By continuing to use this site, you are consenting to the use of Google analytics to monitor user activity.
Before I finish, I just want to make something clear. People often seem surprised that I don’t resent having Jonah living with us. They seem to think that I should be jealous of another man taking up so much of my wife’s (and stepdaughter’s) time, and they particularly worry about the idea of Bernie dressing and undressing him and sometimes sleeping in his room to take care of him during the night. All of that is pure nonsense and fails to understand the situation.
I suppose, if I’m honest, part of the reason that I was happy to take Jonah into our home – and before that I was happy for Bernie to give up her job to become his daytime assistant – is that Bernie is not – and she knows that she is not – the love of my life. I daresay my reaction would have been quite different if Angie and I had still been married and she had suggested bringing one of her patients home to live with us. I love Bernie, but I don’t feel the same exclusive passion for her that I did – and still do – for Angie.
The other reason is also the reason for my choice of title for this section of my reminiscences, and it goes right back to those early days working under DI Richard Paige. When Jonah came on the scene, for me it was like having to share a parent with a troublesome younger brother. When he moved down to South Oxfordshire, it was like the kids leaving home. And now we’re like grown up brothers who don’t any longer need to be constantly proving that we’re better than one another – or not often, anyway!