The word Vene would have used to describe her mother was ‘cold’ because they’ve always been at odds, even in childhood. So when news of her terminal illness comes, Vene wonders what to do. Is a reconciliation out of the question? She returns to Napa only to find that Olivia is as harsh as she always was. Yet, when Vene finds a cookbook belonging to her mother, it’s like a window on a different woman. Upstairs her dying mother is judgemental and snappy, but between the pages of the cookbook she’s a young woman full of romance and longing, but also duty and a terrible heartache. This is the mum she’s never met and she wants to go on an emotional journey, to connect with the ‘real’ Olivia before it’s too late.
Using a dual timeline, half a century apart Vene tries to unearth the secrets and sacrifice of two different women. I loved the use of food as a medium to communicate emotion and nostalgia. We all have these tastes that rocket us back to childhood in one mouthful. In fact one of my favourite memoirs is Nigel Slater’s Taste which conjures up so many memories of his mother. We don’t always see our parents as people in their own right, especially when there are secrets and we don’t know the truth of everything they’ve endured. Mothers don’t always fully see their daughters, often because they’re so busy trying to protect them from a similar harm to the one they suffered when they were a young woman. In trying not to repeat our youthful mistakes and create a pattern, we make new ones. I thought there was so much insight into women’s emotional history here. There was a running theme of service and sacrifice that reminded me of Virginia Woolf’s A Room of One’s Own. Are women now able to make life choices completely for themselves or do they sacrifice this freedom to look after the needs of others? As an artist can we ever be fulfilled if we don’t write, paint or create? I thought the setting really emphasised the idea of food and nostalgia too, because just reading it I could imagine myself on holiday there. The place was beautifully described and the recipes with their accompanying wines between the chapters conjured up so many tastes and smells. Don’t read this when hungry! I love Italian food so it was wonderful to read those colours and tastes brought to life.
Emotionally and psychologically the author presents heartbreak in such a raw and honest way. Olivia’s past is full of loss and the pain of that has informed the way she brings up her daughter. The hurt of the past always affects our future relationships in some way, but is it possible to acknowledge that hurt and stop it shaping our future and that of our children? If not, a destructive pattern emerges and there is definitely trauma between these two generations. As our trips into Olivia’s past start to explain more about her present, I was hoping that Vene’s newly found knowledge of her mother’s motivations would open up a space for them to communicate honestly and truly know each other as women. I felt more involved in the past timeline, which often happens to me in dual timeline stories, and found the young Olivia a more engaging character. However, it was the dynamic between the two of them I loved and the sense that women have a lot to learn from each other when they communicate honestly. I wondered about how we value the older women in our families and whether we’ve lost that ability to prize them? Is there a collective wisdom we’re missing out on when we stop seeing our older relatives as people. Every so often it’s good to remind ourselves that these people who happen to be our parents, had lives long before they had us and I wondered whether there were incredible stories buried within the past generations of my own family.
Meet the Author
Born and raised in Los Angeles, Jennifer Hamm graduated with a BA in English at UCLA and began her writing career developing screenplays for movies and television. As a travel writer, she has covered the globe on assignment for various magazines and brands. She also writes It’s Only for A Year, a long-running blog chronicling her adventures raising her four boys in two countries. Hamm currently splits her time between London and Los Angeles. OneFriday in Napa is her first novel.
When Ella from Hachette Books messaged me to say there was a book she thought would be right up my street I was a little surprised. I didn’t think the publicists would know me and my book choices well enough to make predictions about what I’d like. I was wrong. She knew exactly who this book was for. ‘It’s about a man turning into a Great White Shark’ she told me, well what’s not to like? I was hooked on the idea before the book even arrived. Lewis and Wren have fallen in love. They’ve no idea that their first year of marriage will also be their last. It’s only weeks after their wedding when Lewis receives a rare and shocking diagnosis. He has an unusual mutation. Although he might retain some of his consciousness, his memories and possibly his intellect, his body will become that of a Great White Shark. Lewis is complicated, an artist at heart he has always wanted to write the great American play for his generation. How will his liberal and loving heart beat on within the body of one of the earth’s most ruthless predators? He also has to come to terms with never fulfilling his dreams, but expressing that anger with shark DNA in his system has huge repercussions. He has to come to terms with leaving Wren behind, for her own safety. Wren wants to fight on. To find a way of living and loving each other as Lewis changes. She is told that there will come a point when this will be too dangerous. Lewis will then have to live in a state run facility or free in the ocean. It’s when she sees a glimpse of his developing carnivorous nature that a memory from her past is triggered. Wren has to make a terrible, heart-wrenching decision.
I felt emotionally devastated by this beautiful novel that uses a fantastical premise to unleash experiences of grief, love, loss and potentially, healing. Wren and Lewis reminded me of my relationship with my late husband. We married after six weeks and even then I knew I wouldn’t have him forever. I had almost seven years until I lost him. This book explained how my own grief experience felt. After Jez’s death I felt furious with anyone who said ‘Jez would think..’ or claimed they could sense his presence. I could feel nothing. No voice, no presence, nothing. It was as if he had never existed. For Lewis there becomes a point when his incessant desire to feed will become his overriding thought, strong enough to wipe out all others, will that include his love for Wren? He will not exist as Lewis anymore, the doctors tell Wren, he will not even know who she is, because he will be all shark. Wren has to come to terms with letting Lewis go, but how do you walk away from the most precious thing in your life? I had a point where I had to decide that I couldn’t look after my husband any more. I was exhausted, we had no carers in place and it didn’t feel safe to try and go it alone. Besides, as his brother told me, I had to start building a life without Jez. I cried more the night he went into nursing care, than when he died, because I felt I’d let him down and I knew he would die. He did, only six weeks later. Wren is told the same after a terrible violent incident occurs at the after-party for the play Lewis’s students have worked on. Wren calls the specialist nurse for advice, but she urges Wren that it’s time. Will they be able to say goodbye?
Despite these similarities to my life, it wasn’t Lewis’s story that broke my heart, It was Wren’s story. This is not the first time Wren has had to say goodbye. When she was barely a teenager her mother also had a rare diagnosis, but her mutation was that of a Komodo Dragon, equally deadly and impossible to live with. One scene between Wren and her mother, as she leaves her in the state facility, was so deeply moving I cried. I found it unbearable. This is what’s astonishing about Emily Habeck’s debut. It seems so fantastical, yet is utterly real in it’s experiences and emotions. Using such unusual animals as the mutation/illness creates a distance from the feelings involved. Some readers might even think the premise ridiculous – but the terrible anticipation, the moment of loss, the grief and relentless momentum of life are exactly the same. It doesn’t matter whether it’s the decision to put an elderly parent in a home or a Komodo Dragon into a facility, the guilt and pain as you walk away feels identical. It isn’t all relentless misery though. We meet Wren’s mother as the teenager she once was, experiencing love for the first time. We also go back to Lewis and his new life in the ocean, as his emotions flit between loss and what’s for dinner. His friendship with Margaret is so funny. She was once a human too and she’s been looking for another hybrid to talk to, and boy does she talk?! She’d try the patience of a shark. In a beautifully unusual way and in an almost poetic prose, this beautiful debut is about life. It’s ups and downs, the horrendous losses and the gains: the naivety of first love, becoming a mother, our love and care for an elderly parent, friendships and realising that a special little girl sees you as her dad. Life is constant adaptation, evolving and developing all the time. Every end is a beginning. This is such a special novel, an incredible debut with such a keen grasp of what being human is all about. I can see this becoming an all-time favourite for me. It quite simply took my breath away.
