59 pages • 1-hour read
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Content Warning: This section of the guide includes discussion of sexual content, ableism, substance use, and death.
Sixty-eight-year-old Muriel Blossom, arriving at the airport for her first transatlantic flight, hesitates when the British Airways ticket clerk offers to “bump” her up to business class for her flight to London. Mrs. Blossom has never been “upgraded” before, and the prospect flusters her. She’s also disconcerted when the agent awkwardly lauds the “comfort” of the business class seats, sensing a veiled reference to her weight. Always self-conscious about her weight, Mrs. Blossom has come to dread the close quarters of planes, so she’s relieved when a silver-haired gentleman notices her anxiety and volunteers to take the seat next to hers so that he can take “good care” of her.
The man, whose name is Allan Turner, gives her a tour of the airport’s amenities and escorts her through security. He reminds her a bit of her beloved husband Harold, who died 10 years ago. Gratified by Allan’s praise of her for traveling alone, Mrs. Blossom doesn’t tell him that her vacation in France will only be two weeks, and her friend Elinor will shortly be joining her for a river cruise. She decides to keep her backstory simple, telling him that she’s a native of Baltimore, rather than explaining that she’s lived for a decade with her daughter’s family in Arizona before recently moving back.
Allan, a lawyer who also lives in Maryland, tells Mrs. Blossom he’s going to London on business. Admiring her charm bracelet, he asks about one of the charms, which resembles a golden fortune cookie. She tells him it’s private; a Christmas gift from Harold, not long before his sudden death, the charm is a locket that contains his last written message to her, which she has not yet found the courage to read.
In the plane bathroom, Mrs. Blossom scrutinizes herself, wishing she’d applied makeup now that she has a male admirer. When she comes out, Allan offers her a “melatonin gummy” to help her sleep on the flight and ease her jet lag. Since her vacation will be longer than his own, he gives her his bottle of gummies, slipping it into her handbag. In a daze of excitement and anticipation, Mrs. Blossom tries to silence her late mother’s nagging voice that continues to mock her aspirations from beyond the grave.
When Mrs. Blossom wakes from her gummy-induced nap, Allan tells her they’ve arrived in London, but she will miss her connecting flight to Paris due to a weather delay. This mystifies her, since she thought she had scheduled plenty of time. Allan insists on paying for her room that night and talks her into taking the Chunnel train rather than a plane, saying it’s much more efficient. At Paddington Station, he takes pictures on her phone of her with the Paddington Bear statue to send to her grandchildren, then asks if he can send one to himself.
In her London hotel room, Mrs. Blossom is dissatisfied with the clothes she packed, mostly bright flower prints. If only she could dress more stylishly, maybe Allan wouldn’t look at her with such “sexless affection, as if she were a child, or simple-minded” (19). She feels guilty for wanting more, which seems greedy after almost 40 years of blissful marriage to Harold, but she tells herself a mere “flirtation” can do no harm.
That day, Allan takes her on a whirlwind tour of London, ending with dinner at a fancy Indian restaurant, where Allan confesses that the gummy he gave her was not melatonin but cannabis. He says the other gummies in the vial he gave her are all melatonin, but he brought the cannabis gummy to take on the plane, since it’s illegal to bring into the UK. He gave her the gummy because he thought she needed its calming effect more than he did.
Initially shocked that he drugged her without her knowledge, Mrs. Blossom quickly forgives him, reasoning that he meant well. She tells him that she worked as a “private detective” in Baltimore, a slight exaggeration, since she actually did surveillance for a private investigator. She excelled at surveillance work, she says, because she’s “invisible,” like “most women” her age. Allan disagrees and asks if he can keep in touch, perhaps even have dinner with her later that month at a Baltimore bistro he knows. Mrs. Blossom happily agrees.
That night, Allan asks to share a “nightcap” in her room. To her surprise and delight, he kisses her passionately. Mrs. Blossom realizes how much she has missed physical intimacy after going without it for 10 years. Going into the bathroom to change, she feels groggy from the alcohol she drank that day and Allan’s intoxicating kisses. Deciding she doesn’t need a sleep aid, she drops the salmon-colored gummies he gave her into a secret compartment of her pillbox, so as not to risk detection by customs officers in case Allan accidentally included another cannabis edible among them. Also in the compartment is her prized possession: a pair of diamond studs, a gift from Harold on their 20th anniversary.
Allan stays with her until she falls asleep, but they don’t have sex. Though gratifying, her desire for Allan is mingled with guilt: Highly sexed in her youth, she married the “exemplary” Harold partly as a safeguard against her own desires, and now her attraction to another man feels almost like a betrayal.
