Posted in Random Things Tours

A Complicated Woman by Rebecca Lucy Taylor aka Self Esteem 

“I never could′ve told you anything I long for

While I was in the water swimming ‘gainst tides we′re taught to

Take it in our stride, laugh it off, take it on the chin just right

Don’t be too loud or too quiet, but I got all this fight

And now I see it clear with every passing of each year

I deserve to be here

And every time I fall, I crawl back like an animal

My focus is powerful.”

I knew I was going to love Self Esteem when I first caught her set at Glastonbury a few years ago, referencing 1990 Madonna with her black suit and corset. What made me stop and watch was that instead of the iconic John Paul Gaultier conical bra each breast was covered with the dome of Meadowhall Shopping Centre in Sheffield. At that point I didn’t know that Rebecca Lucy Taylor was born there but I could see she had a sense of humour, a sense of where she was from and had something very powerful to say as the above lyrics from her song Focus to Power show. In the intervening years Self Esteem has become a creative force with three solo albums, including A Complicated Woman this year. She had a Mercury Prize nomination for her album Prioritise Pleasure in 2022 and was the BBC Music Introducing act in 2021. She is not just a singer, she’s a multi-instrumentalist and has composed for theatre and became a West End lead in 2023/24 playing Sally Bowles in Cabaret. She’s been awarded an honorary doctorate in music from the University of Sheffield and a portrait of her hangs in the National Gallery. Now she has written a memoir, bringing together notes and lyrics, journal entries and observations on life as a woman in the 21st Century, referencing relationships, abuse, self-worth, creativity and living under the weight of the impossible expectations we impose on young women. The blurb refers to it as a ‘subversive anti-Bible’ and a ‘cathartic scream of a book’ and it is raw, emotional and so incredibly exposing. I will be buying it for my stepdaughters. 

The narrative is jagged and feels unfinished, a structure that underlines the theme of being the ‘finished’ article something that applies to both the professional and personal self. Creative work never feels fully done. I always imagined that when writing a book I would know when it was complete and I would feel satisfied that it was finished. A piece of writing is always open to change, but we have to let it go at some point and finishing is a collaborative process with mentors, agents, editors and might end up looking different to what you expected. Similarly as people we are never finished, the self is not one fixed thing and can be influenced by mood, something we watched, whether we slept well or not and interactions with others. I think we imagine as children that there’s a point where we become an adult and our self is a fixed thing, but the self is fluid and open to change until the last day we’re alive. The author writes that she wakes up knowing it’s going to be a day when her brain is against her. So out of all the options open she decides on the middle ground: 

‘Ultimately doing nothing garnished by a little of what I as a child imagined being an adult would be. A coffee in a cafe, walk to the cinema, watch an art house film alone, walk home.’ 

It’s almost a fake it till you make it idea. The self is just a raw block of clay but we still go out there, pretending to do what we think adults should.

Self Esteem at Glastonbury 2022

Toxic relationships are also a huge part of the book and it’s clear there was one in particular that was coercive and damaging. Tiny little snippets of information are dropped about him and I identified strongly with how she feels at these times. She addresses him remembering that: ‘ he made sure to take at least two pieces of jigsaw and hide them so it could finish it himself.’ It made me shiver with recognition. My heart broke for her in this paragraph: 

“I’ll never forget the first time it cracked and he became someone else. I spent that night trying to sleep on the floor and reaching back up to him in his single bed, sleeping soundly. Offering my hand over and over through the night. – And forever he held back. Each tendon in his fingers finally gracing me with tension. And in that moment the sickness in my stomach was gone and the addiction to his acceptance began.” 

She clearly spent years trying to please this person, to be enough but not too much. Enough in the right way that was acceptable to him. A rollercoaster of arguments followed by apologies to make things nice again, a blissful few weeks when he’s happy because she made herself smaller, then a withdrawal of affection, hurtful comments and arguments. It’s a place I’ve been and it only ended when I accepted I was enough, just as I was. I still feel sick to my stomach when something takes me back there and this really hit home. As she says, ‘tell me anyone who left when they should have.’ She also addresses the inevitable question of children, something women are always asked and I have noticed that I make a lot more sense to some friends now I have stepdaughters. The author wishes she could just have one, now, not because she wants one just because it would be done and people would stop asking. They ask as if you’ve forgotten to do it. There’s a point in the book though where change begins and it’s in a letter, because unsent letters have such power. It’s a letting go leaving the path clear to be whatever.

We get the sense of a person who has a huge and imaginative inner world, but is hampered by her own mind throwing out options, constantly questioning whether this or that is the right thing to do. There’s a very busy internal critic here and while the author may be an over-thinker and struggle with anxiety, I think this second-guessing herself is a habit many women have. It starts with parental pressures of what a girl should be, educational expectations influenced by gender, societal expectations of what an adult woman should want and how successful she should be. It’s as if feminism succeeded in giving women more choice, but also more expectations rather than equality. Yes of course we can have a career, but then you must go home and more than a fair share of housework, cooking, laundry and having the mental load of who eats what, which week a friend is coming to stay and an encyclopaedic knowledge of where every object belonging each family member might be found. On top of that are grooming standards, the endless opinions on whether women should age naturally or have surgery, when they should stop wearing short skirts and how to keep their sex lives spicy. No one asks a man when he’s going to fit in having a child or whether he should sacrifice his career for his family. This pressure is described beautifully here as it runs throughout the narrative alongside the extra pressures of being creative and a famous woman. Everyone talks about America Ferrarra’s speech in the Barbie film about what a woman is but I find the author’s words much more affecting as she writes a poem about herself as the woman she feels society wants her to be. A woman who eats the right things, who makes money but stays generous and humble, who is modern and desirable, but above all things maternal. It reads like a modern fairy tale.

‘I had one thousand friends and each and every one was happy with me, and felt I had given them enough time and attention’. 

It feels like slicing yourself into a thousand different pieces to be everything and keep everyone happy and they all think you’re amazing, but you’re still slicing yourself. It takes therapy, age and self-acceptance to throw off these expectations and doubts. In amongst this torrent of emotions there is a down to earth feel and a sense of humour that comes out a lot in lists – ‘things I should have said no to’ being one. There are also blunt truths that she clearly can’t say to the person but records in her diary – ‘I want to be fucked like that but not have to hear about your Edinburgh show.” I loved this directness, tempered with humour. It also shows how hard it can be for some women to say what they want and don’t want without judgement. 

She gives us an insight into how those judgements are magnified in the music industry, where you’re trying to get your creative work out there but are being told you’d sell better if you wrote a certain way or were a bit more attractive. If she’d compromised she’d have a record deal by now, she’s told, why is she so difficult? This is a tale we’ve heard again and again in the music industry but it has to keep being said till something changes. We’ve heard it from the incredible Raye who wrote for other people for years because her own stuff didn’t fit in a specific box, or Cat Burns who writes about how difficult it is to know how to be the human everyone expects. Paloma Faith is an incredible inspiration and I watched a clip of her speaking to students at the university graduation. She has delved into music, fashion, writing, broadcasting and art and she passed on an incredible bit of advice – she has always been brimming with ideas and would worry that she couldn’t fix on one way to get these thoughts and ideas out there. She remembered a conversation with one of the tutors who said she didn’t have to fit all of her ideas into one mould. One idea might be a brilliant book, rather than trying to condense it into a song but another might be better suited to fashion or art. She didn’t have to fit into one mould. I think Rebecca is the embodiment of that idea, brim full of ideas and happy to range across music gigs, theatre shows, dance, tv appearances and memoir writing. The point is the creativity, not the medium. 

I can think of so many women who can take something from this book and it will sit happily up on my shelf with writing from Caitlin Moran and Paloma Faith, hugely creative and intelligent women with a lot to say. It renewed something I’ve been wrestling with in my own head now I’m hitting menopause and middle age – it’s ok not to ‘grow up’ but take joy in every new incarnation of yourself and the changes it brings. It’s subversive in a world where we’re told we should be striving to stay young and relevant. to be unhappy getting older. I found so much inspiration in this memoir, both personal and creative, as well as a wonderful feeling of being seen. 

