Book review: Report for Murder by Val McDermid

Report for Murder, the first in the Lindsay Gordon series - and McDermid's first ever book - was published in 1987, and I must have read it around then or not long after. (The Women's Press crime imprint, I believe.) Obviously, that's a long time ago, and I don't remember much if anything about it. When it popped up on NetGalley, I was keen to give it a reread and see what, if anything, I did recall.

This new HarperCollins edition has an introduction by Val in which she talks about her literary and life influences, and how she came to create the character of Lindsay (who's not Val, but also is not a million miles away from Val).

Anyway, the plot... Self-proclaimed cynical socialist lesbian feminist journalist, Lindsay Gordon, has serious reservations about the job she's been asked to do by her old friend, Paddy Callaghan. Paddy is a housemistress at a girls' boarding school, which is under threat from developers and in desperate need of fundraising. Lindsay's agreed to write a piece about the fundraising programme, which includes a performance from celebrated cellist Lorna Smith-Couper, one of the school's old girls. 

Of course, she's not expecting to be caught up in a murder almost as soon as she arrives at the school. Nor is she expecting to meet - and be instantly smitten by - the very attractive Cordelia Brown, another old girl who's now a successful writer...

It seems like just about everybody has a motive for murder, and when an arrest is made, Lindsay is compelled to start doing some digging.

It's dated a fair bit after fortyish years - there's a lot of smoking, and I don't think I've heard anyone say "right-on" in decades. (The modern equivalent would be "woke".) Lindsay dictates her copy over the phone. More concerningly, a portrayal of a teacher-student relationship is perhaps overly sympathetic to the teacher. (Being a closeted lesbian doesn't make it okay. Everyone here blames the girl, but no teacher should be sleeping with a pupil half her age, even if she is lonely.)

McDermid worked as a journalist in the eighties, so she certainly knows what she's talking about in that regard. It's interesting to see how Lindsay squares her own values with writing for the not-exactly-feminist tabloid press, and how she deals with having to turn off her emotions to do her job. 

A nostalgic read, groundbreaking in its way, and the girls' school setting is fun, but McDermid would go on to write better things. 

Book review: The Killer Question by Janice Hallett

I've liked all of Janice Hallett's books, but I think The Killer Question is my new favourite. (The Twyford Code takes second place.)

Like all Janice's books, the story is told through "documentary evidence" - emails, text messages, WhatsApp group chats, transcripts of recordings, pub quiz results (in this case), etc. It centres around Sue and Mal Eastwood, landlords of The Case is Altered. (It seemed an unusual name for a pub, but apparently there are indeed pubs called this.) And, more specifically, their weekly quiz, which some people take very, VERY seriously. When a new team, the mysterious Shadow Knights, turn up and start winning everything, people are not happy. Surely they're cheating, but how?

We know something's gone badly amiss, because there's a framing device of Sue and Mal's nephew Dominic Eastwood approaching first Netflix, then a production company, proposing a true crime documentary about them.

This was a super fun, satisfyingly clever read. The interplay between the quiz teams, the various pub landlords and their responses to one-star reviews, the glimpses of Mal and Sue's past profession, are all highly entertaining and, in some cases, intriguingly baffling. There are lots of surprises - large and small - along the way, and they're all fully justified. (I'm quite proud of myself for picking up on a few clues, though I'm sure there were many I missed.)

All the many characters emerge so clearly through their communications. Andrew, whose existential despair about his job is politely ignored by all; homeless young Fiona, whose messages eschew capital letters or, mostly, actual words; the landlords of other pubs in the group, who all have their quirks (the AGM must have been fun); Cloud and Wind, who live on a houseboat called The Whittling Vegan and make decisions based on the advice of a spirit guide; and so on. 

Highly recommended!