Meet the Author
Emily Habeck has a BFA in theater from SMU’s Meadows School of the Arts as well as master’s degrees from Vanderbilt Divinity School and Vanderbilt’s Peabody College. She grew up in Ardmore, Oklahoma. Shark Heart is her first novel.
I’ve felt over the last year that every comedian has a book out. This is the result of the pandemic, where comedians could write material but had no way of testing it out on audience. It seems that a lot of them decided to use this time to write a memoir and this is up there with the best of them. One of the most important things about a memoir written by a celebrity is that it feels authentic and this book feels like a rambling conversation with Lou. She has such a strong narrative voice. I must admit to being a bit fascinated with Lou Sanders for a while now. I’d seen snippets of her stand-up, appearances on panel shows and a gloriously deranged turn as Mel Giedroyc’s sidekick on Unforgivable. However, it was her appearance on another Dave comedy show that cemented her in my memory as someone I’d like to know more about. On Outsiders, she was in a team with Ed Gamble, tackling activities out in the woods to earn Scout-style badges devised by David Mitchell. It was her effect on Ed that absolutely floored me. She slowly drove him to distraction by agreeing a plan, then as he struggled with it, she would get bored and wander off to start a Plan B by herself. His exasperation is delightful. Similarly, on Chris and Rosie Ramsay’s BBC2 show, she dissolved the presenters to puddles of uselessness by beautifully relaying a story about a dog’s back end while visibly gagging! I felt like this was a lady with a gloriously quirky and unapologetic way of being herself in the world that I simply loved. I learned while reading this memoir that her ease with herself, her authenticity, has been very hard won. I now admire her all the more and plan on buying this book for all the teenage girls in my life by the bucketload.
Lou tells her story with no frills or filter and that led to a really intimate reading experience. I could hear her voice immediately and that is the best thing about it. She tells the story of a difficult early life – struggles with ADHD and a very late diagnosis, coupled with devastatingly low self-esteem. Totally misunderstood at home, she was drinking and drug-taking from an early age. All to mask feeling different and as if she didn’t belong anywhere. Leaving home at 15 and working in pubs, she learned to use drink to create a new persona, one that made people laugh. She used whatever it was that made her feel different and strange for laughs. Drama followed her and some of her stories, especially around the opposite sex are starkly told and are all the more devastating for their honesty. She only realises in reverse that it’s impossible to give consent when you’re incapacitated. She’d learned that it was sometimes easier to give in and drink numbed the reality of what had happened. Each wound is almost unnoticed and that’s not just because she was obliterated. She’s totally unaware that she has the ability to keep to her boundaries, in fact I don’t think she was aware of her ability to set them. People who are worth nothing can’t ask for things. They’re not even aware they have the right to say no.
Lou is very matter of fact and unshowy about choosing to get sober and change her life. She credits AA with her success and it took a few false starts to get passed the times she kidded herself – ‘I’ve not had a drink for months, surely one or two would be okay?’ She learned that for her, one leads to many so she can’t have any. Ever. It only became clear for her when she realised she was ruining her own chances, self-sabotaging her career. She would ask comic friends why new comics were getting TV gigs and she wasn’t. After shows where she was obliterated, threw things into the audience and even bit someone, it took a good honest friend to tell her the truth. TV producers didn’t trust her, she was too unpredictable. That friend probably saved her career, in act they saved her life. I found her clarity around this part of her life really admirable, but she doesn’t want to see herself as a heroine or an example. This book doesn’t have a self-help vibe. She knows that she is a work-in-progress and only sticking with AA and practicing abstinence will work for her. In fact she also realises that therapy keeps her life ticking over, it gives her a release – like the pressure valve for her life. I loved the raw honesty of Lou’s writing. This is a book that never could have happened if she hadn’t learned to love every bit of herself. Well, most bits anyway. Some celebrity books are a list of achievements or a ‘how I became famous’ journey, but you don’t really meet the person. I’m not very good at surface stuff. Small talk is impossible for me, because it feels totally inauthentic. I put this book down feeling like I’d really met the person between it’s covers and we’d had a long, honest conversation about life.
Meet the Author
Lou Sanders is a British comedian. She is the champion of series eight of Taskmaster, co-hosts Mel Giedroyc: Unforgivable and has made a host of other television appearances from Live at the Apollo to The Late Late Show.
Lou has performed stand up around the world, including venues in New York, LA, Berlin and sell-out runs in Edinburgh and Soho. Lou has written articles for The Guardian, Time Out and GQ magazine.
More from Lou
Cuddle Club – The podcast where each week Lou Sanders (Taskmaster, QI, Would I Lie To You) asks a special guest the hard hitting questions that other non-cuddle based podcasts don’t dare to. Hot stuff like: Which kid did your parents prefer? Why are we all pretending massages are normal? And, can you ever trust anyone to order for you?
Wow! This is a searingly raw story, simmering with righteous anger and injustice. Set on a boiling hot summer’s day, you can almost smell the tarmac and diesel fumes. You can hear the traffic noise and feel the agitation and impatience of people trying to get to work without exchanging a word with anyone else. It’s too hot to breathe let alone exchange a friendly word. I had the unnerving experience of reading our heroine’s thoughts and hearing my own words. During the day from hell that Em was experiencing, it felt like some of my own thoughts and frustrations were running round her head. They just need awakening. I have to be honest and say that my age is more in line with another heroine from earlier this year – Amazing Grace Adams – who had her own walk of rage, fuelled by love. However, Em’s voice is a millennial war cry that becomes a national phenomenon in the space of a day. As she leaves her landlord’s bed that morning she expects to look smart for work, especially since she has a HR meeting and expects to be offered a permanent role after completing three months maternity cover with great results. Finally she’s catching an evening flight back home to Spain for her little sister wedding. Her actual day is a complete clusterfuck!
It was her very first thoughts and actions as she woke in the morning that started to build that inner fury in me. First of all her name isn’t Em, or Emily and not even Emma. It’s Emygdia. Everyone shortens it for her. To something that’s more manageable for them. This is an indication of what’s to come and references all those things about women that people find ‘too much.’ Em gets up quietly, so as not to disturb her landlord Matt – son of a Tory MP and an absolute dick. She wouldn’t want to wake him up. She gathers her clothes quietly and scurries away as if she has done something wrong. It’s Matt who’s in the position of power. It’s Matt who has a long-term girlfriend. It’s Matt who started this little fling. Yet it’s Em who has to leave the flat to accommodate his weekend with the saintly Rebecca. It’s Em who shouldn’t be so sexy and irresistible. It’s Em who buys into this bullshit and scurries quietly to her own room as if nothing has happened. As if she doesn’t exist. It made me wonder, what is it she’s so scared of? In fact, what are women so afraid of?
