"don't go of a night into Bleeding Heart Square. It's a dark, little, dirty, black, ill-looking yard, With queer people about." and so begins Bleeding Heart Square. It's about trust and betrayal between mother and daughter, daughter and father and husband and wife. It is also a brilliant exten...
Bleeding Heart Square is wonderful. Cast aside your preconceived notions of a typical "British Mystery" because this is so much more than that. Not just a mystery (my favorite genre), not just historical fiction (my second favorite genre), and not just British (another of my favorites), but a c...
But I needed to think about what I had learned. I walked up past Staples Inn and into Holborn. My head churned with uncomfortable thoughts. Mistress Sneyd had ordered me from her sight, cursing me for the news I had brought her. The best she could hope for now was a life of drudgery. As for the w...
Saturday, 5 April 1930 Here I am, sitting at my desk in the window of my own morning room looking out at my own garden! For the first time in my life, I am the mistress of my own establishment. How strange and delightful--I have always lived in other people's houses--the first with Mother and Fat...
I had seen him on television, of course—it was increasingly hard to miss him—but the last time I had met him in person was when we picked up our degrees. Mary had been there too. “Well,” he’d said, punching me gently on the arm. “Thank God it’s over. Let’s find a drink. We need to celebrate.” “No...
Like an automaton, he changed on to the District Line at Hammersmith and got off at Turnham Green. With his eyes half-closed he walked down to Chiswick High Road, where habit drove him into an off-licence. He bought a bottle of Veuve Clicquot – might as well do things properly – half a bottle of ...
The candles were lit but, even in the gloom, I knew that something was different. She laid aside the book and offered me tea. ‘The Judge will be down directly. He is with Mrs Wintour.’ I took the cup from her. The room seemed unexpectedly airier and clearer than usual. I looked about me and saw w...
Mrs Lee was the aunt of a local clergyman, and I understood she was paying a long visit to Monkshill-park. There was little conversation apart from that which emanated from Mr Carswall himself. He ate sparingly, but drank deeply, working his way through glass after glass of claret. “I took it upo...
Jill brought out a second handful of flowers from the other pocket of her raincoat and let them trickle on to the chest. ‘What on earth have you been doing?’ Philip asked as he shut the front door. ‘Embezzling from the Earl Haig Fund? Don’t tell me you’ve betrayed your sacred trust?’ Jill smiled ...