Random Jottings

Talking to the Sharks - Martin O'Brien

A few years ago I was sent a book by the above author. It was a detective story set in Marseilles and it featured a certain Daniel Jacquot. I read this book, fell in love and then read all the books in the series and became totally hooked. Here is my original review and I have just reread it and still mean every single word.

After reading the entire series so far, and the ending of the last one, knocked me for six, see my review here, I was really wondering how the next one would turn out and what would happen to Gorgeous Daniel (please note for purposes of brevity he will be GD from now on), so when it dropped through my letter box I seized it, abandoned all my plans for the day (housework PAH!) and esconsed myself on sofa with cuppa and started reading. Three hours later I closed up Talking to the Sharks with a huge sense of sadness as it looks as if this might be the last Jacquot. I shall be firing off a very terse email to the author if this is the case.

OK so off we go. Since the events of the last book, five years have passed and whither GD? Well, he is living on a beach in the Caribbean with his two young daughters and has left the Marseilles Judiciare far behind. He wants nothing more to do with that life, his focus has changed, but then out of the blue somebody from his past turns up. An early lover, Boni, has tracked him down. She needs his help.

"And now she was here. But the man she had come for wasn't this man. As tall as Jacquot, but slimmer, older, his hair a ragged, greyish brown fall of sun bleached tatters, his thick curling beard full around his cheeks and almost matted into the hair on his chest. he looked like a beach bum, a Caribbean Crusoe. Dripping wet. Brown as a coconut.

But then as he drew closer she saw his eyes.

Jade green.

And heard his voice.

It's been a while he said"

Well what an entrance. I ask you. Be still my beating heart.

Boni's husband has disappeared and looks as if he has run off with money he has been creaming off the casinos he runs and a young beautiful woman has vanished with him.  She wants GD to find him for her. He refuses. His life is different now he no longer wants to be a policeman.

Then she is found dead. Curled up in bed with slashed wrists. Suicide. And of course, we know and GD knows that it is nothing of the sort, it is murder. Then somebody who claims to be her husband turns up and tells Daniel that he had Boni murdered and her husband and he wants him to track down the mysterious woman who has taken all the money.    And if he does not help, his children will be in danger.

So the scene is set and I must not tell you any more as I want you to go out and get hold of this simply marvellous book and read for yourself.

On and where do the sharks come in? Cue entrance of a Mafia style boss who loves opera and who enjoys chucking his enemies overboard to be scoffed by aforementioned fishes all the while listening to Callas singing Carmen.   Pure grand guignol and pretty scary stuff.

Before I go I simply have to say once more that the visual depictions of sun, sea and food in the Jacquot books is stunning, they have a sensual feel to them that is difficult for me to convey in a review you simply have to read them to appreciate them.

"A line of palmetto either side of the drive, strands of jacaranda and tamarisk, a pair of peacocks trailing their tail plumage.... the houses, a two storied colonial property painted a soft canary yellow, with white shutters on a dozen windows, and a wrap around gingerbread verandah....the ocean glittered beyond it".

This property belongs to a character we meet later in Talking to the Sharks. She is tall and elegant and beautiful:

"her hands were long and slim and elegant with plainly lacquered nails. Handling the car with an air of confidence, she unpinned her black straw hat, tossed it into the back and loosened her bun. As the hair tumbled across her shoulders and she raked it out with her fingers her scent slid across the seat and Jacquot felt the warm fragrant closeness of her"

And her name?

Elaine.......

I LOVE this book

More Crime - catch up

I have spent most of this week either watching cricket or reading crime novels and seem to have got through rather a lot. Weather has been stifling so have stayed indoors in the cool only venturing out in the evening when it is such a nice time to sit in the garden and read. Was out there the other night until nearly 10pm with my Kindle paperwhite and my neighbour's cats sitting with me.

OK so here we go with my various reads.

As you know already I have been reading Robert Barnard. Apart from the ones I am borrowing from the library, most of them are on my Kindle and are published as e books by Endeavour Press who are rapidly becoming a favourite publisher as they are reissuing loads of books I read years ago as a teenager.  The Bodies in the Attic is an intriguing story - man buys house and upstairs in the corner of the attic discovers the bones of a baby left there years before. In fact, it was in the summer when he visited his aunt who lived nearby and he realises he may know whoever committed the crime from among a gang of children he played with all those years ago.    The Corpse at the Haworth Tandoori - again an intriguing slightly menacing story of a young drifter found beaten to death and dumped in the boot of a car at the back of the Tandoori (and yes there was one in Haworth last time I visited...). Seems this young man has been visiting a small commune in the Dales where a famous painter, old and irascible and with strange tastes, is living. Seems other have disappeared too after visiting him....