On the Chunnel train the next day, Mrs. Blossom notices a man in his forties, staring at her. Guiltily, she wonders if he has somehow intuited her sexual attraction to Allan. The strangeness of her vacation reminds her of how miraculously it all began, with her chance discovery of a lost lottery ticket in a convenience store parking lot. Incredibly, it turned out to be worth $8.75 million, and after several failed attempts to find the true owner, she cashed it in, choosing the lump sum over annuities. It was a timely windfall, as her daughter’s family was moving to Japan, ending Mrs. Blossom’s living arrangement with them in Arizona. She bought a luxurious apartment in Baltimore with plenty of money left over.
Arriving a day late at her hotel in Paris, she checks her watch and remembers that Allan set it to Paris time for her. Realizing that London is an hour behind and she could have made her connecting flight after all, she tells herself that Allan must have forgotten this detail. Leaving the hotel, she sees a man who she thinks is Allan—same silver-gray hair—but when he fails to turn at her call, she assumes she was mistaken. Then, in a nearby restaurant, she notices a man whose plaid suit and tortoiseshell glasses look familiar: It’s the man who was staring at her on the Chunnel train.
Unsure whether his presence is a coincidence, Mrs. Blossom confronts him. The man evades her questions but finally smiles at her and suggests they dine together. He introduces himself as Danny Johnson and remarks on the coincidence of her coming from Baltimore, as his alma mater is the Maryland Institute College of Art (MICA). He says that he is on vacation and was just in London to catch up on the new musicals in the West End. Hearing this and noticing his “impossibly perfect” clothing and carefully groomed eyebrows, Mrs. Blossom wonders to herself if he might be gay.
Danny eases the awkwardness of their conversation by telling her about himself: His mother was British, and his father was Pakistani. He then offers his unsolicited opinion of her clothes, advising her to buy a new wardrobe, preferably some “beautiful caftans.” Claiming to be a professional stylist, Danny says Mrs. Blossom’s clothes are “antifashion,” as if she’s trying to look like “nothing.” As he escorts her back to her hotel, he adds that he’d like to take her shopping in Paris.
As she enters the hotel, however, waiting police officers tell her that Allan Turner has just died. Apparently, he fell from the balcony of his Paris hotel. They want to know why Allan texted a photo of her, along with her name and the address of her hotel, to an unknown party. Crushed by the news of his death, Mrs. Blossom cannot explain the photo or why he changed his plans and came to Paris without telling her. The police show her the mystifying message he sent along with her photo: “A very nice lady, she has your eyes” (44).
Concerned for her safety, the police accompany Mrs. Blossom up to her hotel room. Danny tags along, taking the opportunity to critique her travel clothes. When the police demand to know who he is, Danny lies that he’s Mrs. Blossom’s son. Too shocked to contradict him, she doesn’t object to his coming with her when she identifies Allan’s body.
Once they’re alone, Danny explains smoothly that he wanted to stay close to her for her own good, in case the police tried to treat her like a suspect; son was the only relationship the police might believe. Though Mrs. Blossom believes that Allan’s death was an accident, Danny suggests that he might have been trying to use her as a “mule” to smuggle something out of the US. She is forced to admit that Allan visited her London hotel room for a nightcap and stayed until she fell asleep, but this is a “tender memory” that she refuses to let Danny tarnish with his suspicions. She says that if Allan slipped something into her luggage, she’d have discovered it while unpacking. Danny counters that Allan (or someone else) might already have broken in and removed it while she was at dinner. Offering to “start over” with her, Danny urges her to accept his services as a stylist, but Mrs. Blossom doesn’t quite trust him and gives him no firm answer.
With its title and foreign setting, Murder Takes a Vacation announces its kinship with the cozy genre of murder mysteries, many of which unfold literally on vacation, e.g., Agatha Christie’s A Caribbean Mystery, Evil Under the Sun, etc. The formality of the protagonist’s name (Mrs. Blossom), with its honorific, also alludes to Agatha Christie, specifically her elderly amateur detective Miss Marple. Marple, like Mrs. Blossom, is single, elderly, ordinary-looking, and unassuming—traits which, combined with her keen eye, life knowledge, and strong moral sense, give her an advantage over those who would underestimate her or ignore her presence entirely. Like Miss Marple, Mrs. Blossom feels invisible in public, making her an excellent “shadower” of those with something to hide, such as the suspects she trails for the private investigator Tess Monaghan or the “fake bellman” in Paris. These traits establish Mrs. Blossom’s strengths, including those that cause others to underestimate her, establishing the theme of The Power of Subverting Expectations. However, Miss Marple changes little (if at all) throughout her stories, as the very stability and predictability of the central character is a convention of the cozy mystery genre. Lippman’s novel, on the other hand, focuses from the very start on the evolving personality of its amateur sleuth. As her name suggests, Mrs. Blossom will “blossom” throughout the story, her confidence rising as she tackles the novel’s murder mystery as well as her longtime insecurities, foregrounding the theme of Reclaiming Identity and Agency in Later Life.
