Author Archives: Jane Cable

JANE CABLE REVIEWS TWO FABULOUS MODERN CLASSICS

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The Lido by Libby Page

I had just one question when I finished The Lido – why on earth hadn’t I read it before? Telling the story of 86 year old Rosemary and 26 year old Kate’s campaign to save their local lido it is a novel that will stay with me for a very long time, and days after finishing it I still have the most terrible book hangover.

As an author, I am asking myself why, trying to analyse and unpick it. But the fact is, it comes down to the characters; real, flawed and completely beguiling. I genuinely felt as though I knew them personally, and that is a rare writing gift indeed.

Truth be told, I didn’t instantly gel with the book. I wasn’t sure about the way it was written (third person present tense) but as the story unfolded I very quickly ceased to notice. I was pulled into the vividly and quirkily portrayed Brixton world, and if I was tugged out of the narrative at all it was to appreciate how clever the descriptions were, and how they helped to move the story along.

The Lido is fundamentally a story of a friendship between two very different women. Kate, a journalist, young, lost and struggling to find her feet in a new city, and Rosemary who initially comes over as the strongest of people, but of course there are chinks in her armour too. Their relationship is forged by their desire to save the local lido that means so much to both of them but it also looks back to Rosemary’s own love story with her late husband George, and maybe even forwards to a romance for Kate too.

Surrounded by a brilliant cast of supporting characters – including an urban fox – Rosemary and Kate pull together in what seems to be a hopeless battle against the developers. And at the end of the day, this is one of those wonderful books where the journey is more important than the outcome. But of course, to say what the outcome is would be cheating. Dive into The Lido and read it yourself.

 

A Terrible Kindness by Jo Browning Wroe

What a stunning book. Although it was only published this week it is destined to become a modern classic too. What drew me to is initially was because it starts at Aberfan, and which cast a long shadow for any child growing up in South Wales in the 1960s and 70s, and because it wasn’t screaming any particular genre at me. It intrigued me and I wanted to dive in.

William Lavery is a newly qualified embalmer who volunteers his skills to help in the immediate aftermath of Aberfan. It is a part of disaster recovery we rarely consider and the flavour of the book is quickly revealed as it focuses just a little on the mechanics and a great deal on the emotions. You learn just enough of the nuts and bolts to be drawn into William’s world but perhaps it isn’t for the over-squeamish.

William’s is not a world shaped only by the terrible nightmares and flashbacks born from his experiences working on those children’s bodies and we soon learn his past holds its own mysteries and traumas. Piece by piece they are cleverly revealed, building William into one of the most fascinating fictional characters I have come across in recent years, always on a knife edge between genuine happiness and self-destruction.

It is a remarkable debut, full of clever intricacies and memorable characters, but never so over worked that William’s story is not centre stage. I hesitate to use the phrase ‘must read’, but I think losing yourself in this book would be time well spent.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

SUNDAY SCENE: CLARE SWATMAN ON HER FAVOURITE SCENE FROM BEFORE WE GROW OLD

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It’s so hard to pick a favourite scene from any book, so for this, I’m plumping for the very first scene in my latest book, Before We Grow Old – partly because I like it and partly so I don’t give anything else away! In this opening scene, Fran and Will bump into each other by chance in a busy London cafe – and the last time they’d seen each other had been 25 years before, when they’d been teenagers in love. Here’s the moment they meet:

The next few seconds were a scramble of wiping the table and floor, and apologising and stammering. Which is why it took me so long to actually look at the man who’d accidentally bumped into me in this busy café. I noticed his mop of expensively cut blonde hair first, peppered with streaks of grey and tousled into subtle spikes. Then I noticed his smile: the friendly mouth and glistening white teeth, followed by his sparkling blue eyes, which lit up as he looked at me.
‘Oh…’ I stammered, and almost fell into my seat, my mouth open like a goldfish.
‘Fran?’
‘Will.’ I stared at him for a moment too long.  ‘I – do you want to sit down? I think it’s dry now.’ I looked at him again and indicated the seat opposite me as my stomach rolled over. ‘If you have time, of course.’

I enjoyed imagining what it might feel like to suddenly be confronted by someone who you’d not only loved so deeply, so obsessively, but who had hurt you so badly when they’d upped and left that it had affected you for the rest of your life. It’s not necessarily something that you would think about every day, but the way something like that makes you feel definitely has an impact on the way you see things, and the way you react to people. There’s always a before and an after to any kind of heart-breaking moment, and I really wanted to get it right.