Not straightforward detective stories - shades of the Barbara Vine books written by Ruth Rendell under this name. Slightly edgy and creepy. I am really enjoying this author.

Another one Goes tonight - Peter Lovesey. This is the latest in the Inspector Diamond series. The author must be in his eighties by now and my fervent wish is for a long and happy life so that he can continue writing these terrific books which are so well plotted and also witty and amusing.   Diamond is called in to investigate  a car crash in which a police car is involved and while he is at the scene discovers an injured man hidden in the undergrowth who nobody has spotted. He calls for help and applies CPR hoping against hope the victim will survive.  This saving of life gives Inspector Diamond an affinity with the accident victim and he is dismayed on investigating his life and his contacts that there are strong indications that the person he saved could be a serial killer. Lots of twists and turns, as per, and I have to say that the ending came as a total surprise.   Great stuff.,

The Secrets of Wishtide - Kate Saunders.  Loved this from page one. We are promised six Victorian detective novels, of which this is the first, published by those lovely peeps at Bloomsbury, 'The Laetitia Rodd Mysteries'. These stories will feature, and I quote 'the razor sharp crime solving widow of an archdeacon, Mrs Laetitia Rodd'. She has a barrister brother, Frederick, who introduces her  to Sir James Calderstone, a wealthy industrialist, who asks Mrs Rodd to investigate the background of  an 'unsuitable' woman his son intends to marry.   So off she goes and, of course, soon discovers that the woman is indeed unsuitable and is lying in her teeth.  She ends up murdered and Sir James' son is accused of killing her.  Well we know he didn't and so does Laetitia but it is up to her to prove it and off she goes.   Really enjoyed this story - it is amusing and charming with an immensely likeable heroine and great fun to read. already looking forward to he next one.

Curious Minds - Janet Evanovich with Phoef Sutton. Seems we are in James Patterson territory here with co-written books which I am not terribly happy with. This is a new series, yet another. Perhaps she has got fed up with Stephanie Plum and others. Half way through and I gave up.  Fairly crappy.

Ended up the week reading Talking to the Sharks by Martin O'Brien. This is the latest Daniel Jacquot book and it is gripping and unputdownable.  I have to admit an interest in this book as one of the characters is an opera lover and I had email correspondence with Martin re the arias he wanted to use and the singers.   I am going to give this a full review all on its own but it is now up on Kindle so do nip over and buy. You know it makes sense....

And after all this death and destruction, I pulled down my battered old copy of An Old Fashioned Girl by Louisa May Alcott the other night and spent a happy two hours re-reading this gorgeous old favourite before I went to bed.

Au Reservoir

What a Week - Random Thoughts

I have just realised that no posting has been up since last Sunday when Andy Murray won Wimbledon in such style and brought us all a welcome relief from the goings on in the world at large. Well, the following week seems to have gone on in much the same way and got no better.

In the UK we have a new Prime Minister and, whether you agree with her politics or not, I am delighted to see another woman in charge and to see the back of the Dave and George show. I was particularly happy to see Osborne sacked - his behaviour during the Referendum campaign was particularly obnoxious, threatening older people with losing their bus passes and saying their pensions were in danger. And before anybody says well the Brexit lot were just as bad, I agree but felt that Osborne was, overall, the nastiest in the whole thing.

I have been glued to the television and online over the last few days watching the comings and goings in and out the door of No.10 and will admit to finding it all totally fascinating and rather exciting. A lot of comment on social media and the usual abuse which I do wonder would be voiced if face to face. I think not.

I was supposed to be away this week on a get fit activity type break in Somerset. In the end and at the last minute I cancelled. I have been dealing with a will, as executor, of an aunt who died before Christmas and it has all been pretty stressful. The sale of the property has now gone through and now the final bills and payments are to be sorted and then it is at an end and I can relax.   Anyway, the last few months have been particularly busy and, as per, I have overdone it. I wish there was a little Slow Down Elaine button that would come on automatically to warn me but my own fault, I should know better by now, but probably never will learn. To cut a long story short, panic attacks and sleepless nights over the last week and at 4 am in the morning I thought, Elaine do you really want a fie hour drive along the A12, M25, M3, A303 etc or would you be better off staying at home? Obvious answer so I cancelled. Highly unlikely I will get any money back but that is my fault.

