Crime Fiction Alphabet: D is for Darkside

A few weeks ago when I noticed that Blacklands, Belinda Bauer’s debut novel, won the 2010 CWA Gold Dagger, I decided that it was time I brought it home from the library. When I looked for it, it was gone, but there was a shiny new copy of her second novel on the new books stand. It came straight home!

The story opens in Shipcott, a small village community set in the wilds of Exmoor. It is the middle of winter and an elderly woman, paralysed after a riding accident, has been murdered in her bed. Nobody saw, nobody heard, anything.

Jonas Holly, the young village policeman, is called to the scene. He had been ambitious for more, but when his wife was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis he realised that he had to put his ambitions to one side.

Of course the murder squad is called in, and the local man is pushed to the sidelines. But as there are more killings, as it becomes clear that the killer is targeting the elderly, the ill, the infirm, Jonas is sure that his local knowledge, his insight, could be the key to solving the case.

The plot starts slowly, giving the characters, the location and the themes space to take root, and then it twists and turns and gains pace wonderfully. There’s some very clever plotting on show.

And what makes the story sing is the people of Shipcott: their relationships, their shared history, their realisation that somebody they know, a friend, a colleague, a neighbour, could be the killer.

The relationship between Jonas and his wife, Lucy , as they both struggle to come to terms with the practical and emotional effects of her deteriorating health, is particularly well drawn. It’s real, it’s heartbreaking, and it cleverly draws out questions about the killer’s motivation, about just who he might be.

I thought I knew, but I couldn’t work out how, and then I changed my mind. More than once before the final answer came.

I’m afraid that the conclusion was a bit of a problem for me.  The atmosphere, psychology and character that had driven the story so well were pushed to the side to make room for a dramatic set piece. It was gripping, but it just didn’t quite ring true, didn’t quite fit.

Just the one wrong note in a very interesting psychological thriller. So I’ll definitely be picking up that first book when it reappears in the library.

*****

The Crime Fiction Alphabet is hosted by Kerrie at Mysteries in Paradise.

“Each week, beginning Monday 10 January 2011, you have to write a blog post about crime fiction related to the letter of the week …”

So next week, E is for … ?

Virago Modern Classics were only the beginning…

… I discovered them young and they took my reading in all kinds of wonderful directions.

I was going to write about those directions at some length tonight to round off Virago Reading Week, but my head is in the wrong place. The week ahead is going to be the most difficult of my professional life, and there may be major decisions and major changes, but a lot hinges on one crucial meeting and I really don’t know what the outcome will be.

So please forgive me if my posting is erratic for while, if I am slow responding to comments and messages, and if I am out and about visiting other blogs less than usual.

I need to rebalance my life.

That Virago post will happen one day when my mind is less cluttered, when I need an escape …

Nightingale Wood by Stella Gibbons

Nightingale Wood is a fairytale says the cover, and yes it is.

The story of Cinderella, set in the 1930s, still recognisable but twisted into something new and something just a little bit subversive.

Viola is a penniless young widow. She is pretty and charming, but sadly her circumstances force her to move to the country to live with her in-laws.

The Withers family is terribly middle class and stifling respectable, and though Mr and Mrs Wither do not consider Viola, a former shopgirl, to be quite of their class they know their duty. Mr Withers is most concerned about Viola’s finances and his wife about her family’s perception and position in local society.

Their unmarried, middle-aged daughters are a little less concerned. Madge wants little more than a dog and to be part of the country set, while Tina is quite besotted by Saxon, the family chauffeur.

The family and its interactions are presented with gentle wit and humour, but the sadness is just below the surface. Sadness at a lack of understanding and at a class system that keeps them all in their places and allows so much potential in the women of the household to be wasted.

A few miles away live the Spring family. Mrs Spring is proud of he successful son Victor, ambitious for him, and delighted that he is virtually engaged to an eminently suitable young woman. Her bookish young niece, Hetty is less impressed.

