I'm dog-earing the corners of my book and my brother-in-law has told me off. I explain I'm marking quotes, it's an airport book and I'll be tearing it up for papier mâché in due course. He says, 'Oh.' And we both know it's not right.
I try to make amends by telling him about John Evelyn's Diary I bought last week, the 1959 edition, two inches thick with very fine paper. He lightens, "Yes, sometimes it's hand-made." Everyone happy, we go back to our tea and I dog-ear the next page.
I'm talking about the latest book, The Impossible Fortune, in The Thursday Murder Club series, a murder mystery featuring friends, Elizabeth, Ibrahim, Joyce and Ron. It's cosy and, at the time of writing, The Record Breaking No.1 Bestseller. Ideal for a plane trip in times of trouble. Spoiler: They solve it.
It's a rip-roaring story, but aside from the lovable characters and storming plot, it's the darkly comedic crime normalised as everyday life ('Kendrick is sure he has heard of the Kray Twins. Are they those two blond YouTubers?'), set alongside delightful domestic chaos which is the charm of the book.
Here's one of my favourites, taking place early in the book, when we're introduced to a new character, Paul Brett, soon to be son-in-law of Joyce:
The very first row was about forty-five seconds after she and Paul told me they were getting married ...
I'd given Joanna a hug, and I'd give Paul a hug, and I asked Joanna if it was going to be a big wedding, and she said, absolutely not, no, she wanted a small, intimate wedding, and I said, I can't remember the words precisely, but something like, 'Oh, that's a shame, but never mind,' something very neutral, you know me, and she said, 'What's a shame?' She said that very politely, because Paul was there, but I could tell that trouble was brewing, so I thought well, I'll just defuse this, and I said, 'Oh, don't listen to me, I just thought, as an older bride, there might be lots of people who would want to come, ' and she said, again, keeping her cool, 'An older bride?' and I thought, you've done it, Joyce, and I said, ' No, not older, it's just a lot of people, if they get married at your time of life, it's a second wedding, after a divorce,' and, again, I could tell that hadn't helped ... I said, 'I'm sure you know best. You always do, don't you?' At this point Joanna asked Paul to go and make us all a cup of tea.
Written down like this, I do see I might have handled it differently. (p.5-6)
I couldn't help thinking of Jane Austen — Mrs Norris in Mansfield Park unable to shut up long after tact has failed her. The tea detail is perfect too: Austen would have loved the tactical removal of a man from the room under the pretence of hospitality.
The book changes tempo for the last 100 pages and gets on with solving the murder without too many digressions, save for Bill Benson ruminating:
Too many people thinking too much was the key problem with the modern world. Think about your garden, sure, think about what you're going to have for tea, think about some things you have some actual power over, but everybody spending all day thinking about things they couldn't influence, where did that lead? p.316
There's some clever twists, an unlikely liaison between two characters and messages sent through a medium where the digital world doesn't feature at all, only lifelong friends and shared memories.
The book has a final moral dilemma about the worst crime of all with a satisfying resolution following a staggering act of bravery. Never underestimate your eighty year olds.
My brother-in-law has lent me Fools and Mortals set in Shakespearean London, complete with a 1590 map and engravings of sixteenth century theatres. He's carefully placed some bookmarks for quotes so I don't have to dog-ear the pages.
Find out more about Thursday Murder Club - Review by @victor2356.
