Tag: British settings

Book Review: The Cursed Road by Laura McCluskey – another dark and twisty mystery set in the Scottish Highlands

~ Judith ~ Leave a comment

When I spotted on Netgalley a second book in Laura McCluskey’s DI Georgina Lennox series, I quickly expressed my interest. I’d been well entertained by George’s first appearance in The Wolf Tree, a crime novel set on a remote Scottish Island, full of secrecy, superstition and twists. George is a stroppy character, young for a DI but has a good nose for detective work. So she’s partnered with DI Richard Stewart, an experienced avuncular sort, the good cop to George’s bad, doing his best to keep George out of trouble.

But in The Cursed Road, the tables have been turned. The traumatic events of the first book left both cops reeling, George undergoing some months of recovery and therapy, which have made her stronger, steadier. Richie on the other hand has not done the therapy, won’t look George in the eye, and has a short fuse that has their Superintendent worried. When a case comes up – the discovery of the body of a young woman in a remote corner of the Highlands – the two are sent to the town of Kirkcree to investigate, George also tasked with keeping an eye on Richie, reporting back anything that causes concern.

Emotions are running high for Richie. He’s the lead because ten years ago, a young woman disappeared from the same area. Cara Reid had a difficult start to life, lacked family support, but she always kept in touch with her younger brother, until suddenly she didn’t. Richie has never forgotten the case, blaming himself for not finding her. The new victim was found with Cara’s name scratched on her arm. The two cases must be linked, surely.

It takes less than six hours for the press to start calling her Bambi.
The moniker is as cruel as it is inaccurate; in the story, Bambi survives. What they really should have called this woman, her body found in a remote area of the Scottish Highlands just before dawn this morning, is ‘Bambi’s Mother’ – especially after the pathologist dug out the bullet, a .270 Winchester, from between her third and fourth ribs.
‘A perfect shot,’ one local police constable was quoted admitting, ‘if you thought you were bringing down a deer.’
But just as effective in bringing down a person, George thinks as she thumbs through the article on her phone.

George and Richie settle in somewhat testily at their small-town inn, supposedly there for just one night to see what they can find out from interviewing the pathologist and investigating the crime scene. It would be easy to see this as a shooting accident gone wrong. Further along the road where the body was found is an exclusive resort catering to international tourists wanting to hunt deer. Investigations unearth disputes the owners have with an old Scottish family that has lived in the area for centuries in their crumbling castle. Suddenly the story is peppered with interesting characters and potential suspects.

Other people on George’s radar include the creepy guy who eyeballs George at the village pub, and the journalist Hendry Shaw who made a big story out of George and Richie’s discoveries on the island. He particularly highlighted George’s part in the case, which hasn’t helped her relationship with Richie. George doesn’t hesitate to give Hendry a piece of her mind, especially when he follows them to Kirkcree. But is he beginning to wear George down?

A curse, a hundreds-year-old feud and a ghostly apparition all add to the atmosphere in this curious case. Clues and suspicious behaviour stretch the stay of the two detectives and with that the danger level rises. The detective’s partnership is put under pressure and George has to be the mature one, adding a bit of depth to the characterisation. The story builds nicely in pace with a nail-biting finish and George shows her mettle. It all adds to a clever, original and entertaining murder-thriller and a four-and-a-half-star read from me.

The Cursed Road was published this week on 24 February. I received a review copy courtesy of Netgalley and Harper Collins Publishers Australia.

Book Review: Hamnet by Maggie O’Farrell – a story about Shakespeare, his family and the tragedy that haunted them

~ Judith ~ Leave a comment

Maggie O’Farrell’s one of my favourite authors, but for some reason I forgot to read Hamnet. Then the movie came out and reminded me. To be fair, I wasn’t sure I would enjoy a story which involves the death of a child. And yes, there’s suffering as well as grief here. But O’Farrell also fills the book with so much life and sensation, vividly bringing you into the English countryside, the period, and the small town where Agnes/Anne and William Shakespeare live.

The first and biggest chunk of the book is a dual timeframe story which tells you how William Shakespeare meets Agnes Hathaway, when he is sent to tutor her young half-brothers. They are both extraordinary people and can see that in each other as soon as they meet. Agnes, because who wouldn’t notice a tall, striking woman carrying a falcon; and William, because Agnes can see into people with a kind of extra-intuition, and observes in the bored eighteen year old, the huge imagination and talent that will make his name.