I enjoyed imagining how awkward Will and Fran might both have felt after Will bumped into her, and left hot chocolate dripping all over the floor; the realisation that they knew each other, that they’d loved each other once. I wanted to capture how Fran might have felt such a conflicting range of emotions, from excitement to shock to anger to embarrassment, all within the space of just a few seconds. And although I wanted them both to feel awkward at first, I also wanted to let them have a conversation, to talk to each other – and they do just that, even if they end up skirting round what they really want to say. Here’s where I think it sums it up best:

I blew across the top of my hot chocolate, watching as the cool air skimmed across the foamy surface. Okay, so he’d decided not to talk about the past. That was fine with me. More than fine, in fact. That was good. It was too early to be raking over old ground. Besides, what would be the point?

And yet my hands still gripped my mug so tightly that my knuckles turned white, as the words I wanted to ask him hung in the air between us, unsaid.

I hope this makes it clear that there are lots of things that are unsaid between them – and that this is the launchpad for the rest of the story!

 

www.clareswatmanauthor.com

 

 

SUNDAY SCENE: JENNIFER BOHNET ON HER FAVOURITE SCENE FROM VILLA OF SECOND CHANCES

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Everyone deserves a second chance, don’t they? But sometimes other people and life itself gets in the way of that happening.

The scene I am about to share with you is from ‘Villa of Second Chances’. In this book several of the characters find themselves at a crossroads where their lives can only move forward when they fully embrace their past. But those long ago secrets and mistakes all conspire to throw complicated shadows from the past into the present.

Freya and Marcus are re-marrying after realising their divorce a few years ago, was a mistake. In this scene, Freya is remembering their first wedding as she drives to have lunch with her mother Effie, in Antibes.

. . . The chosen day had been bathed in blue skies and April sunshine. Her dad had been alive then and had proudly walked her down the aisle of St. Petrox Church – the ancient church out on the Dartmouth headland. Clemmie and Angela had been her bridesmaids, and Marcus’s boyhood friend, Rufus, had been his best man. Marcus’s fellow officers had formed the traditional archway of swords for the two of them as she and her new husband took their first steps together as man and wife. The reception at the now defunct and much-missed iconic Gunfield Hotel on the banks of the Dart had been a wonderful, relaxed affair. . .

Gunfield Hotel (Jim Cozens Photographer)

The Gunfield Hotel on the banks of the River Dart did actually exist years ago and was, let’s say bohemian, in its dealings with guests. If you wanted formal perfection, you went to another hotel. The Gunfield Hotel was a fun place that did its own thing and plays an important part in my story as it unfolds.

Over lunch Effie turns to Freya and ask the question . . . 

‘So, what’s happening with Verity?’

Freya stiffened. ‘I’ve sent her the invite, as you wanted me to, but haven’t heard anything. To be honest, I’m hoping that it’s too short notice for her to come. She’s probably spending the summer on some Greek island or the latest “in” place she’s discovered.’

‘She’s family,’ Effie said. ‘Hyacinth would be turning in her grave if she knew her daughter was persona non grata at your wedding.’

Freya sighed. ‘She’s not exactly persona non grata, but even you have to admit Verity can be difficult. . .

. . . ’If she does accept, she’ll expect to stay with you and the others at the Villa Sésame. Is there room?’

Freya hesitated before shaking her head. She knew Effie would be cross when she told her the truth, that she was deliberately not mentioning the villa arrangement to Verity because there was no way she wanted her cousin spoiling the run-up to the wedding for the others. . .

. . .  ‘Clemmie is definitely coming?’ Effie asked as she picked up her cutlery.

‘Yes, and Angela.’ Freya had her fingers firmly crossed as she answered. No way did she want Clemmie backing out because of Verity’s presence, if indeed, her cousin decided to show up.

‘I’m really looking forward to having time to catch up with them properly – especially Angela, after all she’s been through with the accident and Paul’s death. Clemmie says the last time she saw her she was still a shadow of her former self. Only to be expected, I suppose, and it will take time. I’m hoping the invitation to Villa Sésame has given her something to look forward to.’ . . .

 

Find out more about Jennifer on her Facebook page:  https://bit.ly/3qglPh4

 

 

 

 

SUNDAY SCENE: VIVIEN BROWN ON HER FAVOURITE SCENE FROM FIVE UNFORGIVABLE THINGS

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When I started to write my second novel, Five Unforgivable Things, I wanted to follow all the ups and downs of a family, from its beginnings when Kate and Dan first meet in the seventies right up to the present day, exploring the pivotal decisions and mistakes the couple make along the way and what impact they have on their children as they grow up.

Each of the now adult offspring is introduced in a way that reveals something important about their lives, and the ‘introduction’ scene I most enjoyed writing is the one featuring Natalie, the first of the siblings to appear on the page.

