SISTER by ROSAMUND LUPTON

SISTER

BY ROSAMUND LUPTON

THE BLURB:-

Nothing can break the bond between sisters...

When Beatrice gets a frantic call in the middle of Sunday lunch to say that her younger sister Tess is missing, she boards the first flight home to London. But as she learns about the circumstances surrounding Tess's disappearance, she is stunned to discover how little she actually knows of her sister's life- and unprepared for the terrifying truths she must face.

The police, Beatrice's fiancé and even their mother accept they have lost Tess, but Beatrice refuses to give up on her. So she embarks on a dangerous journey to discover the truth, no matter the cost.

THE REALITY:-

I finished this book nearly a week ago and, although it was a very good read and difficult to put down, especially towards the end, I've already forgotten it and consigned it to my memory bank. That memory had to be provoked to be able to write this review, by sneaking a look at the pages!

I did wonder if I'd be able to relate to this novel, as I've never had a sister (one of many relations I've never had) but no, it was easy to get into and understand. Did I ever want a sister? Hell, yes! I would have loved to have been part of a big family; with an older brother and sister and a younger brother and sister, all of my grandparents alive (and maybe even a great-grandparent too?) and uncles/ aunts/ cousins living nearby. Instead, it was just me, my mother and father and brother. I reckon this isolation caused a lot of our family problems, in particular mine. I know that the relationship with female siblings isn't always easy (I once knew a girl who slept with her sister's man- I mean, REALLY?!) but I would have liked to have had it.

The writer has certainly researched genetic modifying in great detail and I, as with most lay-people, have no idea how much is truth and how much conjecture, but that doesn't matter as the thread of the story is convincing. I like the way that the book is explained in the third person, historically, through Beatrice's 'conversations' with her lawyer, Mr. Wright. There is a twist at the end and I like to think that- spoiler alert!- Beatrice was found by Kasia and lived. The antagonist did, however become obvious to me as we drifted nearer to the finishing line.

The mix of highly convincing characters was good; from predictable and stolid Todd, to adulterous, self-serving Emilio and quite a few hangers-on. The suspense element of the story worked and there was a deep emotional assault on the senses as we got into the depths of Beatrice's life and how her personality developed and changed.  I'm so glad that the latter was driven to refuse the verdict of (another spoiler alert!) suicide with regard to Tess's death- otherwise we wouldn't have had this very stylish, but heartfelt, thriller. On another personal (and maybe daft!) note, I also learnt that Beata is Polish for Beatrice- nice, as I like both names and work with a woman called Beata...

Lovely, but forgettable- that would be my verdict of this work. Having said that, I'd certainly read more by this author. I just wouldn't make it my life's plan to do so.

MISS ELAINEOUS VISITS THE JACK THE RIPPER MUSEUM...

I found out about the Jack The Ripper Museum only a couple of weeks ago, whilst searching for something else online.  Open since 2015, somehow its existence had totally passed me by!

It was a horribly inclement day when my cousin and myself visited.  We also took part (maybe against our better judgement) in the Ripper walk, but this was the only day we had available on which to do it.

There were no overground trains at my end, so I had a 20-25 minute walk, through sleet, to the nearest Tube station.  By the time I arrived at Tower Hill, clutching my trusty A-Z and cursing to myself like a sailor, sleet had turned to snow and I had that annoying London problem of trying to find a street which had no name displayed on it.  Later that day, by the time we did our walk, snow had turned to steady rain and the temperature was -1 degree.

But, before we did the walk, we traversed the museum.  Set over five floors, the idea is that you approach your sleuthing with the intention of working out who Jack the Ripper was.  It's hardly a novel idea, but it sounded appealing.  

The first floor is recreated to look like Mitre Square, where Catherine Eddowes, Jack's second victim, was found, by Police Constable Watkins.  It is very atmospheric, but ghoulish moi was a little disappointed by the lack of blood and guts.  Read on and you will see how my opinion changed throughout our tour...

On the wall, you see a replica of the original, miss-spelt, graffiti that was left at the crime scene.

The second floor shows how Jack the Ripper's sitting room may have looked.  Was he a gentleman?  Many think he may have been, although his crimes were far from 'gentle'-abhorrent would be a better way of describing them.  