The story flips between their love story and over a decade later when young Hamnet and his twin sister Judith are in the yard together. Judith starts to feel ill and goes inside to lie down. The twins live with their older sister and mother in a narrow house sharing a yard with Agnes’s in-laws. They are in and out of each other’s houses. But when Judith falls ill, her mother is at her brother’s farm, tending her bees. The other women, his grandmother and aunt are out, and his grandfather ill-tempered and volatile, leaving Hamnet running desperately into the street to find help.

She grows up feeling wrong, out of place, too dark, too tall, too unruly, too opinionated, too silent, too strange. She grows up with the awareness that she is merely tolerated, an irritant, useless, that she does not deserve love, that she will need to change herself substantially, crush herself down if she is to be married. She grows up, too, with the memory of what it meant to be properly loved, for what you are, not what you ought to be.
There is just enough of this recollection alive, she hopes, to enable her to recognise it if she meets it again. And if she does, she won’t hesitate. She will seize it with both hands, as a means of escape, a means of survival. She won’t listen to the protestations of others, their objections, their reasoning. This will be her chance, her way through the narrow hole at the heart of the stone, and nothing will stand in her way.

In a few scenes, Maggie O’Farrell shows us how their family works, the town they live in, the period, and the surrounding countryside. It’s all so vivid and full of the young boy’s energy, his desperation. By the time the women return, Judith is gravely ill, and there are the tell-tale signs of the plague. Time passes slowly and fast at the same time. Hamnet’s waiting for help, then slipping into sleep next to his twin, but everyone else around them is too busy to notice where the children are, only cross they haven’t done their chores.

We all know what happens, it’s on the back cover even if you’ve forgotten the history. But it’s still nerve-wracking reading. ‘Go upstairs,’ you want to tell the grown-ups. ‘Check on your children.’ In the meantime we have the alternate chapters describing Agnes and William’s marriage, William’s ongoing restlessness, his father’s endless displeasure with him, the plans to go to London. There are peripheral characters too. Agnes’s sensible brother and bitter step-mother, the story of Agnes’s own mother, long dead, but who had an affinity with nature, and the healing skills that Agnes herself has inherited.

It’s in the last section of the book that things really come together. We are not waiting for help this time, but for William to return home, urgently sent for to see for the last time his dying child. The passing years, William’s continued absences. How it all comes together is brilliantly done and the ending is stunning. Again you have the immediacy in how O’Farrell brings you into the lives of her characters. We feel what they feel, the sensations coupled with their own internal monologue are so well crafted.

Hamnet is such a beautifully put together story, and the ending so brilliantly done that you finish the book well satisfied. This alone is worth the five stars I’m giving this book. I’m also pleased to report that Maggie O’Farrell has a new book, Land, due out in June.

Book Review: Traitor’s Legacy by S J Parris – a fab new series of historical thrillers set in Elizabethan England

~ Judith ~ Leave a comment

I’ve been a big fan of S J Parris’s Giordano Bruno series of historical thrillers, which follow a heretic priest on the run from Rome, recruited by Queen Elizabeth’s spymaster Francis Walsingham. In this new series S J Parris has shifted the narrative along a decade or so and reintroduced a peripheral figure from the Bruno books as her main character, sleuth and spy. This would be Sophia de Wolfe, now thirty-five and a woman of means, living quietly in London. Queen Elizabeth is in her final years, but the threats to her sovereignty have not gone away, particularly since there is the big question of who will succeed the throne when the queen dies.

Traitor’s Legacy begins with the burial of a body – just a young girl – at a site where a band of players, the Lord Chamberlain’s Men, has just removed its theatre, ready to rebuild on the other side of the Thames. It’s winter, and the dismantling of the theatre happens quietly, undercover of darkness, with a young boy called Badger paid to keep a look out. What Badger also sees, is the two men who hide the girl, as well as the jewelled clasp one of them leaves behind. There are documents with the body, too, written in code.

We flip to Sophia’s home where she is being tutored in the skill of swordsmanship. She wears her specially made duelling breeches, not an outfit any right-minded woman of the age would be seen in, but the canny reader knows they’re going to come in handy later on, along with her skills with the sword. Her session is interrupted by a visit from Thomas Phelippes, an envoy from Robert Cecil, Walsingham’s replacement. He has news of the body, an Agnes Lovell, and Cecil wants to see Sophia immediately. The coded documents are in Sophia’s cypher, from her days as one of Walsingham’s spies.

