On the evening that Lydia Cunningham drives to the train station to meet her daughter Thelma, the pretty little coastal town of Milton St Gabriel is sleeping quietly. But Thelma's arrival will shatter the peace forever. She brings with her Edward, a young pick-up with a penchant for arson.
Margaret Yorke was an English crime fiction writer, real name Margaret Beda Nicholson (née Larminie). Margaret Yorke was awarded the 1999 CWA Cartier Diamond Dagger.
Born in Surrey, England, to John and Alison Larminie in 1924, Margaret Yorke (Margaret Beda Nicholson) grew up in Dublin before moving back to England in 1937, where the family settled in Hampshire, although she later lived in a small village in Buckinghamshire.
During World War II she saw service in the Women’s Royal Naval Service as a driver. In 1945, she married, but it was only to last some ten years, although there were two children; a son and daughter. Her childhood interest in literature was re-enforced by five years living close to Stratford-upon-Avon and she also worked variously as a bookseller and as a librarian in two Oxford Colleges, being the first woman ever to work in that of Christ Church.
She was widely travelled and has a particular interest in both Greece and Russia.
Her first novel was published in 1957, but it was not until 1970 that she turned her hand to crime writing. There followed a series of five novels featuring Dr. Patrick Grant, an Oxford Don and amateur sleuth, who shares her own love of Shakespeare. More crime and mystery was to follow, and she wrote some forty three books in all, but the Grant novels were limited to five as, in her own words, ‘authors using a series detective are trapped by their series. It stops some of them from expanding as writers’.
She was proud of the fact that many of her novels were essentially about ordinary people who find themselves in extraordinary situations which may threatening, or simply horrific. It is this facet of her writing that ensures a loyal following amongst readers, who inevitably identify with some of the characters and recognise conflicts that may occur in everyday life. Indeed, Yorke stated that characters were far more important to her than intricate plots and that when writing ‘I don’t manipulate the characters, they manipulate me’.
Critics have noted that she has a ‘marvellous use of language’ and she has frequently been cited as an equal to P.D. James and Ruth Rendell. She was a past chairman of the Crime Writers' Association and in 1999 was awarded the Cartier Diamond Dagger, having already been honoured with the Martin Beck Award from the Swedish Academy of Detection.
There is something special about Margaret Yorke's books and characters. I feel that her books are extra sad because you tend to get to know the character before they do something bad. So, you see that slow downward spiral and sometimes you wish you can stop it, and sometimes you wish you can speed it up because they annoy you so much.
Lydia is not your typical Margaret Yorke elderly lady - she's not vulnerable or likable, she's the type of person who would wait a minute after the time when loud noises should stop to ring the police and complain. But unknown to anyone she has had a horrific marriage, married to a bullying abuser and also known a brief war time affair. When her spoilt daughter Thelma arrives on her doorstep one night with a casual pick up, Lydia's life is going to be turned upside down and she's also going to start reconnecting with her son Gerald who so desperately wants a relationship with his mother but doesn't know how to start. The "pick up" is Edward, a young fellow, who has had some bad luck and is in town to stay with his sister. He's appalled at the way Thelma treats her mother and just people in general and tries to show Lydia a bit of the kindness that she's never known from her nearest and dearest. Then suddenly a voice from her past appears in town and Lydia's world is rocked.... This Yorke was a lot better than I thought it was going to be.
Not my favorite Margaret Yorke novel. The main character, Lidia Cunningham, stirred little sympathy from me, as she seemed so emotionally stifled. Lidia implies that the choices that she made in her life were forced upon her by society. Perhaps this was true, but (without spoiling the plot) the background details provide flimsy motivation for the events that unfold. As always, however, Yorke's style is simple and elegant, and the book is well paced. As I said, not my favorite, but far better than the average psychological suspense novel.
Standard Yorke - very realistic, normal life with a tiny twist that just spirals out of control. She can be extremely unsettling precisely because the world she describes is so recognisably real and unlike a James Bond fantasy or exotic serial killer nightmares you could see such terrible things exploding into your own life. This one takes a strange turn at the end that I didn't like - it didn't ring true for me - & has an unusually happy ending (on the whole!).
A suspense novel as the cover says but it takes a long time for the thriller to take centre stage, till then the story is more of a family drama. The Cunningham's family had been rich and owned properties but the death of Henry Cunningham saw the property being sold and developed into bungalows and hotels. Lydia the widow lived in lodge alone he daughter Thelma comes back to her after a broken relationship with her latest boyfriend in the US. She comes back and on the way befriends Edward who has come out of prison serving 2 years for arson. Lydia takes them in the lodge. Gerald Lydia's son is a banker and comes sometimes during weekends to meet his mother. The drama between these characters continue for major part with no suspense involved. Only past the entry of Arthur Morrison a widower who takes a liking to Thelma enters the plot, the suspense begins. The last few pages are like a decent thriller. Overall good story but nothing great about the plot. Good easy reading for the weekend.
A slow-burn plot concerning family secrets, missed opportunities, regrets, and guilt. Margaret Yorke weaves this tight tale of Lydia Cunningham and her dysfunctional family, with the focus on 'who will do what to whom', as opposed to whodunit. The murder doesn't occur until we'll over three quarters of the way through, and this slow build-up adds a suitable air of menace and tension. Sadly, I don't think any contemporary crime writers have taken over Yorke's role in writing about fractured family relationships with such matter of fact detachment. Well worth seeking out the work of this much underrated and marginalised author.