‘you warm-blooded Mediterranean types’, he says ‘all that passion eh? You can’t control yourselves.’ Ah yes the Spanish thing. He talks about that a lot. My long thick hair, the way I use my hands when I talk, my olive skin, how red my lips are, how dark my eyes are, how round my breasts are. What do English girls look like in bed then? Maybe they just lie there silent, pale and still. I doubt it. Maybe that’s just Rebecca.’
This sets up a central idea in the book and it’s title. It’s classic Madonna-Whore complex, the misogynistic idea that there are women you sleep with and women you marry. ‘Emmy’ as Matt calls her, is definitely the former. Like obliging little opposites of a dichotomy Rebecca and Em have never met, but Em has Facebook stalked her. Rebecca, who hates being called Becca, isn’t a large breasted, wild haired, sexy inconvenience. She’s a pale, pretty girl who wears her hair in plaits at the weekend and has a rabbit called Sniffles. She dislikes spicy food and even her favourite colour is mild – who likes mint? She wears loose sundresses and flat sandals. Her figure can’t be seen. She even has freckles. Could anyone be less threatening? This is the type of woman men like Matt idealise, they are the wives and mothers, not to be sullied or degraded in any way. This type of thinking also applies to serial killers. As the character of Rose explains, while men are killing women who deserve it they’re notorious, they’re given sexy nicknames and people make documentaries about them. It’s ok to kill the ‘Ems’ of this world: immigrant girls, homeless girls, nagging wives, pushy girlfriends, women who sell themselves, who wear slutty clothes, who walk home late at night. It’s only when they kill the ‘Rebecca’ types that people sit up and take notice. Girls who are nice, who don’t take risks, who don’t deserve it, who are innocent little angels. This attitude is prevalent in real life, I remember it from both the police and the media during the Yorkshire Ripper investigation. It starts small. Men shout ‘cheer up’ or ‘give us a smile’ as if we owe them a nice expression! As if we owe them pretty. Then there’s the man who wants to buy you a drink, to put their arm round you or touch your waist. It’s a continuum that, at it’s most extreme, encompasses those who use, abuse and even kill. Em has encountered all of these types before – the sexual harassment that costs her a job, the violent father, the user landlord and those she meets throughout the day right up to the London Strangler.
I loved how the author wrote about the body and how ‘other’ women’s natural bodily functions seem to be. There’s a disgust conveyed by men that women buy into and internalise. The shame of being caught out by a period in a public place must be a lot of women’s worst nightmare. When I read it I physically cringed on Em’s behalf. It was interesting that this was the point she meets Rose, who simply accepts this woman she’s just seen cleaning herself up and having to pee outdoors. It doesn’t make her look away or form a value judgement. This isn’t the only bodily function that Em is trying to avoid – sweat, sore armpits where her blouse was too tight, foot blisters – they’re all unladylike and shouldn’t be seen. I go loopy when I see Naked Attraction where women’s vulvas are often praised as ‘all neat and tucked in’ and ‘hygienic’ for having no pubic hair. Apparently we should also have a thigh gap and be in proportion. Sometimes they seem keen to erase so much of us, it’s a wonder we don’t just disappear. Rose is the furious feminist voice in the novel and she’s almost like a mentor to Em, listening and giving frank advice where needed plus the odd political rant here and there. She is her own woman and lives life on her terms. Could Em ever be like that? Could she acknowledge with her friends and her religious family that the love of her life is Nikki, a woman? Could she live a happier life focused on what she loves? Em seems to realise that her destiny is to be an example. Only she can discover which direction to go and the best way to achieve it.
Out now from Headline and currently 99p on Kindle
Meet The Author
Natali Simmonds began her career in glossy magazines, then went on to manage marketing campaigns for big brands. She’s now a creative brand consultant, freelance writer, and fiction author, writing gritty and unflinching stories full of complex women and page-turning suspense (and sometimes a little magic).
Simmonds’ dark, feminist thriller debut, Good Girls Die Last, has been optioned for a television series by STV. As N J Simmonds, Natali penned the fantasy trilogy The Path Keeper and Son of Secrets, and in 2022 was shortlisted for the RNA Fantasy Award for the last book in the series, Children of Shadows. She’s one half of paranormal romance author duo, Caedis Knight, and has also written for manga.
When she’s not writing or consulting, she’s a columnist for Kings College London’s ‘Inspire The Mind’ magazine, and lectures for Raindance Film School. Originally from London, Natali now divides her time between Spain, the UK, and the Netherlands where she can be found drawing, reading in her hammock, or complaining about cycling in the rain.
For her debut novel Clemmie Bennet has chosen to write something so complex I have to take my hat off to her. Ella has recently lost her beloved grandmother, Lolly. They used to spend a lot of time together, exploring stately homes and royal residences, particularly those from the Tudor period. Lolly left her granddaughter a beautiful gold and sapphire ring, one that’s very precious to Ella as she remembers her grandmother wearing it every day on a chain around her neck. However, it’s when Ella puts the ring on her finger that something very strange happens. Ella feels dizzy and passes out, waking up in a field next to what looks like Eltham Palace. As a man walks towards her, Ella thinks she’s fainted in the middle of an historical reenactment. He’s dressed in the rich robes of a member of the Tudor court and his manners are impeccable, offering to let Ella rest in the palace until her memory returns. Her rescuer is Henry VIII. As Ella finds herself in the court, becoming one of Katherine of Aragons ladies, she is a fly on the wall for some of the most dramatic events in royal and religious history. Is it possible to remain an observer, or will Ella find herself tempted to intervene and perhaps change the course of history?
I’ve been fascinated by Tudor history, ever since I saw one of the Hans Holbein portraits of Henry VIIII in the Chatsworth library when I was a child. Henry seemed like a curiosity in our royal history with so many wives and scandals to his name. Once I’d read the David Starkey books and Phillipa Gregory’s novels from The Other Boleyn Girl onwards. I was also drawn to the glamour and dubious historical content of the Showtime series The Tudors, with Jonathon Rhys Meyers Henry and his best friend the Duke of Suffolk, as portrayed by the rather delicious Henry Cavill. What all these sources brought home to me was how uneven his marriages were – he was married to Katherine of Aragon for as long as he was to every other wife combined. That’s without noting his devotion to her from the moment she reached England for her marriage to Henry’s elder brother Arthur, a devotion that survived his teenage years, her first marriage and his brother’s death. They were in love, he wasn’t faithful but Kings were not expected to be faithful. The idea of a character time travelling to that period threw up all sorts of questions and I was so impressed by the bravery of the writer. Writing historical fiction means researching your period throughly, so to do that and put your character in the middle of such a well- known series of events is such a risk.
I also applaud the author’s bravery in ripping up the rule book on time travel – we all know that it is important not to change anything in the past, but Ella ignores that rule. It’s a great choice because it gives her character more freedom, but I also think it makes an historical point too. I have always said that had I been in the Tudor court, I would do a Mary Boleyn and marry someone of little importance and get the hell out of there. I have always wondered while reading about the wives and friends of Henry why you would involve yourself in the political and religious machinations of the time. Wouldn’t a life in the country as a nobody be preferable? I think that the author allows Ella to get involved because she’s making the point that it would be impossible to live in that court and not become involved. It’s a game of survival and women are both marginalised and limited in their choices. They have a choice, to withdraw for a quiet life like Mary Boleyn or fight for their place and power like her sister Anne. Ella’s choices certainly raise the tension level! She’s playing a living game of chess, trying to keep within the rules but think three steps ahead of her opponent. Of course she has the benefit of hindsight and all the Tudor history her grandmother Lolly taught her, so she might be able to win.