Viola’s arrival, and her certainty that Victor must be her Prince Charming after she dances with him at a ball, is the spark that changes everything. Lives change, conventions are broken and opportunities are seized.

Stella Gibbons tells a lovely, complex tale with all of the wit and humour you could want, and she balnces that perfectly with real understanding, real emotions, and just a light sprinkling of fairy dust.

This is the third of her novels that I have read, and I really have grown to love the way her authorial voice is always present but never obtrusive, and the wonderful trick she has of seeming to be heading down a traditional, well trodden path, only to head off somewhere different and rather more interesting at the last minute. That really is clever.

This time around her pace seemed a little slow, but it is was worth lingering because there are so many lovely details, dialogues and observations, and some telling points are made about the class system, the lack of opportunity for women and the difference that money makes

But what held everything together was wonderful characterisation, and I continued to be engaged no matter which of the diverse cast was taking centre stage. Such a wonderful variety of people, relationships, and things going on!

I willed Tina on as she took tentative steps to deft convention and make her relationship with Saxon official. I laughed as Madge entertained the huntin’, shootin’, and fishin’ brigade. I worried about Hetty’s future. And I wondered if Victor really was Prince Charming, if he was good enough for Viola.

The ending was in doubt until the very last minute, but when it arrived it was perfect and there was a little sting in the tail.

The perfect ending for a fine entertainment and a lovely piece of social comedy.

A Lot of Green Books and a Small Brown Dog

When Carolyn requested pictures of Viragos, Darlene posted a quite wonderful photograph featuring Deacon, her lovely border collie.

It sent me on a trip down memory lane, to the days I sent greeting in picture form to fellow members of the LibraryThing Virago Modern Classics Group.

Briar and an appropriate green book!

And then I thought, wouldn’t it be lovely to show off a few of Briar’s greatest hits and to feature a few non-blogging Virago lovers. Do go over and meet them - you’ll find lovely people, wonderful libraries, and some great writing about books.

At first Briar wasn’t too keen on her new modelling career and so I had to sneak pictures while she was sleepy …

First up is Angel by Elizabeth Taylor for the lovely aluvalibri. It was Paola who one day had the bright idea of starting a group dedicated to Virago Modern Classics. That it has grown and grown is due in no small part to her warmth, love and enthusiasm. She is a true star in the Virago firmament.

And then there was Deborah by Esther Kreitzman for Cariola. In this case the book chose itself – as I am Jane in other parts of my life Cariola is Deborah.

In time Briar was persuaded to sit up and pose for the camera …

The New House by Lettice Cooper was for miss_read. A VMC that later became a Persephone for the founder of the Persephone group.

Briar and I aren’t sure who we selected The Third Miss Symons by F M Mayor for, but we are going to take this opportunity to say hello to Tiffin, and to her lovely dog Esme. Tiffin came all the way from Canada to Cornwall, but sadly the week she was here we were away on holiday. We hope that maybe she’ll come again and we’ll be sure to be home.

At the pinnacle of her modelling career Briar pose with two green books – Painted Clay by Capel Boake and Lantana Lane by Eleanor Darke for mrspenny. Two Australian authors for the lady who has tracked down copies of EVERY SINGLE VIRAGO MODERN CLASSIC!!!

After that I’m afraid it was downhill all the way. I had to resort to propping books up on a dozy dog …

Another nice pairing of title and recipient – The True Heart by Sylvia Townsend Warner for the former fabrile-heart. She has changed her name since, but we were quite proud of that one.

And then there was The World My Wilderness by Rose Macaulay for rbhardy3rd, one of a number of gentleman in the LibraryThing Virago community.

We chose The Clever Women of the Family by Charlotte M Yonge for christiguc, because she is clever, a technical wizard, and she has the finest array of badges I have ever seen for helping the LibraryThing community.