Posted in Banned Books

Banned Books Week – Lady Chatterley’s Lover

Defending free expression has become a challenge. Words seem to matter more than ever and their impact. Just having an X account in the past week has been painful if you have empathy. It’s a battle for control where the desperate need to counter someone’s post, fights with common sense. By replying, even if it’s scathing, we have entered the arena and boosted that person’s profile. On the other side there are more people taking offence, on their own behalf and on the behalf of others. In this endless spiral of offence and discrimination it can be easy to become apathetic. It’s a political strategy the Kremlin has been using for years, bombard the people with so much opinion and disinformation that they become completely overwhelmed and withdraw. In this war of words, art is a form of activism, said the publisher Crystal Mahey-Morgan in an interview published online this week and as more books seemingly disappear from schools and libraries in America, we have to think carefully about the books we fight for. If we’re asserting that all books matter, then that applies equally to the books we like and those we don’t. If we’re saying books that offend others can’t be banned, we’re fighting equally for books we find distasteful or are offended by. There are books I rather not have read – there were definitely parts of American Psycho I could have done without, but I would never say they shouldn’t exist. Yet we seem to be stuck in a world where various groups in society want to ban or cancel books that don’t align with their views or misrepresent them. Even the writer’s behaviour, political views and private life can contribute to the moral panic around their work and our permission to read them. J.K. Rowling is a case in point and the controversy extends to her Robert Galbraith books which I still read. I grew up a long time before the internet and the cancel culture and I know that my ability to separate art from the artist is frowned upon. I want to talk to you about one of my favourite banned books and it’s the one people remember most – Lady Chatterley’s Lover by D.H.Lawrence. 

An adaptation of Lady Chatterley’s Lover has come to Netflix, where streamed shows are probably the 21st Century’s most popular creator of water cooler moments. The fact that this banned story is there for everyone to watch in their own homes would have shocked the 1960’s general public. The story is a simple one, about a young married woman (Connie Chatterly) and her husband’s gamekeeper (Oliver Mellors), and the forbidden love between them. First published privately in 1928, it took until 1959 for a ban on the book to be lifted in the U.S., and then 1960 when an uncensored version was published in the United Kingdom. Lawrence’s novel was also banned for obscenity in Canada, Australia, India, and Japan. People were genuinely shocked by the explicit descriptions of sex, use of four-letter words, and depiction of a relationship between an upper-class woman and a working-class man. To my mind, the most outrageous part of the book was the author’s portrayal of female sexual pleasure. In fact, Sean Bean’s ‘we came off together that time m’lady’ still lives rent free in my head. Maybe that’s because I spent most of the 1990’s dreaming, like the Vicar of Dibley, that Sean would come striding in and say ‘come on lass’ beckoning me with a single nod towards the door. I believed in him and Joely Richardson as those characters in the Ken Loach adaptation, more so than many others I’ve seen. Although I do have memory of going to see a more explicit French version of the book, wedged between a group of elderly ladies who gasped every time they saw a penis and a man who had a large bag of sweets that he would rummage in, very forcefully, at certain parts of the film. I moved seats in the interval. 

Once I’d read the book, in my teens, I hated the way people talked about it. In my dad’s family, any mention was met with raised eyebrows and Monty Python’s ‘a nudge is as good as a wink’ type of humour. My mum loved D.H.Lawrence and I could see it bothered her to have him relegated to the role of pornographer. My dad’s brothers didn’t have a single bookshelf back in the 1970s and still don’t. They would come to our house with its massive bookshelves and ask ‘have you read them all? It was a question I never really understood. Did they think we were bluffing? Mum let me plunder her bookshelves all the time and this is why I know it isn’t just a ‘dirty book’. If I wanted to read something dirty I’d go for her Jackie Collins, Judith Krantz or Lace by Shirley Conran. I never reached for this as a prurient read, because it isn’t about sex. It’s about love. 

“Sexual intercourse began

In nineteen sixty-three

(Which was rather late for me) –

Between the end of the Chatterley ban

And the Beatles’ first LP.” 

Wrote Larkin and perhaps that’s why my Uncles and Aunties raised their eyebrows, being teenagers pre-1960 and very unlikely to pick up a book by D.H. Lawrence. In fact once they’d seen the naked wrestling of the film adaptation Women in Love, they were convinced Lawrence was a pornographer. My mum happily shared these films with me as a teenager with no comment or explanation, she just let me make sense of it for myself and I knew there was something more complex at play here. 

There is so much more to Lady Chatterley than the sex, although the sex is glorious and we’ll finish with that. Firstly it was fitting that when Penguin did publish in 1959 and challenged the previous year’s Obscene Publications Act, it was sold deliberately at a price that meant the working class and women could afford to buy it. Objections mainly came from the middle and upper classes, who weren’t necessarily concerned that Connie Chatterley committed adultery, but were objecting to her choice of lover. In fact it was this discrepancy between the classes that finally forced the court case, echoing the attitude of Clifford Chatterley. He was quite matter of fact about his wife taking a lover. He realised that his war injury would force Connie into a lifetime of celibacy and no chance of becoming a mother. He also wouldn’t have an heir. In one conversation he is quite open about the fact he doesn’t expect Connie’s fidelity, in fact he thought a lover might be the best thing for her. At least then they could have a child who would take on the title and estate. However, she was to choose someone from their class and he’d like to meet him. This turned Connie’s stomach for two reasons, she didn’t want to be passed from one Lord to another like a chattel and secondly she was shocked that Clifford didn’t seem to care.  She’d expected there would still be some intimacy between them, even if it was confined to the care he needed. Yet, he chooses to employ a woman from the village who’s nursed during the war and there is something intimate in her care of him, something he gains some pleasure or comfort from. This leaves Connie free, but to do what. All their needs are taken care of by servants, she doesn’t need to work and while she does check in on tenants, they are isolated and she has few friends. She’s married and not married. She wants to find someone she has desire and feelings for, not just to jump in bed with someone of the right class and hope it scratches an itch. She wants true intimacy and she has that with Mellors. What we’re seeing in this affair is the breakdown of the aristocracy after WW1 and in this love story is the mixing of different social strata and the changing roles of women. 

There’s also a massive shift for the working classes between the two World Wars. We see Clifford visit the colliery he owns and the workers are restless. They’ve been through terrible experiences on the battlefield and to come back and slot into their old social status, working under a man they’ve fought with in the trenches doesn’t sit right. They want better wages, better living standards and for the respect to work both ways. We can also see mechanisation creeping in. Clifford is ready to try anything new, whether it’s his new motorised bath chair or mechanising the pit. There’s an uncomfortable scene where Clifford uses his chair to walk with Connie in the grounds, but it becomes stuck in the mud. He angrily calls for Mellors to push the chair and he gamely tries to climb on the back and weigh it down enough for the wheels to grip. It’s a metaphor for the death of the aristocracy, all while Connie looks on awkwardly and Clifford becomes more and more frustrated. 

Then there’s Connie and Mellors (Oliver) who are an interesting mix and their sexual tension is palpable but endearingly awkward at first. Mellors clearly desires her but doesn’t know how to treat a woman of her class. That’s not to say Mellors is stupid, because he isn’t. He’s self-taught and he reads too. Their conversations are on the same level as they get to know each other, but their dialect shows the huge difference socially and geographically. Connie has an openness that comes from being the daughter of an artist and it has always afforded her a huge amount of freedom. She and sister Hilda were expected to have lovers, to drive themselves around to parties and different stately homes. They have the opportunity to be upper class, particularly now that Connie is mistress of the Chatterley house, but are also eccentric and bohemian. They can use this to push the boundaries a little and Connie is encouraged to by her sister and her father when they visit near the beginning of the book, noticing she is pale, listless and a little depressed. They see the chasm that has opened up between husband and wife leaving them with the appearance of a marriage, but missing all the elements that make a marriage work – a shared humour, joint outlook, deep conversation and intimacy. 

