
I thought I'd read everything by PD James, but not so. I saw this reviewed somewhere recently - can't at all remember where - and knew I had to read it sharpish. It is a truly amazing novel, probably James's best, and that's saying something.
This is not a murder mystery or a detective story; it's essentially a psychological thriller of a particularly subtle and sophisticated kind. It's the story of young Philippa Palfrey who, at just eighteen, has decided to take the now legal opportunity of tracing her birth parents. Adopted as a child by wealthy, suave sociologist Maurice Palfrey and his anxious, ineffectual wife Hilda, she has created an idyllic fantasy about her birth parents, believing herself to be the child of a lady's maid and a young, handsome aristocrat. Her upbringing has been impeccable, she's clever and headed for Cambridge, but she wants to spend the summer exploring her roots.
The first shock comes when she sees her original birth certificate and discovers her parents were a married couple, the Ductons. A bit of detective work on her part soon uncovers the whole truth: her father Martin, a humble clerk, was convicted of the rape of a child, and died in prison, while her mother Mary has been serving ten years for the girl's murder. When Philippa discovers that Mary has been moved to an open prison and is due for release very soon, she makes a massive decision. She has a little money, and she will spend it on renting a quiet flat in a distant area of London and spend the two months before university getting to know her birth mother.
Much of the story is devoted to the relationship between these two women. To Phillippa's surprise, they think they are fairly similar in many ways. Mary is cool, and not given to displays of emotion. She doesn't talk about the past, though she does eventually hand Phillippa something she says she wrote in prison, an account of what happened on the night of the child's death. The two of them become good, though not intimate, friends. They read books, go to galleries, scour the local junk shops for attractive inexpensive finds to cheer up their simple, basic flat. Soon they get a job, working together every evening in a fish and chip shop. Phillippa is pleased with the experiment, but has no contact with her adoptive parents, though she gives them her address in case of emergencies.
While all this is going on, something quite different and disturbing is happening in another part of London. Norman Scase is the father of the girl victim of the Ductons. He and his wife never got over the child's death, and now his wife has died, and he has heard that Mary is out of prison, he decides he must take revenge. He's a sad, plain, unremarkable little man, not lacking in intelligence, but his entire world is overshadowed by his need to avenge himself on 'the murderess', as he calls her to himself. Discovering where Phillippa and her mother are living takes some doing, but a combination of planning, luck, and skill finally reveals their address. Now he becomes a silent, secretive stalker, familiarising himself with their daily routines, planning how to gain access to the flat, arming himself with the means to carry out the inevitable deed.
The narrative swings between the two women's story and that of Norman, with occasional glimpses of what is going on at the Palfreys. Both Maurice and Hilda are missing Phillippa, but it's worse for Hilda, whose life is desperately lonely and empty, apart from one agonising day once a month where she sits on the Juvenile Bench, a job she was persuaded into by Maurice, who, as we discover, actually wants the house to himself for the day so he can entertain his latest very young mistress. It's Hilda's weak, emotional nature that opens a chink in Phillippa's carefully constructed defences and makes way for the denouement.
The last part of the novel, as Norman's plotting is clearly getting him nearer to his goal, is unremittingly tense. A series of unfortunate events has made the flat a bit more accessible, and has caused the two women to decide on a house move. What happens I am obviously not able to tell you, but I will say that I was reading towards the end with huge anxiety, not knowing how things could possibly turn out for everyone. What I can tell you is that there are some considerable surprises, not least the ones in an epilogue which ties up some loose ends in very satisfactory ways.
So yes, a psychological thriller, but I've rarely if ever read one so beautifully observed and skilfully executed. In its mode it reminded me more of Ruth Rendell, or rather Barbara Vine, than of James, who is closely associated with the detective genre. In fact this one, written in 1980, halfway through her 14 Adam Dalgleish novels, is pretty much a one-off. If you've never read it, I strongly suggest you do so soon.