Here is his make-believe cabinet.

Here is his desk, with books on anatomy and surgery on display.

Here is his array of torturous-looking medical instruments and poisons.

His mantelpiece, with a drawing by Walter Sickert, who was one of the most major Ripper suspects, hanging above.

Here is a close look at some information regarding Sickert- he was always the man I liked  the most for the position of 'guilty'.  Do I still feel the same?  To be frank, I'd have to look into it a lot more.

A lock of Mary Kelly's hair.  She was his final victim, and what a sad little memento this is.  In this room, there are also letters the police received, pertaining to be from the Ripper.

The killer sent a kidney from one of his victims, along with a sinister note... 

The third floor shows a mock-up of the police station.  I especially loved these original handcuffs, notebook and truncheon.  These are the actual items carried by Police Constable Watkins when he found Catherine Eddowes.  History really came alive for me here!

Chief Inspector Abbeline at his desk.  He led the hunt for the Ripper.

There is so much more to see at the museum- words cannot possibly describe everything, so go and see for yourselves.  Between floors, we get newspaper reports and illustrations of the murders along with locations, and comments regarding the social deprivation of the area during that time.  Here are sketches of these sad, unfortunate ladies.

Up we go to the kind of room Jack's poverty stricken victims would have lived in.  Piped through the speakers is a lady singing the actual song Mary Kelly was heard singing on the day of her death.  It's a joyful song and now, with hindsight, hauntingly poignant.  These women had a LIFE before Jack took it from them.

On the landing, we find a very scabby window.

This lady has tried to make her humble abode look pretty.

We go downstairs, passing the ground floor shop, which has many reasonably priced Ripper and London themed gifts, down to the morgue.  The drawers at the back are for holding cadavers. 

Morgue bench.

On the walls are actual autopsy photos of the women, apart from the photograph of Mary Kelly, which is a crime scene image and is horrific.  She's the victim who had the most damage committed to her corpse, as she was killed in her room, as opposed to on the street, and Jack was able to take his time in mutilating her.  The women all died from having their throats slashed, so would have passed away pretty much instantly (thank the lord for small mercies), with the atrocities to their bodies occurring post-mortem.

You start the tour thinking in terms of discovering who the Ripper was- it's a game with all the players- from the cops to the prostitutes, to the suspects and the witnesses- pieces on a chessboard.

But as you progress the sadness hits home and you realise that the victims were actually real PEOPLE.  In particular, they were WOMEN.  They had heartbeats and likes and dislikes; thoughts, feelings and the capacity to love.  And to hate.  Did they hate their lives?  Or did they just hate parts of them?  Or were they (moderately) content?  Maybe in the depths of depression or up one minute and down the next?  Did gin really take away all of their worries, or did the hangover exacerbate them tenfold?

  We will never know, but we do know that the end to their very un-glamorous lives was just about as squalid as it could be. Oh, and I'd seen enough blood and guts for one day.

We went on the Ripper walk, but bailed out at The Ten Bells, ten minutes from the end, as the weather was just hideous- wet underfoot with a persistent downpour falling from the skies, and my cousin was really suffering from jet lag.  But we enjoyed the tour, saw enough to be satisfied, and I'm planning on returning to do the museum and the walk- just this time when the weather's warmer, lighter and better!

MISS ELAINEOUS VISITS DENNIS SEVERS' HOUSE...

I only learned of this Spitalfields tourist attraction recently, when something popped up on Google.  I can't even remember what I was researching, but I thought that visiting this house would be a good idea.

  Here is the outside of the house.  Above the front door is a gas lamp.  Trust me; neither time or tide nor modernity has touched this place.

  It was one of the weirdest and most unnerving experiences of my life.  Here is their blurb:-

'Its creator was Dennis Severs, an artist who used his visitors’ imaginations as his canvas and who lived in the house in much the same way as its original occupants might have done in the early 18th Century. This he did for his own personal enjoyment as well as for the harvest of an atmosphere, which he then employed to provide the visitor with an extraordinary experience. To enter its door is to pass through a frame into a painting, one with a time and life of its own.

'The game is that you interrupt a family of Huguenot silk weavers named Jervis who, though they can still sometimes be heard, seem always to be just out of sight. As you journey off into a silent search through the ten rooms, each lit by fire and candlelight, you receive a number of stimulations to your senses.