I thought the book really brought to life the difficulties of the time period and being a subject of Henry VIII, particularly for women. We know there are ladies in waiting, but they’re often portrayed as companions the Queen and possible lovers of the King, but here we see more of their day to day activities and their emotional lives. Ella is a 21st Century woman and because of that we can see these women as being just like us. I loved the way she formed friendships and how the women supported each other. They are portrayed as emotionally open about their marriages and the dangers they face, whether from men or from their own bodies. Fertility plays a major part in the huge decisions of this court, in fact it still does today if we think of Prince Harry’s book Spare and the importance placed upon his father to marry and have both heir and spare. It’s always a huge part of the ‘King’s Great Matter’ that Katherine had not produced a male heir, but here the author explores what these struggles were like for the ordinary women at court. There’s a moment where Ella has to cope with getting her period in a time where underwear isn’t worn and she’s having all the same worries I remember having when starting my periods, all over again. It made me realise how vulnerable women were to sexual assault as well. It broke my heart to see how terrified women were of becoming pregnant, then dreading childbirth or losing their child. Having Ella there as a 21st Century comparison really heightened how different a woman’s lot really was and how the aristocratic practice of handing your child to someone else to look after caused such pain and grief.
I came away from this book with a different understanding of both the time and the court, even Henry himself. This Henry was intelligent, tender and seductive. Despite his shortcomings, there’s a compassion in Henry that seems missing from his actions in later years. It’s interesting to see how different the course of history might have been with just a few small changes. As Ella builds a friendship with Henry, I wondered how far her influence might reach and what might happen if she ever returned to her own time. This kept me reading and there was also a huge twist I didn’t expect! This was such an interesting premise and kept me intrigued enough to read to the end. I recommend this to anyone who knows a bit about the time period and maybe thinks they know all there is to know about Henry’s court. I would be interested to know what the author would change if she went back to Henry’s court, or whether she would choose to lie low? This is such an interesting debut and I hope to see Clemmie flourish as a writer of historical fiction.
Meet the Author
Clemmie Bennett is a writer, author of the historical fantasy “The Apple and the Tree.” A professional London-based French nanny, Clemmie has been working on her debut novel for over three years, but writing a book has been on her bucket list for as long as she can remember. When she is not writing or reading, she can be found wandering about ancient royal palaces or abbey ruins, most likely despairing that time travel is not a reality – like it is for her main character.
Rachel has loved Alistair since she was seventeen.
Even though she hasn’t seen him for sixteen years and she’s now married to someone else.
Even though she was a teenager when they met.
Even though he is almost twenty years older than her.
Now in her thirties, Rachel has never been able to forget their golden summer together on a remote, sun-trapped Greek island. But as dark and deeply suppressed memories rise to the surface, Rachel begins to understand that Alistair – and the enigmatic, wealthy man he worked for – controlled much more than she ever realized.
Rachel has never once considered herself a victim – until now.
I devote a lot of my time to reading, but there are times when a book makes me drop everything. I carry it in my bag to read while waiting for appointments. It takes precedence over Netflix and all the other streaming channels that lure us into watching the screen every evening. I spent my whole morning in pyjamas reading, because I needed to finish this novel in one greedy gulp. I was completely transfixed by this story of a young girl taking a holiday to Greece that completely changes her life. Rachel is a naïve seventeen years old when she sets out to the island for a holiday with her friend Caroline. She sells it to her worried parents as being no different to a gap year, just a year earlier than normal. Once on the island they meet a group of girls who work in a local bar, belonging to entrepreneur Harry Taylor. When Rachel meets his right hand man Alistair she feels an immediate attraction but does he feel the same way? Surely she isn’t going to capture the attention of a handsome and sophisticated older man. She does notice him looking at her and it sends a shiver through her. Rachel has never thought of herself as beautiful, especially next to the other girls here, but as Alistair singles her out for attention she feels special. They have a connection, so strong that she makes a huge decision. She isn’t going to return to England with Caroline at the end of the holiday. She is going to work in the bar alongside the girls she’s made friends with and share their rather chaotic house nearby. Why would she return to her parent’s suffocatingly ordinary semi and her A’Levels when she can be on this golden island with Alistair and frequent the glamorous parties held by his mysterious boss at his enormous villa in the hills?
The structure of the book is interesting, because usually in time slip novels we have a protagonist in the here and now trying to solve a mystery interspersed with glimpses into the past that make sense of the present. Here the author turns that on it’s head. Rachel, now in her thirties and married to Tom, knows what happened in the past. She holds her relationship with Alistair up on a pedestal, their love was special and those months with him on a beautiful Greek island have been her benchmark of how love should be. It’s a revisit to the island with Tom and bumping into Helena that starts to unravel the rather idealised past she’s been narrating to us. The present actually deconstructs her past. As each new revelation washes over Rachel in the present it takes us into a past that’s changed a little, becoming murkier and more sinister. Rachel is still friends with Jules, a friend she made on the island who was separate to the bar. In fact it’s Jules who gives seventeen year old Rachel a warning, the locals think there’s something ‘off’ about the bar and perhaps it would be best to stay away. In the present Jules and her husband have Rachel and Tom over for dinner. They’re chatting about having a family, but Rachel and Tom have been trying for around a year without success. Tom mentions that they’ve talked about seeing a doctor to have a few things checked out when Rachel responds angrily that he wants to see a doctor, she hasn’t agreed to anything. Her harsh responses change the night and seem out of character. She’s told us about how easy it was to fall in love with Tom and how they’d taken steps to move in together almost without realising it, when she’d stayed for a few days while some work was being done on her flat. Of course by now we know that Rachel has Alistair’s number and has made plans to see him again. Could that have made her less invested in her future with Tom? Later we see that she’s stashed her contraceptive pills in a box of sanitary towels under the bathroom sink, she’s still been taking one regularly every day.
IT’S TOO HOT to be outside for long. Sweat is starting to dampen my scalp, thickening in the roots of my hair and pooling in the crevices of my collar bone. My t-shirt sticks to my spine and my arms are tinged pink, an ungainly line of skin beginning to blister along the top of my thigh in the almost unseasonable blaze of sun. I curl my toes into the damp sand and feel the sharpness of a small shell against the sole of my foot.
