The Chalet School and Richenda (by Elinor M Brent-Dyer)

(Amazon UK link)

The last time I read ‘The Chalet School and Richenda’ by Elinor M Brent-Dyer was at the end of 2015. At the time, I had the Armada paperback version, and said that I wasn’t going to look out for a full one. I’m not sure why, since the official guide states that there are ‘very major cuts’ in the abridged version. 

However, in the intervening decade, I have acquired a ‘Girls Gone By’ full edition; I don’t recall how. Perhaps my Armada was starting to fall to pieces, or perhaps I was offered a used GGBP version at a good price from a Chalet School Facebook group. But it seemed to be new when I picked it up to read a few days ago. I finished the previous book, 'The coming of age of the Chalet School' early in July, and then was travelling for most of August. 'Richenda'... is the 40th book in the original series. 

Richenda is an interesting character. She’s fifteen at the start of the book, though treated by her father (and her old Nanny) as if she were rather younger. Her father is rather old-school; he was widowed when Richenda was a toddler, and she hasn’t had much to do with him. He’s a collector of antique ceramics, in particular Chinese ones, and has a room where Richenda is not allowed to go unaccompanied. But she, too, has a passion for these ceramics, and can’t resist the temptation to go in and handle them.

So her father decides, as a punishment, to send her to the Chalet School in Switzerland. She’s devastated at leaving her friends and her current school, although she acknowledges that she’s not learning much there. Her father has no idea how to treat her, and no interest in understanding why she keeps going into his special room. He tells her she won’t be home until Christmas, and that he hopes her attitude improves by then.

But Richenda is basically a likeable girl. She travels to the school with a very negative attitude, but she gradually realises that the girls are friendly, the environment is beautiful, and the teaching is excellent. So she decides, perversely, to enjoy herself to get back at her father. She sends long letters to Nanny and to her best friend, but only terse notes to her father. And she works hard at her lessons, particularly French and German, so that she can stay in the form where she is placed, with the girls whom she is beginning to like.

While I don’t remember much from the last time I read the book, I can see how easily the full edition could have been abridged without losing much. There are quite a few somewhat long-winded, pseudo-moralising sections which I expect were removed. And apparently a whole chapter about a half-term expedition was missing in the Armada. I usually skim details of educational expeditions for Chalet School girls, but I quite enjoyed reading the one in this book. Richenda’s half-term is spent with the Maynard family, rather than with the school. 

There are other side stories, as ever with these books. In particular, there’s a lot of concern for Joey Maynard, who has been having some nasty bilious attacks. The eventual diagnosis is somewhat bizarre - Brent-Dyer was very vague and possibly somewhat ignorant about medical conditions. And she doesn’t even mention the fact that having nine children in fifteen years would put a serious toll on anyone’s body, even if, as with Joey, that included triplets, and one set of twins.

I liked the way we got to see the Chalet School through fresh and artistic eyes. I also liked the way Richenda’s personality is explored. She’s quite a thinker, but not ready to consider her father’s point of view until it’s pointed out to her. And I appreciated the way it became clearer that while Joey and Jack expect ‘obedience’ from their younger children, they’re always willing to explain their reasons. They also listen, and hug their children a lot, and spend time playing games and going places with them. Richenda’s father is portrayed as a rigid man, but not a deliberately cruel one. And when something shocking happens in the second part of the book, he realises just what his daughter means to him. 

I’m very pleased that I managed to acquire this book in the full edition, and already look forward to rereading it in another decade or so. Unfortunately the GGBP edition is not currently in print, and the used hardbacks tend to be extremely highly priced. If you can't find a full edition, the abridged Armada is still probably worth having, if you are a fan of this author and don't have it.  

Review copyright 2025 Sue's Book Reviews

Walking the walk (by Heather Hunt)

(Amazon UK link)

When I first had my Kindle, I regularly downloaded books that were offered free for a short period. I tended to have a quick glance at the blurb, as I was interested to try out authors or genres I would not normally read. One of these was ‘Walking the walk’ by Heather Hunt, which has been on my Kindle since August 2012. I chose it at random as something non-fiction with a Christian slant to read over the past few weeks while I was travelling. Apparently there are other writers with the same name; the author of this book, who has also written some 'inspirational romance' novels, is based in the United States.

