#20BooksofSummer: London Calling by Sara Sheridan
'Jazz washes away the dust of everyday life' (Art Blakey)
In Sara Sheridan’s London Calling, Mirabelle Bevan and her assistant Vesta Churchill find themselves investigating the disappearance of wealthy young socialite Rose Bellamy Gore. Their search for Rose leads them from Brighton to the seedy world of London’s jazz bars and the smart West End homes of the aristocracy.
It is 1952, just seven years after the end of the war, and
no respectable lady can be seen frequenting shady dives in Soho – but Rose
Bellamy Gore and her cousin Harry like nothing better than escaping from their stuffy
family homes in Belgravia to the exciting world of late night sessions in smoky
basement clubs. Here Rose makes a point of socialising with black musicians; to
her it’s all fun, an exciting risk to take before she settles down and marries
a suitably rich and titled man.
In Brighton, Mirabelle and Vesta are working hard to make a
go of their debt collecting agency. Mirabelle has fled London after the death
of her married lover, Jack, whom she met while working for the Secret Service.
Vesta has a large and loving family in the East End; she left the city to
strike out on her own and to see a bit of life away from the watchful eyes of
her beloved parents.
When Vesta’s childhood friend Lindon Claremont appears at
the door of the agency one wet and windy January morning, he’s in trouble.
While playing the saxophone at Mac’s Rehearsal Rooms the night before, he
chatted with Rose – she even gave him her cigarette lighter. Rose was in the
club with Harry and a neighbour of theirs, Lavinia Blyth. During
the course of the evening, the three of them left the club – but Harry and
Lavinia quickly returned. Now Rose has disappeared - presumably abducted - and according
to Barney, the club’s doorman, Lindon is the police’s chief suspect. He fled to
Brighton in the hope that Vesta and her boss might be able to help him –
otherwise he doesn’t rate his chances in a city where racism and police
corruption are equally dependable;
‘”It’s like they got a room reserved for us at the Savile Row nick – seems there’s always one of us in there.”’
Mirabelle persuades Lindon to talk to her friend, Detective Superintendent
McGregor; she believes the police will realise that Lindon is innocent. When
the Brighton police hand Lindon over to the Met, however, his fate is more or
less decided.
Mirabelle and Vesta set out to prove Lindon’s innocence and find out what has
really happened to Rose. Soon she is up in town, staying at the discreet Dukes
Hotel, visiting the Oxford and Cambridge Club, running into wartime friends and
colleagues, and engineering meetings with the family and friends of the missing
girl and her set – including Lavinia’s sister Deirdre and their ex-War Office
father, the Right Honourable Paul Blyth, whose reputation as a difficult bully is well known. Before she has made any real headway, however, Lindon is found hanged
in his cell, and is presumed to have committed suicide. Vesta is convinced that
Lindon would have done no such thing, and Mirabelle, racked with guilt, senses
a stitch-up.
What really happened between Lindon and Rose? Why did Harry and Lavinia let her leave the jazz club without them? And why, when Lavinia called her father to let him know that Rose had disappeared, did he call the police rather than Rose's father, his long-time neighbour, in Upper Belgrave Street?
'Belgravia operates within its own circles first and foremost...To get hold of the police immediately would risk a scandal.'
Has
Rose vanished deliberately? And is Harry a suspect or simply an immature,
over-privileged, youth? Mirabelle continues to investigate the aristocracy of
Belgravia, while Vesta, together with her new friend, drummer Charlie Baker, look
for clues in the jazz community. And eventually, but only after following a
dangerous trail leading to very high places, the two women and Charlie discover
what happened to Rose – and a great deal more.
In London Calling there were many things I liked and a few I felt didn’t work so well. Both Vesta and Charlie are lively, interesting
characters; some of the most engaging scenes in the story take place in and around
Vesta’s family’s home in the East End, and I enjoyed the insight these gave into
the lives of traditional West Indian communities in London at that time. Sheridan also
addresses the overt racism directed at people of colour in 1950s Britain; at
Dukes hotel the staff assume Vesta is Mirabelle’s maid, and even Mirabelle’s friend
Eddie jokes about Lindon’s fate without realising how crass he is being.
Less satisfactory for me was the character of Mirabelle
herself. I found her shallow and rather dull; she seems to have no sense of
humour, and whilst I appreciate that her lover has died I wish she’d stop
banging on about it so much ('Even when she smiled her sadness was tangible’ – I
don’t think she ever does actually smile!) She also seems to be able to perform
amazing feats of gymnastics (climbing up walls, breaking into houses) even when
injured. Mirabelle is clearly a snappy dresser, but her ‘high heels clicked’ once
too often and started to be the only thing I noticed about her appearance.
Sheridan has certainly done her homework on the 1950s – from
rationing coupons to black market rabbit and bread and dripping, all the food
references are there, as is the music – Dinah Shore, Perry Como, and of course
a whole lot of jazz. It’s fascinating, too, to see just how suspect jazz was after the war
– nowadays it’s beyond cool, but then…
‘”When will this evil music stop?” the Mirror asked’
Both Dukes Hotel and the Oxford & Cambridge Club are real places that still exist. Pre-Clean Air Act London smog, trams and bomb sites all feature too – but sometimes there seem to be a few too many details; yes, set the scene, but I felt this was an instance when less really would have been more.
The eventual resolution of the plot was a little contrived and confusing, but
the introduction of a well-known figure of the day did add interest.
A good read, but one that could, I feel, have been better. I’d like to read
more about Vesta – and also new employee Bill Turpin, who seems promising. And
I’d like to see Mirabelle have a bit more fun and a lot less introspection.
'In Brighton she would have been sitting at the window of her flat...reading the Argus with Friday Night is Music Night on in the background and contemplating a fish paste sandwich before bedtime...'
Lighten up Mirabelle - learn a few things from Vesta!
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