Magpie Lane, by Lucy Atkins.

            A Scottish Nanny is being interviewed by two detectives in the university city of Oxford:  they wish to know her version of events leading up to the disappearance of her eight-year-old charge, Felicity, the daughter of a new, hugely influential and charismatic College Master.  What is the child like?  Has she many friends?  Does she ‘get on’ with her new, pregnant stepmother, glamorous Mariah?  Is she still grieving for her mother, dead for four years?  For Felicity suffers from a number of psychological problems, not least ‘selective mutism; she communicates with no-one except her father – and that seldom because of the demands of his job and social life.

            Dee is eager to answer their questions accurately;  the sooner they can find her damaged little girl, the better – but she gradually sees that the questions take a sinister turn, one slanted by Felicity’s parents to portray Dee as having a negative influence on the child, innocently caused by  gradually winning Felicity’s trust with affection and support, virtues spectacularly lacking in the little girl’s life.  Felicity now ‘speaks’ to Dee reasonably often, even less to her father, and never to Mariah:  it’s painfully clear where her loyalties lie.

An added and frankly eerie complication is that the ancient house they have been allocated seems to have more than its fair share of Things That Go Bump In The Night, and Mariah’s attempts to redecorate in cool Nordic colours (she’s from Denmark) horrify the other Oxford Dons, stout supporters of 400 year old traditions:  could they have given this illustrious position to someone Gravely Unsuitable?

Ms Atkins takes us on an intimate tour of the great city, bastion of all that is noble in Western thought, ‘of history, literature, philosophy, politics, art and scientific discovery’, but she cleverly presents quite a different side to those who frequent its dreaming spires:  lofty thought still descends regularly into dog-eat-dog rivalry, arrogance and ignoble disapproval.  This is no place for Felicity’s spectacularly dysfunctional family, still less for her, and the new information that a child may have been murdered in Felicity’s bedroom a century before fills Dee with dread: are they haunted, and where is her poor, damaged, mute little girl?

Ms Atkins has created an intelligent and fascinating mystery, with strong, credible characters and a pace that doesn’t falter;  add to that a wealth of intriguing historical details about Oxford luminaries of the past, and we have the perfectly written ingredients for a great reading experience.  FIVE STARS         

Crooked River, by Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child.

            I have been languishing on my chaise-longue (not really:  I don’t have one), in a decline because I have been deprived for too long of the latest adventures of fearless, resourceful and brilliant FBI Special Agent Aloysius Pendergast – what have Preston and Child been doing?  Having a holiday?   At the very least they should have been satisfying their legions of fans with a bloodthirsty new mystery that only that silver-haired, silver-tongued and silver-eyed polymath could solve.  The wait has been disappointingly long:  I shall say nothing more, except that it’s about time!

            Our hero and his mysterious ward Constance Greene (she wears a lot of organdy;  he wears a white silk suit, making him resemble an Albino Drug Lord) are enjoying a luxurious vacation on an unnamed island off the coast of Florida, when they are visited by his new superior ADC Walter Pickett:  Pendergast’s help and input are needed ASAP as dozens of shoes of the same variety have drifted onto the shore of two of Florida’s most charming off-shore island tourist beaches.  This would be minor news – but for the fact that each shoe is filled with a foot, amputated in the crudest possible fashion.  Needless to say, Pendergast’s curiosity is indeed aroused and he swings into action, first recruiting FBI Agent Coldmoon, his colleague from ‘Verses for the Dead’.  Agent Coldmoon is vacationing too, and is most reluctant to be involved – unless he’s an equal partner:  none of this junior colleague shit – he wants recognition for nearly getting totalled in the Everglades.  It’s time to acknowledge his talent.

            Well, if that’s the price, so be it.  Agent Pendergast knows how and when to relent:  as we all know, there are many different ways to skin a cat, and he, Coldmoon and Constance are launched on another hair-raising, bloodthirsty quest for answers, including the fact that whatever knowledge they glean is available also to a very formidable enemy:  everything they find out has been hacked. 