I really wanted to like the book. It focuses on six different women from the Bible, some better-known than others. It promises a study of each character with what the author calls her ‘DARE’ method, and applications to modern life. It seemed like a good idea, even if I was a tad put off by the author describing herself as a ‘faith fashionista’ - I have no interest at all in fashion or expensive clothes. But I liked the idea of a ‘guide to godly friendship’, as the book’s subtitle suggests.

The introduction to the book starts well. It outlines the importance of true friendship: of supporting and listening to each other. I was a tad irritated by incorrect use of the word ‘literally’, when talking about walking a mile in a friend’s shoes, but nowadays ‘literally’ is often used metaphorically. And I could see what was meant. 

There are some punctuation errors, too - the book does not seem to have been proof-read, and perhaps was self-published, since it’s only available in Kindle form. However, I thought the content of the introduction quite positive and encouraging, if long-winded, and looked forward to reading the rest of the book. I didn’t plan to take six weeks over it, as suggested, but to dip into it now and again, in odd moments. 

Rahab is the first biblical woman to be considered. The author talks about examining our own lives, including looking in a mirror. I was surprised by the implication that the author is a smoker, and that she has spent a lot of money on cosmetic surgery - even more that she implies that these things are normal. And I didn't understand why she seems to think we would all feel pain on looking at our reflections, rather than (as seems normal to me) a simple acceptance of who we are, with our familiar flaws.

The book then quotes the entire story of Rahab as found in the book of Joshua - nearly two complete chapters - in the King James version. I know the story well, so I skimmed that, then discovered that the ‘DARE’ method of ‘study’ is basically simple comprehension questions. So I ignored those. 

The ‘life application’ section gives some practical and positive advice about not dwelling on the past, but remembering that God has forgiven us. However, it didn’t seem to have anything much to do with the story of Rahab. Yes, she had courage and she cared, so she rescued the Israelites, and ended up being one of the ancestors of Jesus. But Heather Hunt says that Rahab was repentant, assuming that’s what was meant by her ‘melted heart’. However, there is no evidence in Scripture that she changed her promiscuous lifestyle. And unfortunately, the ‘life application’ section becomes repetitive and wordy, with too many exclamation marks. 

The second section looks at Orpah, the second daughter-in-law of Naomi in the biblical book of Ruth. Orpah is often forgotten, as she goes back to her family in the first chapter. The introduction to this section of the book talks about childish friendships, and how they are a lot simpler than friendships in adulthood. We need wisdom, sometimes, and insight, and plenty of diplomacy if friends have difficult dilemmas or awkward questions. 

Then there’s another longish quoted KJV passage, from the book of Ruth, with more basic questions at the end, which I skipped over. And the ‘life application’ is quite confused: the implication is that Orpah was on the wrong path when she returned to her family, rather than continuing with her in-laws. Yet we don’t know that. 

Orpah wanted to stay with Naomi and Ruth, but was persuaded by her mother-in-law to return to her family. She listened to someone she respected, and did what she was strongly advised to do.  We know that Ruth went on to marry a relative, and was also in the ancestry of Jesus. But we have no idea what happened to Orpah, nor do we know that her path was the wrong one. 

I did finish the book, eventually, though the actual parts I read were minimal - just the introductions and the ‘life application’ ideas. All the women and their stories are familiar to me: the others covered are Deborah, Esther, Hannah and Tabitha. The comprehension questions seemed pointless, and while the ‘life applications' do contain some useful and relevant points, they’re long-winded and mostly have little to do (in my view) with the women whose lives are being discussed.

I don’t like being so negative about a book that evidently has a positive aim. It's a good idea to have a book about six lesser-known biblical women, and perhaps it would make a good introduction to them for anyone who doesn't know much about them. It does also make some points that might be useful to people who feel that their current friendships are superficial, or one-sided. 

But it’s not a book I would recommend, nor one I’m likely to read again. It’s no longer free for the Kindle. 

Review copyright 2025 Sue's Book Reviews

Snowdrift and other stories (by Georgette Heyer)

(Amazon UK link)

For nearly four decades I have been an avid reader (and re-reader) of Georgette Heyer’s historical novels. So I was very pleased when I spotted what seemed like a new publication, ‘Snowdrift’, which said that it contained some recently discovered short stories. It was on special offer at 99p for the Kindle towards the end of last year, so I downloaded it. I only tend to use my Kindle extensively when I’m travelling, so I didn’t start reading it until I was at the airport a few days ago, and continued on a four-hour flight. 