Agatha Christie in publication order #9: The Mystery of the Blue Train

First published: 1928. Christie's ninth book, eighth novel, and sixth featuring Poirot. Again, her life wasn't in the best place during its writing - she was still deeply affected by the breakup of her marriage and the death of her mother, and reportedly considered The Mystery of the Blue Train to be her least favourite of her books. 

Title: Pretty standard. Le Train Bleu was a French luxury night express train, favoured by the rich and famous, which operated from 1886 to 2003 between Calais and the French Riviera (thank you, Wikipedia).

Plot: It's a bit of an odd one. Numerous characters are introduced in the first part of the book, not all of whom will be ever mentioned again. First we're in the backstreets of Paris where an exchange of goods is taking place, then meeting a Greek antique dealer and a mysterious man with white hair known as M. le Marquis, then at the Savoy with a rich American (Christie's Americans are always rich), his daughter Ruth and her unsatisfactory husband. Then suddenly we're in St Mary Mead with Katherine Grey (but Miss Marple is nowhere to be seen). Then we're in the French Riviera with Lady Tamplin, her fourth husband and her daughter Lenox. (An unusual name, I thought. Ruth's husband is named "Derek", which I didn't know was popular in the 1920s.)

The eponymous Blue Train doesn't appear till around a quarter of the way through - neither does (the allegedly now retired) Poirot. To be honest, I forgot he was supposed to be in it for ages, though once he turns up, he does play a large role. Hastings is absent and unmentioned, aside from one passing reference.

Once all these disparate elements started coming together, I quite enjoyed it. Katherine is our heroine: a formerly penniless companion who has come into money, an intelligent and reflective young woman whose calm grey eyes seem particularly alluring to the various men she meets. An encounter on the Blue Train draws her into murder and mystery. 

The plot - jewel theft, murder, various comings and goings on the train - is a little complicated. I did suspect one person, but was still surprised when the identity of the "Marquis" was revealed.

There are hints of romance for certain characters, but it was impossible to predict exactly how it would turn out.

Poirot-isms: His avuncular relationship with Katherine is quite sweet. He's as self-effacing as ever, of course:

    "I am Hercule Poirot."

    "Yes, Monsieur?"

    "You do not know the name?"

    "I have never heard it."

    "Permit me to say that you have been badly educated. It is the name of one of the great ones of this world."

Acceptable in the 20s? I don't think there's anything too jarring. Some national stereotypes and unnecessary references to people being Jewish, but nothing majorly offensive. 

I enjoyed this description of Lady Tamplin's dopily amiable fourth husband, known as "Chubby":

    "He was one of those staunch patriotic Britons who, having made a portion of a foreign country their own, strongly resent the original inhabitants of it." 

Plus que change, etc.

 

Americans with Silly Names Watch: None. Rufus Van Aldin is this book's resident American millionaire, but his name isn't particularly ludicrous. There's a Frenchman called Armand de la Roche, which is rather marvellous. And the aforementioned Lenox Tamplin, but she's not American. 

Verdict: I liked it better than The Big Four, which isn't saying much. Christie herself deemed it her least favourite story, but I think there are more deserving candidates for the dubious accolade of her worst. Interesting to get an early reference to St Mary Mead - Christie clearly (and rightly) liked the name well enough to adopt it for Miss Marple's village. (It also marks the first appearance of Poirot's valet, George, or "Georges" as he calls him.)

Up next: The Seven Dials Mystery

Agatha Christie in publication order #8 : The Big Four

First published: 1927. Christie's eighth book, seventh novel, and fifth outing for Poirot.

Title: Moderately intriguing, I suppose. Who or what are the Big Four?

Agatha wasn't having a happy time during the writing and publication of this - reeling from both the death of her mother and the breakdown of her marriage due to her husband's infidelity. The book itself came out just a few weeks after her famous disappearance. 

