Sorry for the Dead by Nicola Upson

 

Josephine Tey Mystery #8

350 pages

Blurb

Summer, 1915: a young woman falls to her death at Charleston Farmhouse on the Sussex Downs. But was it an accident?

Twenty years later, Josephine Tey is faced with the accusation that it was murder, and that she was complicit in the crime. Can she clear her name and uncover the truth, exposing the darkest secrets of that apparently idyllic summer?

 

Review                        

It’s been years since I last read a Josephine Tey mystery by Nicola Upson. I loved the first three when I discovered them and I’m not sure why I stopped reading them, but it was obviously a mistake. When I saw this latest title on the shelves in the library where I work, I picked it up immediately and that was a great decision.

The timeline in this story is spread out over 33 years with the first death happening in 1915 and the second in 1948 and involves a lot more than ‘just’ two suspicious deaths. And, as much as I love mysteries, especially well plotted ones like this, I have to admit that the secondary plot (if you can call it that) intrigued me more. I’ll get back to that.

In 1915 Josephine travels to the Sussex Downs to help supervising a group of schoolgirls who are spending their summer working on a farm run by Harriet and George, two women with a passion for horticulture and also for each other. The true nature of their relationship is a closely guarded secret, but when Josephine arrives on the farm, she soon recognises it for what it is, and she isn’t the only one. One of the girls has made an anonymous phone call to accuse the women in charge of Charleston Farmhouse of indecent behaviour. When that girl subsequently dies under suspicious circumstances, Josephine isn’t the only one suspecting foul play, but the subsequent inquest rules it death by misadventure, and that should have been the end of it.

Twenty years later a newspaper article brings the events from 1915 back to the fore while implying that the girl was murdered. and that Josephine is somehow implicated in the deed or the covering up thereof. Josephine wouldn’t be Josephine if she took the accusation lying down and it isn’t long before she’s investigating what really happened. Her quest reunites her with several people she hasn’t seen for in over twenty years and brings back memories of a special but also painful and confusing time of her life.

Which brings me to the sub-plot. The two women who own and run Charleston Farmhouse are in a relationship. They are very discrete because they know the world at large doesn’t approve but living in close quarters with a group of girls on the cups of adulthood means that their secret isn’t safe.

Josephine falls for and starts a relationship with Jeannie, a young woman her own age she meets in Sussex. As everything falls apart after the girl dies, Josephine experiences first-hand how the world feels about women who love women, and it pushes her to make a hurtful decision.

For me, that was the real story in this book. Since it also plays a huge role in the mystery and its resolution, you could call it the theme of this novel. How much are we willing to endure for love? How much are we willing to put at risk? Is love enough when the rest of the world turns its back to you? How far are we willing to go to protect those we love? In fact, book could just as easily have been called ‘The Things We Do for Love’. Because when pushed enough, love, in all its wonderous and obsessive forms, can make us do the most amazing and shocking things.

Long story short; Sorry for the Dead is a wonderful book containing a fascinating mystery and an equally interesting background story. Well plotted and a very smooth read, this story was a joy to read.

Listening Still by Anne Griffin

Sceptre

345 pages

 Blurb

Jeanie Masterson has a gift: She can hear the recently dead and give voice to their final wishes and revelations. Shared by her father, the gift has enabled the family undertakers to flourish in their small Irish town.

Yet, Jeanie has always been uneasy about censoring what she hears to protect the feelings of the living. Unsure too about the choice she made seventeen years ago, giving up the chance of a new life in London with her first love, Fionn, to work with her father and aunt – or the wisdom of marrying her faithful childhood friend Niall when she has never quite been able to forget Fionn.

Until now Jeanie has stifled her doubts, but when her parents unexpectedly announce their plan to retire and leave the business to her and Niall, she is jolted out of limbo.

In this captivating successor to her bestselling debut When All is Said, Anne Griffin masterfully portrays a young woman torn between duty and a last chance to break free – unaware that she’s not the only one who has long been softening the truth.

 

 Review

What to say about Listening Still other than WOW. Anne Griffin has done it again, be it that for me, Listening Still isn’t quite as breath-taking as When All is Said was. However, that may be because I have very strong feelings about the subject matter of the latter book, and not because there’s anything wrong with Listening Still.

In Listening Still, we meet thirty-something Jeanie who finds herself reassessing her whole life and the decisions she made and avoided making. Born into a family of funeral directors and being one of only two people in Ireland who can hear the thoughts of the death, her future appears set in stone before she is old enough to fully realise what a future is especially since she loves hearing from the death as a child.

Jeanie is basically a good girl, who takes her responsibilities seriously and, for the longest time, without much question. When Jeanie’s parents announce their decision to retire and move away, the house of cards starts crumbling. Jeanie questions everything. With her dad being the only other person who can communicate with the recently deceased, Jeanie will no longer be able to share the burden. She has long held doubts about her father’s inclination to beautify the final words and revelations when relaying them to the next of kin. Was she right to give up on the love of her life in order to fulfil what felt like her destiny? Does she love her husband, Niall enough? Is the life she is living really what she wants and needs?

In many ways this is a coming-of-age story, even if Jeanie goes through the process somewhat later in life than most. Jeanie has always done what was expected of her and has taken her responsibilities very seriously without ever asking herself how she felt about it. Between her parents’ announcement and further shocks, her breakdown is hardly surprising. The question becomes if it’s ever too late to be what you might have been and if Jeanie could ever have been anything other than what she is. The story poses some further interesting questions, such as, why do we tell those seemingly innocent little white lies? Is it really to spare others pain or discomfort or are our reasons more selfish; are we in fact trying to save ourselves from uncomfortable situations or embarrassment? Listening Still also asks how much of our lives we live for ourselves. How much of ourselves our we willing to deny in order to accommodate others?

