Clued Up

We Think you'll love this story about life and its puzzles.

- Gabrielle Mullarkey

Mum’s finally got an appointment with her GP, and I’m driving her there,” I explain to Ian when I ring to say I won’t make puzzle club that evening.

“Nothing trivial, I hope,” he jokes. “That’s a joke, by the way.”

“Almost,” I jest back, adding, “Neck pain. She can’t drive herself at the moment. Can’t turn her head at junctions.”

I don’t go into details – like the fact that Mum insisted she didn’t need a lift to evening surgery, although the alternative would’ve been taking a taxi.

Anyway, I’m a woman of few words, as Mum would attest. That’s why I felt drawn to puzzle club, which I saw advertised in the library a few months ago and joined out of curiosity. They’re my kind of people, given I’m the reticent type (Clue: Reticent sea dweller? Answer: Clam).

A new habit of mine – I file away words and how they might fit into a crossword – though I’m still a novice at cryptic ones. The clue I’ve just thought of would be a cinch for seasoned puzzlers, like Ian. As chairman of the club, he’s taken it upon himself to help me get to grips with cryptic clues, but I’m a poor study. Take the ‘easy’ one he showed me last week from the Chambers Crossword Dictionary: Dog wearing lead.

I stared at that until I had a headache, aware of Ian’s silently patient support, eventually saying, “I give up. Is ‘dog’ an anagram for ‘god’? Thank goodness, solving one of these wasn’t an initiation test!”