It’s no wonder that as Connie and Mellors think about a longer term relationship they know they’ll have to emigrate to somewhere new like the USA or Canada. These are the places where a relationship like theirs would be accepted. We see the incongruity of it in their early sex scenes where they move from intimacy to Mellors calling her m’lady because at the same time as being under him she will always be over him. There is tenderness between them, something more than sex. There’s real care and Mellors’s link to nature is important too, such as the first time they meet when he is placing pheasant chicks in their new enclosure. She sees a gentleness and a nurturing side that Clifford does not have. He would care if she was to be with another man and he wants to her to enjoy their encounters, not just him. When she does orgasm with him he comments on it and how special it is when that happens between a couple. He makes her feel safe. They have a joint childlike joy with nature, running around naked in the rain and threading wildflowers in each other’s pubic hair. He wants to be with her after the orgasm, which she hasn’t experienced before. I’m touched by this book and I’m infuriated that it was treated as pornography when it’s a comment on WW1, disability, masculinity, nature and so much more. It’s also a touching love story and you’ll root for this couple. They have an immediate connection, that goes beyond the boundaries of their class. They see each other as two equal human beings (an equality that Clifford disputes even exists) and recognise the loneliness in each other. Even if you do find the sex scenes awkward and you’ve never read this book due to its reputation, go give it a chance. 

The political and religious climate in the USA has seen 16,000 book bans in public schools nationwide since 2021, a number not seen since the Red Scare McCarthy era of the 1950s. This censorship is being pushed by conservative groups of people, such as evangelical Christian and has spread to nearly every state. It targets books about race and racism or individuals of color and also books on LGBTQ+ topics as well those for older readers that have sexual references or discuss sexual violence. One of the most banned authors across America is Jodi Picoult with her novels Nineteen Minutes (school shootings), Small Great Things (Racism) and A Spark of Light (abortion).  In the 2023-2024 school year, PEN America found more than 10,000 book bans affecting more than 4,000 unique titles. Here are a few of them: 

The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison and The Colour Purple by Alice Walker 

Both these books are banned for themes of racism, sexual abuse and assault. Both break the silence around domestic violence and depict how tough life is for black women in the early 20th Century. 

The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood – the book that some people believe is coming to life before their eyes has themes of enslavement, sexual assault, misuse of religion and power. In a future where the elite class are unable to have children ‘handmaids’ are kept in the family home to provide the couple with children. 

Call Me By Your Name by Andre Aciman – is a first love story that springs up between a teenager and an older man, cited for depictions of homosexuality 

The Kite Runner by Khalid Hosseini – was put forward by a group of mums concerned about their children reading an account of ‘homosexual rape’ but Hosseini fought the ban with a letter that talked about the book’s insight into Afghan lives and inspired children to ‘desire to volunteer, learn more, be more tolerant of others, mend broken ties, muster the courage to do the right and just thing, no matter how difficult.’

Small Great Things by Jodi Picoult – begins with a black midwife assigned to a woman in early labour who is then refused by the father, a white supremacist. When the baby is ill and there is only one midwife available does she touch the baby or wait for someone else? This really does have impact and made me think about my own privilege. 

For more info on Banned Books Week visit ⬇️⬇️

https://bannedbooksweek.org/

Posted in Netgalley

The Light a Candle Society by Ruth Hogan

Ruth Hogan is one of my cozy authors. These are books I read when I need comfort and boy did I need it last week. I’m having the kitchen renovated, not just new units but ripping out the floor and ceiling, putting in new joists and laying a floor that’s been so wonky I’ve tripped over it a couple of times. We’ve taken out an island that was hogging all the space and finally new units are slowly going in. I’ve been without a kitchen sink for a fortnight and my other half has wired the oven up in the garage so everything we cook has to be oven or microwave only and I keep meeting neighbours as I’m walking past with oven gloves and a tray of chicken kievs. I’m washing up in the bath tub (not while I’m in it) so this time last week I lost my marbles and we’ve been staying in a holiday cottage nearby for some quiet. So I’ve spent a lovely week being mostly unreachable, laying back in a huge bubble bath with a view, and reading my cozy books. 

So let’s talk about the book which was a lovely oasis of calm in my personal chaos. It covered a subject close to my heart. My first job in mental health was as a support worker and since I lived in a small town I would often see clients I worked with on days off and even for years after I left. These were usually single people, living alone and only just managing to function with the basics. They were so isolated and when I stopped working I would volunteer at a local community centre twice a week to have a drop-in place for people struggling or feeling isolated. Sometimes though I would find out someone had died and if I wasn’t too late I would go to the funeral. However if someone is estranged from their family due to their mental health history and lived alone I wouldn’t always be able to find out when and where it was. I hated the idea of no one being there, so I immediately understood our main character George and where he was coming from. He has lost his wife Audrey and takes her flowers every week down at the cemetery. It’s there he meets Edwin, a local undertaker who appears to be lurking by the bins. He explains that he’s watching the new council worker responsible for the funerals of those who had died without family or funds of their own. Edwin is making sure that new recruit Niall knows what he’s doing and giving the person the reverence and dignity they can. George hates the idea of such a lonely send off with no one to witness your journey beyond this life. He muses about it and talks to his friends at the Dog and Duck pub where he goes to the quiz night. He would like to mark these funerals in some way so he invites Edwin to join his group at the pub for a chat. From a simple wish to be there for these send offs the Light a Candle Society is born. 

Like all Ruth’s books this has a wonderful cast of interesting and quirky characters, many of whom do live alone. There’s Roxy, George’s friend and colleague from the library where he works part-time. She has an alternative look, with tattoos and piercings and is probably not the person you’d expect to be so close with an older widower. Slowly we’re drawn into their circle. There’s Elena from the florist who does George’s flowers for Audrey every week and would like to make a contribution to the funerals. There’s Captain and his dog Sailor, one of the library regulars who comes in and reads most days. He talks very little about himself, only seeming to warm up when people pet his canine companion. Then there’s Briony who works for the local paper and decided to write a piece about the funerals, something she can take to her rather dismissive and sneaky boss and show him she can write more than a few words about someone’s giant vegetable. Her downstairs neighbour Allegra is an absolute riot and I would have loved to be friends with her. She has led a rather colourful life and acts like a mentor to Briony, pushing her to trust her own instincts and talent. Briony needs her combination of feminism, cocktails and a kindly kick up the behind. 

The funerals grow when Edwin tips George off about a house clearance firm, who log all the deceased belongings, sorting through them for valuables and taking them away to sell. He agrees to tip George off if he’s doing the house of someone who has no relatives or friends, allowing him to come to the house and get more of a sense of who they were. From there he can write a eulogy that matters and resonates with anyone who does come along unexpectedly. The author has created short chapters that take us back in that person’s life in between the main narrative, showing us a moment from their life and the sometimes devastating circumstances of their death. It’s a reminder that no matter who it is or how their lives have ended, we can’t judge because we haven’t lived their life or experienced the unique and sometimes traumatic circumstances they find themselves in. This resonated strongly with me having had clients with addictions and mental illnesses that have driven family away. I was so touched by one young man who had the dream and potential of become a professional footballer. I was also touched by Captain who slowly builds a relationship with Roxy for a very particular purpose. When we’re taken back into his life it explains completely why a man called Captain lived so far from the sea. I may have shed a tear or two there.

As the society grows it takes in people who would have otherwise been alone. There are younger people like Briony or Niall who have often moved to start a career they’ve longed for, but have to then make a life far away from home where they don’t know anyone. There are older people who have retired and perhaps lost their partner who have the time and the enthusiasm for the society. However the society is also a lifesaver for them, getting them out of the house and making new connections. They’ve needed to make friends and have a home from home like the Dog and Duck to meet new people and of course, come to quiz night. There are potential romances but they’re kept quite low key because they’re not the story’s focus. The focus is one friendship and how the society isn’t just honouring those who have died, it’s making sure that lonely people who might easily have become one of the statistics, are looked after. It made me think of people I’ve let go off in life. Those I’ve lost touch with when one of us has moved or has had a partner who isn’t keen on me or vice versa. It reminded me that when someone pushes you away, it might be the time when they need you the most.  