I can’t say I agreed with or understood many of Jeanie’s decisions, nor her refusal to make them. But I was fascinated by the dilemmas she faces, heartbroken about some of the consequences, and frustrated with her refusal to take responsibility for the consequences of her (in)actions. It is, however, not necessary to agree with or even like characters in order to get caught up in their journey, and Jeanie’s progress over the course of this book had me entranced.

Maurice, from When All is Said makes an appearance in this story. Well, his corpse does. And he doesn’t talk to Jeanie. What she learns about him, she hears from his son, Kevin. I can’t help wondering if Anne Griffin was tempted to make him speak to Jeanie, to explain his reasoning one more time. Whether she considered it or not, I’m glad she didn’t, because Maurice told us everything we needed to know about him in his own amazing and memorable book.

My romance writer’s heart struggled with the somewhat ambiguous ending, but that’s not to say there was anything wrong with how the book ended. Quite the opposite in fact. When everything starts from scratch, the future is, by its very nature, at least a little ambiguous. The story couldn’t have ended any other way; if it had, it would have been a betrayal of both the previous 340 pages and of the main character(s).

Long review short: Listening Still was a captivating read, even if it did read a little like a car crash at times. The twist near the end was clever in that it came as a shock as well as a moment of clarity. While this isn’t a book for someone who wants stories to end with every question answered and all characters settled into their happy ever after, this is the perfect read for someone who, like me, enjoys playing the ‘I wonder what might happen next’ game after they’ve read the last chapter. With a storyline and main character that will stay with me for a long time, Listening Still has earned itself a place on my ‘extra-special’ list.

To read my review of When All is Said, click here: Review

 

  

Make Yourself at Home by Ciara Geraghty

404 pages

Publisher: HarperCollins

Blurb

 It’s the last place she wants to be. It’s the only place left to go

When Marianne’s carefully constructed life and marriage fall apart, she is forced to return to Ancaire, the ramshackle seaside house perched high on a cliff by the Irish Sea. There she must rebuild her relationship with her mother, Rita, a flamboyant artist and recovering alcoholic who lives by her own rules.

Marianne left home when she was fifteen following a traumatic and tragic incident. She never planned to return, and now she has to face the fact that some plans don’t work out the way you wanted them to. But she might just discover that, sometimes, you have to come to terms with the story of your past before you can work out the shape of the future…

Set on the wild Irish coast, with an unforgettable cast of characters, this deeply emotional novel is full of Ciara Geraghty’s trademark heart and poignancy.

Review

Having read and enjoyed Ciara Geraghty’s books in the past, I went into this story fully expecting to love it too. I was not prepared for how much Marianne’s tale would capture me, keep me enthralled, and make me think.

On the surface, this is the story about a woman coming to terms with the unexpected demise of her marriage and the troubled relationship with her mother, and that would have made an interesting story.

Scratch that surface just a little, and you’ll find so much more. Marianne put her feelings on hold when she was a teenager. From that moment forward her decisions have been based on practical considerations rather than emotions. It was safe and, for some time, her distant approach to life and connections worked. She seemed to have it all: a practical husband who appeared to be as eager as she was to keep emotions at bay, a good and safe job, a beautiful house, furnished to her exact and unexciting standards. She’s created an environment in which she can pretend she is fine, her life is good, and the past is an ugly but distant memory.

When her house of cards falls apart, Marianne crumbles too. With all her securities torn away she has no choice but to return to the past, the house, and the mother, she’s avoided for more than half her life.

Going home for Marianne is like returning to the setting of a nightmare. Back at Ancaire (Anker—such an appropriate name), Marianne doesn’t try to be nice or take care of herself. She resents others trying to take care of her and puts as much distance between herself and her mother’s life as she can, given they’re sharing a house and her mother’s full-on approach to life.

Between Rita’s joie de vivre, the mixed bag of characters that make up Rita’s group of recovering alcoholics, and a persistent dog, Marianne appears to be coming back from the brink. Almost against her wishes, Marianne finds herself getting involved with causes and interested in people again. Until a shocking discovery throws her back to what appears to be square one.

This story packs a punch, yet it is written so well and so smoothly that the reader could almost miss that rather than an angry and selfish woman, Marianne is a lost soul who has struggled with depression ever since she was fifteen—for so long, in fact, that she doesn’t recognise her actions and reactions as a mental health issue.

For a very long time, Marianne reads as an unsympathetic main character whereas her mother appears to be a bundle of joy. And that’s where the beauty of this story comes fully to light. Because nothing is that simple and, just as Marianne is pulled out of her self-isolation almost against her wishes and in barely perceptible steps, I was surprised to find myself first sympathising with her and then understanding her actions and thoughts. This story and the characters in it are real and raw. They crawled their way under my skin. I wasn’t just interested in how their story might end, I was invested in their journey and its outcome.

I love that the book didn’t end on miracles. Instead, we’re given a scattering of possibilities, glimmers of hope, and potential futures. And while the above may make you think that Make Yourself at Home is a heavy and possibly depressing read, the opposite is through. Marianne’s darkest moments are balanced by the very mixed and mostly unfiltered company she keeps. For every painful experience, there is at least one laugh-out-loud moment. And Marianne’s journey is not only beautiful to behold but inspirational too.

Long story short: Make Yourself at Home is an amazing read. It will make you think and feel, but most of all, it will ultimately lift you up and leave you with a satisfied smile on your face. This book is exactly what I needed to fight my 18-month long reading slump.