'Visitors begin to do what they might if indeed they had travelled through a frame into a painting: use what they sense to piece together the scene they had missed. Thus, and this was Mr Severs’ intention, what you imagine… is his art.

'Be warned, it is a mistake to trivialise or pigeonhole the experience into any of the mothball camps: “heritage”, “local history”, “antiques”, “lifestyle” or “museum”. A visit requires the same style of concentration as does an exhibition of Old Masters.'

Source:- https://www.dennissevershouse.co.uk/

 The tour is conducted in silence, mobile phones must be turned off and photography is not allowed (hence these images of the house are PDFs).

It is open on some evenings and for a limited amount of time on a couple of days.  On a Monday, it is open from 12pm-2pm and, on a drizzly day, I duly rolled up at a couple of minutes to twelve to find a queue had already formed.  They only let ten people in at a time and, as I was number twenty-one in the queue, I had to wait twenty minutes.  It wasn't all that bad- I had my (leopard print!) brolly with me and the time soon vanished.  It costs a tenner to get in and I thought that was reasonable.

We are, firstly, invited into the basement.  Here is the larder, with its shrine to Spitalfields.  Don't be fooled by the light, which has, no doubt been created for the purpose of photography- the house is candlelit throughout and it is REALLY dark in this part.

Here is the kitchen, which was my favourite room of the house.  I'm sure that this room has featured on the TV programme, 'If Walls Could Talk', which was presented by Lucy Worsley.  The fire is real, as are some of the objects.  I can certainly vouch for the wibbly-wobbly jelly, as I had a sneaky poke!

Here is the dining room.  You do have to focus on the detail, as every room abounds with clutter but, you see, it has all been put there for a purpose.

Next we came to a parlour that seemed to be a shrine to Victorian bad taste, which was interesting as the blurb dictates that the house is styled in the manner of the early 18th century.

The view of the little tropical garden is lovely.  Here's a PDF I pulled, featuring the manager of the house, Nick Pedroli.  I don't usually like people in my depictions, but it was the only image I could find!

We venture upwards to the first floor and a much more feminine room, set up for afternoon tea.  Candied fruits are on display in the hallway and you can smell these, adding to the atmosphere.  The sounds of the street are also piped through.  They are very realistic.

Here is the smoking room.  On the wall is a William Hogarth painting and the owner of the house has tried to make the display of the room depict exactly what's going on the picture.  This is very freaky!  I think this is the room that had a strong smell of woodsmoke.

Upstairs to the bedroom, which gives a new meaning to shabby chic... I especially loved the dressing tables dotted around the building, resplendent with feminine requirements  such as jewellery and hairbrushes.  I loved looking into the grainy mirrors, expecting to see... what, exactly?  Was I hoping to be transported back in time?  The beds looked like someone had just got out of them but did we really need to see the chamber pots?! 

Here is the decidedly female side room on this floor.

Up to the lodgers' bedroom, with corners created to look like scenes from more than one Dickens novel.  This room was falling apart and was really bloody cold and creepy.

Side weaver's room.  I stood on a loose floorboard and the bobbin to one side of the weaving gear started sliding upwards.  Talk about (unintentionally ) interactive!

What Dennis Severs was thinking of, I do not know.  He lived from 1948-1999 and lived in this house, as it is displayed to us, for some years.  Why?  Only he could answer that.  I found the whole experience unsettling.  I didn't quite feel like the Jervis family had just left any of the rooms as I entered.  Maybe it was the presence of other tourists?  Maybe it was catching glimpses of my modern-dressed self in the mirror?  But I certainly 'got it.'  And strangely enough, I would visit the house again.  There's something about it that draws you in.

After I left the house, I wandered into Spitalfields Market, around the corner.  But the smell of the many foodstuffs on sale, competing with each other for prominence in the wintry air, made me feel sick so I finished my day with a drink in The Ten Bells, famous for being the pub in which Jack the Ripper's prostitute victims drank.  It is, apparently, mostly unchanged since his day.

A lady came up to me and mentioned that she'd seen me in Dennis Severs' House, and asked what I made of it.  'I found it creepy,' was my answer.  We both agreed that we wouldn't want to live the way they did in those days and are glad that times have moved on.

