The MI5 Girl In Oxford
Imogen, a quiet and unaffected student at Oxford, is bullied, badgered and threatened both for her Christian beliefs and for her unusual artistic ability.
Her uncle – a lecturer at the University – engages Sophie to help him with his research. She is though a former MI5 informant and her parallel covert task is to try to deter these left-wing thugs.
About the Author
From Anaesthesia to Astonishing Stories
Peter Morris spent forty years as an anaesthetist – in Britain, in Norway and in Continental Europe – knocking people out, but would also like to knock them out with his books.
He has written under his own name, The Suppliant, Scalpels Out, Mary and her Seven Devils and Bound with New Ropes. He has co-authored with a fictitious and beautiful Russian defector Natalia Pastukhova, The East German Police Girl and The East German Spy Mistress. He has written Early Dutch Poetry, a book of translated verse. For this latest book – The MI5 Girl in Oxford – he has chosen the pseudonym Sophie Doll.
He lives alone and Sophie is his friend and companion.
He says that the kapok in her head is of exceptional quality. She dictates and he – her amanuensis – types it.
Years as an anaesthetist
Books Published
of Unique Ideas
Literary Events
Book Collection
Explore My Other Books
Quotes
What's in the Book
‘If you’re going to Oxford, you need to retire that cardigan.’
The police were quietly relieved not to have to probe anyone from an ethnic minority.
‘What is this love,’ says the Song of Songs, ‘that we abjure it not?’
A sign in the hallway read, ‘Please be quiet during the day-time. The students are trying to sleep.’
Roman slavey or medieval thraldom were not without their up sides. At least then everyone knew what they were.
‘When strong enough, you are to fight the infidel and subdue him such that he pays you the jizya.’
‘A good thought? That’s all right, an equal division of labour … you provide the bull.’
‘I wonder how long before we shall again see Christians being martyred in England?’
We lost our way but saw a sign which read Travaux. We studied a map, looking for this village until we realised that Travaux meant ‘Road works’.
I exhaled. ‘I don’t see you being burnt at the stake for your convictions?’
In most ancient societies, loyalty and belonging were everything; money a mere side-show.
As she put a hand down his trousers and fumbled his bits, he said, ‘I didn’t realise you were a Freemason?’
‘To make a cake to offer in these Canaanite temples; half an ephah of flour, water, a little milk, salt and leaven … and perhaps to especially honour the god, some raisins?’
Peter’s Blog