I hadn’t remembered that the blurb states that there are just three newly discovered stories, and that the rest of the contents is the previously-published short stories from the volume ‘Pistols for two’. The introduction explains this. I last read ‘Pistols for two’ in September 2025, but decided to go ahead and reread anyway. I was looking forward to the extra three stories at the end.

I found that although I recalled the outcomes of most of the stories in the book (many of them similar), I had forgotten most of the characters and detail. So, rather than skimming, I became quite absorbed in the different stories. Georgette Heyer was very skilled in creating believable, likeable people with, sometimes, quite clever plots. Her attention to detail means that everything she wrote feels authentic to the Regency era, including details of dress, food, transportation and more. Sometimes she uses slang or cant phrases of the era, which are may be difficult to understand. But any time I’ve looked up words or phrases, it’s clear that she has used them correctly and appropriately. 

The first one in this collection, ‘Snowdrift’ (which is one of the last stories in ‘Pistols for two’) features a coach overturned in some snow. A young woman is very worried, all the more so when it’s clear that her maid is injured. She’s on her way to something of importance, and wants to be there before her obnoxious cousin.  She’s rescued by a bored nobleman… who, inevitably, finds her captivating.

It’s a fairly common theme in Heyer’s books, but she does it so well with such likeable and intelligent characters that I don’t mind how many times I read the same basic plot. Her novels - and short stories - are full of wealthy men who are finding life tedious. Some have almost nothing to do other than live lives of dissipation; some are being hassled to choose a wife from the current beautiful but unintelligent or grasping debutantes. 

The story ‘Pistols for two’ is a bit different, in that it features two young men who have been close friends all through their childhood. Then they fall in love with the same woman, and their friendly rivalry turns into bitter enmity. An accidental bump at a party leads one to call the other out, and they are determined to fight a duel with pistols at dawn. I love Heyer’s indirect ironical writing as she explains what triggered this… 

The other story that stands out in my mind is ‘Night at the inn’. The first time I read this, I found it very tense and quite disturbing. This time I recalled what was coming and was able to appreciate the cleverness of the plot, even if some of the description towards the end is macabre in the extreme. I’m glad the author didn’t make a practice of writing this kind of story; it’s not one I would normally choose to read.

The three stories added to the collection are at the end of the book. Apparently they were some of Heyer’s earliest writing, found in magazines. Even at a young age she was a skilled writer, with an excellent use of language and ironic low-key humour. 

The first of the three ‘new’ stories is called ‘Pursuit’. It features a rather irritable earl who is driving his curricle accompanied by a governess. The earl’s ward has eloped with a young man in the army, and he wants to catch them and put a stop to the proposed marriage. While the outcome is predictable, there are unexpected twists and turns that made this a very enjoyable story.

The second also features a young couple who eloping, although neither of them seems all that keen on the idea. Apparently the heroine is expected to marry someone elderly and she is determined not to do so. Then their coach is overtaken by another one, and they hear someone they don’t know asking for a young couple…

The final story features yet another bored Earl, on his way to Bath although he really doesn’t know why he should. He comes across a broken-down carriage with a young man who is desperate to get to Bath as soon as possible, and they strike up a rather unequal friendship. I guessed from the outset what was going on, as there were plenty of Heyer-like clues, but it’s still a nicely-done story.

All in all, I’m very glad I re-read the stories I have enjoyed before, and that - at last - I have read the more recently discovered ones.  Definitely recommended if you like Heyer’s writing, or perhaps as an introduction to her work for someone unwilling to try a full novel. 

The Kindle version is not currently on special offer, so the link above is to the paperback edition of this book. 

Review copyright 2025 Sue's Book Reviews

The second chance book club (by Stephanie Butland)

(Amazon UK link)

I’ve very much liked the books I’ve read by Stephanie Butland. So when I saw her novel ‘Second chance book club’ on special offer for the Kindle, it was an easy decision to download it. I decided to read it while travelling recently, and finished it at the airport, while waiting for my flight.

