True Love and a Happy Ending

When Hetty Longden arrives at her boyfriend's cottage and finds him in bed with another woman she rips up the embroidered antique sheet which covers the couple, and drives into his expensive Porsche, wrecking her own car in the process. Heart-broken, she abandons job and flat, and retreats to her parents' home. But her mother, determined not to let Hetty wallow in self pity, packs her off to house sit for great-uncle Samuel.

The house in question is a beautiful old mansion, falling into decay after years of neglect. There is no money for repairs, and Connor, the heir to the property - whom Hetty hates even before she meets him - wants to turn his inheritance into a theme park. So Hetty unites the villagers and sets out to save the building and its surrounding land. And the scene is set for conflict and misunderstanding, before the inevitable, highly satisfying happy ending.

Stately Pursuits is classic Katie Fforde and is thoroughly enjoyable. As I've said before, some people turn their noses up at her work, and are very dismissive of romantic fiction, but I think they are missing out. Like Maeve Binchy, Fforde is a great story teller, and has a warmth and compassion that shines through. Her heroines, including Hetty, are feisty, independent, intelligent women, who don't always recognise true love when they stumble across it, but are always credibly drawn, and the host of minor characters are also entirely believable. And it's the relationships between characters that is one of Katie Fforde's great strengths. She writes well, with wit, humour and intelligence, and creates tightly constructed plots that keep you glued to the page (well, I can never put them down, and I'm sure there are many readers who feel the same way).

It could be argued that there's a certain similarity in plots: girl meets boy, there's some kind of misunderstanding (or else they hate each other on sight), there are various problems to be overcome, and eventually they get it together and, one hopes, live happily ever after. And what's so wrong with that? After all, when you think about it, the love lives of Elizabeth Bennett, Margaret Hale, Molly Gibson and Jane Eyre all follow a similar pattern!

There's no shock of language here, and no experimentation with the format of the novel, so I dare say Fforde wouldn't win approval from a Man Booker judge. But there are times when you want something familiar that's light and comforting, something that you don't have to analyse, or think too deeply about.

Oh dear, I seem to have ended up writing a general piece about Katie Fforde, rather than a specific review of this book, but it was a lovely read, and was very funny in places – I loved the account of poor Hetty trying to get to grips with the antiquated kitchen, and the way we can see that she and Connor are meant for each other, even though she refuses to acknowledge the attraction she feels. And, despite the 'stately' setting, it's very down to earth, and Hetty is so likeable, and so willing to set to and turn her hand to anything as she fights to keep the house alive, that you can't fail to be charmed by the story. I know it's a fairy tale, but I've always had a weakness for fair tales, and this is no exception.

This particular edition, published by Penguin in 1998, is another of those Katie Fforde books with a proper painted cover picture, which I always snap up when I see them because they are so much more pleasing than those modern pastel fronts which scream 'chick-lit' at you and seem to be a uniform design. Illustrations on the older versions of Fforde's novels are much more individual and, I think, much more suited to her work. The cover on this book was painted by Jean-Paul Tibbles, who is known for his beautifully detailed portraits.

Love, Housework and Happy Endings

My 1996 Penguin edition of The Rose
Revived, with its lovely cover painted
by Pamela Kay

There are those who dismiss Katie Fforde because she is a writer of romantic fiction, but all I can say is, they don’t know what they’re missing. And I’m not going to describe her as a guilty pleasure because firstly, it’s such a contradiction in terms, and secondly, one should never, ever feel guilty about reading. If you enjoy a book, that’s fine, no matter who the author is, or what the genre. And the same applies in reverse: just remember there’s no rule which stops you hating a book, even if it is written by a highly acclaimed modern novelist, or a great classic author.

Anyway, I digress. Fforde’s The Rose Revived is the final book in my loosely themed ‘housework’ quartet, and it may not be ‘great literature’, but it is very enjoyable. Desperate for cash, and emotionally fragile, May, Harriet and Sally meet when they find work at Quality Cleaners, but quickly discover their boss (‘Slimeball’) has conned them, so they set up business on their own, despite their lack of experience.

The only member of the trio who knows anything about housework is single-mother Harriet, brought up by her repressive grandparents, who not only refuse to let her pursue a career as an artist, but are also denying her access to her 10-year-old son at the boarding school they pay for. Sally, obsessed with her looks and weight, is an aspiring actress, whose relationship with her controlling boyfriend is on the rocks, while May, the chief  protagonist,  is an independent feminist, who bought her boyfriend’s share in their narrowboat home(the Rose Revived) when he left – then realised he had not paid the mooring fees.


Her efforts to keep her home are a key feature in the novel, and at one stage it provides a refuge for May's two friends (as well as Sally's bags of clothes), and having once lived on a boat myself I know Fforde's descriptions are spot-on, and am aware of just how cramped space can be, how precious the onboard water is, and how friendly the boating community are. 

Traditional canal boat paintings of roses, from
www.chester canalheritagetrust.co.uk

As their friendship flourishes, they all discover talents they never knew they had and, of course, they each meet a man... There is Leo, the artist with past, who lives in some squalor in a flat which Harriet cleans; Sally falls hopelessly in love with cash-strapped farmer James, and May  spars with Hugh, a hot-shot lawyer who is the brother of the head of Harriet’s son’s boarding school, and a friend of one of her clients.