            As the mystery gradually reveals itself the danger multiplies ten-fold, with Pendergast’s life within an inch of being snuffed out (again!), but Coldmoon demonstrates his worth as a true partner, and Constance appears as the Cavalry – in the nick of time, naturally, slaying all before her.  What a woman!  And where did she learn to operate (let alone carry – she’s a slight wee thing!) a military machine gun?  Well, as we all know, all things are possible in a Pendergast adventure;  the trick is to make it believable – and above all, entertaining:  Preston and Child are masters at it.  FIVE STARS.

The Mirror and the Light, by Hilary Mantel.

This is the final volume of Hilary Mantel’s trilogy of novels recounting the tempestuous partnership between Tudor King Henry VIII and his utterly devoted ‘Fixer’, Thomas Cromwell – Cromwell, who rose to Lord Privy Seal, and whose power, with the king’s approval, became so great and all-encompassing that Henry’s nobles feared that such a base-born yokel would eventually become a danger to them and their own dreams of glory:  such delusions of grandeur so far above his station have to be stopped!

The story opens where ‘Bring Up the Bodies’ finished, with the beheading of Anne Boleyn, that incestuous, adulterous whore, leaving Henry free to make plans to wed young Jane Seymour, who will surely give him a son to ensure the Tudor Succession.  His daughters Mary and Elizabeth have been declared bastards, and Mary has been coerced into renouncing her Catholic faith (on pain of death, Cromwell makes clear) so that her father may renounce Roman beliefs, establish the Church of England – and plunder the treasure and lands of the Monasteries and Abbeys.  The wealth pouring into the king’s treasury is enormous, but a large proportion must be spent arming England against its Catholic enemies;  Cromwell has never been more busy, lining his own pockets handsomely along the way – naturally.

In this mammoth last episode, Ms Mantel relates the facts of history in ways that make them all seem new;  each character is beautifully drawn, especially Henry, that Monarch who believes utterly in his divine right to have that which no-one else does, and Cromwell is always there to execute his wishes – never mind that foreign diplomats regard Henry as ‘a man of great endowments, lacking only consistency, reason and sense’:  with Cromwell behind him (in the shadows) the end will always justify the means.

Until it doesn’t:  Jane Seymour dies giving birth to the much-longed-for son, but the next marriage to Anne of Cleves, engineered by Cromwell to form an alliance with German Protestant princes is disastrously unsatisfactory, both to the ageing king, no longer the handsome man in his flattering portraits, and Anne, not the beauty that Holbein has painted.  Because Henry cannot and will not blame himself, the blame falls on Cromwell – who else?  With predictable consequences.

Ms Mantel’s talents are such that she evokes in effortless detail a time when the power-mad and the power-hungry jostled for favoured positions with the Supreme Power – crushing the powerless along the way.  She was awarded the Booker Prize for ‘Wolf Hall’ and ‘Bring up the Bodies’:  (search drop box)  could she be lucky a third time?  SIX STARS 

           

 

It’s the School holidays, it’s winter and raining, so what better place to be than your library to choose some cool books to take home – like the one below!

Chase, by Linwood Barclay.           Juvenile fiction

            Linwood Barclay is very well known for writing excellent thrillers;  now, kids, your luck is in because this is his first book for children, and I am sure adults will find this story just as unputdownable as his new young audience.

(I certainly did!)

            Border Collie Chipper lives in a cage in ‘The  Institute’, a secret government facility that trains intelligent animals to be spies – after all, who would ever suspect a docile animal supposedly asleep within earshot of secret conversations in countries like Afghanistan and other places that are not US Allies?  He is also fitted with some very advanced and sophisticated software;  a GPS that tracks his whereabouts, plus tiny cameras in his eyes which give his handlers close-ups of who he’s close to.  He’s a million-dollar+ dog – until his in-born playfulness (he loves chasing squirrels, YEAH!) causes his minders to decide to cut their losses:  this dog, despite the millions spent on him, is too unreliable for field-work.  They’re going to put him down.