The main character in the book is a young woman in her early thirties called September. At the start of the story, she’s living in a flat with her boyfriend Shaun. He’s a laid-back kind of person who doesn’t seem to care when there’s no money for things they want. Worse, he tends to spend money they don't have, in the hope of eventually making it back, and has made some purchases that have irritated September.

Shaun is a creative thinker and while he has some jobs now and then, there’s nothing full-time. So September works every hour she can at the supermarket where she’s employed. She doesn’t particularly like her job, but she sees no way out of the debt spiral which sees their credit cards charging more and more interest every month. She can’t quite understand where all the money goes, but utilities and groceries are expensive, as is the rent.

Then, out of the blue, she receives a letter from a solicitor, which changes her life. And it’s cleverly written, so that this isn’t - for the reader - a ‘deus ex machina’ device, but something we’re aware is going to happen from the start. There is a brief prologue telling us the contents of one of the letters, and there are also some intriguing flashbacks. 

In particular, we see someone known as Aunt Lucia visiting her niece April who is besotted with newborn September. Lucia recalls that April’s mother had a hard time after giving birth, and think it’s perhaps a good thing that April’s parents are not visiting at this stage. It doesn’t become clear why this is the case until later in the book. 

It’s also puzzling to learn that September was adopted at around fifteen months old after being abandoned. Her adoptive parents were wonderful, giving her a good life and plenty of positive experiences. They both died a few years before the main story begins, and she misses them. She also feels very alone in the world; nobody seems to know anything about her birth, and she assumes she has no living relatives.

Then the letter arrives, and September learns something so astonishing that she can hardly believe it. It’s a classic ‘Cinderella’ moment, except that September is an adult, and her childhood was basically very happy. So when she learns that a great aunt died, she doesn’t grieve, at least at first, although she is very surprised to find that she had some blood relatives, and sad that she never met her. 

The novel follows September’s movements and decisions as she comes to terms with what has happened, and gradually makes some decisions. Not that she’s a very decisive person; she tends to let things happen around her, and give everyone the benefit of the doubt. Despite increasing concerns about her life with Shaun, she loves him and wants him to be involved in her changing circumstances. At least, she does until she discovers the extent of their debts, and that he has been lying to her…

I found a lot of the story very moving and could empathise with September as she uncovers documents and letters relating to her past. The author uses flashbacks to show snippets of what went before. So we learn, alongside September, what happened to her parents, and how she ended up abandoned at a hospital. It made me realise again how small decisions and mistakes can make huge differences to how lives turn out. 

As with others by this author, there’s a strong literary theme to this book. September finds gifts of books which her great aunt had wrapped for her for over thirty years. Each is described briefly as she reads them, many of which I knew of (though not all). She also joins the book group which Lucia used to host, and becomes friendly with the diverse members. There’s also a new and quite low-key romance that slowly creeps up on her. It’s a satisfying book, and I particularly appreciated a brief epilogue that tells us an outline of what happens to September and the new friends she has made.

‘Second chance book club’ is a fairly easy read, with nothing particularly tense. It’s quite moving in places, and could perhaps trigger negative emotions for anyone struggling with divisive families. But with that proviso, I would recommend it to anyone wanting a well-written character-based novel. 

Review copyright 2025 Sue's Book Reviews

Bridget Vanderpuff and the baked escape (by Martin Stewart)

(Amazon UK link)

A couple of decades ago, I thoroughly enjoyed reading to my teenage sons: sometimes classics which I loved and which I thought they might not otherwise pick up to read, sometimes new books which we all wanted to read at the same time. I missed this when they eventually left home. So I’m delighted that when I visit my older son and his family, my 11-year-old grandson still wants me to read aloud to him.

Not that I read classics or even new books - it’s rather the other way around. He likes me to read books which he has already read (often multiple times) which he thinks I would enjoy. And while I tend to start with a tad of reluctance, I find myself caught up in the storylines and quite enjoying stories which I would definitely not choose to read myself.

The one I have read over the past couple of weeks is ‘Bridget Vanderpuff and the baked escape’ by Martin Stewart. My grandson told me that this is the first in a series about Bridget Vanderpuff, and that he has read it many times, sometimes just skimming. It opens with quite a traumatic scene: a nine-year-old girl called Bridget, whose main feature seems to be an enormous amount of wiry hair, is using a lock pick to rescue her best friend Tom who is locked up her headmistresses office.