And last but very definitely not least …

The Sleeping Beauty by Elizabeth Taylor for the lovely bleuroses. After Cate’s dachshund Orph posed with the same book in a Dial Press edition Briar just had to reciprocate. I must also mention, just in case you haven’t found it, that Cate maintains a lovely thread dedicated to Virago Remembrances. It’s essential reading.

These days Briar has  retired from modelling. Well she’s very busy, guarding neighbourhood, exercising her humans and managing the household. But I think maybe I might be able to  persuade her to make a comeback …

My Favourite Virago Heroine

A question to ponder for Virago Reading Week …

I have met so many remarkable women in the pages of Virago Modern Classics that it is very hard to pick just one. But I did.

Winifred Holtby’s South Riding seems to be the book of the moment. It’s just been reissued, the lovely Virago Modern Classics group on LibraryThing is reading it right now, and a new BBC adaptation is due to air very, very soon.

Now I know I’ve written about South Riding more than once before, but trust me, it really is that good.

And one of the wonderful women that I met between its pages has to be my favourite Virago heroine.

I wrote about her for Aarti‘s inspiring series Rosie’s Riveters … 

Rosie’s Riveters is a weekly posting written by Booklust readers about
riveting females in literature. Many readers have strong reactions to
the women in the books they read- either very positive or very
negative. These are the characters we find riveting, for good reasons
or bad ones, and they form the population of Rosie’s Riveters. Through
this weekly post, we can discuss females we love to hate, or love to
love. And maybe, just maybe – we can determine why we react so strongly
to them.

The concept and the questions just felt right for Virago Reading week and so, as I’ve not run this particular post on my own blog before, here is what I wrote. It still holds true.

Who is your Riveter?

Sarah Burton

What book does she feature in?

Sarah features in Winifred Holtby’s final novel, South Riding.

South Riding was published posthumously in 1936, and widely acclaimed as Winifred Holtby’s masterpiece.

Do you love her or hate her?

I very definitely love her.

Describe her personality – how would you describe her to a friend?

Sarah’s a striking figure. A small woman with a fine head of red hair. She has the quick temper to go with that hair, and she has strong opinions, but she really is a lovely person and a very good friend.

She comes from Yorkshire – the South Riding. Her mother was her nurse and a father a blacksmith, but he drank and so Sarah had to make her own way in life. And make her own way she did! She became a teacher. She’s taught in tough schools in London and in South Africa, but now she’s come home and got a job as a headmistress here in the South Riding. She’s a wonderful teacher and would do anything for her girls.

Her problem though is men. A classic case of loving not wisely but too well.

Can you compare her to a celebrity?

None that I can think of.

What makes her riveting?

Sarah is a determined woman with a true vocation. She’s a truly dedicated teacher, and she really believes that she can improve her girls’ futures through education. Her job as headmistress isn’t without its problems though.

Emma Beddows is the first woman alderman in the district and a governor of the school. She appreciates Sarah’s qualities as a teacher, but she has rather different views on a lot of things – and she’s just as stubborn as Sarah.

Robert Carne is a county councilor and a struggling gentleman farmer. His wife is in an asylum and he worries that their daughter Midge will inherit her mental illness. He’s very protective of his daughter and believes that Sarah is pushing her too hard.

Lydia Holly loves learning and Sarah believes she has more potential than any other child she has taught but, when her mother dies after one pregnancy too many, her father pulls her out of school to look after her younger siblings. Sarah is not happy!

And, of course, she ruffles the feathers of some of the school staff who are rather set in their ways.

What do you most admire/despise about her?

You can’t help but admire Sarah’s spirit and vitality. And her vocation and her willingness to work so hard for her girls really is inspiring.

There’s nothing to despise. She can be stubborn and she doesn’t always appreciate other people’s different points of view, but she does have the best of intentions.

Would you recommend reading the book in which the Riveter features?

Yes! Winifred Holtby is a wonderful author, and this is marvellous tale.

Do you have a quote by or about your Riveter that you’d like to share?

