When I was a kid, I always had my nose buried in one of Enid Blyton's mystery stories. When I was done with those, I graduated to Nancy Drew, The Hardy Boys and The 3 Investigators.
Now I have a mystery to solve all on my own. (Admittedly, they had more interesting mysteries which involved hiding in cars and spying on people and having their own tree houses as HQ for their top secret meetings, whilst mine is...)
A slim, blue jacketed copy of Wuthering Heights has somehow incredibly disappeared right under my nose. I know that maybe two years from now, I might find it hidden in the fridge or something and laugh and probably blog about it, but for now it's missing.
I've turned my book cupboards inside out twice, searched other cupboards, searched in travelling bags, in my car and anywhere else books may take a fancy to hide themselves. So, now, despite promising my sister that I could lend my copy to her friend who expressed some interest in reading the book after he was introduced to a song of the same name, I'm of the opinion that I might be unable to fulfil that promise. I've reached a point where I thought that I'd just get a new copy and lend that to him. If I find my original copy, then he gets a free book, if I don't then he can return this copy when he's done - which leads me to the second mystery.
The two bookstores I visited this week didn't have any copies with them!
So, Wuthering Heights - where art thou hiding?