The first sentence of Murder Takes a Vacation—“Mrs. Blossom had never been upgraded in her life” (3)—centers the narrative on these insecurities, and therefore on Mrs. Blossom’s character arc, often giving priority over the murder plot. Unused to having money or being on her own, and flustered by the complexities of transatlantic travel, Mrs. Blossom experiences a “tongue-tied confusion” at the airport and gratefully surrenders herself to the benevolent control of a handsome stranger, Allan Turner. In these opening scenes, her nondescript appearance, which Christie’s Miss Marple recognizes as an asset, is revealed as a source of shame for Mrs. Blossom, something that has kept her far from the “velvet ropes” of the world’s haut monde. Painfully self-conscious about her weight, she winces inside when the ticket clerk stammers to her about how much more “comfortable” the seats in business class will be for her, introducing the theme of The Personal Impact of Societal Prejudices About Weight. With this first scene of the novel, the stage is set for another kind of journey: one of personal growth and burgeoning confidence. The charming Allan shows every sign of being a key player, and his last name (“Turner”) even hints that his role may be to “turn” Mrs. Blossom into someone new. His suave flirtation has a transformative effect, arousing the first palpable sexual desire she has felt in a decade. Mrs. Blossom, dealing with grief and guilt over her husband’s death and insecurity about her body shape, finds herself contemplating the once-undreamed-of possibility of dating (and having sex) again.
However, the novel quickly leans into mystery novel conventions as Mrs. Blossom, who seems oblivious to Allan’s manipulations, is portrayed as drugged by him, a fact that she doesn’t seem to comprehend. When he maneuvers his way into her hotel room that night and stays until she falls asleep, her naivete in trusting him is both poignant and tense, with the narrative implying that Allan has targeted her precisely because of those personal traits that most dismay her: her poor body image, her loneliness, and her apparent desire for invisibility, all of which make her the perfect “mule” to smuggle contraband through customs. Mrs. Blossom’s lovemaking with Allan is recounted after the fact—during her solo train ride into Paris—which narrows the story’s suspense around the possibility of her being used as a mule, rather than a more nefarious outcome, such as her being attacked in her sleep. Since she’s made it onto the Chunnel train without incident, Allan’s plans for her, though hardly innocent, are revealed to be long-term ones, leaving the exact nature of their entanglement undefined but foreshadowing future danger for Mrs. Blossom.
Lippman also establishes connections to detective noir in these chapters as she continues to introduce ambiguous characters with unclear motives into Mrs. Blossom’s life. Even before Allan’s death is revealed, she has attracted another man’s attention: Danny Johnson. Danny, whose very name seems too bland to be true, is first seen staring at Mrs. Blossom on the Eurostar, and his appearance draws connections to noir. Like Peter Lorre in The Maltese Falcon, he’s exquisitely dressed and groomed, and possessed of a smooth, louche savoir faire. Like Allan, he instinctively homes in on Mrs. Blossom’s insecurities, in his case by critiquing her lackluster wardrobe. Disarming her with his frank wit, he insinuates his way into her trust, even after blatantly lying to the gendarmes in front of her by claiming to be her son. He’s present when she first hears about Allan’s strange death, and even manages to follow her and the police up to her apartment. With his instant insinuation into Mrs. Blossom’s life and the unfolding mystery, the narrative implies that he knows much more about Allan and his death than he’s letting on, but Mrs. Blossom does not make the connection. To her, Allan’s fall from the balcony was a mere accident, and even the news that Allan spent his last hours texting her name, photo, and Paris address to a mysterious number on his burner phone does not trouble her much. However, within the conventions of the mystery genre, these incidents indicate an ominous development, made worse by Mrs. Blossom’s refusal to change hotels. Between Allan’s mysterious accomplice and the shifty Danny, who shows no signs of going away, Mrs. Blossom’s two-week idyll in France now seems fraught with intrigue, if not deadly peril, although she has not yet assumed the role of amateur detective—in these chapters, she still hasn’t recognized the mystery that is unfolding around her.



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