And in the midst of all this upheaval, I have been watching the Test Match between Pakistan and England and it is shaping up beautifully to be a close finish. England need 283 to win and Cook has just been bowled out for 8 (I should not laugh but I did. those of you who follow my rants know how I feel about him and his behaviour and the sucking up of the press...but I had better stop). Anyway, lovely to see him edge a catch to the wicket keeper and my yell of YES probably heard by my neighbours.

I am currently working my way through the works of Robert Barnard who I have mentioned before here.  He has two characters who appear in many of the books, but many of them are stand alone and are not straightforward detective stores by any means. He has written a huge amount so the standard is variable but I am really enjoying them and they have proved to be a great source of relaxation this week. I have also read a couple of Christies, or re-read and am also rediscovering the historical novels of Rosalind Laker, vie the Kindle, which I used to love as a teenager and find them just as good as I remember.

I will be back in a day or two with a round up of my recent reading but for the rest of the day, it is feet up and watching the cricket which provides an oasis of calm amidst all the awful things in the world at the moment.

Au reservoir.

Arise Sir Andy of Wimbledon

 

So pleased that Andy won Wimbledon again. You need to do it twice to show you are not a one off and a flash in the pan and he has done it. I cannot think of a player who deserves it most, sheer bloody determination and hard work. After the horribleness that has been the UK the last few weeks with bile and vitriol being spewed out on TV and radio and in the newspapers today just lifted the heart.

Arise Sir Andy!

Katherine of Aragon - Alison Weir

In between watching the tennis, ricocheting off the ceiling and shrieking and yelling at Roger/Andy/et al I have managed to read a few books. A couple of Agatha Christies, a couple by Roger Barnard, a crime writer who I am obsessed with at the moment and trying to read the lot but in the end I put them all to one side the other day, sat down on my sofa with a cup of coffee and there I stayed for two hours to finish Katherine of Aragon by Alison Weir which I had started just before the Felixstowe Book Festival at which Alison was a speaker.

I attended a convent school so you can imagine that history was somewhat slanted, particularly the reign of Henry VIII and his role in the dissolution of the monasteries and the breaking away from the Catholic Church. We were also taught that Anne Boleyn was the She Devil, the Scarlet Woman and any other epithet you can imagine and that Henry was an easily beguiled foolish man led astray by an Evil Woman.

Well I was not a total believer in that theory but kept my thoughts to myself as the nuns had already labelled me as a Bold Girl if I queried anything, which I did frequently and for which I nearly got expelled - twice. Looking back now I can genuinely say that these queries were not outrageous in any way but the nuns thought otherwise.

Tudor history has got to be the most fascinating period in British history. Oh I love Georgian and Victorian history, they are easily my favourite eras, but for sheer bloody murder, double dealing and back stabbing this Tudor lot make Michael Gove look like Little Lord Fauntleroy.   I am sure that nearly everyone reading this post has plenty of background knowledge of the King's Great Matter, his infatuation with Anne Boleyn and his efforts to put aside Katherine of Aragon, his first wife so no need for me to go into detail here.

This is a fiction book  and the first in a series of six - one book per wife and I can hardly wait to read the next one and see what Alison makes of Anne Boleyn. In this book, written from Katherine's perspective, she really sounds an absolute cow but anybody who watched Wolf Hall last year will realise that once you are caught in the toils of Henry VIII you have to scheme and wriggle just to make sure your head stays on your shoulders. No trick will be left undone, no maneouvre too outrageous.

Katherine has been accused of being intransigent and stubborn and that if she had given in, gone to a nunnery and be treated well by Henry, her life would have been easier. Well of course it would, but we must remember that Katherine was a daughter of Isabella of Aragon, Spanish royal blood ran through her veins, she was proud and, most of all, her religion was her life and she was not going to betray her mortal soul for anything or anybody. This stubbornness drove Henry to treat her more and more badly. A classic case of a man knowing he is guilty, knowing he is in the wrong and trying to transfer his guilt to the innocent party. She loved him all her life and never gave up hope that he would return to her despite all the evidence to the contrary.

I so enjoyed this book. Immensely readable and I was unable to put it down once I started reading. At the end I found myself with a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes as she dictated a letter to Henry on her deathbed:

"For my part, I do pardon you all, yes I do wish and dearly pray God that He will also pardon you. For the rest, I commend to you Mary, our daughter beseeching you to be a good father to her.......lastly, I vow that my eyes desire you above all things"

A brave and noble woman. I await the author's book on Anne Boleyn and this is going on my list of Books of the Year.