I've been putting off reading it for a while, because I don't have especially fond memories of it (actually I barely have any memories of it apart from it being a drag to get through) and I'm really not keen on this particular species of Christie (even though it does in this case have Poirot in it, which is a minor saving grace). It's another one where there's a shadowy figure (or four, in this case) of extraordinary power behind all manner of world unrest, revolutions, etc. (Lenin and Trotsky, for instance, are "mere puppets whose every action was dictated by another's brain".) 

"Oh come," [protests Hastings], "isn't that a bit far-fetched?"

For once, I'm with the Captain on this one.

Anyway, Hastings is back from South America after eighteen months to carry out some unspecified business, and looks up his old friend Poirot. (His wife is left behind in Argentina for several months, so I'm not sure how she feels about that.) Following a rapturous welcome from Poirot, the two old friends are almost immediately caught up in danger and adventure, with the number four continually popping up right, left and centre.

It does feature Hastings briefly going undercover in the household of an American millionaire, which is fun. Ryland’s household includes a valet called Deaves with an “irreproachable manner”, surely a nod to the ineffable PG Wodehouse, whose similarly irreproachably-mannered and similarly-named Jeeves had been appearing in short stories for a number of years at this point. 

Oh, and Poirot is dead at one point. He has a funeral and everything.

Poirot-isms 

"But for my quick eyes, the eyes of a cat, Hercule Poirot might now be crushed out of existence - a terrible calamity for the world. And you too, mon ami - though that would not be such a national catastrophe."

"We are dealing with the second greatest brain in the world." [No need to ask who the first greatest is, of course.]

Americans with Silly Names Watch: "Richest man in the world" Abe Ryland is known as the American Soap King, but his actual name isn't particularly silly.

Acceptable in the 20s? The less said about the representation of Chinese people here, the better. Hastings’ comment that he can’t tell one “Chinaman” from another is in fact one of the less offensive stereotypes here, which probably tells you everything you need to know.

Hastings has some unreconstructed views on women scientists:

"It has always seemed to me so extraordinary that a woman should go so far in the scientific world. I should have thought a purely masculine brain was needed for such work."

But as the woman in question is described by Poirot and others as an incredible genius, it’s clear the Captain is in the minority here and his views on this, at least, probably don’t reflect the author’s.

Final verdict

Slightly more enjoyable than I expected, after detesting The Secret of Chimneys so much. It feels more like a Tommy and Tuppence than a Poirot, but he’s probably its saving grace.

Next up: The Mystery of the Blue Train

Book review: Mad Mabel by Sally Hepworth

Cover yet to come!

A new Sally Hepworth novel has to rocket straight to the top of my reading list – she’s a great storyteller.

Eighty-one year old Elsie Mabel Fitzpatrick lives a quietish life on Kenny Lane, but what her neighbours don’t generally know is that Elsie was once the notorious Mabel Waller – the youngest person in Australia ever to be imprisoned for murder. Dubbed “Mad Mabel” from an early age, bodies piled up around her throughout her childhood.

From the outset, when Elsie/Mabel tells us she’s always liked to think she was special, because elderly women and little girls aren’t expected to commit murder, we’re led down a path of thinking she’s a bit of a monster. She’s certainly not particularly nice to her neighbours, including a little girl determined to befriend her. Only her old friend, Daphne, sees a different side of her.

However, Mabel’s real story, once it gradually unfolds – in past and in present – is a bit different from the one the public has grown up with. From a friendless child to a lonely teenager and beyond, is Mabel really the villain of her story?

There are some great characters here – as well as Mabel herself there’s persistent young Persephone and her mum Roxanne, Aldi-obsessed neighbour Peter (“Pete the Greek”), and in the past, the magnificent Cess and Ness (Cecily and Vanessa).

I was left with a few unanswered questions, mainly around Mabel’s father, but that’s okay.

The ending is both shocking and moving.

Mad Mabel was an absolutely cracking read which I can highly recommend. My only complaint is that it wasn’t long enough! Thanks for the opportunity to read and review.

