovered that about me.
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It’s a good thing we have people like Desiree to make sure we have the facts!
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She murdered the facts as the saying goes!
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Now I’m waiting for someone to come out of the shadows and murder Desiree.
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You’re far too suspicious Noelle! It comes from writing murder mysteries and (hopefully) not from your historical work!
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