Thinking her days of espionage long over, Sophia is now tasked with discovering who might have written a warning in her code and left it with the girl’s body. Sophia will have to dig into who might have killed the girl and why, and whether the warning has links to the Queen’s determination to bring the Irish into line. Or something else entirely. Young Agnes was a ward under the guardianship of the powerful North family, and Sir Thomas North and his son had both served in the Irish War. But Agnes’s uncle was a known Catholic sympathiser – so there’s that. And then there’s the theatre company whose site was so convenient to the murderer – so many threads to unravel.

Sophia’s own history will come into play, particularly when the son she gave up for adoption at birth, now a teenage boy and member of the Chamberlain’s Men, becomes accused of the murder. There are threats against Sophia herself, some daring rooftop escapes and more bodies turning up to keep the story humming along. In the background you have Parris’s depth of research which brings Tudor England to life, not just the powerful players at court, such as Cecil and the Duke of Essex, but the ordinary folk – the street kids, like Badger, living off their wits, the servants that know more than they’d like to let on, the women working in brothels. There’s lots of insight into the precarious place of women in all levels of society too, something Sophia understands only too well.

This is such a rich and layered novel, keeping the reader on their toes, with a cast of interesting characters. I loved the scenes in the theatres – the Lord Chamberlain’s Men were Shakespeare’s troupe. But there’s also a rival group, the Admiral’s Men, and their playwright, Anthony Munday – a former spying colleague of Sophia’s who gets involved in the case. There’s some unfinished business for Sophia to sort out with both her son and with Munday – so plenty of interesting threads as the series continues.

I was delighted to listen to this as an audiobook read by Kristin Atherton, who does all the voices so well, it’s hard to believe they’re all the same narrator. And I’m also delighted that the next book in the series, Rebel’s Gambit, is out in May. Traitor’s Legacy is a five-star read from me.

Book Review: Belgrave Road by Manish Chauhan – an engrossing novel about love across the cultural divide

~ Judith ~ 2 Comments

This debut novel describes the immigrant experience from two quite different points of view. It begins with Mira’s arrival from India to make a new life in Leicester with her husband. She’s twenty-three, and this is an arranged marriage. In itself this would be fascinating for a reader from a culture where arranged marriages, apart from those on reality TV, don’t really happen. What can it be like to suddenly share a bed, a home, a life with someone you hardly know? Mira has to remain married to Rajiv for five years to stay in England, if that’s what she wants. Somehow you get the feeling though, there’s no turning back – that she could never face returning home to India to be a disappointment to her parents.

Mira had hoped she could use her beauty therapy diploma to start her own business – she’s bright and ambitious – but beauty therapists are a dime a dozen in this part of Leicester, an area that is surprisingly full of Indian people, Indian shops, Indian food outlets. It could even be a lot like home, if only it wasn’t so cold. An opportunity arises for Mira to work in the kitchens of a sweet shop, where she makes friends with the other workers and where, across the yard, she first sees Tahliil.

Tahliil is a young man who has recently had a harrowing journey from Somalia with his sister and lives with his mother in a tiny flat. He’s not legally allowed to work, has not even registered as an asylum seeker when we first meet him, but picks up several part-time jobs, paid in cash, no questions asked. He’s diligent and well-mannered, so is kept on. It’s at the cash-and-carry where he shifts stock, sometimes delivering grocery items to the sweet shop next door, where he meets Mira.

Mira begins to question her marriage. Rajiv is older and has a history with a woman who secretly texts him, and friends he sees without Mira. So it’s easy to fall into a friendship, and then something more with Tahliil. The story includes Tahliil’s struggles as an asylum seeker, the lengthy wait for his paperwork to go through, the worry that he could be sent home. The fact that he’s Muslim means any relationship with Mira would be unacceptable to his family.

This is such a compelling novel, beautifully written, with its two very different characters, who find themselves in desperate situations. Perhaps an older version of themselves would think twice, but when you’re in your twenties it’s so easy to let your heart hold sway. And why wouldn’t they? They’ve both travelled so far. Why would they settle for anything less than a life lived on their own terms? As a reader you can’t help thinking of the roadblocks, and whether each has the fortitude for the journey ahead of them if they want to be together. This drives the story and keeps you engrossed to the end.