Our setting so powerful, that beautiful sun soaked island with the sound of boats rocking rhythmically in the harbour and that incredible opening line that took me straight back to standing in the sea and feeling that sharp edge of a sea shell. She captures that push and pull between the tourists and the locals who, even thought they’re in exactly the same place, see it completely differently – rather like Rachel and the other girls. I could see the slightly scruffy house they all share and the chaos and fun of getting ready together, sharing clothes and cheap bottles of wine. Harry’s house in the hills is another contrast, sleek and modernist with contemporary art on the walls. Even the sea looks different from high in the hills, appearing flat and smooth like a lake on the surface, but with dangerous riptides underneath. The present sections mainly take place in London and the author shows us the city as visitors probably don’t see it. She describes a rather special Sunday evening feel to the tube when it’s almost empty and strangely quiet, as if having a rest before the Monday morning commuter rush. She describes sudden rain showers and people having to improvise and use their handbag to shield their hair from the downpour. Rachel loves living in the capital, compared to her parent’s suburban family home. There’s an energy and unpredictability to it’s rhythms, a sense that there are so many options, anything could happen. Whereas home has a particular tameness and routine that Rachel finds stifling. Could Rachel’s decision to stay on the island and even her attraction to Alistair have something to do with the way she views her mum and dad’s life? We see Rachel fighting something similar in her marriage, the ordinariness igniting that constant yearning for something more, something others can’t see:
She was ‘hoping this trip would reignite some of the heat that has been missing from my marriage. Instead, I look across at my husband and feel faintly repulsed. His underarms are damp and staining the shirt he put on especially for our last night here. He’s staring out at the sea, but I know he isn’t seeing it the way I do. To him it could be anything. Any view, anywhere. To me the swell of the tide speaks of secrets, the salty air smelling irrevocably of promise.’
It’s very easy to understand the teenage Rachel. I fell in love at seventeen and had my heart broken. For years I idealised that relationship, using it as a benchmark for subsequent relationships that in hindsight had much more potential. She is so naïve that she can’t see what’s happening and how much she is being controlled. It’s almost apt that the book should come out in the light of the Phillip Schofield scandal, because it struck me how the responses to what happened are very different to the responses we might have had when I was seventeen in the early 1990s. Our gradual understanding of coercive control, grooming and power imbalances in relationships have coloured the way we view all relationships completely. An affair with a much older man probably wouldn’t have raised much of an eyebrow then, it’s only with hindsight that it becomes worrying. It’s only once the affair is viewed through the prism of our later experiences, such as having our own daughters, that our perspective changes. The #MeToo movement has changed how we see things. When I watched the film Bombshell I talked with friends I’ve had since I was a teenager and as the author writes in her afterword, we’ve all had experiences: of being groped without consent while waitressing or working behind a bar; having a boss who was a bit ‘handsy’ or made inappropriate comments; being touched an a crowded dance floor at a club. One of the most disturbing stories I have ever heard was from a woman who had known ‘wrestling’ between boys and girls in the school playground turn into sexual assault. I love that my stepdaughters are so much better informed than I was and are very conscientious about keeping each other safe when out with friends, although it frustrates me that they have to be so vigilant just to go out on a Friday night.
The Girls of Summer was born out of this strange and sometimes conflicting intersection between nostalgia and trauma, memories and the truth, power and sexuality. It explores the grey areas of consent, deepening a debate that has shifted and broadened since the #MeToo hashtag first took social media by storm. It interrogates what it means when we are forced to reframe a narrative that is so central to who we are that we aren’t sure who to be when that narrative turns out to be false. Is it better to face up to this truth, and all of the pain that comes with it, or to keep it hidden in the dark?
The Girls of Summer, Afterword
Watching the teenage Rachel walk into danger is upsetting because this reader was ahead of the narrative and knew something was very wrong with the island set-up, particularly the extravagant parties. There was no explanation for all the male party guests and the mysterious Harry rarely appeared. On her way to a party, Rachel is excited and hopes Alistair loves her dress, she’s grateful that the girls have been invited never realising that they are the reason for the party. The gaslighting afterwards was painful to read – ‘you had fun didn’t you?’ Or ‘don’t feel bad about what happened, it’s okay, you enjoyed it.’ When they’re in the middle of that level of pressure, manipulation and controlling the narrative how would they be able to see through it and understand what’s truly going on? Even for an adult Rachel it’s hard. Her relationship with Alistair and it’s veracity is part of who she is, how she views men and relationships and determines her friendships with the very women who might understand her most. When the truth of everything is revealed, the horror of the Full Moon party and further painful revelations, it’s so hard for her to absorb and accept it. I found it deeply sad that even towards the end of the book, Rachel has still held a tiny shred of hope that her version of the relationship with Alistair will prove to be the love story she wanted.
When the truth is so deeply painful and damaging, isn’t it understandable that she would want to sugar coat things a little? To push away the truth and not have to confront what happened to you. To not feel like a victim. I could truly understand the women coming together to confront the past and I found myself thinking about how powerful men frame the narrative. They talk about a cabal or coven of women coming together to destroy them. Women who have been taking drink or drugs and having an encounter they bitterly regret in the morning. I can only imagine what effect it must have on the individual, to hear comments like Prince Andrew’s ‘I have absolutely no memory of ever meeting that woman’. For Rachel, who lost absolutely everything that summer, the denial of her experience actually brings the first chink of light into her situation. I felt hopeful that with the help of this group of women, friends like Jules and an acceptance of the truth she could start to rebuild. The fact that I’m talking about Rachel like this, as a real person, is testament to the brilliant writing of Katie Bishop. She has created a real, flesh and blood woman in Rachel and I found myself almost wishing I could see her as a client, I so wanted a recovery for her. This is a powerful story, that may trigger some people who’ve had similar experiences, but it’s important for stories like this to be told. I could really see this as a television series, with some reviewers seeing a similarity with The White Lotus – a beautiful setting, a luxury resort and the dark truths lurking underneath all that perfection. I loved the ending though, a return to that beautiful place but with the ability to see the reality instead of a fantasy. I wanted her visit to the island to be different to the one she had with Tom at the beginning of the book. To accept that she will never feel the excitement and promise she felt all those years ago, but that she will experience new feelings that are every bit as worthwhile.
I had thought I could recapture something of how I felt all those years ago by coming back here, but it has only served to remind me how slippery and impossible it is to summon the past. Perhaps this is simply the nature of growing up. Of growing older. Perhaps I will never feel the same again.
Meet The Author
Katie Bishop is a writer and journalist based in the UK. She grew up in the Midlands before moving to Oxford to work in publishing in her early twenties. Whilst working as an assistant editor she started writing articles in her spare time, going on to be published in the New York Times, Guardian, Independent and Vogue.
Katie started writing The Girls of Summer during the first UK COVID lockdown, after becoming increasingly interested in stories emerging from the #MeToo movement. The novel is inspired by her own experiences of backpacking, and by her interest in how our personal narratives can be reshaped and understood in light of cultural and social changes.
In 2020, Katie moved back to the Midlands, and now lives in Birmingham with her partner. She is a full-time writer.