Meet the Author

My new novel – THE LIGHT A CANDLE SOCIETY – is out in NOW! It’s about a man called George McGlory – recent widower, part-time librarian, pub quiz enthusiast and lover of loud shirts – who witnesses a public health funeral and is deeply moved by the sight of the lonely coffin with no flowers and no mourners in attendance. George believes that everyone deserves a decent send-off and decides to do something about what he calls these ‘lonely funerals’ – and so THE LIGHT A CANDLE SOCIETY is formed. The book contains a number of short stories which give a glimpse into the lives of those whom George and his friends take it upon themselves to honour and remember in their own unique way. Despite it being a story about funerals, it’s full of life, love, humour, community and human connections. And, of course, there is a very special dog!

THE PHOENIX BALLROOM, MADAME BUROVA, THE KEEPER OF LOST THINGS, THE WISDOM OF SALLY RED SHOES and QUEENIE MALONE’S PARADISE HOTEL – are out now in all formats.

I was brought up in a house full of books, and grew up with an unsurprising passion for reading and writing. I also loved (and still do) dogs and ponies, seaside piers (particularly the Palace Pier in Brighton) snow globes and cemeteries. And potatoes. So of course, I was going to be a vet, show jumper, or gravedigger. Or potato farmer.

Or maybe a writer…

Posted in Personal Purchase

Don’t Let Him In by Lisa Jewell

There was a pivotal moment in this book that made me go cold. It sent me back twelve years when I was trying to understand how someone could treat others so badly, in what seemed like a deliberately cruel way. I remembered something my counsellor said at the time; I was spending all my time trying to work out someone’s motivation and what had happened in life to make them behave that way, instead of considering the impact on me and how unacceptable the behaviour was. Some people just don’t think like others. Nick is a tall silver fox with a lot of charm and a knack with the ladies. He seems to know exactly what will please someone. Exactly the right gift to soften someone. To get under their defences. It’s almost as if he has empathy,  but don’t be fooled. He’s just wearing a human suit. 

Nina and her daughter Ash live in the bougie seaside town of Whitstable in Kent. They are grieving for husband and father Paddy, who was killed when a man having a mental health crisis pushed him into an oncoming train. Ash has been living at home since her own mental health deteriorated. She was living in a house in London with two other girls but she developed a crush on her boss, that turned into an obsession. She claimed to have letters from him, but it turned out she’d written them herself and she was eventually diagnosed with borderline personality disorder. She’d just come home to recover when Paddy was killed. When her mum receives a parcel in the post Ash is intrigued. It’s beautifully wrapped, with a note inside from a man who has heard about Paddy’s death. He used to work with him in the 1990s when Paddy was just starting out. The gift wrapped box contains a Zippo lighter he borrowed but never returned. Since then Paddy has built a restaurant empire, with his flagship restaurant in Whitstable and two others down the coast. He benefitted greatly from the area’s development into the weekend getaway spot for Londoners. Nick’s note explains he is now a troubleshooter, brought into eateries and hotels to assess what’s not working and put it right. There is of course a number, should Nina wish to thank him for his thoughtfulness. Over the next few months Nick and Nina start to WhatsApp each other and then go out for a drink. Ash is glad to see her mum with a glow, but there’s something about Nick that’s just ‘off’. She can’t be sure and maybe she’s viewing this situation through her own grief or her personality disorder, but something isn’t right. She needs to find out more about him before he becomes a permanent fixture. 

It’s so hard to review Lisa’s books without letting things slip, but I’ll try my best. Most authors might have written a thriller based purely on the scenario above – is it the mentally ill daughter or the mum’s new boyfriend that’s the problem? Slowly drawing out the tension of whether she’s right or so unwell that she’s dreadfully mistaken. Lisa Jewell isn’t most authors so she takes that premise and builds an absolutely labyrinthine mystery that’s absolutely spellbinding. In multiple narratives and timelines we meet various women who are struggling in their relationships, all of which are linked by strange or abusive behaviour. There are different behaviours: gaslighting, manipulation, financial embezzlement and even disappearances. In some cases these women are married and have children, in others they’re older and widowed. There were so many conundrums, not least how these men are affording the lifestyle they’re living. Meanwhile, Ash has decided to take help from ‘Mad’ Jane Trevally, her dad’s old girlfriend from the 1990s. Surely if Nick was around for a while, Jane would remember him. Jane did have some obsessive qualities of her own back in the day, so maybe she’s not the best person for Ash to be hanging out with. She knows her mum would be furious. However, when they do meet, Jane tells Ash that Paddy categorically did not have a lighter. He was always taking the matches from the kitchen or cadging a light from other people, so much so that it was an ‘in’ joke with friends and customers. So whose lighter was in that parcel and why did he send it? 

I galloped through this book as we went backwards and forwards in time, every time learning a little more and inching towards the truth. I loved the fragile Ash who is at that stage of recovery where she doesn’t fully trust her own mind. Is she making too much of this? Is she just paranoid? Worst of all, if she finds something questionable, will her Mum even believe her? She’s so lonely at this point, she doesn’t have many friends to talk to and feels bad she’s had to bounce back home at her age. Her mum deserves to be happy and she might ruin it all. Just when you think you have all the answers, the author takes it to the next level! There were twists here that I wasn’t expecting and I felt very relieved that I got away from my own situation relatively easily, if not unscathed. This book is like a twisted knot in a necklace. It takes a long time to loosen it, but suddenly the whole thing unravels before your eyes. This is masterful thriller that absolutely begs to be devoured in a couple of sittings, from an author who gets better and better. 

Meet the Author

LISA JEWELL was born in London in 1968.

Her first novel, Ralph’s Party, was the best- selling debut novel of 1999. Since then she has written another twenty novels, most recently a number of dark psychological thrillers, including The Girls, Then She Was Gone, The Family Upstairs, The Family Remains and The Night She Disappeared, all of which were Richard & Judy Book Club picks.

Lisa is a New York Times and Sunday Times number one bestselling author who has been published worldwide in over thirty languages. She lives in north London with her husband and two daughters.

Posted in Squad Pod Collective

Watching You by Helen Fields

A few of Helen Field’s characters come together in this gripping novel that starts with someone being stalked in Jupiter Artland, the park where Laura Ford’s ‘Weeping Girls’ statues are situated. They become the only witnesses to an unspeakable act. It’s a great setting for a murder with five sculptures, each one of a little girl weeping in different poses. I’m a lover of public art but these are genuinely creepy and have an uncanny quality to them. I can’t think of a more fitting place to be hit with a shovel and buried alive – one of my worst ever fears. It’s a bold beginning and we get three more murders like this, each with a narrator who sounds almost bored and melancholy. It’s as if they’re present, able to recount every detail, but detached at the same time. They’re the literary equivalent of the archetypal TV pathologist weighing a pair of lungs one moment and eating a sandwich the next. It’s clear that Lively, Salter and the MIT have a serial killer on their hands but with each murder so different, how will they build a case? Superintendent Overbeck engages Dr Connie Woolwine to profile the killer and run the investigation, but it does seem to the team that the crimes and potential suspect don’t fully fit. 