Natalie is entering a wedding dress shop alone. In the window she has spotted what could be the perfect dress for her Christmas wedding to childhood sweetheart Phil but, with no family or friends with her, how will she know if it’s the right one, with no-one ‘to oooh and aaah and spin her around in all directions and take sneaky photos on their phones?’

I well remember accompanying my own daughter to a bridal shop a few years ago, with her sister, the prospective chief bridesmaid, also in tow. That sea of long white dresses billowing on a seemingly never-ending rail right across one side of the room, and all the sparkling tiaras, floaty veils, beaded bags and very posh shoes – unforgettable! In the novel I describe the shop Natalie enters as ‘an oasis of beauty and calm. There was a deep cream carpet and floor-to-ceiling mirrors without so much as a smudge on their shiny gilt-edged glass. The sweet scent of jasmine drifted in the air…’

But it can be a bit daunting when the assistant hands out glasses of fizz and starts measuring and fussing. Ivory or white? Lace or satin? Shape? Style? How long a train? For Natalie, not only is she making these choices alone but the choices themselves are a lot more restricted. There are hints that something is different here as Natalie enters and a look of surprise flits across the shop assistant’s face before being ‘swallowed up in what was clearly a well-practised customer-friendly smile.’ It’s a look Natalie is used to, one ‘that told her she was not quite who, or what, had been expected to come rolling in.’

‘Sorry about the carpet,’ says Natalie, as her wheels leave a trail of dirt and leaves behind them. And so we learn that Natalie is in a wheelchair, and that the beautiful traditional dresses that sweep the floor as they flow along behind a walking bride will never be quite right for ‘someone like her’.

This is a very short scene but it gives the reader a peep into Natalie’s mindset as she ponders her sisters’ absence, realises that the last thing she really wants on her big day is to be the centre of attention, and that the dream dress in the window is never going to work for her.

Yet, I did not want the reader to pity her. Natalie is in many ways the happiest of the siblings, and the only one to have found true love with a man who adores her just as she is. Still, how she came to be disabled will form an important element as the story unravels, and is at the heart of the mistakes and tragedies that have rocked Kate and Dan’s marriage and family life and are so hard to forgive.

 

https://twitter.com/VivBrownAuthor

 

 

 

 

 

SUNDAY SCENE: MELANIE HEWITT ON HER FAVOURITE SCENE FROM LOOKING FOR THE DURRELLS

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In May 2019 as I sat in the Panorama restaurant in St George South on a typically idyllic, light and heat infused afternoon in Corfu, I suddenly thought – If the Durrell family were here now, rather than in the 1930’s, what would they be doing, how would they live?

The character of Penny came into my mind. She was the stone dropped into the pond that created the ripple in the lives of those she would meet.

I have no idea if other writers work in the same way, but as soon as the seed of an idea was there, certain scenes immediately began to play like a film reel in my head. I had visions of Penny and Dimitris on a boat sailing to Corfu, the tour reps welcome meeting and Penny’s first experience of Corfu Town.

A scene by the harbour, with Penny – who’s a book illustrator – painting, with Tess’s young son Theo, though is one that I’d like to look more closely at.

The small harbour for me is the real heart of St George and can be seen from the “Athena” restaurant, the hub of life, love and action in the book. Penny and Theo have both lost their fathers.

Having lost my own dad when he was only in his 60’s and subsequently worked for a time in a hospice, there were issues and experiences around grief and grieving I wanted to explore.

Whilst grieving can follow familiar and similar phases and timelines, it’s an individual and sometimes solitary experience. Reading about or sharing, experiencing what others are going through can help the healing. As Penny experiences here.

“A wave of compassion and tenderness towards him almost overwhelmed Penny as she watched. To lose a father at just four years old was beyond her comprehension. All the years of paternal love she had received felt more miraculous than ever. Gratitude blocked out her grief as its healing warmth embraced her.”

Theo also shares with her that sometimes he can’t remember his father’s face when he thinks of him and this worries him.

Tess, Theo’s mother is moving through her grief for lost husband Georgios and I wanted to weave together the experiences of them all – the universality of loss. Whether a friend, parent or partner. Often loss is a taboo – I’ve known people avoid those who’ve had a recent bereavement rather than have to chat, or because they’re worried they’ll say the wrong thing.

As Penny and Theo paint, the activity draws people to them. Although in a new place, travelling alone Penny is in her element when she paints and this connection with something familiar and comforting, relaxes her.

She connects with the sea, the heat, the feel of her bare feet on the stone harbour pathway and the cool when she dangles her feet in the sea.