            And Chipper knows this.  He’s a very smart dog anyway, but two kind previous handlers have programmed extra information into him – like the urge to escape, and the intelligence to do it, AND a compulsion to find a young boy called Jeff Conroy, who badly needs his help, for Jeff is in great danger:  Chipper has to find him before the Institute finds him – no easy task.

            Meantime, Jeff is living with his Aunt Flo at her tourist fishing camp alongside Pickerel Lake.  Aunt Flo has taken Jeff in after the recent tragic accidental death of his parents:  there are two major disadvantages to this arrangement.  Aunt Flo is a neat freak and she works Jeff relentlessly.  She also hates dogs, so Jeff’s beloved companion Pepper has had to be rehomed.  Jeff doesn’t know who he loves and misses more – his parents or Pepper.  He certainly doesn’t care for Aunt Flo, but his life is about to change in the most dramatic way when Chipper eventually finds him – and so do the ruthless assassins from the Institute.

            Mr Barclay ramps up the action to a frantic pace;  he also ends the story with a huge question mark:  what will happen next??  For this is a start of a series ( I have book two, ‘Escape’ reserved already);  Chipper and Jeff are still in danger, especially from someone they trust absolutely, but the bond of love between dog and boy never wavers.  They will be friends for life.  FIVE STARS.  Great for ages 10+.                  

Redhead by the Side of the Road, by Anne Tyler.

            The only thing wrong with this book is its length:  it’s too short!  As always, Ms Tyler draws the reader effortlessly into her story of a very ordinary Baltimore man whom quite a number of us would regard as eccentric were it not for his innate decency, good humour and strength of character – which does not always come to the fore unless tested.

            Micah Mortimer lives, by his own choice, a fairly regimented life.  He jogs a certain route every morning starting at 7.15am;  he has different days and times for various chores in his apartment, and supports himself by fixing computer problems (He’s The Tech Hermit) and being the Go-To guy in his apartment building should anything need repairing.  In short, Micah fixes things but doesn’t create.  But that doesn’t matter – he’s happy enough with his life;  he has a ‘woman friend’ (he refuses to call Cass his girlfriend because she is a teacher in her late 30’s, hardly a girl);  they are very comfortable together and life is about as satisfying (and predictable) as one can expect.

            Until Cass could be evicted from her apartment, and expects Micah to invite her to move in with him, rather than face the alarming prospect of her and her cat (the cause of the eviction) being made homeless.  Micah does not react well, and before he can gather his wits and apologise for his insensitivity, his woman friend has opted out of his hum-drum little life.

            And that’s not all:  a rich-looking, preppy young man turns up on his doorstep, convinced that Micah is his birth-father.  The boy Brink (yes, that’s really his name) has fought with his parents and somehow connected dots – all the wrong ones – to arrive at the conclusion that he and Micah should bond and get to know each other.  The seas of Micah’s life, disturbed by hardly a ripple for years are suddenly at the mercy of a Force 10 gale, and he doesn’t know what to do – except try to fix it all.

            In prose beautiful and simple as breathing, Ms Tyler guides the reader through all attempts successful or otherwise that Micah makes to improve people’s situations – and his own.  Once again she has created characters unforgettable in their ordinariness, and once again we are charmed by her complete mastery of our emotions.  I didn’t want to let Micah go in just 178 pages:  give us more!  FIVE STARS.  (For being so short.)   

  

Bull Mountain,

Like Lions, by Mike Panowich.

         

            Hold onto your seats, folks, you’re in for a very bumpy ride as former FireFighter Brian Panowich flexes his literary muscles and launches our readers’ rollercoaster at the summit of Bull Mountain, his first novel of a family of Good Ole Boys gone bad in North Georgia. 

            The first book recounts the history of a dynasty of hillbilly drug-dealers started by Cooper Burroughs, who killed his brother Riley in front of Cooper’s 9 year-old son Gareth because Riley thought they should try to make money legitimately – then Cooper instructed Gareth to dig Riley’s grave.  Mountain Men are tough, and their sons better be damn tough as well.  The sooner they learn that the better! 