Wimbledon 2016 - Random thoughts

I usually have a rant each year about Wimbledon but this year have not found a great deal to rant about. Irritations yes, but no serious rant. Am I mellowing? Am I getting old? No to the first, yes to the second.

I am watching People's Sunday as I write this. Last time Wimbers had to play on a Sunday was about ten years ago and the weather this week has been so dire that it has been forced upon the organisers again. It is always fun, always entertaining and full of tennis lovers who never have a chance in hell of ever laying their hands on a ticket. OK so maybe this will be a rant after all. If you are a famed sportsman, a banker, a hedge fund manager, a company with a corporate presence or if your name is MIDDLETON then you will have no problem getting in. You will probably end up in the Royal Box fawned and feted. Now I love David Beckham but really do not see why he should end up in one of the best seats at Wimbledon. This year Mrs B was at home, just as well as the last time she was plonked in the Royal Box she sat looking as miserable as sin all afternoon and texting on her phone with the occasional disinterested glance at the poor sods battling below.

I entered the ballot on a regular basis for over twenty years and not once did I get offered a ticket.  Not once. So I gave up. Then a couple of years ago I thought I would have another bash and I did get offered a ticket - on Court 1 on Finals day when all that is on offer is the over 90s men's doubles, the geriatric ladies doubles and the under fives and all of this while hearing the shrieks, yells and shouts from the Centre Court. So I declined. This year, once again, I got nothing.

If you want to go to the US, French and Aussie open you just rock up or go online and buy a ticket. Seemples. So why not Wimbledon?

Right back to the tennis.

We have had the usual Plucky Brits who won a match, briefly shone and then disappeared into the special box reserved for such, leaving Andy Murray alone as per. His bro is in the doubles. When the Murray Bros decide to retire we are back to the dark shadows of the soul with nobody decent to cheer on any more. We had the Wills saga, a Brit ranked 772 in the world who got through six qualifying matches just to be able to play a game at Wimbledon. Well he beat somebody ranked over 700 places ahead of him and the UK press corp went totally potty and he was on the TV and plastered all over the papers and his reward? To play a match with the Fed on the Centre Court who swatted him aside as if he was an annoying fly. Still he seemed a great bloke, not Fed the other one, and enjoyed his moment. He has an extremely glamorous girlfriend, blonde, long hair,  and she is a dentist. BBC camera kept going on her and Andrew Castle in the commentary box said 'Oh wish my dentist looked like that'.  WRONG. The Feminist brigade were down on him like a shot all over Twitter accusing him of sexism and ranting and fuming. My reaction to that was Oh Give Over. Well it wasn't actually. It was Oh for FUCKS sake get a life you miserable collection of humourless females..  

Ok this is definitely a rant.

Back to tennis again. Lots of excellent matches. Del Potro was back one of the nicest men on the planet and he put out Wawrinka. Lost today sadly but hardly surprising as he has had the most awful series of injuries and operations and he was just happy to be here. Everyone loves him.

We have lost Sharapova who of course 'forgot' to tell her team that she was taking a banned substance. Seems she needs to take it to keep her healthy. As this particular drug is purely for those with heart problems this seemed a tad iffy. Nobody has wept many tears over her departure. In fact, she is so universally disliked within the game for her arrogance and coldness that there is a feeling of relief that she is not around any more.  And the bonus of course is that we do not have to listen to that bloody awful banshee shrieking any more.  

BUT we now have Muguruza who won the French Open and was in the final last year. Charming delightful lady with big smile and hugely likeable. BUT and it is a big BUT, she has a shriek to rival Sharapova. Why? Why? Why? So I have had to watch her with the mute on. We still have a few shriekers left or, as in the case of Kvitiva, a dying whinny and of course the Grunt Sisters are still with us.  I just hope and pray that they retire soon and leave us in peace.

Biggest shock is, of course, Djokovic being knocked out. He looked totally out of sorts and disengaged and there have been all sorts of in depth discussions amongst the great and the good and the boring and really, he just had a bad day. It happens.  Lots of sneaky little comments on Twitter about his gluten free diet along the lines of 'Oh Waitrose must have run out of free from' etc the sub text of which is obvious and has been for years and on which I am making no comment at all.