Other characters have their struggles too. Mira’s mother-in-law seems to be eternally optimistic rather than seeing the reality of what’s going on with her family, with her marriage. Rajiv’s cousin Rupal is in a same-sex relationship she’s completely committed to, but struggles to formalise before her family. Tahliil works for an old man who hardly ever sees his daughter, and is estranged from his son.

I found the setting of Leicester, with its huge immigrant population, quite fascinating, a place that must seem cold and physically inhospitable to those from warmer climates, and yet which offers opportunities and safety. Belgrave Road is a brilliant story, and Manish Chauhan really gets into the heads of his characters, making their lives believable. If you want to understand what makes people leave their country for new beginnings in the West and the struggles they face, this is well worth reading – a five-star read from me.

I read Belgrave Road courtesy of Netgalley and Faber & Faber (UK). The book is due for release on 29 January.

Book Review: Raising Hare by Chloe Dalton – the best-selling memoir about the unexpected bond between the writer and a wild animal

~ Judith ~ Leave a comment

I don’t often read non-fiction, preferring to immerse myself in the art of the story, the development of characters, atmosphere and mood. But Raising Hare has been such a popular hit, I was intrigued.

It begins during lockdown, when the author leaves her busy life in the city for a rural retreat, an old converted barn surrounded by farmland and woods. It’s wintertime when, out on a walk, she comes across a baby leveret sitting in the road – potential fodder for hawks or foxes, or in danger of being crushed between vehicle wheels. Chloe knows a thing or two about wildlife – her mother has a way with animals – and so realises she should leave it alone, that if she picks it up to put it somewhere safer, it’s mother will smell Chloe on the leveret and abandon it.

But returning from her walk, hours later, the leveret is still there, so against her better judgement, Chloe takes it in. The events that follow are fascinating as she learns how to care for the animal, accommodating it into her busy life as the lockdown ends and normal life is expected to take place again. You learn a lot about hares – how endangered they are in England, but also considered a pest by farmers and so aren’t protected by law with a dedicated hunting season. They’re also not typically thought to be easy to befriend, so Chloe’s experiences are enthralling.

The leveret was particular in its tastes. A ripe strawberry left out to tempt it was disregarded. But it loved an occasional raspberry. The sticky, squishy sound of a hare eating a raspberry has to be heard to be believed. Since hares don’t use their paws to help them eat, in the way that dogs or parrots grip their food at times to gain a better purchase, it would pick up the thimble-shaped cone in its mouth by one edge and slowly mash its jaws, drawing it in bead by bead while the raspberry bobbed up and down in front of its nose. There was something serious, almost ponderous, in the slow and methodical manner in which the leveret ate a berry.

Although Chloe doesn’t try to domesticate or keep the hare once it is ready to take care of itself, it still visits, barging in through its specially made door, making itself at home, quite some time later. It’s interesting to read about the effect on Chloe of having an animal, particularly a wild animal, in her life. How she changes from living for her work, which often takes her on special assignments overseas, with the thrill of new environments and political landscapes. How the hare makes her rethink what she wants from life, her growing fondness for the animal, and how it makes her so much more aware of the nature around her, not just animals, but also vegetation and seasons.

I came away from the book wishing the very best for the survival of the hare Chloe Dalton takes in, but also really feeling for the author. Her awakened awareness regarding how we treat the natural environment and her wanting to be a spokesperson for change, particularly in the way it’s always open season for hare shooting, but also how we farm and take so much from the landscape at the cost of lives we cannot see. But you can’t help but feel that with ever diminishing habitats, hares are up against it. Brilliantly written, Raising Hare was such an engaging read, with a ton of emotional heft, I know it will stay with me for a long time. So it’s a five-star read from me.

Book Review: The Elopement by Gill Hornby – an engaging story inspired by Jane Austen’s family

~ Judith ~ 1 Comment

I’d already enjoyed Gill Hornby’s earlier book, Miss Austen, a novel about Cassandra, Jane Austen’s sister. But there’s obviously a lot more to tell, for the Austen’s are an interesting bunch. The Elopement is the third book about the family by Hornby, picking up their story with Fanny Knight, Jane Austen’s favourite niece, and Mary Dorothea, Fanny’s step-daughter.

This is a story of country life among the gentry in the early 1800s, large families and the rocky path to love. It begins with Fanny, in her late twenties, feeling as if she has missed the marriage boat, having spent many years mothering her younger brothers and sisters. When she is courted by an older neighbour, the politically ambitious Sir Edward Knatchbull, she accepts his hand.