It’s quickly clear that the two are orphans, and that they live in an institution which makes other dreadful fictional orphanages look almost luxurious by comparison. The owner, Miss Acrid, is a caricature of ghastliness. And she has an odd quirk that she disapproves of nouns with irregular plurals. So she talks about ‘childs’ rather than ‘children’; ‘foots’ rather than ‘feet’.  

We don’t actually meet any of the other children, who are all, conveniently (and without any checks or test periods) adopted by families who arrive that day. Bridget is imprisoned by Miss Acrid, so she misses out… and learns that even Tom has been adopted. She’s the only child left, and her only reminder of Tom is a gold ring he gave her. She’s very ingenious, and has somehow managed to acquire a multitude of tools, which she keeps in her hair. And she has a skirt that turns into a kind of parachute when needed… there’s no indication of where these things came from, or why Miss Acrid has not confiscated them. 

Just as Bridget is almost lost in despair, she hears another man arrive, and ask for her by name. Miss Acrid denies that she’s ever had anyone called Bridget Baxter, and persuades the man to leave… and Bridget manages to get into his car, and finally escape. 

Mr Vanderpuff is the baker in a lovely little village not far from the school. He has a wonderful shop of cakes and pastries, and Bridget is given a very comfortable room, although the quilt is rather bizarre. And she meets an elf called Pascal whom most people can’t see. Mr Vanderpuff tries to teach her some basic cooking and baking skills, but everything she tries becomes a disaster - not just flat or hard, but transforming into annoying or dangerous items. She becomes very stressed; up to this point she has managed to succeed in everything she tries. So she thinks he might send her back…

That’s the outline of the first section of the story, which is written in a fast-paced, somewhat ironic style with clever footnotes and some humour. My grandson found it funny, anyway. Bridget’s attempts at baking are quite amusing in their weirdness - much of the story is quite surreal, even though set in a mostly real world. I was reminded, more than once, of Roald Dahl’s ‘Matilda’. Miss Acrid and Miss Trunchbull are two of a kind. But the story isn’t as engaging as Dahl’s books; I never felt any real empathy for Bridget or anyone else in the book. And when I glanced at others in the series, I had no interest in reading any of them.

Still, it’s well-written with plenty of plot, and evidently appeals to at least some children in the 10-12 age group for which it’s intended. There’s nothing inappropriate in the book (other than the lack of any checking out of potential fostering/adoptive families!) and the tension and violence are mostly there for humorous reasons rather than being really scary.

So while it’s not one I’m likely to read again, I would recommend it to anyone of about nine and upwards who likes quirky adventure books. 

Review copyright 2025 Sue's Book Reviews

Imitation of love (by Sally Quilford)

(Amazon UK link)

It has become something of a tradition that I read one of Sally Quilford’s novellas on my Kindle each time I travel to the UK. They’re usually light-weight but well-written, with interesting plots. This year I decided to read ‘Imitation of love’, which, I quickly discovered, is historical fiction. Apparently I downloaded it nearly twelve years ago, when it was offered free on Amazon. 

The main character is a strong-minded independent young woman called Catherine, and most of the story is told from her point of view. She is very close to her brother James, and they have a younger sister, Alyssa, who’s rather more frivolous. The book is set at some unspecified date around the French revolution, and it’s clear from the start that James and Catherine are involved in forging documents that enable people to escape.

Most of their work is done for a legendary, unknown character known as ‘The Captain’, who pays James well for the documents he receives. James sometimes travels with him, and his earnings just about support him and his sisters. They have recently lost their father, so James owns the family home. But Alyssa longs for nice clothes, and a ‘season’ where she might find a husband. She’s very beautiful and would like to marry someone wealthy enough that she could have some of the luxuries currently denied to her. 

James would also like more disposable income, so that he can attend parties and other gatherings hosted by his wealthy friend Mr Oakley. We learn in the first chapter that Mr Oakley is also ‘The Captain’, but Catherine has no idea. She idolises the Captain, as many women do, but rather despises Mr Oakley. And Mr Oakley, it’s clear, is equally dismissive of women in general, believing that they are shallow, mercenary and unable to keep secrets. 