“Sarah believed in action. She believed in fighting. She had unlimited confidence in the power of the human intelligence and will to achieve order, happiness, health and wisdom. It was her business to equip the young women entrusted to her by a still inadequately enlightened State for their part in that achievement. She wished to prepare their minds, to train their bodies and to innoulate their spirits with some of her own courage, optimism and unstaled delight.”

If you haven’t already read South Riding, please do! It’s a genuine classic, a wonderful piece of storytelling, and it’s themes have as much to say today as they ever did.

And please tell me – who is your favourite Virago heroine?

Time After Time by Molly Keane

In Time After Time Molly Keane extends an invitation to an Irish country house. It’s an invitation that I am very glad that I accepted.

The house was once beautiful, but it has fallen upon hard times. The kitchen still offers a welcome, but the cooks and kitchen maids who brought it to life have long since departed, and even the Aga is losing the will to go on.

The kitchen is Jasper’s domain. Well actually the whole house and estate is his, but he has to share it with his three elderly sisters. One widow and two spinsters, all left a right of residence by darling Mummie, whose wishes none of her children would ever question.

He’s an aesthete and a dreamer, and he’s also bright enough to know that whoever rules the kitchen rules the house. Well they would if they didn’t have to contend with his sisters.

April, the only one to have married, is now widowed, and in her mind that places her way above her siblings. But her husband is long gone and now her life centres around her clothes, her beauty treatments, and her home comforts…

May’s life is filled with domestic arts. She is president of the Flower Arrangers’ Guild for year, she is a dab hand at making pictures from scraps of tweed, wool and sprigs of heather…

And Baby June is the practical one, managing the farm, always outside, always with something important to do…

Each of the Swifts has a cross to bear: Jasper lost an eye, April is stone deaf, May has a deformed hand, and Baby June, well Baby June is rather slow… And each of them tries to fill their lives with the important things they do, with possession, with the cats and dogs who are so cosseted in the absence of children. They live together, bickering like children because they are unhappy with their lives.

The portraits that Molly Keane paints of the Swift siblings as they move through their lives are so rich, so vivid and so wonderfully detailed.

Grotesques. Realism. Comedy. Tragedy. Only Molly Keane can balance all of those elements to such fine effect.

I laughed, I cried, and I wanted to scream at them to admit that they were unhappy, that there lives didn’t have to be ruled by what their mother had thought in a different age, that they could change their lives. But I knew that they wouldn’t have listened, and that even if they had they wouldn’t have believed me.

The pictures change when cousin Leda comes to visit. As a child she was that little bit different, and the Swifts didn’t know quite how to react. To pay court or to close ranks. And it is just the same now that Leda is a widow and has lost her sight. How like children they all are.

Leda says things, does things, crosses lines that the Swifts never would. And of course there are consequences. When finally she leaves they realise that life will never be the same again.

It’s still comic, it’s still tragic, it’s still grotesque, and it’s still real.

Now that I have left too I miss the whole household. As is so often the case with Molly Keane’s creations, I really wouldn’t want to meet them but they are quite wonderful to observe.

A wonderful entertainment!

Crime Fiction Alphabet: C is for Crombie

I didn’t know Deborah Crombie’s name when I spotted her first book in the library and I really can’t remember why I was drawn to it. But I’m glad I was – I liked that book, I liked the ones that followed, and now I have read a round dozen.

Where Memories Lie opens with Superintendent Duncan Kincaid and Detective Inspector Gemma James at home with their sons from former relationships, thirteen-year-old Kit and five-year-old Toby. Their relationship has evolved well over twelve books, always believable and always interesting, without ever falling into the trap for many long running series of having too much happen to the same characters.

Duncan and Gemma used to work together, but as their relationship grew their professional lives separated: now he works at Scotland Yard and Gemma in Notting Hill.

The telephone rings in the middle of a dinner party. Gemma’s friend, Erika asks her to come over to discuss an important matter. Gemma doesn’t hesitate because she knows that her friend is would only ask if it was something really important.