The story has several threads, each focusing on different characters. We go back a few years to a young artist named Molly who is being stalked and harassed with even parcels of rotting fruit and maggots turning up on her doorstep. She feels watched when outside and inside she is harassed by parcels and online rumours, or even worse deep fake videos. There’s the usual porn, but stranger and more sinister scenarios like her hurting an animal. It’s taken a toll on her mental health and her career. With the police unable to help she sinks further. We also have a character called Karl Smith, a carer for his father who had a stroke not long after his wife had a cardiac arrest. While surgeon Beth Waterfall tries everything to save her she dies on the operating table. So when his complaint against the hospital isn’t upheld Karl starts to see his mother. It’s mainly at home and she’s very unsettling. She’s clearly never been a nice woman to her son. She is a grotesque figure who Karl finds repellent. Not only is she unkempt and smelly, she likes to unsettle Karl by sitting very close and wafting her rotten breath into his face. She is cruel and determined that he keep up his campaign against Beth Waterfall. DI Sam Lively watches Beth try to save one of the victims, a homeless man with multiple stab wounds, and they strike up a friendship and a fledgling relationship. So when Sam receives a wound to his neck and it’s Beth that treats him, she takes him home afterwards to recover. It’s a gentle romance that works really well and he finds out Beth had a daughter, who took her own life after a campaign of stalking and harassment. The puzzle pieces are coming together, but I knew there would still be some surprises in store and I was gripped, waiting to find out if my suspicions were right. Desperately hoping they weren’t. 

Dr Connie Woolwine is an acquired taste, but is always fascinating. Here I could see how she could really get under the skin of both suspects and colleagues. Brodie accuses her of snobbery, but it’s not that simple. Connie seems to relish having her suspicions about someone, then having them confirmed. She often tells people what she thinks without considering their reaction and it’s this compulsion to see what makes someone tick that might come across as thinking she knows better. It’s not a class snobbery, it’s an intellectual snobbery. I just love working people out, because the complexities of our brains are simply amazing. I’ve recently been reading up on Functional Neurological Disorder where neurological symptoms are present in the patient, without any disease activity. It’s as if the brain simply forgets how to send and receive messages from certain parts of body but without any of the disease activity common to neurological diseases like MS or Parkinson’s Disease. Symptoms range from functional weakness in a limb, to dramatic paralysis and seizures. It’s amazing how powerful the brain is and how it can be doing something so disabling in the background without knowing why, although it’s thought that the brain processes might mental stress or trauma as physical pain. However, this is nothing compared to Connie’s findings about the brain producing a brilliant twist at the end. I’m always pulled in two directions with Connie, she’s utterly brilliant but more than a little odd (talking to corpses) and manipulative, particularly where Brodie is concerned. She knows the power she has over him, but isn’t honest about it. She seems to fully relax and be herself when she visits Midnight, who is living a bucolic existence in Devon with her sister Dawn who has CP. With Dawn, ‘Wooly’ can drop her ‘therapist’s demeanour’ and just be in the moment. Dawn has no guile and has never learned to hide her emotions.

There’s some heart-stopping action here, especially in the finale which is brilliant. Salter and Connie are quite the team, with Salter able to jump in and secure a suspect while Connie has them otherwise engaged. I love that Helen’s female characters are mothers, carers and wives, whilst also competent at work, even formidable. Overbeck is brilliant, always holding MIT to a high standard, ready with a stern talking to and wears three inch heels all day! She tells Connie she’ll give her the name of the her nail technician because her nails are disgusting and it did make me smile. It’s a novelty to see Connie on the back foot for a change. The murder scenes are genuinely scary or moving. I was especially affected by the murder of Mrs Singh who is a lonely older lady, the victim of her own success. She made the huge move from India to Scotland in the hope of her children having a better life and he does, but that means they’re usually far away from you. She describes a boy who grew up with a Scottish accent, as if he was already moving away from her. The many pictures of her grandchildren attest to the distant between them. Her death is brutal and desperately sad. I loved how Helen brought all the puzzle parts together, despite such disparate victims who had nothing in common, not even their deaths. I could see Karl Smith had a rage in him but it mainly seemed to be for his own parents, could he be murdering complete strangers? I became more addicted as the novel went on until last night when I couldn’t leave the last few chapters and stayed up till 2am. Now I keep falling asleep. This is such a psychologically fascinating thriller that’s given me lots of side reading to keep up with Connie’s final verdicts. I can’t wait to see where she and Brodie end up next. 

Out now from Avon Books

Meet the Author

A Sunday Times and million copy best-selling author, Helen is a former criminal and family law barrister. Every book in the Callanach series has claimed an Amazon #1 bestseller flag. ‘Perfect Kill’ was longlisted for the Crime Writers Association Ian Fleming Steel Dagger in 2020, and others have been longlisted for the McIlvanney Prize, Scottish crime novel of the year. Helen also writes as HS Chandler, and has released legal thriller ‘Degrees of Guilt’. In 2020 Perfect Remains was shortlisted for the Bronze Bat, Dutch debut crime novel of the year. In 2022, Helen was nominated for Best Crime Novel and Best Author in the Netherlands. Now translated into more than 20 languages, and also selling in the USA, Canada & Australasia, Helen’s books have won global recognition. She has written standalone novels, The Institution, The Last Girl To Die, These Lost & Broken Things and The Shadow Man. She regularly commutes between West Sussex, USA and Scotland. Helen can be found on X @Helen_Fields

Posted in Netgalley

We Live Here Now by Sarah Pinborough

Emily and Freddie have been through the mill of late. After a terrible accident when they were on holiday, Freddie has surprised her with the home of their dreams. Emily fell from a cliff on a group holiday and not only did she break her leg in several places, she then developed sepsis and almost lost her life. Now she’s in recovery, still walking on a stick and has been thrust into a whole new life. Larkin Lodge sits just outside a village on the edge of the moors and could be their dream home, but Emily can’t believe Freddie made this huge decision without her. The house is gothic and in the mists and murk of winter it looks a little isolated and spooky. However, she can see that in spring the views will be incredible. As Freddie continues to work in London, Emily spends a lot of time alone and starts to feel uneasy. Sudden drafts and disgusting smells, then heavy footsteps moving across the second floor are unnerving. Freddie is convinced she’s struggling with post concussion syndrome and calls her ITU consultant for advice – much to Emily’s disgust for doing this behind her back. As she starts to look into the history of the house and questions some of the locals, all the different parts of her life start to fall apart. Secrets start to come to light and Emily wonders if the house is having an influence on her. 

Freddie made me angry and I couldn’t understand what had kept them together so long. We hear both his and Emily’s viewpoint in alternate chapters. We don’t know how he felt about the ‘pre-accident’ Emily, but here he seems irritable and edgy. He makes Emily doubt her own sanity and even when he has experience of the same things he keeps it to himself. He talks behind her back to the vicar and her consultant – but we can’t help but wonder if it could it all be in Emily’s head? Yet even when she tries to forgive him for his actions he seems strangely disappointed and even angry. He says he hates her superior tone and victim mentality. Is he determined to think the worst of her or is he just a concerned husband looking for answers? They meet a married couple who once lived at the lodge and now live elsewhere in the village. They seem unscathed by their years at the house. He is an artist and loves to paint young models, with his incredibly chilled wife seemingly happy with any potential dalliance. Emily can’t imagine being that accepting of the same with her own marriage. How do they fit in to this strange puzzle?

Emily is a sympathetic narrator although she’s not entirely reliable. It must be so disorientating to wake from a coma and know that your body has been present but your mind has been somewhere else. Added to that is the risk of ICU psychosis – a common condition causing auditory hallucinations, nightmares, sleep disturbances and paranoia. One in three ICU patients are affected after spending five days in the unit so one of her experiences could be explained away. However it’s important that those who love her, listen to her and believe her experience, otherwise it feels like a betrayal. She is desperately looking for answers, researching the archives and talking to locals. Being disturbed in her sleep means she’s up and about in the night and after they throw a party at the lodge she stumbles across another secret and doesn’t know who trust. Would she ever have had thoughts like this before the house? The author cleverly creates tension between what we know about Freddie and Emily and what they know about each other. They’re both keeping secrets and Freddie projects all their problems on to her. Even when she’s quite measured and reasonable or accepts his apologies he becomes angrier. Just occasionally he pauses and wonders where these thoughts are coming from? Is it the shock of Emily’s fall still working on him or is something more insidious at work? 