Djoko being out leaves a path clear for El Smuggo and my heart sinks at the thought that he may get through to the final and play, one hopes, Andy. El Smuggo really has disliked Andy for years and I may not be able to watch the final if this pairing works out so deeply do I dislike this man. And yes I know he is wonderful, yes I know his tennis is sublime, yes I know all that and all this crap about him being such a gentleman. HAH! Hates it when he is challenged, hates it when he loses, always disses his opponent if he does lose (Oh I am not well today, that is why he won etc etc) I have yet to hear him pay tribute graciously to somebody who has beaten him.  So fingers crossed that somebody knocks him out in the next day or two.

Commentators are, as usual, afflicted with Verbal Diarrhea, and seem to feel that every single moment of every single match has to be filled with wittering inanities, quite often when the game is actually being played and have incorporated Jim Courier into the team this year, fresh from his non stop yak marathon at the French Open. He is well informed, knows what he is talking about (unlike some) and has a very attractive speaking voice but oh god he never stops. I tweeted the BBC asking them if they would tell him to rein it in a bit and my tweet was immediately favourited and tweeted by a myriad others, so not just me.

Sue Barker remains with the most appalling clothes and hair and yes I know I should not comment on this but I am also quite happy to comment on Tim Henman (brown suit last night, striped brown shirt and tie, Yuk, looked like a giant turd) but really the BBC should increase her dress allowance or, more to the point, get somebody to choose her outfits for her. Pat Cash always looks scruffy and distressingly uncool with one earring dangling from an ear and the rest look beige and normal.

Nearly the end of People's Sunday and Sue B has just said, yet again, how wonderful it has been and all of those on the Centre Court and others have had such a 'treat' and isn't it all marvellous?  I am surprised she is not offering to change their nappies and give them all a dummy for being such good children.

OK so this has clearly turned into a rant. Why did I think for one moment that it wouldn't??

'sigh'

I would like to sign off with my usual 'au reservoir' but have received an email from somebody who follows Random asking me why I always use this awful pun so I pointed out that it was from Mapp and Lucia. It seemed to be irritating.....

Oh to hell with it

Au Reservoir

 

Recently received

Been just a tad busy this last week or so. Holiday in Yorkshire, lovely, drive back, not so lovely and then next day up early and off for the Felixstowe Book Festival which I have already posted about. Great time but come Monday felt cream crackered. Now watching Wimbledon in between rain and thunder and lightening and trying to work out who has stabbed who in the back today in the bun fight that is the Tory leadership contest (I am saying nothing about that, NOTHING as words fail) and so turn my mind to books. And this is what I have to get through, or attempt to get through in the coming weeks.

I have already read the latest Sidney Chambers book by James Runcie and have to admit that I found it a bit of a disappointment, as I found the last title. This one is titled Sidney Chambers and the Dangers of Temptation and it is pleasant and passes an hour or two and that is all I can say really. At least the Sidney of the book is totally different from the self pitying, pouting one of the tv series who seems to spend most of his time in an alcoholic haze and chatting up women. If he was my vicar I would have been on the phone to the Bishop by now.

How to find Love in a Bookshop by Veronica Henry is delightful and I will be reviewing this title for Shiny New Books in their next issue.

The Sinking Admiral, another book discussed at the Bodies in the Library and I threw myself on the mercy of the lovely publishers and they sent me a copy. This is going top of the list.

Jane Austen's England is not a recent publication but it was on my wish list for some time, but a tad expensive and an American publication. So delighted to find a copy in a cut price bookshop while visiting Helmsley while on holiday in Yorkshire and snapped it up straight away.

Katherine of Aragon I am half way through and loving. As I have posted, I had the pleasure of meeting Alison Weir at the book festival and she was lovely and gave a superb talk. 

All the others on the pile I have yet to investigate and as I am also working my way through the detective stories of Robert Barnard on my Kindle and have a pile of stuff on there as well which needs my attention, I am feeling slightly overwhelmed. But then I think you can never have too many books and I am most grateful to all the generous publishers who send me such largess.

At home for the next week so hoping to catch up with all domestic bits and pieces as well - at the moment the washing machine is on for the third time in two days and there will be ironing I am afraid. Throw into the mixture that I am dealing with the sale of a property (I am executor of a will) which is completing next week and I have a lot on my plate at the moment.

BUT BUT BUT my lovely gorgeous elder daughter will be over in six weeks from Sydney and all matters pale into insignificance beside that. Cannot wait to see her and give her a big hug.