The subtext here is the way life carries on – sensations, the daily course of the sun, new friendships and the desire to embrace all these things – coupled with the fear of letting the grief go, because it feels as though that’s all you have left of a loved one.

St George South harbour is also the place where I always go to in my mind when I need to find peace, sanctuary.

Even more reason then, in these times, to share grief and talk about it more – whether through the pages of a book or with a friend or colleague. As someone once said ”we read to know we are not alone.

 

https://www.thebookseller.com/news/harper-inspire-publish-hewitts-looking-durrells-1259141

 

 

 

CARIADS’ CHOICE: DECEMBER BOOK REVIEWS

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Caroline James’ Coffee Tea the Gypsy and Me, reviewed by Jane Cable

From heartbreak to hilarity Caroline James’ debut novel shows just what a great writer she’d become. The characters, village and hotel are fabulously drawn and I really enjoyed it.

When Jo’s husband runs off with the au pair it takes her a while to haul herself back on her feet, but when she does, boy does she do it with 1980’s style! Her outer transformation happens first, with the inner Jo following as she renovates and opens a boutique hotel, dodges the local slime-balls and despite adversity and genuine heartbreak makes a go of it.

It’s an amusing retro romp I really enjoyed.

 

Clare Huston’s Art and Soul, reviewed by Jessie Cahalin

Wonderful story to chase away the winter blues.

This novel wrapped itself around me like a cosy blanket and took me to Becky and Charlie’s world. Becky, a life coach, is employed to fix the life of an artist called Charlie. Becky is kind and witty, and Charlie is the perfect brooding hero. This is a great premise for a dream narrative that tempted me into the characters’ lives. I loved Ronnie and the gorgeous cakes at Sweet’s. The friendship between Ronnie and Becky is so real and both characters are entertaining. But Becky’s observations about the characters are astute and made me giggle throughout. At one point she talks about someone’s ‘pompous glee so perfect it nearly melted her forehead’. Who wouldn’t want a friend like Becky? She is feisty, fun and can fix things. And you need to meet Charlie to discover his charm. An interesting observation on the dynamics of the modern family.

An entertaining romance!

 

Lauren Groff’s Matrix, reviewed by Kitty Wilson

A beautifully written story chronicling the imagined life of Marie de France who was banished to an impoverished abbey as a teenager. We follow Marie as she grows into a confident and authoritative woman who transforms the fortune of the abbey and the lives of the women she lives with. A powerful novel that examines gender expectations and roles in twelfth century Europe with all the dangers and pitfalls that accompanied life at the time. This novel is masterful, evocative and immersive, a powerful story of being female in the late Middle Ages. Highly recommended and I am excited to reread it.

 

Janice Preston’s The Penniless Debutante, reviewed by Morton Gray

Aurelia Croome is almost destitute when she inherits a fortune, but there are strings attached to her inheritance, because the terms of the will forbid her from marrying the new Lord Tregowan. This doesn’t seem to be a problem on the face of it, but when she begins to socialise in London, the man she’s attracted to is no other than Maximilian Penrose—the new Lord Tregowan!

I devoured this book from the first page. I loved the fact that I had already read the stories of Aurelia’s half-sisters in the previous two books in the Lady Tregowan’s Will series – The Rags-To-Riches Governess and The Cinderella Heiress.

I devoured this book from the first page. Perfect escapism from a troubled world, I kept sneaking off to read more and I really think I should be kept on a constant diet of Janice Preston books, apart from the fact that I would get nothing done. Trademark Preston oh la la sensual scene and a great story. More please.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

WELSH WRITING WEDNESDAYS: CHRIS LLOYD ON WALES AS A STATE OF MIND

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Wales has an extraordinary breadth of landscapes and moods. From cities to hamlets, from rural idylls to the legacy of the mines. A beautiful country pockmarked by elements of its past that has learnt to make a virtue out of the ravages it’s experienced. It’s a landscape and a history that invite legend and myth to flourish, a haven for stories and storytellers.

So, if that’s the case, why do I set all my books outside Wales?

In many ways, Wales is a state of mind. A way of viewing the world – both our own and others – that is born of being a small nation. How I view the world, the places I’ve lived, the countries I’ve visited, is determined not just by where I happen to be, but where I happen to be from.

When I was twenty, I went to Spain for six months as part of my degree. I ended up going back there after graduating and staying for twenty-four years, twenty of them in Catalonia. My connection with Catalonia – initially the small city of Girona and then the big guns of Barcelona – was immediate. I felt an affinity with its history of being the smaller partner to a more powerful neighbour, a culture that had been denied and pushed and pulled about at various times, a language that had been banned and belittled, and a culture that continued to thrive despite everything it had faced. And I viewed it all through the prism of my own background.