Of course it wouldn’t be a Sarah Pinborough novel without a supernatural element and this one is genuinely scary. It begins with the window on the landing, seemingly opening of it’s own accord. Then sounds on the stairs to the top floor where Emily can’t reach at the moment without severe pain. When she starts talking to older locals about the house there’s a moment that genuinely made the hair stand up on the back of my neck! The chapters from the raven’s perspective are very touching as well as creepy. He has lost his mate at the house and can’t seem to leave her, even with the promise of a new life with a beautiful young raven called Bright Wing. She can’t tempt him from the corpse of his mate, even though she’s no more than papery bones. His grief is so real and I was deeply sad for him. I was very keen to find out what link they both have to Larkin Lodge.  Was this an edge of the seat thriller or a ghost story? We’re never quite sure, but i felt compelled to keep reading and find out. Sarah Pinborough is the Queen of this type of gothic thriller and this was another brilliant read, keeping you guessing till the very end. 

Meet the Author

Sarah Pinborough is a New York Times bestselling and Sunday Times Number one and Internationally bestselling author who is published in over 25 territories worldwide. Having published more than 25 novels across various genres, her recent books include Behind Her Eyes which will air on Netflix in January 2021, Cross Her Heart, in development for UK television, and 13 Minutes in development with Netflix.

Sarah was the 2009 winner of the British Fantasy Award for Best Short Story and also the 2010 and 2014 winner of the British Fantasy Award for Best Novella, and she has four times been short-listed for Best Novel. She is also a screenwriter who has written for the BBC and is currently working on three TV projects and the film adaptation of her novel The Death House.

Her latest novel, DEAD TO HER and is a dark and twisty, sexy tale of hidden secrets and revenge in high society Savannah and has been sold for TV in the US.

Sarah lives in the historic town of Stony Stratford, the home of the Cock and Bull story, with her dog Ted.

You can follow her on Twitter @sarahpinborough

Posted in Random Things Tours

Happy Is The One by Katie Allen

Robin is exactly half way through his life. Like Mark Twain before him, Robin came into the world with Halley’s Comet in 1986 and fully expects to go out again when it returns in 2061. Recently he’s had a huge life change. He’s moved back to his home town of Eastgate to care for his sick father, who due to a disability has had one accident too many. Robin had a well-regimented life in London with girlfriend Gemma. He also had a boring well-paid job as an accountant. Now everything has been thrown up in the air and he’s living in a tiny bedroom surrounded by boxes he hasn’t unpacked. He’s trying to forge a relationship with a father who can’t communicate and who he never connected with as a child. There are childhood ghosts to face and a new connection with Astrid, fellow outsider and professor at a nearby university. She’s brutally straightforward and Robin has never met anyone like her. She’s also hiding something, but he’s hiding even more from her. Can Robin make friends, help his father and accept this is the next chapter of his life?

This was a great book that’s simply joyful to read, even while addressing some really difficult themes. Robin is a great character to spend time with. I found myself feeling quite protective of him, despite his rather pernickety ways. I could honestly feel his anxiety and he copes by planning for eventualities that might never happen. He ekes out money, setting a daily amount for a minimal food plan and then bulk shopping at Costco. He’s worked out how long his savings will last, trying to keep Dad’s care to a minimum so he can afford it for longer. He seems at odds with everyone; not communicating with his father, bickering with Jackie who is his father’s man carer, and not even trying to find old friends. I’ve been a carer and I felt how overwhelmed he is by everything when he climbs up on the roof for some peace. He has to connect in order to get this new chapter of life started. However, to do that he has to accept that this is his life for now. The daytime telly shows, the sorting of meds and lifting his dad off the loo is life. He doesn’t seem to realise that while he fights it, he remains standing still. If he accepts Astrid’s friendship, unpacks the boxes and breathes, life will get better. 

My two favourite characters are the forthright Astrid and Jackie. Astrid is a strong character and has a lot to say, but enough quirks to humour Robin and push him just a little into enjoying life. She embraces and accepts where he is in life, happily trawling Costco for savings. His relationship with her little boy is lovely too. No one can go through life as an island though and Eastgate is a small place. It’s almost inevitable that these new relationships are uncomfortably entangled with others he’s been trying to avoid. Jackie is wise and more of an asset than Robin realises as he spends weeks trying everything to avoid her – even climbing onto the roof. She’s brilliantly written because I’ve met carers like this and they’re worth their weight in gold. Nothing phases her and she is soon onto Robin’s ways. She reminded me of an incredible carer called Barbara who worked in a pair looking after my late husband. She was wider than she was tall and smoked like a chimney between calls. She was also matter of fact, never allowing him to be embarrassed about any aspect of his care. Barbara had seen it all and her stories had him in fits of laughter. I knew he was in safe hands with her, an incredible weight off my mind when I had to go in to University. Barbara passed out one day at work and died only a few days later, from a brain tumour she didn’t know she had. She was caring for people at the end of their lives, not knowing she was close to her own.

The wonderful relationship between Robin and old friend Danny felt so genuine and the way they talked to each other felt exactly like people who’ve known each other from childhood. There’s a shorthand and we start to realise some of Robin’s quirks have been there a while. You get the sense that if they were going on a bike ride Robin would spend so long getting prepped with wet weather gear and a puncture repair kit that they’d run out of time. Danny on the other hand would set off as is and get soaking wet, then tell everyone the story for years. Danny is full of life and has a great business idea to run past Robin, but can he be tempted to take the risk? Robin is eking out an existence that goes way off into the distant future, but our futures change all the time and one day he’ll start living yet another chapter. Living is right now! It’s not when we have money, or have lost weight, or when we have better health. It’s now, when we’re skint, fat and feeling ill. Whatever life looks like right now, we absolutely must live. Many people don’t get the time to waste. Of course, when we find out why Robin is so adamant about his comet theory – while being forced to evaluate his choices by a strident Astrid – it all becomes clear. A heart-breaking tale emerges, just as Robin is faced with yet another loss. He’s forced to admit why he jumped off a cliff into the water when he was a child. He thinks he can’t die, because once he survived something and can’t make sense of it. In fact immortality is the only explanation that does make sense to him. He’s doing what humans do, we subscribe meaning to events that have none. It’s just messy, terrifying, random and heart-breaking life. Katie infuses this difficult truth with beauty, humour and hope because life is beautiful and joyous too, if you let it be. 

Out 22nd May from Orenda Books

Meet the Author

Katie Allen was a journalist and columnist at Guardian and Observer, starting her career as a Reuters correspondent in Berlin and London. Her warmly funny, immensely moving literary debut novel, Everything Happens for a Reason, was based on her own devastating experience of stillbirth and was a number-one digital bestseller, with wide critical acclaim. Katie grew up in Warwickshire and now lives in South London with her family.

Posted in Netgalley, Throwback Thursday

Missing Pieces by Laura Pearson

I’ve read a little bit of Laura Pearson before, so I did come to this expecting a moving and powerful story. It didn’t disappoint. When Bea is born it should have been a healing, new chapter for the family – mum, dad and older sister Esme. However, Bea was born to a family struggling in the aftermath of a tragedy. Esme was only seven years old when her sister Phoebe died suddenly and unexpectedly. It hits Esme hard because she was supposed to be looking after her sister. Their dad Tom feels an immense weight of guilt because he shouldn’t have stayed out later than expected. Esme’s mother is also wrestling with guilt and blame, she’d briefly popped next door to help a neighbour knowing that Tom would be home imminently. This is a story of a family, years later, struggling with unimaginable loss. How can they learn to forgive each other, or themselves?