In the hope of some extra money, James takes on another commission which he hopes will pay well. And then tragedy happens, unexpectedly, forcing Catherine and Alyssa to leave their home. Mr Oakley was asked by James to look after his sisters if anything happened to him, so they go to stay at his home, chaperoned by his aunt. 

There’s quite a lot that happens in this short novel, and I found myself drawn in very quickly. Sally Quiford has a gift of characterisation, and I found Catherine a likeable and sympathetic character. Mr Oakley seems rather an enigma - sometimes kind and generous, sometimes abrupt and distant. He has a reputation for being something of a womaniser and Catherine has heard anecdotes that imply that he is not to be trusted.

But as she gets to know him, and hear his side of the story, she realises that he’s honourable and courageous. And, inevitably, she starts to fall for him. Alyssa, meanwhile, loves her new wardrobe and meeting people in society, but instead of finding a rich husband, she starts to fall for Mr Oakley’s impecunious friend Mr Harrington…

In such a short book, there’s little time for subplots or the kind of ironic humour that characterises my favourite historical fiction of this era. But it’s still quite a gripping book, with several of the plot elements that feature in some of Georgette Heyer’s novels. I’m  not sure that the style or conversation is entirely authentic for the era, but it reads well on the whole, and there wasn’t anything that jarred when I read it.

Once I was about a third of the way through, I became quite engrossed in the storyline and found it difficult to put down. The ending is predictable, but nicely done after a dramatic climax and a few tense pages where it’s not clear what is going to happen. 

All in all, I enjoyed ‘Imitation of love’, and would recommend it to anyone wanting a quick light read, and who likes this kind of historical fiction set mainly amongst the upper and upper middle classes. Only available, as far as I know, in Kindle form. It's no longer free, but very inexpensive. 

Review copyright 2025 Sue's Book Reviews

The burnout (by Sophia Kinsella)

(Amazon UK link)

After finishing a gripping but disturbing book allocated by our local reading group, I wanted something light-weight for the next few days. So I decided to read ‘The burnout’ by Sophie Kinsella. I like this author’s writing, on the whole. Her novels often feature a somewhat naive heroine, and a flawed but likeable hero. The pace is usually good, with some ironic humour.

I was not disappointed. Sasha is the main character, and she narrates the book. She works in a marketing company but is completely overwhelmed. She’s behind on her emails, she has people asking questions on all sides, and someone trying to make her join in extra activities to increase her happiness. She isn’t sleeping well, her flat is in a mess, and she buys the same fast food every night as she can’t face cooking or making any decisions.

She tries to get help in her workplace, but the boss is impossible to contact, and his brother seems to brush off any suggestions. People leave regularly but are not replaced, and Sasha takes on more and more of the workload. She is very tired, she never goes anywhere other than the office, and she’s even lost her libido. 

Then something happens that is a catalyst for her running out of the office. She considers trying to join a convent (although she isn’t a Catholic), and then she has an accident, which lands her briefly in hospital. She is diagnosed with burnout and given three weeks off. So, at the suggestion of her mother, she goes to stay at a hotel in a beach resort where her family used to go each year, until her father died…

Most of the story takes place when Sasha is on holiday. She’s a typical Kinsella heroine - not naive, exactly, but somewhat tunnel-visioned, and oriented towards lists and other people’s expectations. She has an app on her phone which, in theory, gives her 20 steps towards healing and wholeness. What she doesn’t expect is that her mother has phoned the hotel, pretending to be her PA, and ordering health foods such as kale smoothies. And she finds herself entirely unable to contradict these requests. 

Then there’s Finn, the only other resident at the hotel at first. He seems to be everything that Sasha despises: he’s abrupt and irritable, and even upset a young toddler on the train. While she is forced to eat melons for breakfast, he feasts on bacon and eggs with black coffee. She feels as if he’s invading her space as they both try to relax on the beach, and their first few encounters are far from friendly.

It was inevitable that they would gradually thaw, and discover things in common. It was also inevitable that they would eventually get together romantically. But while the outcome is predictable, the journey is not - and it includes some low-key humour as misunderstandings arise. I was also mildly amused at Sasha’s craving for junk food after just a couple of days of fruit and vegetables, only to discover that word had got around about her supposed health requirements. 