Married life at Hatch, the Knatchbull manor house, includes five motherless children but somehow Fanny never quite takes a shine to the Knatchbull offspring, particularly the eldest, Mary Dorothea, the only girl. The boys get sent off to school from a young age, so are barely there. Fanny and Sir Edward contrive to have Mary educated with Fanny’s younger siblings at Godmersham Park, where Mary Dorothea becomes a firm favourite.

The story flips mostly between the two female characters: Fanny’s marriage to the pompous, devout and domineering Sir Edward, with whom she finds contentment, her avoidance of maternal responsibility for his children, her own struggles to be a mother; and Mary Dorothea, who seems like two – people quietly inoffensive with Fanny, and fun-loving and gossipy with Fanny’s sisters, particularly Cassie. As Mary and Cassie grow up, they bloom and go to balls – there’s a hint of a Jane Austen novel here, with suitors appearing in the wings. But no one is ever good enough to please everybody, particularly parents.

Sir Edward finds the young male Knights flippant and too fun-loving, particularly the eldest, Ned. So of course, Mary finds them charming, Ned in particular. The story follows the problems of making a match agreed on by the girls’ families. Not just Mary and Cassie but also Marianne, who ends up stepping in as a mother figure for her younger siblings after Fanny’s marriage.

Of course, when hunting or killing or hitting a thing, Ned moved like quicksilver. In the world beyond sport, though, he knew no sense of urgency and was rarely disturbed. Yet here he was, eschewing all greetings – Fanny prayed Sir Edward would opt, just on this one occasion to not take offence – and – what was this? – spluttering about yet another drama of Marianne’s making.
‘A proposal?’ Fanny fell back into the depths of the worn leather sofa. ‘A proposal from whom, might one ask?’
It was to her eternal credit that Fanny’s first thought was given not to Godermersham’s domestic arrangements and her own convenience, but that the gentleman’s identity did, in fact, take priority.
‘Billington,’ she repeated, once informed. ‘Billington?‘ Now she was thoroughly mystified. ‘But, Ned dearest,’ she explained in her patient voice, ‘we have no knowledge of any Mr Billington.’ As if that put an end to the matter.

It all gets a bit fraught for the young couple at the centre of the story, Sir Edward remaining intransigent, while Fanny is caught in the middle. A dutiful wife, she’s also strangely unaware of the secret trysts going on under her nose. You want to like Fanny, who means well, but it’s hard to see in her the niece of Jane Austen. She must have been brought up on the famous stories, and the recurring theme of the difficult path to love. Couldn’t she have a little more sympathy? More mettle?

I enjoyed The Elopement, but although the story is full of drama and conflict, the plot is a little slow-moving at times, sticking closely, it would seem, to events noted in Fanny’s collection of diaries. But you do get a good sense of the time, particularly of a woman’s lot; whether as wife, unmarried and useful relative, or as a mother. Hornby notes that giving birth was like Russian roulette, with dying in childbirth a distinct possibility even after a number of healthy births. The Austen’s were particularly fecund, producing endless large families – ample opportunity for losing a mother.

With the recent Jane Austen commemorations – 250 years since Jane Austen’s birth on 16 December – it was a good time to revisit her world. I enjoyed meeting Cassandra Austen again, still stepping in with wisdom and caregiving, an ageing mother at home, nieces requiring guidance, to say nothing of visits to the deserving poor. Gill Hornby does a brilliant job of capturing the tone of an Austen novel, and the book has the ring of authenticity, reflecting solid research. I’ve still Godmersham Park to read by Hornby, and wonder if there will be more Austen stories to look forward to after that. The Elopement is a four-star read from me.

Book Review: June in the Garden by Eleanor Wilde – a heartwarming story with a memorable protagonist

~ Judith ~ Leave a comment

I’d heard such a lot of good things about this novel, particularly about the wonderful character of June Wilson – her unique point of view, her determination. June in the Garden is told from June’s perspective, describing the weeks following the death of her mother and her bid to find her biological father. At 22, she is bright and has a good eye for details, but is unable to filter out what matters or socialise well with others. When things are stressful, everything goes dark, and she loses it, not always able to remember what happened afterwards.