Book review: Fallout by Eleanor Anstruther

This was a blast from the past. I've actually been to Greenham - a few years later than Bridget and co (I'm a little younger), but still. A lot of this rang true, though I wasn't there for long.

Fifteen-year-old Bridget - no friends, deeply uncomfortable in her own body, feeling strongly that nobody at home understands her - finds a new world opening up when she forges a parental note to accompany her teacher and others to Greenham. A dirty, muddy, often dangerous new world, granted, but one she takes to with alacrity.

After all, what's home got to offer? Her father Ray, busy building a fallout shelter in the downstairs loo, regards the Greenham women with contempt. Her dinner lady mother Janet, beset by domestic duties, is viewed by her daughter as boring and stupid. Little brother Paul is just there.

Bridget's actions, though, will detonate a bomb under her family life, bringing secrets into the open and changing lives irrevocably.

The narrative follows not only Bridget's story, but those of several other women who spend time at the camp. None of these characters are really there because of the missiles, which is not to say they don't care. Bridget is seeking independence and identity, community and belonging. Art teacher Annabel is seeking a lover. Middle-class mother of five Kate, wanting a safe world for her children to grow up in, is perhaps most driven by the cause, but is also seeking a life beyond domesticity. Janet - well, Janet is first seeking her daughter, and later exploring her own horizons.

While Ray's story is a sad one and should certainly provoke our sympathy, I'm not entirely sure it belongs here (and the ending is perhaps a little too rose-tinted).

A great read, which will resonate with those who lived through the era and inform those who didn't.

High and Low by Amanda Craig

I love Amanda Craig's books, but this did take a little while to get into. There are a lot of characters, many of them writers, many of them not very nice. Once it got going, though, it was riveting.

Tensions in this very mixed part of North London are running high, and when they become focused on a hostel for asylum seekers, things start to boil over. Violence, rioting and looting suddenly controls the streets and shops of the neighbourhood. A disparate group of people - writers, and others - are trapped inside a cafe. Meanwhile a young boy, Zahi, is running away from big trouble....

Amanda does a careful job of representing - non-violent - views on both sides of the "asylum seekers" issue, avoiding any temptation to demonise. 

She's great at the state-of-the-nation stuff, but there's also a lot in here about writing and the writer's life. Or death, in some instances....

Amanda's novels are all interlinked to some extent and I've resolved to read them all in order from the beginning - I've already started her first, Foreign Bodies. I know some of the characters in High and Low have featured before - at least one of them in aforementioned Foreign Bodies. 

Excellent read.

Please Help Me by Gytha Lodge

Wow - this was an absolutely cracking read! I loved it.

Fourteen year old Sadie, on holiday with her family in Cyprus, spends her days crushing on an attractive lifeguard, resenting having to look after her little brother, and wishing something dramatic would happen. Then it does - she gets a message from an unknown girl asking for help. The girl has been abducted, she says, and the people she is with aren't really her parents.

Meanwhile, detective inspector Amanda is also holidaying there with her young son, Otis. When the police become involved - including abduction specialist Zak, with whom Amanda has a personal history - she soon finds herself also deeply involved in the case, as the police race to identify who the girl could be. 

There's not a lot of great parenting on show - I felt badly for many of these girls. The ending was emotional, though, and I did have a tear in my eye. 

There are some great women characters - Mariliza the lifeguard, military police officer Sona, and Amanda herself are all thoroughly badass characters. Sadie is a believable teenage girl - opinionated, judgy of adults, but basically very awesome and no doubt has a great future ahead of her.

The ending seems to leave space for further outings for Amanda and Zak, and I'd definitely be in favour of that.

Highly recommended. Thanks for the opportunity to read and review!