Laura splits the story into two sections: the first months after Phoebe’s death interspersed with a narrative where Bea is trying to understand what happened to her family a couple of decades later. These feelings are coming to the surface because she herself is pregnant. I really enjoyed the section in the present day as Bea searches for the truth when her parents won’t ever talk about it. It reminded me of something my mum has recently done. Her first sister, Teresa, died on Bonfire Night 1959 and although she doesn’t remember everything she does have a memory of a tiny coffin that my grandad was carrying and putting in a black car. Mum tracked down a community group who were looking for the resting place of their stillborn babies in the same area where she grew up. Back then, if there was no money for a funeral or a grave plot then a baby might have been buried in a coffin with someone else or in a grave for several bodies. Three years ago she was able to take my grandma to a ceremony at the graveyard in Liverpool where a memorial was finally in place for babies lost and buried in a pauper’s grave on the site. It’s easy to underestimate how much the death of a baby affects other children in the house and i think we all underestimated how it still affected my grandma who is now 91. 

Bea feels like she’s lost part of her identity. This loss is part of their joint family history and no one is addressing or memorialising it. Of course this is tough for other family members, all of whom blame themselves. The loss for Bea and her older sister Esme is threefold: they lost a sister, they lost the relationships and life experiences they would have had as three sisters and they lost the happy family life they might have had if their parents hadn’t been carrying the weight of all that grief and guilt. As for the other characters in the book, I did find Linda a bit of a struggle. It’s clear she’s never fully connected with Bea and when we go back in time we can see her conflicting emotions over being heavily pregnant. She is buried by her grief for Phoebe and feels bad for being pregnant again. She doesn’t want to replace Phoebe and sometimes wishes she wasn’t pregnant. A combination of fear, guilt, sadness and anger take over and she really wasn’t there for Esme or Bea, once she’s born. In the past sections there’s an oppressive atmosphere that hasn’t fully lifted, even in the girl’s adulthood. Esme can’t talk with her father so Bea doesn’t stand a chance when wanting to ask questions. It would mean delving back into the pain and communicating honestly, but no one wants to go back into the raw grief and horror of that day. Bea wonders how she can be a good mother when she has no relationship with her own. Will the family be able to rally around her, find a way to talk and become a united family again?

It’s a trademark of Laura’s books that characters are forced to talk about difficult and frightening experiences or situations they find themselves in. I love the openness and honesty these issues need and it is like a counselling process if people can start sharing and healing. I did shed some tears at times. I thought the author’s depiction of the parent’s grief was realistic and raw. We’re let into every aspect of a characters mind, no matter what their thoughts might be. I could genuinely feel these character’s emotions and pain. Yes, this is intense. Somehow through, this isn’t off-putting. We’re given just enough glimpses of hope to lift the story, personified by the new start Bea’s baby brings to the family. I found myself gripped, willing these people to give themselves a break and stop being angry with themselves and each other. This is an emotional but satisfying novel that shows healing is possible, if we’re willing to do the work. Beautifully written, emotional and ultimately hopeful. 

Out now from Boldwood Books

Meet the Author

Laura Pearson is the author of five novels. The Last List of Mabel Beaumont was a Kindle number one bestseller in the UK and a top ten bestseller in the US. Laura lives in Leicestershire, England, with her husband, their two children, and a cat who likes to lie on her keyboard while she tries to write.

Posted in Personal Purchase

Fifty Minutes by Carla Jenkins 

Therapy was meant to solve her problems, not make them worse…

Smart twenty-year-old Dani is desperate to overcome her eating disorder, leave her dead-end job and return to her hard-won place at university. Using her limited earnings, she decides to start seeing a psychotherapist.

Richard Goode is educated, sophisticated and worldly-everything Dani aspires to be. As he intuitively unpicks her self-loathing, Dani assumes the fantasies she’s developing about him live only in her head. That is, until things take a shocking turn…

Descending into a maelstrom of twisted desire, manipulation and mistrust, the power struggle between Dani and Richard escalates until she’s forced to make a decision that might finally give her the freedom she deserves.

Dani has hit rock bottom. Her eating disorder is out of control and her declining mental health has meant suspending her place at university where she was studying English Literature. She’s now living in a flat with her sister Jo and her boyfriend Stevie, having to share with his daughter Ellie when she’s there for weekends. She’s working as a pot-washer to pay the bills, but longs to go back to university. Despite having very little money, she decides to see a therapist and has a session with Richard. She feels at home in Richard’s room, in the quiet with the smell of books and furniture polish. She feels like he listens and he seems perceptive, noticing her low self-esteem and anxiety. So she takes the decision to continue therapy with him, although he’s expensive. She starts to feel more positive, greatly reducing her bingeing and purging cycle. 

This was a setting I was very familiar with and although Richard has all the right certificates, counselling spiel and does detect Dani’s self-loathing, I kept feeling something wasn’t right. I couldn’t pinpoint anything in detail but I was concerned for Dani. She is so vulnerable. Her attraction to him wasn’t surprising. To have a man listen and understand her might be a first. He also embodies all the things she wants for her own life; qualifications, respect from others, a better standard of living. She has attachment issues so I was sure Richard would have expected some element of transference to creep into the relationship. I was also unsure about Dani’s home life. Her sister’s boyfriend, Stevie, seems like he’s easy going, tv loving, stay at home partner. He’s a good dad to Ellie, but with Dani I wondered if he wasn’t overstepping the mark. He likes things kept neat and tidy, the rent paid on time and Ellie to be safe and happy. There are a couple of occasions when he goes in quite hard on Dani for not being fit for work in the morning or for leaving her room in a state. I wasn’t sure whether this was concern or control? The author cleverly makes the reader unsure and with Dani in such a vulnerable place I was on high alert, like a mum of fledgling baby birds.

The author also keeps us unsure about Dani, not in the sense of believing her narrative, but as to whether she can genuinely break out of the cycle she’s in. As the book begins she’s still bingeing and purging as a means of managing her emotions, in fact this process is like a metaphor for how she manages her whole life. She wants her needs met, to feel emotionally filled or satiated. Then she needs to rid herself of it, to push it away before it gets taken away perhaps? She longs to be loved, but self-sabotages; something that Richard is very aware of and points out. Neither of the sisters have had that feeling of being loved or that they can feel safe within it, sure it won’t be taken away. They have been, at the very least, neglected by both parents. The girls are close, but are not as bonded as sisters can be within a loving family. There are times when Jo acts without realising what effect that behaviour might have on Dani. Thank goodness for Pat from work, who is steadfast in her care of Dani. Even in a complete crisis it is Pat who’s there for her, not her sister who’s busy making her own mistakes. Even when she’s been rebuffed or Dani has lashed out, Pat gives consistent care in a very motherly way and we see that best when Dani is ill. Dani doesn’t know she is beautiful. She knows men are attracted to her red hair and blue eyes, but never knows deep down that she’s worth anything. Besides, it’s always desire rather than love and care. However, she is adamant that she wants more from life. She wants to get better and study again. She knows this will help her get a better future, but she also thinks she’ll gain respect from others. She says that education is the only thing that can’t be taken away from her. I really understood that. 

The attraction to Richard is so complicated, but is bound up in her wanting a better life. There is an initial jolt of chemistry too. It’s something that should be talked about in the room, using the transference to work on Dani’s real needs for affection and worth. There is also counter-transference and both should be easy to recognise by a therapist who has Richard’s level of experience. She loves the way he reinforces her positive behaviours and finds ways forward, but she doesn’t realise she’s doing the work. He’s guiding her, but the achievements are hers. The author places clever little ‘lightbulb’ moments, such as Dani realising the picture she has of Richard in her mind, where he’s sitting in an armchair reading by lamplight, is actually an amalgam of an image she has of her father. It’s also very telling that when she’s sees him in casual rather than professional clothing, she feels let down and that attraction fades. It’s interesting that as boundaries start to break down, the last person she wants to confide in are Pat and Stevie, suggesting that she sees them as parental figures in her life. She knows if she tells them that they’d be angry and she wants to avoid that. She doesn’t like them being angry with her, but also they’d be angry on her behalf and might demand action. I thought it was interesting that she recognises Stevie in a parental role, when talking to her sister. Jo complains that he’s a homebody and they don’t really have fun together any more, but Dani points out that Stevie has always been a homebody. She tells her that this is the type of man she needs, even conceding that when he gets cross she doesn’t mind because at least he cares. 