It is. Erika has spotted a diamond brooch, a unique piece of jewellery made by Erika’s father, a master jeweller, and given to his daughter before she and her husband fled Germany at the start of the war, in the catalogue of a prestigious London auction house. Erika will not say how she came to lose the brooch, but she asks Gemma to visit the auction house, to find out what she can.

Gemma agrees, but when she visits the auction house she is rebuffed.

But there is soon an official investigation at the auction house, as a young woman Gemma spoke to there is murdered. Scotland Yard is called in and Duncan requests the case.

A complex and well structures plot unfolds as links are made between Erika’s brooch, the murdered girl, a wealthy young man who has fallen into bad company, his haughty and disapproving mother, and an actor with a declining career who is not ready to let go of the high life.

The characters and their worlds are well constructed, and the mystery is intriguing.

Gemma also has to cope with her mother, a strong, independent and practical woman, being taken seriously ill and her father’s resentment of her success, which he sees as having taken her away from her roots, coming to the surface.

Again, characters and complex relationships are wonderfully portrayed, but oh how I wished this side of the story could have been given a little more time.

And there is another story, set in the past. The story of a police inspector who, in 1952, investigated the seemingly senseless murder of Erika’s husband in a London park.

The stories are well balanced, each strand compelling and emotionally true,  and though I couldn’t see how they would come together, when they did it made perfect sense.

Events came to a head in a dramatic – maybe over-dramatic – finale.  I had to question the murderer’s motivation to actually kill, but I couldn’t fault the logic or the plotting at all.

So not quite the perfect mystery, but still a fine piece of crime writing.

Overall the story was very well executed, and it had far more depth than most mysteries, skillfully showing how events long past can influence the present and showing just how much harm, greed, ambition, and pride can do.

Where Memories Lie works as a classic mystery,  it works as a story lives altered by a terrible chapter in history, and it works as a story of contemporary London.

I shall definitely seeking out book thirteen in the series, and hoping that there are many more installments to come.

*****

The Crime Fiction Alphabet is hosted by Kerrie at Mysteries in Paradise.

“Each week, beginning Monday 10 January 2011, you have to write a blog post about crime fiction related to the letter of the week …”

So next week, D is for … ?

Ups and Downs on a Bookish Jaunt

After a difficult couple of weeks at work my fiance recognised that I needed a spot of bibliotherapy. And so yesterday morning he suggested a trip to Redruth, home of Cornwall’s largest secondhand bookshop which has proved to be a very happy hunting ground for me in the past.

I readily agreed, and off we went.

But when we arrived the shop was shut. We were in normal opening hours, there were no notices except the one that shows opening hours, and yet there was no sign of life.  peering through the window, we could see that inside some books were still on shelves but others had been boxed up.

I’ve sent an email, and I’m keeping my fingers crossed. We have already lost one shop in my home town, one in Helston, and two in Falmouth over the last few years. I’m doing my best to keep Cornwall’s secondhand bookshops in business, but I can’t do it alone!

We were disappointed, but we pressed on, seeking out lost gems in the market and the charity shops. We found lots of books, but nothing that either of us wanted.

But eventually I struck gold, in what I can only describe and a dark and dusty emporium, selling all kinds of everything.

On the right hand wall were bookshelves, full of tatty, aged books. And among them I found some gems.

Anne Morrison by Richmal Crompton

“Although unconsciously his character had its effect on hers, consciously he made no effort to mould her. She was the joy, comfort and relaxation of his life. He took her as she was – perfection.”

I have heard much praise for Richmal Crompton’s novels for adults. Sadly though, with the honourable exception of Family Roundabout, which has been reissued by Persephone Books, they seem to be as rare as hens’ teeth. So when I saw this little volume from the 1920s I pounced, even though I know nothing about it.

Unfinished Portrait by Mary Westmacott

“It was many years later that Celia realised exactly what her mother’s feelings were at the time. She had had a dull girlhood herself – she was passionately eager that her darling should have all the gaieties and excitements that a young girl’s life could hold.”