This is Neil’s first novel and fulfils a long held ambition, possibly fuelled by the exact same crisis that hits all of his characters. It’s clear that there’s going to be some sort of social awakening for Marcus at this mid-point in his life. He’s been totally immersed in The Firm’s culture until recently and he’s only just realising how blinkered he’s been as he starts to see people in difficulties all around him – like the homeless man he shares a coffee with on the bench outside St. Paul’s Cathedral. His narration is alternated with that of Claire, who also has a huge landmark building dominating the skyline, Grenfell Tower. This is the south of Kensington and a place where gentrification is slowly pushing poorer and ethnic minority residents out of the area. Claire’s flat is social housing, it’s small but is also cozy and quite quirky especially her reconditioned egg chair that she worked on herself. Her children Alexa and NAME are well looked after and we get the sense that despite the shoplifting Claire is a great mum, just struggling to get by on the universal credit that’s supposed to keep her and her family fed. Claire relies on Gavin quite heavily for emotional support. She’s estranged from her family and friends fell by the wayside long ago. She’s happy to be offered a coffee by one of the new mums at school, Beverley who’s been living in Hong Kong and lives in a home straight out of an interiors magazine. Gavin also brings a little luxury into her life, with his Fortnum’s teas and now offering to come and cook a meal for her in the flat with his neighbour Marcus. For Claire it’s a chance to put on one of her dresses and have someone else cook for a change, something a step up from pasta and cottage pie. For Marcus it’s a chance to have something different from his wife and daughter’s relentless descent into veganism, something he doesn’t remember signing up for.
Marcus’s sections do have some financial jargon but it’s fairly easy to get a grasp of the type of company he works for and he certainly has some fun at their expense. His sections are laced with humour; training sessions in communicating without micro-aggression, joyless drone employees who ditched having fun before university, unhelpful departments like TOOL who seem guaranteed to take a financial pitch and turn it into a pantomime. I particularly loved his lock-down game ‘Through the Zoomhole’ complete with erotic paintings. His home life isn’t short of comic moments either, with his son’s contraband scotch eggs hanging out of his bedroom window advertising entirely the wrong sort of supermarket for their area. He hears about the mystery virus in China at the beginning of the year and his regular attempts to draw people’s attention to it fall on deaf ears. He becomes increasingly anxious as it draws nearer, incredulous that nothing is being prepared but still never realising the shattering personal impact it will have on his life. For Claire, who has asthma, and other residents of the flats it could be even worse. Mr Mahoney who pops in for cake and The Chase every afternoon is very elderly, neighbour Ian who has motor neurone disease and both could succumb to the virus. There’s a great contrast made in how the virus hits those in poverty hardest: Marcus’s boss Kelvin scoots down to his second home in Cornwall just before the lockdown starts whereas Claire and two children are locked down in a tiny flat with no outdoor space of their own. Those who can afford to bulk buy can hoard basic household items and food, whereas universal credit keeps claimants hand to mouth and if the shelves are empty on payday the only answer is to go without. As the circumstances really bite and Gavin is shut away on his parent’s estate in Scotland, it is Marcus who steps up for Claire in altruistic ways he might never have expected before.
I was lucky enough to have a discussion about the book with the author and I mentioned feeling conflicted about the balance of the story. There were long passages describing Marcus’s job where perhaps just a couple of scenes would have given us a flavour of working at The Firm and why Marcus was falling out of love with his role. I think it was an area where the author’s wealth of experience meant the writing flowed and more judicious editing could have cut some of that back. Neil felt the book needed this amount of focus on The Firm because he wanted to satirise the work culture and the corporate world in general. We discussed character and I observed that we had narration from Marcus and Claire throughout but nothing from Gavin’s perspective until the very end. He has some interesting anomalies in his life. He’s wealthy enough to have grown up on an estate in Scotland and while he isn’t the heir, he isn’t short of money. His flat next to Marcus would be unaffordable on a social worker’s pay and his extravagant taste in tea, wine and food is that of someone with an independent source of income. His lifestyle is possible due to a large inheritance from his grandfather, but this has dwindled a little – something explored briefly at the end of the novel and Neil promised there is more focus on this in his next instalment. I worried about Gavin because he seems such a solitary character and I found myself wondering what he did on those evenings when he wasn’t having dinner with Marcus. He has no significant other and dating or previous relationships are never mentioned. I wondered whether he had a lifestyle that wouldn’t have fit in with his wealthy and traditional family, hence the distance between his life and theirs. He is the most intriguing of the three main characters and these questions were never answered, so it was great to discuss them with Neil. I told him how much I wanted to hear Gavin’s perspective and live for a while inside his head so felt this was a wasted opportunity. Neil was happy that I was so involved with his character and told me that he deliberately left the question of Gavin’s sexuality ambiguous. He felt that Gavin was attracted to Marcus, but wanted the reader to think and make their own minds up. It’s a surprise when we do have a section narrated by him and witness something that came completely out of the blue and made me worry about his future. We discussed how, on the whole, I thought the novel made it’s point well and I really enjoyed the social justice aspects of the story as Marcus came ever closer to possibly changing his life. I was intrigued as to whether his wife Alice would be open minded enough to go with him and make radical changes to their lives. I certainly hoped so.
Out Now
I retired from a career in the corporate world in November 2019 with three objectives. To travel around the world and fly fish in the most exotic locations, to play my electric guitar better than I do and to write a novel that I could be genuinely proud of. The pandemic and lockdown in March 2020 put my first two objectives on hold leaving me no option but to start writing. Two and half years later, ‘Maybe It’s About Time’, my first novel, was published.
As a piece of work, I am incredibly proud of it. It makes me laugh and cry in equal measure. I am even more proud that readers seem to be enjoying it just as much and it is getting great reviews.
Travel and fly fishing has now started again, my guitar playing is improving and a sequel to ‘Maybe It’s About Time’ is planned to start in 2023!
The memory of that day is a part of me now, tough like hardened skin. You never forget your first. You hope and pray it will be the last you ever see. You already know. Deep down. It’ll happen again and you will have to watch. The screaming, the waiting, watching her body tied down, the boat rocking and shunting, capsizing. Drowning. The point where you can see with your own eyes what it means to be a woman.
Wow! This book was so evocative, from the author’s descriptions of the island’s landscape to the way of life followed by it’s inhabitants. It felt oppressive and bleak, but also strangely mystical. On an isolated island with no access to the ‘Otherlands’ beyond, a religious community observes a strict regime policed by male ‘Keepers’ and female ‘Eldermothers’ under the guidance of their leader Father Jessop. There were shades of The Handmaid’s Tale in this community, that polices it’s borders and it’s women. Women must not go near the water, lest they be pulled into the wicked ways of the Seawomen, seemingly a species of Mermaid. The water can breed rebellion in the women and cause bad luck for the islanders. Any woman could be singled out by the Eldermothers, so they must learn to keep their heads down and stay away from the water. Any bad luck – crop failure, poor fishing quotas, storms, pregnancy loss – all can be blamed on the community’s disobedient or disloyal women, influenced by the water. Each girl will have their husband picked out for them and once married, the Eldermothers will assign her a year to become a mother. If the woman doesn’t conceive she is considered to be cursed and is put through the ordeal of ‘untethering’ – a ceremonial drowning where she is tethered to the bottom of a boat. Esta is a young girl who lives with her super religious grandmother, but often asks questions about the mum she has never known. Her grandmother insists she sees a darkness in Esta and is constantly praying and fasting so that Esta doesn’t go the same way as her mother. The sea does call to Esta and she goes to the beach with her terrified friend Mull, to feel the water. There they see something in the waves, something semi-human, not a seawoman, but a boy. Will Esta submit to what her community has planned for her or will she continue to commune with the water?