            Gareth grows up according to plan;  the sad thing is that he has three sons whom he expects to be as ruthless and brutal as he has trained them and they are, expanding his meth empire with the outside help of a biker gang into other states – except for youngest son Clayton:  durned if he hasn’t become the local Sheriff!  And as far from being a crooked lawman living in their pocket as it is possible to be, for Clayton loves his wife, loves where he lives, and wants to Protect and Serve.  ‘Bull Mountain’ deals with his struggle to reconcile his upbringing, his conscience and his homicidal family – just managing to survive after a bloody shoot-out with his brother, the consequences of which are covered in ‘Like Lions’.

            It’s not easy to produce a sequel that lives up to the excitement and suspense of the first book, but Mr Panowich has succeeded effortlessly, carrying on the unrelenting tension and brutal characterisation at a heart-stopping rate.  Clayton is still Sheriff, but has been terribly wounded in the gunfight with his brother;  he is now a father, with a baby son at home – and a wife he sees less of than he should, for his conscience won’t let him alone and he drinks to stop its nagging voice.  The family drug empire without his brother’s leadership is floundering and other crims are making aggressive moves.  What to do?  How can a crippled, alky headcase save his community – save anything?  Clayton is in a very dark place, and worse is yet to come.

            But!

            The writer saves the day in a way that doesn’t insult the reader’s intelligence;  he ties up all loose ends efficiently and as a bonus provides a most satisfying twist to the plot at the very end.  His larger-than-life characters (and their dialogue!) are unforgettable:  hard men, harsh prose, and hard country.  Brian Panowich, you’re a STAR.  SIX STARS.         

Saving Missy, by Beth Morrey.

           It was a lovely surprise to find that a book with such a misleading title (I thought it was about the rescue of a beloved pet!) can utterly belie its appearance.  Lockdown at its various levels means boredom reigned supreme, so readers need Excitement!  Thrills!  Humour!  Pathos!  You know:  all of those things.

BUT.

Ms Morrey’s debut novel contains all these prerequisites in generous quantities. How happy I am that I got past the cover, for main protagonist Missy is a force to be reckoned with, even though she never realises her power.

Millicent Carmichael is 79 years old.  She rattles around in a big suburban London house by herself;  her husband is gone and her son lives in Australia with her only grandchild.  Millicent has fought bitterly with her daughter, who wants her to sell up and get something much smaller in Cambridge so Melanie and her gay partner can ‘keep an eye on her’.  Oh, really?  Not bloody likely!  For Millicent has had a lifelong association with Cambridge;  she was a Classicist with a very good degree, but gave up her career to wed the love of her life, Leo Carmichael, soon to become an internationally famous historian.  Millicent and her children became acolytes to the Great Man, whether they wanted to or not, Worshippers of the Flame – but when the Flame goes out, what is left?

An aching and terrible loneliness, some of it her fault,(very hard to admit) – and the consolation of alcohol, which has always featured largely in her life, and is even more of a crutch now.

Until a chance meeting in the local park (what was left but to get out of the house and walk in the park?) with two very different women, Angela, a potty-mouthed Irish solo mum with a darling little son called Otis (the same age as Millicent’s beloved grandson) and Sylvie, a very resourceful, community-minded Interior Designer.  It doesn’t take very long before Millicent becomes Missy, her name of choice, and her world thanks to these women who make her feel so necessary, starts to expand – she even gets lumbered with a DOG!  Who’s not hers to keep, mind, only a loan while the owner goes through a rough patch – but when Missy starts dog-walking, she meets a whole new circle of friends.  Can life get any better?

No.  Tragedy strikes, as it always does, but thanks to her new-found loyal friends, Missy finds practical solutions to her previously insoluble problems.  Beth Morrey has triumphed:  all her characters are beautifully realised and utterly convincing, and she writes compellingly about problems that face us all at different times of our lives.  This is a gem of a book!  SIX STARS.