What June is really good at is gardening. So when her social worker tells her she must leave her council house in Scotland and offers her a bleak flat without a garden, or a hostel, June packs a bag and heads for the station. A letter with an address is all she has to go on, but there will be a few missteps along the way, including a ride in a police car, before she finally makes it to her father’s Notting Hill address. She’s not exactly welcomed here, but sneaks back to take up residence in the garden shed. Here at least she has an opportunity to be in her element – a rambling, if poorly maintained, garden.

The story follows June’s little adventures as she settles in and makes do with very little, the people she meets, including her young stepbrother and his dog, and her attempts to understand the common interactions of others, but which are often beguiling to June. Slowly she begins to make sense of this change in her life, particularly how things stand for her father and his second family. Will she ever win them over?

It all adds up to a charming feel-good story, with a brilliant neurodiverse character. We get June’s need for routine, her regimen of meals at a particular time each day, part of what keeps that crippling anxiety at bay. June still misses her mother, so she’s dealing with grief as well. But Mother is never far away, her urn safely in her bag or on a shelf in the shed. I loved her developing relationship with her stepbrother, twelve-year-old Henry, a sad and lonely boy, but someone she has to learn to trust.

We sit outside the house watching the policemen drive away. Mrs Wilson – not the Mrs Wilson that is my mother, but another one – is inside, in the living room, hovering near the window, staring at us. Mr Wilson is sitting on the doorstep beside me, gazing out past the red rose bushes and the copper-rusted gate to the street lined with dawn redwood trees and pink cherry blossoms. He is still very pale.
After a heated back and forth between the officers and my relatives of 16 Lansdowne Road, it was finally decided that no further action would be taken with regard to the ‘train station incident’. It was concluded that it was a ‘family matter’.
Family.
A word that has always sounded very strange to me. I looked it up once in a dictionary, which defined it as ‘descendants of a common ancestor‘. I am still unable to ascertain who this common ancestor of ours is.

But while the book is sympathetic and sensitive, it is not at all morose because June is such a triumph, so determined and honest. This adds to the humour of the story – not that we are laughing at June, but more at the way other people obfuscate, hiding their motives and feelings behind a facade of manners. June just blows a hole right through all that. And then there’s the gardens, particularly the flowers that June knows such a lot about. She’s got that botanical encyclopaedia with her for reference which she puts to good use.

If you feel like a charming, feel-good read, or have ever secretly thought a garden shed would be a nice place to live (with a few modifications, of course), June in the Garden might just be the thing. It’s a four-star read from me.

Book Review: The Wolf Tree by Laura McCluskey – a did he fall or was he pushed, Scottish Noir mystery

~ Judith ~ 1 Comment

An island can provide just as much of a locked-room mystery as one in any building, particularly when it’s a remote island like Eilean Eadar, a wild and isolated spot off the West Coast of Scotland. In The Wolf Tree, we are in the shoes of DI Georgina (George) Lennox, who is just getting back to work after an attack that left her badly injured. This new case is supposed to be a box-ticking exercise, and she’s here along with her partner DI Richie Stewart to sign off on a probable suicide – a case to ease George back to work gently.

Of course, the reader knows that isn’t going to happen and things look problematic from the start. Even the boat crossing is wild and treacherous, the weather when they arrive, wet and freezing, the accommodation inconveniently at some distance from the little township. The two cops settle in, George doing her best to disguise from her older colleague and mentor her dependency on painkillers. The island has had to manage without a police presence, without a doctor, a school or social services of any kind for so long, so it isn’t surprising that the locals have learned to manage everything themselves. So they’re understandably reluctant to accept the interference of two cops from Glasgow.

Then there’s the case. Young Alan Ferguson, eighteen and busy applying for places at universities, had supposedly flung himself off the top of the island’s lighthouse. Alan was handsome and amiable, the only child of a widow, but she puts up a wall of animosity when George and Richie show up to ask questions. Hot on their tails, the priest arrives – a hearty, gregarious man, keen to help oil the wheels of the interview. The islanders, like Alan’s mother, are hostile towards mainlanders. It’s only the priest and the postmistress who are welcoming, or is that just nosiness?