Review: The Couple at the Table by Sophie Hannah

I love Sophie Hannah's writing, and recently undertook a big reread-in-order of all her Charlie Zailer and Simon Waterhouse books, and very enjoyable it was too - I'd forgotten quite how good they are and how much I love Hannah's style of writing and these characters. When I requested The Couple at the Table, I hadn't initially realised it was a Charlie and Simon book - it's quite a while since there's been a new one - so it was an excellent surprise to have the opportunity to catch up with them and the rest - Liv, Gibbs, Sellers (who has an unexpected new girlfriend), etc.

TCatT has a definite Agatha Christie vibe about it - the whole country-house-murder-limited-pool-of-suspects thing, though the "country house" here is actually an expensive resort, where Charlie and Simon spend a few days (Charlie's idea, obv.) which inevitably coincide with a murder; in this instance, of the awful Jane. There's even a Poirot-esque denouement where all the suspects are gathered together by Simon to reveal whodunnit.

Fantastic read, as always, which I thoroughly enjoyed from start to finish.

Anyway, I can't end this review without mentioning the following utterly delightful description of DI Proust, which made me cackle loudly: "an older, bald man with chalky-pale skin and a piercing stare who looks like a malicious frozen lollipop in human form". Kudos, Sophie Hannah. There can be no more perfect description of the man.

Many thanks to the publishers and NetGalley for the opportunity to read and review.

Review: The Interview by Gill Perdue

 

When a fourteen year old girl, Jenny, is found at the side of the road covered in blood and clearly having been assaulted, Specialist Victim Interviewers Laura and Niamh are called in to gently find out what's happened to her.

But Jenny is angry, and traumatised, and she's not talking. Or not in ways that make  much sense. And when further information comes to light - her mother and little brother have suffered critical injuries, and her stepfather is missing - it becomes even more urgent to somehow piece together the truth.

Laura, though, has her own issues - exacerbated since the birth of her young daughter - to deal with, and it's not getting any easier.

The Interview was an engrossing read if not always a comfortable one - inside Jenny's head, and indeed Laura's, are not easy places to be. Jenny tells dark fairy tales to allude to what's happened to her; Laura experiences horrific thoughts and fears and can't push them away. 

(Laura's mental health struggles and experiences with OCD and intrusive thoughts were very well done, I thought - my partner has similar issues, and I appreciated the careful, realistic way this was addressed.)

It was interesting, and believable, that due to bed shortages Jenny has been placed temporarily on an adult psychiatric ward, mainly, it seems, among elderly women with dementia. Jenny's interactions with the nurses and her fellow patients add a further dimension to the story.

The Interview is an excellent if disturbing read which considers the effects of trauma, both long and short term. Abuse - sexual, emotional and physical - is a major theme and readers should be aware of this, as it's very distressing and hard to read at times, but sensitively and responsibly addressed. 

 A superb first novel by Gill Perdue which I can highly recommend. Many thanks to the publishers and NetGalley for the opportunity to read and review an advance copy.

Review: Hidden Depths by Araminta Hall

April 10, 1912: Lily, pregnant and desperately unhappy in her marriage, boards the Titanic with her aristocratic husband Henry and maid Becky, pinning her hopes on a promised reunion with her family in America.

Fellow passenger Lawrence cannot conceive of a future at all after the death of his beloved wife Cissy, despite his young son back in Britain.

As the voyage progresses, can Lawrence, sunk in misery, find the strength and motivation to help a woman desperately in need, as his wife would have insisted he do? Can Lily, indeed, find a way to help herself? And what in fact is really going on between the newly distant Becky, Henry, and the very unpleasant Dr Henderson?

The story is deeply rooted in a righteous anger at the constrictions of women's lives and the abuse that those social conditions could render invisible and allow to flourish. Lily feels and indeed is horrifyingly trapped, her experience contrasting with that of Lawrence's late wife, a warrior for women's rights. 

Of course, as we all know, the Titanic will never reach New York. But the disaster - as well and accurately written here as it is - takes up relatively little of the story as a whole, indeed I briefly forgot at times which ship the characters were aboard. When it does come, it is movingly written and believable. 