Of course as counselling boundaries start to be overturned Dani starts to spiral. It’s a really tough part to read, because I was feeling parental towards her. She puts herself in some incredibly dangerous situations, trying to find experiences that fulfil her needs. I was hoping that she’d realise she’d pressed the self-destruct button before it was too late. She has the resources to succeed, but can she utilise them when she feels so unstable? Honestly, my heart ached for this girl and that tells you a lot about my issues with clients! I wished she’d gone to a female counsellor. She needed that female nurturing, a mother’s care and love. When it comes to a need and parents like Dani’s the only answer is to choose our family. There are further behaviours and revelations I won’t go into for fear of ruining the suspense and eventual outcome, but I was genuinely scared that Dani couldn’t pull back from the mess she was in. When someone has listened to your innermost thoughts they are a formidable agent for change and an even more powerful opponent. I had everything crossed that I’d underestimated Dani and that she could find those reserves to get through to the other side. This was a fantastic debut novel, full of suspense and stirring the emotions of the reader with real finesse. 

Out now from Trapeze Books

Posted in Personal Purchase

Eighteen Seconds by Louise Beech

My mother once said to me, ‘I wish you could feel the way I do for eighteen seconds. Just eighteen seconds, so you’d know how awful it is.’

I was reading this raw and painful memoir to discuss at my local book club Pudding and Pages. Sadly, my health wasn’t great that day and I wasn’t able to go. So I decided to tell all of you about it instead, because I love Louise’s writing and I identified very strongly with some of her experiences. This is such a psychologically astute story, from someone who has done a lot of work on their childhood trauma, even while being traumatised anew with the shock that comes on an ordinary morning. Normally, Louise would take her children to school and then have a walk along the path at the side of the River Humber and underneath the bridge itself. Her husband asks if she will take her walk earlier than normal as he has a package being delivered later and needs her to be home. She agrees, completing her walk earlier than usual, and returning home to a call from one of her sisters. Their mother has thrown herself off the Humber Bridge, it’s only by changing her schedule that Louise didn’t witness it. This call hits the reader like a punch to the gut and I’m sure that’s how she must have felt. If you’ve ever had a similar call you’ll know it hard to communicate the force of that moment. Your mind is still at home holding the phone while your body is grabbing the car keys and scrambling to reach A+E as soon as possible. 

Honestly, the siblings are shocked to find their mother alive when they reach the hospital. She landed, not in the water but on the path, causing multiple broken bones, internal bleeding and head injuries. As they navigate those first few hours Louise contrasts them with inserts that are flashbacks to their childhood. Their mum’s first suicide attempt flashes through her mind. The three girls were placed with grandma for several month, but Baby Colin had to be taken into foster care. Although losing their mum was terrifying for Louise’s younger twin sisters it must have been desperately traumatic for Colin who lost his whole family that day. She describes these months with grandma as the safest and most loved she ever felt. Their return to their mother heralded the worst years of their childhood, the abuse ranged from neglect to prioritising her own needs and emotions over that of her children. New relationships always came first, placing them in grave danger as she plunged headfirst into alcoholism. For Louise, as the eldest, it meant being a second mum to the other three while mum partied. In a way Louise became the identified problem of the family – she’s miserable, no fun and constantly moaning according to her mother and her male friends. It was an immense struggle to keep the younger ones happy, especially the girls who worried every time the door closed that their mother would ever come back. The didn’t know she was choosing to be in the pub. Louise’s attempts to get her mother to see what effect her alcoholism was having on the twins were met with either silence or insults, depending on which friend was drinking with her at the time. She just wants her mum to be responsible for her own children. 

This is such a hard read in parts but it isn’t without humour and hope. Once her mum is recovered enough to talk again, her sense of humour is restored and she is remarkably charming when she wants to be. I loved how the siblings handled her, with a patience and humour she barely deserves at times. I loved the sibling’s family WhatsApp group, including their Uncle Edwin who’s in Australia. Their ability to share gallows humour, even in the worst of circumstances reminded me a little of my family. Their discussions about her underwear and accusing Colin of sneaking it away, descends into uproar when he tells them it looks better on him. ‘Well you haven’t seen it on Edwin’, one of his sister’s hits back. My family and I used gallows humour all the time when my husband was dying. From my own experience I recognised the bulldozing that happens in MDT Discharge meetings, where everyone is agreeing to a plan you haven’t said yes to. Once I was told by an NHS Continuing Care nurse that my opinion didn’t really count because I wasn’t a nurse. No consideration to the fact that the care was happening in my house and I was the only full-time carer. In fact I was carrying out medical tasks such as pump feeding, suction and catheterising, so to all intents and purposes I was nursing him. The horror of realising there was nowhere for my husband to die broke me, because he didn’t have cancer so couldn’t go to a hospice. He wanted to come home but I couldn’t do it alone, Louise writes about similar issues in a very matter of fact way, because that’s the only way to be at times like this – blunt and forthright. Then in between the family uses humour to deal with a hurt that can’t heal and can’t change. 

I read this at a difficult time for my family, because my mum and her two sisters are dealing with care for my 90 year old grandmother, who has been a very difficult woman. My mum has felt completely overlooked by her mother, often left out of decisions or not considered when it comes to family memories or possessions. As the only daughter with any memory of her grandma (always referred to as Mother) she had hoped to be given her engagement ring when the time came, with her sisters receiving the wedding and engagement ring of their own mum. She was really upset to find her middle sister had been given Mother’s ring, with the other two going to her youngest sister. It wasn’t the item as much as the memory, not helped by my grandma saying ‘well the others really wanted them and I knew you wouldn’t make a fuss’. This total lack of consideration opened a Pandora’s box of hurt, including a terrible decision made when the family returned from a spell in Australia in the late 1960s. Having to accept housing away from their home city of Liverpool, they settled in Scunthorpe but both of my grandparents needed to work. My mother was twelve and her two sisters were pre-school age, so my grandma didn’t register my mum for school and left her at home caring for the younger children. This lack of education was devastating for my mum who felt like she was sacrificed for the good of her sisters and also felt ashamed that she had few qualifications. It affected her opportunities but also her confidence, leading to life long mental health issues. Despite this my mum shows incredible intelligence, is well-read and has had a lot of psychotherapy. I think that at the age of 72 she is very in touch with her authentic self and knows that she needs to ration the time spent with her mother, place careful boundaries around herself and us and accept a relationship that’s very one sided. I recognised a lot of my mum in Louise’s personal growth and that motherly relationship with her younger siblings. This book made me realise there are families like ours where intergenerational trauma is a very real part of life. I think the book holds out a lot of hope that with boundaries, solid friendships, somewhere to express the negative emotions and a lot of humour it’s possible to survive narcissistic parenting. Lastly, I admire Louise’s honesty and openness in writing this memoir so beautifully and I hope it has proved both cathartic and healing for her too.

Meet the Author

Louise Beech lives in East Yorkshire and grew up dreaming of being a writer but it took many years and many rejections for her to finally get a book deal in 2015, aged 44. Her debut, How to be Brave, got to No4 on Amazon and was a Guardian Readers’ Pick; Maria in the Moon was described as ‘quirky, darkly comic and heartfelt’ by the Sunday Mirror; The Lion Tamer Who Lost was shortlisted for the Popular Romantic Novel of 2019 at the RNA Awards and longlisted for the Polari Prize 2019; Call Me Star Girl was Best magazine’s Book of the Year 2019; I Am Dust was a Crime MagazineMonthly Pick; and This Is How We Are Human was a Clare Mackintosh Book Club pick. In 2023 her new novel, End of Story, will be published under the pen name Louise Swanson. Louise regularly writes short stories for magazines, blogs, and talks at universities and literary events.