The book opens with a description of an untethering ceremony, throwing us directly into the brutality of the Keepers and the terror of the drowning woman. It’s a visceral opening and cleverly leaves the reader very aware of the fate our heroine could face. I felt this really added to the atmosphere of the book, raising the tension and our trepidation for this bold and intelligent young woman. We don’t want to see her life mapped out for her with all the restrictions it implies, but we equally don’t want to see her become the next victim of this barbaric, patriarchal society. I also felt strangely unmoored by the setting. I saw in my mind’s eye, a rugged and weather beaten Scottish isle, miles from it’s neighbours, yet I couldn’t pinpoint it’s place in history. The clothing and the attitudes are strangely old-fashioned. The religion is very puritan in tone: a personal relationship with God is encouraged, along with modesty, industry, male domination and of course obedience. Having been brought up in an evangelical church I can honestly say these attitudes and expectations, especially the pressure on young women, is still alive and well in those types of communities. So we could be in the 19th Century or it could be yesterday. Father Jessop’s preaching is that that Otherlands are toxic, their land contaminated and their ability to produce wholesome food curtailed by their inability to listen to their God. This gave me the sense of a dystopian future, where perhaps global warming has decimated most of the planet and only these remote outposts survive. Adding to this sense of disorientation are the islander’s names, more like surnames than forenames the men have names like Morley or Ingram whereas the women have names like Seren and Mull. I felt genuinely uneasy about the island and felt something evil lurked under the piety and the fatherly control, something far uglier, that a rebel like Esta might awaken.
Esta’s questing mind is what drives the story forward. There are too many secrets in her background. She knows that the burn scarring on one side of her face happened when she was a baby and the house burned down killing her mother and whoever else was inside. Only Esta survived and her grandmother’s negativity surrounding her only daughter is excessive and this doesn’t allow Esta to ask questions or hear about a different side to her mother. She knows that there’s more to her history than she’s been told. Another conundrum is her grandmother’s cousin Barrett, a fisherman who lives by the harbour, as close to the water as he could be. He lives alone after the death of his wife and is possibly the only islander to have come across a Seawoman up close and was injured in the process. However, he doesn’t talk about his wife or where he went in the sea after her death. There are too many questions for a girl who’s already unsure whether she believes in the dark myths of the Seawomen, or the darkness she is potentially harbouring at her centre. Despite her upbringing there is a part of Esta that does question, that challenges and most importantly can accept that those in authority might be wrong. It’s a self belief and confidence that will stand her in good stead for what’s to come.
I had so many suspicions and theories of my own as the story unfolded, not just about Esta’s past, but about the patriarchal society itself. The last third of the book really did pick up the pace and we see the iron will of Father Jessop and the cruelty he is prepared to inflict in order to stay in control. I was so deeply pulled in by Esta’s will and her instinct to get away, that I felt anxious. I wanted her to have something in life that most of us take for granted, another person who truly cares for her and loves her. This feeling intensified as she is promised in marriage and goes to live with her husband’s family; a family who have a very low opinion of her and a husband who loves someone else. The way the author opens up the truth of the island is by using one of the older women who has some of the answers and also shows Esta that there are others who think the way she does, they just fly under the radar so they remain safe. To Esta this is unthinkable, to know the truth but continue to live under the false tyranny imposed on them feels cowardly to her. What will happen when the Esta’s story reaches its conclusion, when she might face the very ceremony she feared so much at the beginning? Will these free thinking individuals stand up for her? Even more important to me, was whether or not Esta reaches the Otherlands and the freedom she longs for, or whether she is fated to be forever one with the sea.
Published 14th June 2022 by Hodder Studio
Meet The Author
Chloe Timms is a writer from the Kent coast. After a career in teaching, Chloe studied for an MA in Creative Writing at the University of Kent and won a scholarship for the Faber Academy where she completed their six-month novel writing course. Chloe is passionate about disability rights, having been diagnosed with the condition Spinal Muscular Atrophy at 18 months old, and has campaigned on a number of crucial issues. The Seawomen is her first novel.
From listening to blogger’s conversations over the last couple of weeks I’ve learned a lot about reactions to this book and it seems to have completely divided readers. Maybe all bookworms can be divided into Lauras and Roaches – I certainly found a few clues about which on I was, so that made me smile at my own ridiculousness!
“I knew she was a bookseller as soon as I saw her. She wore a green beret, the colour of fresh pine needles, and a camel raincoat like a private detective in a film noir. Over one shoulder, the grubby straps of a shabby tote bag. It was decorated with a quote in a typewriter font, and although I couldn’t quite read it, I knew what it would say: Though she be but little, she is fierce, or Curiouser and curiouser, or Beware for I am fearless and therefore powerful.”
Brogan Roach works at a small London branch of Spines – the ubiquitous high street bookshop. She pretty much runs her own workday, keeping a close eye on her precious true crime section and sneakily reserving books, but secreting them in the staff room to read later. Things are about to change though, when a new team move in to pick up sales and improve the store. They’re like bookshop troubleshooters. Sharona is the manager and her team Laura and Eli are very experienced booksellers, eager to help the public and make sure the pyramid displays are perfect. Laura Bunting is just one of those people born to work with the public. She has an easy manner, quick to smile and engage customers in conversation, magically able to sell the book of the month. People warm to her immediately, but she hasn’t warmed to Roach.
“Laura Bunting. Her name was garden parties, and Wimbledon, and royal weddings. It was chintzy tea rooms, Blitz spirit, and bric-a-brac for sale in bright church halls. It was coconut shies and bake sales and guess-the-weight-of-the-fucking-cake.”
Laura and Roach are incredibly different characters anyway, but the rot sets in on a poetry evening. All the staff go, but Laura is performing. Her poetry takes the killer out of the murder narrative. She performs found poetry created from serial killer narratives, but telling the story of the women instead. Roach seems to miss the point though and as Laura comes off stage she greets her with excitement as if she’s a fellow true crime enthusiast. She wants to engage Laura in a debate over whether adding the violence she’s omitted might make the poems more exciting, or appeal to a larger audience. This would be fine if they were both enthusiasts, but they’re really not. For Laura, this is personal. Years before, Laura’s mother was the victim of Leo Steele, a prolific strangler. Laura hates true crime because it always tells the killer’s story. The whole point of her poetry is to right that wrong so she becomes furious when Roach misses the point. Other than that the pair just don’t click, not everyone does. Laura is the type of bookworm I know and love – she has the tote bag with the literary quote and all the book paraphernalia that signals to others she’s a bookworm. Roach sneers at this, she loves her genre but she seems to be reading exactly the same book throughout. It’s unforgivable when Roach re-inserts the violence and torture into Laura’s poetry, especially when it ends up published online. She has no concept of how much pain this will cause Laura, both personally and professionally. Laura’s full of memories of her mum that have nothing to do with her death or her killer and she thinks of her every time she walks to work.
“I think about the rhythm of my feet on the cracked path and about Patti Smith in New York, and of Joan Didion in Sacramento, and how each footstep is another connection between me and my neighbourhood, the streets on which I learned to ride a bike, where I walked hand in hand with my mother, and that despite all the pain, and the loss, and the grief, I’m tethered to Walthamstow because she still exists in the fabric of it, a ghost imprinted on every familiar sight. She knew these streets, these trees, these bricks, these bollards. These paving stones remember the bounce of her running shoes. I still can’t quite bring myself to walk past her old shop, even though it’s changed.”