And that is why, despite the richness of Wales as a setting, there was never any question in my mind that I should write about Catalonia. The problem was that I waited until I was living back in Wales before having the idea to write a book set there, a monument to my planning skills. Except it wasn’t a problem. Just as when I’d first gone to live in Catalonia, I found myself looking at Wales through new eyes and finally understanding how I felt about being Welsh, so writing about Girona from a distance actually helped me pin down my thoughts and feelings about my former adopted home. Oddly, I’ve found that to write about somewhere I love, I need a distance from it, which is probably one of my barriers to writing stories set in Wales – I live here.

The first in my Catalan trilogy, City of Good Death, featuring Elisenda Domènech, a police officer in the newly-created Catalan police force, draws enormously from Catalan culture and the history and legends of Girona. A killer is using the Virgin of Good Death, a small statue dating from the Middle Ages, when it served to give convicted prisoners a final blessing before they were led out of the city to their execution, to announce the impending death of someone they feel is deserving of execution. Unfortunately, there are those in the city who agree and who applaud the killer’s every move. Until the victims become less deserving.

It was a similar passion that led to my new series, featuring Eddie Giral, a French police detective in Paris under the Nazi Occupation. I’d been fascinated for years by the notions of resistance and collaboration, and the blurred lines between them, but I wanted to write the story from a Parisian’s point of view, not the guns and guts heroism of the movies, but the day-to-day survival of ordinary people trying to get by. As near to the real history as possible. And I think that that is an essentially Welsh vision of life – an interest in society and community, an affinity with the underdog and the need to preserve a sense of self.

 

Follow Chris on Twitter: https://twitter.com/chrislloydbcn

 

 

 

 

WELSH WRITING WEDNESDAYS: INTRODUCING CRIME WRITER CHRIS LLOYD

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With writing, there’s always a spark that ignites the flame. In my case, it was a small grey plaque almost hidden inside the entrance to a school.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. My name’s Chris Lloyd and I write crime fiction. I’m from Wales, but I studied Spanish and French at university and fell head over heels in love with the Catalan city of Girona when I spent my study year there. So much so that after I graduated, I hopped straight on the first bus back to Catalonia and there I stayed for nearly a quarter of a century.

I taught English in Girona for a few years before moving to Bilbao, in the Basque Country, where I opened the Oxford University Press office. After that, I moved back to Catalonia – specifically to Barcelona – where I lived for the next sixteen years, apart from a three-year stint in Madrid. I also spent a semester in Grenoble, where I researched the French Resistance movement – you’ll discover the reason for that in a moment.

My job in educational publishing meant that I was paid to travel all around Spain giving workshops and book presentations, which was great fun until it stopped being great fun. That’s when I took voluntary redundancy three days before my fortieth birthday and set up as a Catalan and Spanish translator. I also wrote travel books for Rough Guides at the same time, until my wife and I decided it was time to move to Wales, which is where we live now, in the town where I grew up. All good stories should come full circle.

Which brings me back to the spark.

It was a small grey plaque in a nondescript building and it stopped me in my tracks. It was in the Pletzel, a district of Paris that was home to much of the city’s Jewish population in 1940, and it listed the children from the school who had been sent to Auschwitz and never returned.

I was already researching for a novel set in the city under the Occupation – my fascination with the era and the oddly blurred notions of resistance and collaboration had been ignited when I was in Grenoble – but it was that moment when I felt the small hand of history tug at my sleeve and I knew that I had to tell the story of the city under the Nazis as truthfully as possible.

But I had to tell it my way, through crime fiction. About a Paris police detective, Eddie Giral, a veteran of the last war, who struggles to do his job and retain a moral compass under the new rules imposed on the city and the people. On the day the Nazis enter the city, four Polish refugees are found gassed in a railway truck, and only Eddie among the police feels the need to find out the truth of what happened to them. This will lead him into conflict with his fellow police, an American journalist, the Polish Resistance and, most dangerously of all, the Occupiers. It will also lead him to question decisions he made in the past and decide what he must do to atone in the present.

The first book in the series, The Unwanted Dead, recently won the HWA Gold Crown Award and was shortlisted for the CWA Historical Dagger. The second book, Paris Requiem, comes out in 2022, and I’m currently writing the third in the series, set at Christmas 1940, although with little seasonal cheer or goodwill.

On which note, please allow me to wish you all the very best of cheer for Christmas and the year ahead. And lots of good books to enjoy.

 

 

Read more about Chris at https://chrislloydauthor.com/