It’s chicklit, of course; the plot reminiscent of the lightweight Mills and Boon novels I read as a young adult. Sophie Kinsella avoids bad language, and closes the door on bedroom scenes, for which I am thankful. She also includes a significant subplot related to surfing, which I appreciated for it's many metaphors. However there’s quite a lot of discussion about Sasha’s libido, and various partners, so it’s not a book for children. 

Overall it fulfilled my wishes for a light read with some low-key humour. Some of the exchanges between Sasha and Finn are quite amusing, and there’s a kind of ironic humour to Sasha’s inability to think outside the boxes that others have constructed for her benefit. It also covers the quite serious issue of office burnout, and how to approach the problem if it happens. 

It’s not my favourite of Sophie Kinsella’s books, but if you’re a fan of her writing, or want something light-weight and well-written (albeit with some very caricatured minor characters), then this is a good choice in my opinion.

Review copyright 2025 Sue's Book Reviews

The unspeakable acts of Zina Pavlou (by Eleni Kyriacou)

(Amazon UK link)

I didn’t know anything about Eleni Kyriacou, except that she is a British Cypriot. And I definitely would not have picked up her book ‘The unspeakable acts of Zina Pavlou’ under normal circumstances. But it was allocated for the August novel in our local reading group, so I downloaded it for my Kindle a few months ago when it was on special offer. 

I knew that this novel was based on a true and rather horrific story. Apparently, back in the 1950s, a Cypriot grandmother visiting her family in the UK was accused of murdering her daughter-in-law. She was found guilty, and was one of the last people to be hanged in the UK. It didn’t sound to me like the basis for an enjoyable or relaxing novel. I wasn’t planning to read it, since I was out of the country for most of August, and was going to miss the relevant meeting. But I saw it on my Kindle a few days before the meeting was scheduled, so decided I would at least read the first few chapters…

The two main characters are Zina, whose story is based on that of the guilty grandmother, and Eve, who acts as her interpreter. Zena has just arrived in the UK as the story start; it iis mainly set in the 1950s. Her son Michaelis moved away from Cyprus many years earlier, and she has longed to join him. She wants to make a new life for herself in England, to find a job and become independent. He finally invites her to stay, and sends her a ticket. 

Zina is not happy that her son married a German woman, Heda, but she wants to like her for her son’s sake. She also wants to meet her grandchildren, eight-year-old Anna and baby Georgie. And while Anna develops an immediate rapport with her grandmother, Georgie is kept away from her, as if they don’t trust her. 

But the book actually opens with Eve meeting Zina in prison. Zina has been arrested for having committed a terrible crime, something which she denies. Zina speaks almost no English, and Eve, who already works at another job, has been asked to be the official translator. She’ll be paid well, and the money will come in useful. Eve is married to a very nice man called Jimmy, but they are going through a rough patch. This is mainly because she had a traumatic miscarriage, and they have not been able to talk about it.

So there are multiple threads to this very well-written novel. Eve, I understand, is entirely fictional, as is her story. The plot involving Zina and the accusations and crime are, as far as possible, based on what really happened. But names are changed, and her son and his family are invented characters, although some of the incidents and scenes with the son did happen in reality.

It’s written from the two points of view - Zina’s and Eve’s - and also from more than one time-line. There’s the main story moving forward as Eve gets to know Zina, and we see the court procedures and eventual sentencing. And there’s also the back story, as Zina arrives in the UK and settles in. There are also some longer flashbacks to Zina’s teenage and young adult years, as other traumatic events transpire.

I liked Eve very much, though she didn’t seem to appreciate her husband enough. But I wasn’t sure what to make of Zina. She’s an extremely complicated character. She has suffered a lot, as becomes clear: she was married at fourteen to an abusive, adulterous and controlling man, and forced to do some terrible things. She had five children, and worked extremely hard to bring them up. Like many Cypriot women of the era, she works continually, cooking and cleaning and dealing with household issues. 

However she does not seem to have any real social skills. She doesn’t like the way her grandchildren are being brought up, and tries to interfere. She criticises and  questions, and generally makes herself a nuisance to her daughter-in-law. She is shocked that her son has abandoned Greek Orthodoxy, and tries to introduce candles and ikons into the house, something which Hedy finds quite disturbing.