Laura takes opportunities to dig at Roach and the genre she holds dear, but on Roach’s end there are sinister acts of sabotage. I found them disturbing, targeting Laura’s very sense of self. Both women are vulnerable in their own way with binge drinking and destructive sexual encounters shown as symptoms of low self-esteem. Laura’s encounters with Eli are particularly painful and indicative of relationships we settle for when we’re young and unsure of ourselves. Roach seems to have the confidence to embrace who she is, but is constructing her entire identity around her true crime fandom. There’s clearly either a jealousy or deep obsession where Laura is concerned. Is it Laura’s charm, her easy way with customers, her talent? Or is this much darker, an obsession with Laura’s proximity to a real life true crime story? Instead of seeing Laura’s work as an inspiration and a starting point for her own creative path, she decides to steal it. She even reasons that it isn’t theft, because many writers use other works in their own process. I was gripped, waiting to see if this would go further. I was unsure whether Roach even had her own identity, an idea of her authentic self, or whether this was another aspect of Laura she was willing to steal.
The book is fast paced and so addictive I read it in two short bursts over a Friday night and into Saturday morning. I was bleary eyed, but had to know. The title alludes to a death and I needed to know who would die and whether it was murder. Ironically, I found myself intrigued by the potential killers, just like any true crime fan. I loved the author’s sarcastic jibes about the book world and couldn’t help but laugh, even when I recognised myself. I thought she captured the loneliness of living and working in London as a young woman, especially in a relatively low paid job and the poor housing they find affordable. Locked in a solitary, damp flat with only books for company is a breeding ground for mental health issues, with heavy drinking used to self-medicate. It was tense towards an ending that could only be devastating for someone, but who? This was a brilliant debut thriller, that kept me rapt throughout.
The drinks glass and flashes of almost neon colour on this book’s cover were striking on NetGalley. To me they signified city living, the bar scene and potential for glitz and glamour – I’ve probably watched too much Sex and the City. However, the women depicted here were a long way from flashy, fashionista, New York City Girls. In fact there are only a couple of nights out in the whole book. This is a different NYC, where real people live and work day to day, just trying to get by in a city that’s exciting, but expensive and tough. In a split narrative, set partly in 1955 and partly in 1975, this is a novel that writes back to women’s history. It opened my eyes to a time when women were persecuted for the way they choose to live their lives. In 1955 Dovie Carmichael and her friend Gillian work together as teachers and share an apartment. The friends have a lot in common: they love jazz, a glass of whiskey at night and lazy Sundays at home. The pair guard their private time very carefully, until one day when the wrong person gets a glimpse into their lives, changing everything. Twenty years later teenager Ava Winter lives in the same apartment with her Mum and her Dad, when he’s around and not with his mistress. Ava’s mum is not well mentally and Ava is struggling to live a normal teenage life, preferring to stay home to keep an eye on her. She becomes fascinated with a mysterious box and letter sent to their address from France. Inside are letters, a butterfly necklace and a photograph with LIAR scrawled across a woman’s face. Ava wants to know the story behind the box. Who was this woman, that lived in her home and what do the letters say?
The theme that stood out to me more than anything was loneliness. I felt a contrast between the huge open city and the small private spaces where secrets are kept. The characters I felt most connection with were Ava and Dovie, both struggling to keep secrets about their living situation. The mistake Dovie and Gillian make allows a very manipulative woman to take advantage of them. Judith works at the same school and does come across as a lonely woman, but has allowed her situation to develop bitterness and envy in her character. In the guise of struggling to find an affordable apartment, she inveigles her way into Dovie and Gillian’s home and relationship. It’s clear she wants friends, but seemingly can’t stand to see two people who are happy in each other’s company and if she can’t have it for herself she might just set out to destroy it. Ava is also lonely and I think she senses a similar feeling in the box of keepsakes she discovers, it’s that connection with the sender’s loneliness that makes her so determined to find the person this box was meant for. It’s also a distraction from how miserable her own life is. With her mum and dad estranged she is often solely looking after her mother who seems severely depressed and liable to harm herself. It’s almost a role reversal, with Ava looking after her welfare instead of the other way round. I felt deeply for this young girl going through the usual teenage phases of a crush on a boy in the neighbourhood, a worry about how she looks and fitting in, and both the anticipation and fear of what comes next in life. On top of this her father uses his precious time with Ava to chat up the waitress in their favourite diner. Her mother is deteriorating, screaming and muttering through the night and Ava is so worried about the neighbours hearing her or her friend finding out what home is really like since her dad left. The scenes of her alone in their cold apartment, willing her mum to settle for the night and wishing her dad was there, were vivid and moving.
Whether in New York or Paris the settings are beautifully evoked and I could feel the change in time period from just a few well written sentences. Even the usually romantic Paris has it’s downsides because this is the reality of living there, rather than the dream. I felt the author really got under the surface of these cities and showed me what it was like to be a New Yorker. I found the LGBTQ+ scene so interesting and the contrast between women who kept their relationships secret, with more openly gay women in NYC or Paris, was beautifully portrayed. Dovie has never ventured into meeting other women and the scene where she visits a club stayed with me. There’s an innocence about Dovie that contrasts sharply with the sophisticated women she sees there, some of whom are scathing of Dovie’s lack of knowledge about being openly lesbian in 1955. I don’t think she really understood the danger she faced which could be anything from losing her job to being arrested or put into an asylum. I was just as shocked to realise that women who were open about their sexuality, or discovered, were subject to arrest and even ECT treatment to curb their ‘unnatural’ activities or desires. The nightclub raid where Dovie is helped to escape through a bathroom window is unbelievably tense and so poignant when we realise it’s link to 1975. The way police manhandle and sexually assault the women reminded me of how the suffragettes were treated so many decades earlier. The idea was to break the women’s resolve and remind them what they were really for – the amusement, desires and dominance of men. Reading these women’s experiences made me so angry, but also opened a door into a world I am ashamed to say I knew little about. At heart this is a love story and all the way through I wanted to know what had happened in that apartment in 1955 and I also hoped that Ava would find the intended recipient of the box from Paris. For me this book had a similar impact to the television series It’s A Sin. This was an emotionally captivating story that’s sure to stay with me and has inspired me to read more about the history of sexuality and the fight LGBTQ+ people still have for equal rights across the globe. It left me with a lump in my throat, thinking about how love can last a lifetime, even beyond separations and loss. I really look forward to reading more from this talented author in the future.
Meet The Author
Julie Owen Moylan is a writer whose short stories and articles have appeared in New Welsh Review, Horizon Literary Review, and The Voice of Women in Wales Anthology
She has also written and directed several short films as part of her MA in Film. Her graduation short film called ‘BabyCakes’ scooped Best Film awards at the Swansea Film Festival, Ffresh, and the Celtic Media Awards. She also has an MA in Creative Writing, and is an alumna of the Faber Academy’s Writing a Novel course.
Her debut novel THAT GREEN EYED GIRL was published by Penguin Michael Joseph on May 12 2022.
She is currently working on her second novel SPANGLELAND
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