I love Dean Street Press for many reasons. Primarily, obviously, because they publish the kind of books I love, reprints of unjustly forgotten writers of the mid to late twentieth century, but also because once they've discovered a writer worth reprinting they go the whole hog and publish everything they've written. Such has been the case with the novels of Anne Morice, who started publishing in 1970 and continued producing a novel a year - and two in some years - until her death in 1989 at the age of seventy-three. So she was a rather late starter, but achieved a great deal, and was much admired by contemporary critics. She was elected to the Detection Club in 1976. The first twenty-three of her novels feature Tessa Crichton, a bright, sparky young actress who finds she has a talent for solving murders. In her final year she turned to a new protagonist, Tubby Wiseman; the second of this new series appeared posthumously in 1990. Morice's books started re-appearing at the beginning of this year, and there are more to come through the rest of 2021.
I'd probably have stumbled on these anyway, as I love a witty mystery, but I had another reason for plunging in with this first of the series - I actually knew the author, whose daughter became a great friend back when we were both 18, and who I've kept in touch with ever since. I was aware that her mother became a novelist in her fifties, but only found out recently that the books had found a new home. If this one's anything to go by, they are going to be full of reminders of places and people she knew, thinly disguised of course but totally recognisable to anyone who knew her. She came from a theatrical family (her sister was Angela Fox, mother of James and Edward, grandmother of Laurence and Emilia) so it's no surprise to find Tessa's acting career is an ongoing theme in the novels.
One damp and cheerless day last July, my cousin, Toby Crichton, telephoned to invite me to spend a few weeks at his house at Roakes Common, and, in doing so, put his finger on what I can only describe as the fatal switch. Possibly, the reason I can only so describe it is that I am writing this saga in the intervals of rehearsing for a Victorian melodrama and the florid prose is rather infectious. Doubtless the style will cool down, as the narrative proceeds, particularly if I am lucky enough to secure a contemporary part, in the course of it.
It turns out that Toby has an ulterior motive for his invitation. His flamboyant wife Matilda (a 'rotten actress' but a surprisingly popular one) is off on tour, and he wants Tessa to keep company with his eleven-year-old daughter Ellen. Having just completed a TV series, Tessa is happy to go; she loves Ellen and Toby and loves the house, which stands on a horseshoe-shaped common in a country village not far from London. It's a little community all its own, and most of the neighbours are very pleasant and friendly. Not so, however, are the nouveau-riche Cornfords, who have bought the manor house. Toby has always defended them when the rest of the neighbours complained about them, but things changed when they were suspected of killing Ellen's beloved dog. Of the two Cornfords, it is Mrs Cornford who is most hated in the community, so naturally enough it is her corpse that turns up shortly after Tessa's arrival. Having just met a totally gorgeous young man who turns out to be the detective assigned to the case, Tessa decides it would be enjoyable, and probably helpful, to do some investigations of her own. She proves to be extremely good at it, and indeed solves the mystery on her own, though not without getting into some danger into the bargain.
There's a great deal to enjoy here. Village life, with all its highs and lows, is always an attractive setting, and seeing it through the eyes of a sophisticated but affectionate Londoner adds a bit of spice. It's a pleasure to meet Toby, a successful playwright who seems to have hit a barren patch - he retires to his study every morning, only reappearing for lunch, but spends his time in there reading, though he claims to be working for a deadline. Ellen is a charming eleven-year-old, clever but not precocious, and very attached to her father, who brought her up on his own after her mother died: her stepmother Matilda seems to be almost permanently on tour, so Toby is still the centre of her life. And then of course there's Tessa herself, and it's her narrative voice that carries the novel: she's honest, bright and witty, and her observations on the life of the village and its inhabitants will prove to be vital in solving what seems to be an insoluble mystery. She has a great turn for a one-liner, as here: 'Sackcloth and ashes would have been overdressing for the mood I had sunk into by then'. Unlike that other great observer of village life Miss Marple, Tessa has her own life and career elsewhere, and her various auditions and engagements add an enjoyably theatrical flavour to the mix. And of course there's her burgeoning romance with the handsome policeman, to whom, I gather, she will be married in the subsequent novels.
I'll be reading more of these so watch this space.