People think that death by drowning would be peaceful. But if there is any truth to that, it’s a peace that comes after the worst thirty seconds of your life. And it’s a fate that, until today, George Lennox never considered might befall her.
With her jaw clenched against both the biting cold and sudden dips, George stands on the heaving deck of the police launch; constricted by the bulk of an orange life vest, a duffel bag over her shoulder. She clutches a leather briefcase in one hand, the slick railing with the other. The weather has changed dramatically in the last few hours. The soft white clouds that farewelled her on Skye have turned black and heavy, and the waves that claw at her feet are splintered iron, threatening to drag her down all twelve thousand feet to the sunless floor of the North Atlantic Ocean.

Wariness towards incomers goes way back – the islanders had seen off the Protestant Reformation which turned the other western isles and much of Scotland. But Eadar is still staunchly Catholic. Or is it? What is the strange design that adorns the lintels of many of the houses, and why is George warned not to go anywhere near the woods. Pagan beliefs, mythology and superstition seem to hover on the fringes of everyday life. Then there’s the sound of howling wolves that disturbs George at night in a place where surely no wolves exist.

At twenty-eight, George is young to be a Detective Inspector, so it’s easy to imagine in her a tenacity her partner, eager to get back home with his family, seems to lack. It’s this tenacity that sees George asking awkward questions that Richie has to smooth over to avoid unpleasant confrontations. What will she have to do to earn the locals trust enough to talk to her? And what of the three lighthouse keepers who disappeared a hundred years ago? Can this mystery possibly have a connection to the death of Alan Ferguson?

It’s hard to determine which is more hostile and dangerous, the weather on Eadar or the people who live there. By the time we get to the end of the book, there are some stunning revelations and some spookily atmospheric scenes. George, in spite of terrible headaches, manages to think on her feet and probe the truth out of people in a case that will shock the whole community and mainlanders alike. She upsets Richie again and again with her disregard for her personal safety, and this looks unlikely to change anytime soon.

A first of a series, The Wolf Tree is a suspenseful and entertaining read, promising more tricky investigations for our two very different DIs. The Cursed Road is due for publication early next year. I particularly enjoyed the audiobook version of The Wolf Tree, which was read by Kirsty Cox. It’s a four-star read from me.

Book Review: The Names by Florence Knapp – a ‘sliding doors’ novel describing one character across three possible lives

~ Judith ~ 2 Comments

I like a book that takes you on a different kind of journey, so that you don’t quite know what to expect next. You’re not always looking out for plot points, twists or turning points. The Names is the story of a baby boy, born to Cora and Gordon and the question of his name. His father insists he must be called Gordon, like him and his father before him, both doctors and both domineering men. But Cora would prefer Julian, an altogether gentler sounding name, while the baby’s older sister, Maia, thinks he should be Bear.

We get three different stories – one for Bear, another for Julian and the last for Gordon, showing the man he becomes, a new chapter for every seven years. But it’s also the story of Cora and the abuse she suffers at the hands of her husband. Each story offers a different set of outcomes, and the different effects this has on each of our core characters, Cora, Maia and Bear/Julian/Gordon.

It’s an interesting concept which keeps you hooked on the story, wondering what is going to happen next. I found I was enjoying one version of B/J/G more than another for one chapter, but this would be different in the next. To start with Bear wasn’t really all that interesting – he’s so confident, like his name, likeable and successful. But Florence Knapp makes sure there are interesting things that happen so that life isn’t always plain sailing.

Julian is damaged by what happens to him, and struggles to open up. He worries he’ll be like his father, that he has that same ability to hurt, and avoids relationships. Gordon is also damaged by his childhood and growing up, and learns things the hard way. He was difficult to read about to start with, but in the end I felt he was the most interesting of the three. You feel for all of them in different ways. Alongside the young man is his relationship with his sister, who is also going through some soul searching. What is it like to grow up with a parent who is capable of such violence? To what extent do you also inherit that gene?

But it was Cora who really has your sympathy. In one story, the author captures the manipulation, control and violence the elder Gordon inflicts on her, which makes for grim reading. The way it goes on through the years and how her husband shuts down her chances to live her own life, to be her own person. The hopelessness and acquiescence. I found I desperately wanted to stay with Cora’s story to see if she will make it out alive.

And when she speaks, she hears herself as he will: pathetic, weak.
‘I went to register the birth like you asked, and I – I hope you won’t mind, but I’ve called him something else. Not Gordon. You know I’ve never really wanted to call him that and I – I -‘
She stops because he hasn’t blinked; his eyes haven’t left her face. And this part, it’s like someone with a fear of heights, someone at the top of a ladder, so sure they’re about to fall, they have the impulse to jump and get it over with. It takes all her strength not to sink to his feet and let him kick her, to not even try to escape its inevitability, but to submit, because this anticipation only delays what she knows is coming.