The course of true love, as in all romantic tales, does not run smoothly, and there are  bumpy rides all round before misunderstandings are ironed out ready for the obligatory happy ending.  Each girl (they are in their mid-twenties, and I should refer to them as women, which is politically correct, but girls is much more apt) ends up with the partner and lifestyle that is right for them (even if it takes them a while to realise this), enabling them to fulfill their potential, and become the person they were always meant to be, developing their skills, and establishing relationships on equal terms.

I took this picture of boats reflected in the canal
at Birmingham's Gas Street Basin last month, and
I'm sure there are similarities with London's canals. 

They all find their niche, which in some ways, I think, echoes the themes in my last 'housework' book, The Home-Maker. The story is told with wit and humour, and is nicely constructed, with just the right amount of dramatic tension. Fforde is an intelligent writer, who creates sympathetic characters, well-drawn settings, and a credible plot that romps along at a nice pace. This particular edition, published by Penguin in 1996, has a great cover – a reproduction of a proper painting, Hannah with Teacup, by Pamela Kay, which gives it a feeling of gravitas lacked by modern editions with their branded wishy-washy pastel images. 

A Perfect Christmas Read

Well, it’s December 12 and there’s another 12 days to go until Christmas Day, and so far my books have included children’s classics, poems, a Stuart recipe and a Medieval. Coming up are some more children’s tales, John Donne, TS Eliot, Dickens, and a Bible reading. But what we need is some fun – and what could be more fun than a romantic novel. And the romantic novel selected for your delectation is Twelve Days of Christmas, by Trisha Ashley.

The story is simply told. Widowed Holly Brown has been brought up by her grandmother, a Strange Baptist (is there really such a sect, I wonder), who doesn’t do Christmas. So when Holly gets married she does the whole thing in a big way: food, decorations, gifts. Then her husband drowns while trying to rescue a dog that’s fallen through the ice, and her grandmother dies, whispering the name of a mystery man: Ned Martland. Holly quits her job with a restaurant and works for an agency, cooking for house parties. Before you know, it’s Christmas again and she’s asked to house-sit up on the East Lancashire moors, for sculptor Jude Martland...

She's looking forward to a period of solitude, but when she arrives there’s an elderly aunt and uncle and various other relatives to be cared for, as well as a dog, a horse, a goat, and a stroppy teenage girl.  Snow sets in and everyone is marooned in the house, including Coco, a brainless model who was once engaged to Jude but ran off with his brother; the brother, who is anxious to escape Coco’s clutches; a stranded traveller, and Jude himself, who turns up unexpectedly. Are you with me so far?

While the action romps along in the style of a French farce, Jude proves to be a hero much in the mould of Edward Rochester: dark, rugged (but not handsome), taciturn, bad-tempered. He and Holly, who is well able to stand up for herself, are soon a loggerheads, despite the obvious attraction between them, and the dramatic tension begins to mount.

Holly agrees to stay until the Twelfth Nights revels are over. Meanwhile, she spends her spare time reading the journal written by her grandmother (remember her?) and trying to piece together the story of a lost love and her family’s connection with the Martlands, which may threaten her burgeoning relationship with Jude. 

Secrets are revealed, misunderstandings resolved and, needless to say, all ends happily. This is a really enjoyable feel-good novel, just perfect for the Christmas season. It’s well-paced, warm, funny, and the characters are always believable, however outrageous their behaviour. Twelve Days of Christmas may not be 'great literature', but it is nicely written, easy to read,  and perfect for curling up by the fire on a cold winter night. There are even some recipes at the back, for a Wassail Punch, Revel Cakes, and Ginger and Spice Christmas Tree Biscuits, which are very nice indeed. Read and enjoy – preferably with a glass of wine and a biscuit.

Light, Frothy, and very Enjoyable!

Shy, well-read Laura Horsley faces unemployment when the book shop she works in closes down, but she is persuaded to help run a literary festival at a stately home in the country and is expected to entice famously reclusive Irish author Dermot Flynn out of his self-imposed isolation to attend the event. There you have the general gist of Love Letters, by Katie Fforde, but there’s more to it than that for this is a comedy of errors and misunderstandings in which Laura learns about life and love as she discovers emotions and feelings for herself, rather than acquiring knowledge through the pages of her favourite novels.

She’s an engaging heroine, whose quiet, self-contained manner contrasts with the other characters. There is Grant, her gay colleague, who is determined to make Laura live a little; feisty, uninhibited Monica, the singer in an all-girl swing trio, and Eleanora Huckleby, the outrageous, flamboyant agent. Then, of course, there is the charismatic Dermot Flynn himself, and a host of minor characters, including some snobby book group ladies who are very dismissive of Laura and her views - until they realise she has actually met the famous Irish author.

The characters are well drawn, the settings are credible and the story moves along at a cracking pace as girl meets boy, girl runs away, boy finds girl, and everyone lives happily ever after in the tradition of all good fairytales. It’s light, frothy, and very enjoyable, but there are other issues here: Laura – and some of the other characters – must decide whether to take a risk on the future, or stick with the comfort and safety of what they know.  And there are more serious problems to be considered, like unemployment, independent book shops’  struggle for survival, and the difficulty of preserving historic homes for the future.

Above all, Love Letters is well written. Romantic fiction has a bad name, and ‘serious’ bibliophiles are usually very dismissive of the genre, so all I can say is read Katie Fforde and see if she changes your mind ... please!