Mural in the corner depicting Gilbert and George, who live around the corner.

I've read that the toilets are worth noting for their tiled walls, so here's my photographs.

A kind of selfie.  This mirror looks like it was around during Jack's days!!!!

I will return to The Ten Bells soon, as I intend to visit the nearby Jack the Ripper museum, and go on one of their Ripper Tours.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

AMBITIONS by AUDREY HOWARD

AMBITIONS

BY AUDREY HOWARD

THE BLURB:-

They founded an empire together, but at a terrible cost to themselves.

Lacy Hemingway and Rose O'Malley could not have had more different origins- Lacy's full of privilege, as befitted the daughter of Liverpool's richest shipping magnate; Rose's as difficult as only the life of poor Irish immigrants could be.

Their friendship was as powerful as it was unlikely. From the early days of childhood, they faced a sometimes hostile world together. It was their strength that helped them build a business empire that was a model to the world of men they challenged.

But, ultimately, their empire and their friendship were brought to the point of destruction by the love each of them had for the same man.

THE REALITY:-

Wow and waheeey!!!! A tome!!!! And I do love tomes- nowadays writers are supposed to fit into the box of producing a 400 page commercial novel- that and definitely no longer. But in the 1980s, when this novel was published, tomes were not frowned upon. People are not stupid, you know, and do have the intellect and endurance to finish a 669 page novel, and one in small print at that. And, in today's busy world, some of us also make the time to pursue our hobbies, such as reading, as self-love and nurturing is really important- as opposed to life being about 'all work and no play'.

Rant over, now for the story. 'Ambitions' was incredibly well researched, digging into periods of history and lifestyles that I am not an expert on; such at the finer details of the American Civil War, the Crimean War and also the ins and outs of the world of shipping magnates in the 19^th century. Of course, all of this can be lifted from books on those subjects, but the writer has also examined the finer details, such as the turns of phrases/workaday language, fashions and mannerisms used during those times. The world of the characters came alive with clever scenic descriptions of both town and country, and the social codes of the day were well explored. You also get to see the very stark contrast between the world of the rich and the world of the poor, with likeable and loathsome characters on both sides and immense depictions that enlighten every one of your senses. When Rose goes to visit her childhood home, you can almost smell the stench of poverty and taste her wariness of her rancid stepfather. Talking of the latter, it was good to see 'Lancer' McGhee get his just desserts and laugh out loud funny that his nickname came from him having a very large penis- and also quite horrid too... Do read the book and find out why.  The writer has a very good grasp of the English language and I managed to learn some new words, which is always a bonus for me.  I like to broaden my intellect.

The story itself is really enthralling, with so much depth that it's hard not to engross yourself into the core of it. Would I prefer to be Lacy or Rose (our heroines), fighting for credibility in a man's world? Neither. They were successful, but both had real tragedies happen to them in their lives. Here comes a spoiler alert- Lacy, with her illegal backstreet abortion nearly killing her and leaving her unable to have children, and Rose, with her horrible, poverty stricken and dangerous early life.  The latter's enduring love for James stopped her from forming a relationship with any other man. I could, unfortunately, relate to Lacy's teenage feelings with regard to being abandoned both by the father she loved and the man she had fallen in love with. It's difficult when those you look up to and really believe will look after you neglect to do so. Lacy, with the help of Rose, was strong enough to move on. It took me longer, maybe because I didn't have a much-needed 'Rose' in my life, and couldn't confide in my mother.  I did have one gripe, however, and that is that the end of the novel did start to seem predictable, the further you got into the book.

It is pleasing that Audrey Howard is not a young writer- I believe she was 52 when her first novel was published, and has gone on to have a very prolific career, with an impressive back list. This makes me feel a bit guilty for not pressing on with my second novel, but something else always seems to get in the way. At the moment it's flat redecorating/ finding people do to the jobs that require a professional and job hunting (as I do not like my stupid day job). But I plain to save so that I can leave it behind. Then I can devote all of my time to, firstly, redecorating, and secondly, working on my next book. I was never much good at a multitasking lifestyle, me!  And don't get me started on that- I have never met a person who can multitask, despite many people boasting to the contrary.