In the background there are other characters coming into the picture, as each starts to build their own life, and grows their family. There are some interesting descriptions of the work they do, particularly the work of silversmithing and archaeology. The Names would make great fodder for book groups and I will be interested to see what Florence Knapp writes next – a more traditionally plotted story, or something different again. The Names is an engaging debut and a four-star read from me.

Book Review: The Red Shore by William Shore – an atmospheric new mystery series set on the Devon coast

~ Judith ~ 2 Comments

William Shaw’s a well-regarded author of detective fiction; you may already have come across his Breen & Tozer, and Alexandra Cupidi series. In The Red Shore we meet London detective, Eden Driscoll, who gets a phone call out of the blue from Devon and Cornwall Police informing him that his sister is missing and her son taken into care. His understanding boss tells Eden to take as much time as he needs to sort things out. Eden thinks he’ll be back in a day or two, he’s working on an important case after all.

Eden hasn’t seen his sister Apple in over a decade, not since he ran away from his family at the age of fifteen. He felt bad about leaving his mother with Apple when his father died. But parenting was never their strong point, Dad being an overbearing man, his mother acquiescing too readily with his ambitions for a nomadic hippy lifestyle. Because of all this, Eden has never wanted a family of his own, doesn’t see himself settling down at all, let alone being a dad. He cringes from the idea of being the guardian of his nine-year-old nephew, Finn, a boy he never knew existed.

All this is an interesting story in itself, but layered on top is the mystery of what has happened to Apple. Eden’s sister, was an experienced sailor who seems to have gone overboard from her boat, the Calliope. Even more unlikely is the idea that she would have locked Finn in the cabin. When Eden asks for a look at the boat, DS Mike Sweet is sceptical when Eden assumes the presence of two recently used wine glasses suggests another person may have been on board. Sweet’s a nice chap, but seems inclined to go for easy options – suicide or an accident being the most likely scenarios.

Eden discovers that Apple was a loving mother, but also something of an eco-warrior, which got her into trouble from time to time. The reader can’t help thinking that she’s found out something about someone that led to her death. Guilt and a desire to learn more about his sister’s last days see Eden staying around, delving into Apple’s life. He has the help of Molly, Apple’s good friend who is something of a loose canon herself. Apple seems not to have left any kind of digital footprint – she was opposed to cell-towers and paranoid about identity theft via the Internet. But even Apple had a phone, which must have got lost when she disappeared.

So tracing the Apple’s movements will take a different kind of investigating. Molly’s irritating but she’s the only one who takes Eden seriously. There’s also Bisi, the social worker who is hoping Eden will find it in himself to be a father to Finn. Uncle and nephew don’t hit it off at first, but as Eden makes more of an effort, the idea that he could parent the boy starts to be a possibility, just as the trouble he gets into over his investigations causes alarm bells to go off with social services. This creates some terrific tension and emotional pull for the story, which also weaves in scenes from Eden’s childhood.

He went to the window and was shocked to see the familiar white hull of a sailing boat, moored on a pontoon just off the beach.
He blinked. It was Calliope. She had not been there yesterday.
He grabbed his trousers.
Calliope had been their parents’ yacht – their father’s really. Apple and Eden had lived in that 32-foot boat for almost two years. Eden had hated it, and, looking at it, he realised he still did.
Clearly Apple had not felt the same way about it. Seeing it on the news bulletins, rolling in the waves, loose boom crossing from side to side across the cockpit as it drifted, had been one thing. Seeing it here, right outside the window, was another.

On top of all this, you’ve got a fabulous setting. Apple’s cottage is right on the estuary of the seaside town of Teignmouth, with a living room that opens out onto a beach. You’ve got lots of boating going on, adventures at sea, and the special vibe seaside towns have, with busy cafés and pubs catering to tourists and weekenders. It all adds up to a very satisfying read, with a plot that has you racing through the pages as Eden’s discoveries take him towards increasing danger, not only personally, but also for Finn.

I was very happy to discover this book recently, a new series I imagine will appeal to readers of Ann Cleeves’s books. I can’t wait for the next book featuring Eden Driscoll to find out if he settles in to a new life on the Devon coast. The Burning Tide is due for release next July. The Red Shore is a four-star read from me.