After I read Laura Thompson’s autobiography of Agatha Christie a couple of years ago I was very curious to read the romantic novels that Mrs Christie published under the name Mary Westmacott. They were out of print, the library couldn’t help, and so is I let it go – but when I found a 1960s paperback for a mere 85p I had to pick it up.

A Village in Italy by Beverley Nichols

“”Ooh, ye ice and snow, bless ye the Lord!” cries the vicar, with such boyish exultation that one feels he would like to run out and  make a snowball, here and now, and throw it up with a shout of glee, to the grey sky … up and up till a white hand fluttered out, far above, and caught it, and turned it into a star.”

The lettering on the spine had nearly disappeared, but there was just enough left for me to spot that this was a book by Beverley Nichols that wasn’t in my collection. And when I opened it I found beautiful illustrations by Rex Whistler that would have been worth the asking price even without the writing of a beloved author.

Three wonderful books and a spot of lunch saved the day!

We returned to the car park in good spirits, and in good time to be home for low tide and take Briar down to the beach.

And then the car wouldn’t start. Fortunately we had plenty of reading material while we waited for the man from the RAC. He saved the day, Briar had her walk before the tide came in too far, and then I retired to the sofa to contemplate my books.

Not quite the day we had planned, but a lovely day nonetheless.

Bibliotherapy works!

Books for a Desert Island

“Desert Island Discs is on the radio. I think there should be a Desert Island Books where the guest tells us which books he/she would take … “

As soon as I read those words in Ann Kelly’s The Bower Bird I began to wonder what books I would take.

It wasn’t easy. Some beloved authors - including Thomas Hardy, Margery Sharp, George Eliot, Sarah Waters, Wilkie Collins - had to be dismissed because I couldn’t pick just one book from many wonderful works, and because I knew that whichever one I took I would regret leaving another behind.

There had to be a good range of books. I could easily have picked eight Victorian novels, but I had to allow for different days, different moods needing different books.

And I wanted books that could give me everything – beautiful prose, engaging characters, wonderful stories, thought-provoking ideas ….

Books to engage all of my emotions, and books to make me think and ask questions.

Books with so much to offer that I could happily read them over and over again.

And now, finally, I think I have my list:

South Riding by Winifred Holtby

The perfect picture of a community and the people who make it. Such wonderful characters, such wonderful ideas and emotions, and a green Virago Modern Classic to remind me of so many others.

Skallagrig by William Horwood

If I could take just one book, this would be the one. A book that speaks to me personally and says all that needs to be said about what makes us human.

The Tenant of Wildfell Hall by Anne Brontë

My favourite Brontë sister, and a wonderful Victorian novel that I know I could read over and over again.

Oscar and Lucinda by Peter Carey

It’s a long time since I read this one, but I still remember it so well. I can’t quite explain what makes it so special, I just know that it is, and that I want to take it with me to read again.

Love in the Sun by Leo Walmsley

I did wonder whether I should take a Cornish book. Would reading of Cornwall allow me to travel home in my head or would it just make me homesick? I don’t know the answer, but I do know that Love in the Sun is just too lovely to leave behind.

The Gormenghast Books by Mervyn Peake

When I want to escape sun and sand, this is the book that will take me into a completely different world. To wander down dark castle corridors and watch extraordinary stories unfolding …

Tea With Mr Rochester by Frances Towers

Perfect short stories take me back to an England that has long since gone, but that I have visited so many times in books. And a Persephone book so I have the bookmark, the endpapers, the sheer beauty of the book as an object to enjoy.

The Sunne in Splendour by Sharon Penman

I would definitely want a big historical novel, and this is definitely the right one to take. The first one I read, the book that made me realise that history can be questioned, and a book so rich in detail that I could lose myself for days and days ….

Yes, I think that those eight books and I could live happily together for a long, long time.