As the evidence against Zina piles up, I assumed she was going to be found guilty, since that was the original real-life story; but I had no idea whether it was going to transpire that she actually committed the terrible crime, or whether she had been framed. She continually insists that she is innocent, and that everyone else is lying. 

I wouldn’t say I ‘enjoyed’ the book, exactly. But once I had started it became almost impossible to put down. The pace is good, the characters believable (for the era), and the plot so well crafted that tension rises almost imperceptibly as the back story sections move towards the sentencing. There are one or two places where the story drags a little - mostly descriptions of Eve’s situation as she works, and the people she sees. But for most of the novel, I was gripped.

So I’m glad it was chosen for the book group, and that I did make the time to read it. It’s very unlikely that I will read it again, but I expect the story will remain in my mind for some time. If you want something a bit different from the norm, and don't find the subject matter too distressing, I would recommend this book highly.

Review copyright 2025 Sue's Book Reviews

Ellie and the harpmaker (by Hazel Prior)

(Amazon UK link)

I met Hazel Prior briefly, over ten years ago, at an annual writing conference which we were both attending for the first time. I haven't been back, and my writing has mainly been limited to blogging in the past decade. But she has published several novels. When I saw some of them available inexpensively for the Kindle, I bought them, and decided to read one of them on recent travels.

I had thought, based on the cover, that ‘Ellie and the Harpmaker’ would be a children’s book. But it was clear, early in the story, that I was mistaken. While it’s suitable for adults or teens - as far as I recall, there’s no bad language, and nothing explicit - it’s a book about adults, a growing friendship and a budding romance. 

It’s also about a quirky harpmaker called Dan. The chapters are told alternately from his point of view, and Ellie’s. It works extremely well. Dan is evidently on the autistic spectrum. He describes minutely what he does, he counts everything compulsively, and he explains that he has learned correct responses in some social situations. He lives on sandwiches, he makes coffee for its aroma and then pours it down the sink. He is somewhat hopeless with finances. And he is a brilliantly gifted maker of harps. 

Ellie is an interesting character, too. She is married to Clive, whom she loves very much. But it’s rather an unbalanced marriage. He makes a lot of money in his work, and travels a fair bit, while she is a full-time housewife. She’s happy to do this, and she also drives around and visits friends. But she sometimes feels that something is lacking. There are hints that Clive drinks too much and then becomes aggressive, possibly violent. He’s also rather controlling. But Ellie relies on him and loves doing things for him. She is apparently blind to his failings. 

Dan has a sister who has made him a website, and who deals with harp orders, ensuring payments are made on time, and ensuring his work is widely known. But Dan would really rather give his harps away. And that’s what happens in the first chapter of the book: Ellie happens to find Dan’s studio, and is intrigued by him, and by his harps. He makes her some sandwiches, and then wants to give her a harp. She tries to refuse; she has no idea how to play it. But she mentions that she had made a list of things to do before she turns forty, and that harp-playing is one of them. 

It’s an unusual and interesting start to a book which I enjoyed very much. The main characters are well-developed, even though some of the minor ones are a bit caricatured. Dan in particular is sympathetically drawn in his unusual, often naive, always well-meaning personality. He has a girlfriend whom he mentions to Ellie, and she talks about her husband. But Clive does not want her to have a harp. Gradually she moves away from him emotionally as she starts to take harp lessons, but doesn’t tell him what she is doing.

There’s another whole subplot too, involving Dan’s girlfriend. I could see where that was going, and guessed some of the situation quite quickly. But it was nicely handled, and I loved the way Dan dealt with what transpired. 

There’s a dramatic climax to the book, and an encouraging ending. I wasn’t surprised by the outcome, but had no idea how it was going to come about. It was perhaps a tad too quickly ended - I’d like to have seen a bit more of what was going to happen - but I suppose it’s better to leave the reader wanting more than to drag on too much.

Apparently Hazel Prior is herself a talented harpist, which is why the details about harps and harp-playing feel authentic rather than researched. 

All in all, I enjoyed this book very much and look forward to reading others by the same author. Recommended if you would like something rather different from most women's fiction. 

Review copyright 2025 Sue's Book Reviews