I absolutely loved this book, which will stay in my mind for a long time. And the author's note at the end, in which she discusses her inspiration for the story, blew my mind. Do not omit to read!

Thank you to the publishers and NetGalley for the opportunity to read and review an advance copy.

Review: Looking for Jane by Heather Marshall

 

I was delighted to be given the opportunity to read an advance copy of Looking for Jane, which explores the history of women's reproductive rights in Canada through the experiences of various women: Evelyn, who is sent to a home for unmarried mothers in the 1960s; Nancy, who becomes involved in a network providing access to safe abortion when it was still illegal; and in the present day, Angela, struggling to conceive a baby with her wife, who by chance becomes connected to the other women.

These women are fictional, but many of the events described are real. The book unflinchingly portrays the consequences of society where women are denied the right to control their own bodies and lives: the harsh, in fact abusive regime of the maternity home where young women were forced into giving up their babies without choice or compassion, the brutal realities of backstreet abortion, the very real danger of arrest and imprisonment for those who worked to provide safe abortions for women who needed them. The underground "Jane Network" was a real thing, starting in Chicago in the late '60s, and the author has used this both as a theme and as a starting point for more personal stories.

Heather Marshall's first novel is a hugely engaging and powerful read about motherhood, pregnancies wanted and unwanted, and the crucial importance of choice.

One minor issue for me was that - at least in my copy - very few dates are given, which I did find a little confusing as to when things were actually taking place. We know from a letter that Evelyn's story begins in 1961, and can work out more or less when the later events happen, but it's rarely stated.

An excellent, eye-opening read.

Review: The End of Men by Christina Sweeney-Baird

In the near future - 2025 - a lethal virus, killing only men, is first identified in a Glasgow hospital, though no-one initially wants to listen to A&E consultant Amanda Maclean. Before long, though, it becomes impossible to ignore that something very bad is happening.

As the crisis deepens, governments panic and flounder. There are riots, shootings, a civil war in China. And husbands, sons, fathers and brothers are dying all over the world in unimaginable numbers.

It's really hard to believe that this book was written before the start of the current pandemic, because although there are - thankfully - significant differences (the virus affects only men, though women can be carriers, and is far more lethal, killing almost all sufferers within a few days of infection), there is also a lot that feels eerily similar, for instance: "I go out to get food, briefly and carefully as late as possible in the quiet of night time, touching no one, standing near no one." Sound familiar? A foreword by the author comments on how the prophetic aspects of the story resulted in her being dubbed "Cassandra" by some.

We see the progression of the pandemic over a considerable period of time via various people's stories - some followed throughout, like Amanda, the doctor who first identified the virus, and who is determined to track it back to its source; Catherine, an anthropologist; scientists working on a vaccine - and some whose experiences we only glimpse briefly - a woman working as a maid in Singapore, another whose remote Scottish farm becomes home to evacuated teenage boys, a man trapped on a cruise liner off the Icelandic coast. There's a lot of tragedy, inevitably, and devastating social and economic changes and upheavals as men become a small minority of the population. Meanwhile, US journalist Maria Ferreira charts the progress of the pandemic through a series of articles.

There are some very acute observations; for instance, intimidating a male intruder into fleeing by using the threat of infection, one woman comments: "This must be what men used to feel like. My mere physical presence is enough to terrify someone into running. No wonder they used to get drunk on it."

Inevitably there are huge swathes of stories left untold - we see the UK and Scotland (by 2025 an independent republic), the US and Canada, along with snippets from China, Singapore and New Zealand, but the effects of the "Plague" on Africa, for instance, are unknown.

There were several times when I doubted the wisdom of my decision to read this book during a real life pandemic, especially early on. There's so much loss for almost all of the characters and it's heartbreaking at times (although strangely I only had tears in my eyes once, and that was at a moment of hope rather than despair).

A fascinating read and a very impressive debut novel, but only if you're feeling strong enough to take it...