And now please tell me, how would you pick your desert island books? Which ones would you take?

The Bower Bird by Ann Kelley

Late last year  I read The Burying Beetle, and I fell in love with twelve year-old Gussie. I am so glad that it was the first of the series because I really wasn’t ready to let Gussie go.

Gussie is so alive, but unlike most twelve year-olds, she has had to consider her own mortality.

“Death: I know, or I think I know that death will only be nothingness, but I don’t want oblivion yet.  I want to smell honeysuckle in the dark, I want to hear my cat greet me with her special purring.  I want to smell old books.”

Gussie has a serious heart condition and her life expectancy isn’t great. A heart and lung transplant would give her a little more time and maybe  a little more freedom, if only a match could be found.

The Bower Bird picks up the threads of Gussie’s life just a few weeks after The Burying Beetle ended, and moves things gently forward.

She and her mother have moved to a new home in St Ives. Gussie is trying to find out more about her father’s family connections in the town, while observing her mother’s new relationship and still pondering her parent’s failed relationship. She has her own relationship to ponder too, with her closest friend who now has a girlfriend to consider too.

Those are the broad strokes, but the joy of this book is in the detail.  Gussie is  intrigued by the world around her, interested in everything and everyone.

The Bower Book is a wonderful celebration of life, seen through the eyes of a child who understands just how precious those things are.

A child who loves books – from Winnie the Pooh to Katharine Mansfield – and loves the library.

“Desert Island Discs is on the radio. I think there should be a Desert Island Books where the guest tells us which books he/she would take.

I have started by list of favourite books for when I am famous and invited on the programme.

Jennie, by Paul Gallico
The House at Pooh Corner by A A Milne
The Collected Short Stories of Katherine Mansfield
White Fang by Jack London
Middlemarch by George Eliot
Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen
Catcher in the Rye by J D Salinger
Fabre’s Book of Insects
Lord of the Flies by William Golding

That’s nine and I’ll only be allowed to take eight, so I’ll have to think about which one I could live without…”

(What a great list - though  I’m not sure that I could have appreciated Middlemarch at twelve  - I’m thinking about my desert island books now.)

A child who loves nature and the world around her. Some people might just see seagulls, but Gussie sees their characters and watches their lives unfold. A mother watching her child as it finds its feet and learns to fly, squawking horribly if her child is threatening. And a child finding its place in the world.

“Our adolescent gull is still wheezing and jumping up and down on the roof flapping his speckled wings. He wanders all over the roof, spends most of the time on his own, though one parent perches on the chimney pot watching over him while the other parent is fishing for his supper, or is out having a good time. I feel like that young gull: songless and ugly, unable to fly; totally dependent on my parent.”

(There are many moments like that. Wonderful observations beautifully expressed mixed with very real emotions.)

A child who is pleased to meet people, eager to ask questions, observant, and thoughtful.

And she catches Cornwall perfectly.

“Mornings in mid September smell fresher than August, and there’s lots of swirling white mist over the water, hiding the dunes and the estuary. But the air is still and somehow you know that it’s going to be sunny later. The heavy band of mist is chrome and silver; the clouds are the colour of lavender leaves and steamed up mirrors. The sea is hammered pewter and the low waves are mercury creeping up the beach. Where the sun breaks through, it explodes on the water in a firework burst of sparkling stars. On the other side of the bay, battleship clouds float above the dunes and hills of Gwithian and Godrevy. September is like a wonderful monochrome photograph or the opening credits of an obscure French movie. Like the ones Daddy used to take me too.”

So many details, all perfectly caught, with every observation, every emotion pitch perfect, to build a picture of a lovely, complex child and her world.

A child so determined to live, but so often not being able to go as quickly as she wanted, having to pause for breath, having to be careful. How I felt for her.

In the end it seemed that the match Gussie and her mother had hoped for had finally been found. I so hope that it has, and I shall be breaking all of my own rules about spreading out great series and bringing the next book home as soon as I possibly can.