Tag: pregnancy

73 Dove Street by Julie Owen Moylan

3 Comments

73 Dove Street by Julie Owen Moylan

Published by Penguin Michael Joseph

What They Say


When Edie Budd arrives at a shabby West London boarding house in October 1958, carrying nothing except a broken suitcase and an envelope full of cash, it’s clear she’s hiding a terrible secret.

And she’s not the only one; the other women of 73 Dove Street have secrets of their own . . .

Tommie, who lives on the second floor, waits on the eccentric Mrs Vee by day. After dark, she harbours an addiction to seedy Soho nightlife – and a man she can’t quit.

Phyllis, 73 Dove Street’s formidable landlady, has set fire to her husband’s belongings after discovering a heart-breaking betrayal – yet her fierce bravado hides a past she doesn’t want to talk about.

At first, the three women keep to themselves.

But as Edie’s past catches up with her, Tommie becomes caught in her web of lies – forcing her to make a decision that will change everything . . .

What I Say

Sometimes in life there are things you can control and things you can’t. When Amanda (@bookishchat) and I read That Green Eyed Girl back in 2022 we knew straight away that we wanted to feature Julie and her brilliant novel on our joint bookish channel Two Fond of Books, because we knew how many people would love it.

We were right, and as soon as we heard that Julie had a second novel coming out called 73 Dove Street, it was without question that we wanted to ask Julie back to Two Fond so we could celebrate the publication and shout about it as much as we could.

What we didn’t anticipate was that personal circumstances would throw us both a huge curve ball, and we would have to take the difficult decision to end Two Fond of Books before we could have the chance to celebrate Julie and 73 Dove Street.

The last few months have been challenging for me to say the least, for reasons that are not important here, but I always knew that I wanted to read 73 Dove Street when I could really stop and savour every page.

I am so glad I picked it up, and so glad I waited til now to read it, because it is a novel that you will be absolutely and totally immersed in from the very first page.

When Edie first arrives at 73 Dove Street clutching her battered cardboard suitcase, it is very clear to us that she is running from something and someone, and that she needs a place to stay so she can disappear for a while. As Edie’s dual narrative unfurls, we see how Edie’s relationship with her husband Frank goes from a seemingly loving one to a world where Frank controls every aspect of her life, and starts to physically and emotionally abuse her.

As Phyllis, the landlady of 73 Dove Street is dealing with her own marital breakdown after her husband Terry cheated on her with one of the tenants, letting Edie have the attic room works for her, and Edie’s appearance is a timely solution to her need for a new lodger. Phyllis is aware of how she is getting older, and becoming invisible to the world, and as her world slowly unravels, we start to understand how the devastating events of the past have shaped her world and her place in it.

Tommie who lives there already seems to be confident and assured – working for Mrs Vee in her huge Bayswater House by day, and at night living life to the fullest. Yet we also see how Tommie is attracted to a man who simply sees her as a commodity to be picked up and put down as he wants – and she can’t see how he will never want anything more from her.

Let’s get two things straight from the start. Julie Owen Moylan has written a novel that puts you right into the heart of 1950’s London. The sights, sounds, description and domestic detail that permeate every page of this story bring this world so vividly to life, and it feels utterly authentic.

The other thing is is that Julie totally understands women and what it meant to be a women at that time. In another writer’s hands, Edie, Tommie and Phyllis could have been paper thin stereotypes, but Julie’s pitch perfect characterisations mean that these women resonate so deeply with us as readers because they are authentic, vulnerable and flawed.

73 Dove Street is a nuanced and intelligent novel, which for me shows how much Julie absolutely understands her characters and also the people who are reading her words. Julie is not afraid to show that life is often not straightforward and that neat and tidy solutions to life’s problems are not always what happens, however much we would like them to be.

Each of the women has undoubtedly been through things in their lives, and what makes them resonate with us is that in 2023 we still recognise that these issues are still prevalent today. Edie, Tommie and Phyllis are women who may be dealing with significantly different things in their lives, but they are united by two things. The painful and difficult awareness of where they are in their lives and how they got there, and the eventual realisation that it is within them to be the catalyst they need to be to make sure that the next part of their lives is going to be entirely in their control. They just have to understand that they need to have the courage to embrace and acknowledge it.

I absolutely loved it.

Thank you so much to Livvi Thomas and Penguin Michael Joseph for my proof copy.

The Whispers by Ashley Audrain

Leave a comment

The Whispers by Ashley Audrain

Published by Michael Joseph on 20th July

Available from all Good Bookshops

What They Say

The whispers started long before the accident on Harlow Street . . .
Was it at the party, when Whitney screamed blue murder at her son?
Or after neighbour Blair started prowling Whitney’s house, uninvited?
Or once Rebecca and Ben’s childlessness finally puts a crack in their marriage?
But on the terrible night of the accident, the whispers grow louder, more insistent.
Neighbours gather round. Questions are asked. Secrets are spilled. And the gloss on everything begins to rub off. Everyone is drawn into the darkness.
Because there’s no smoke without fire.
No friendship without envy.
And no lie that does not conceal a devastating truth . .

What I Say

You might have already read Ashley’s first novel, The Push – which quickly found its place as one of my favourite books.

When I was asked if I would like a proof of The Whispers, of course I said yes, but there is always that slight concern that it won’t be so brilliant, and then how do you review it?

Readers, let me tell you, I think The Whispers is even better.

This is a novel which puts motherhood and relationships front and centre. What does it mean to be a mother? What does society expect from mothers? Does it mean losing ourselves as we strive to make sure that our children’s needs are always the most important, and what if you don’t fit the template that everyone expects you to?

With Whitney, Blair and Rebecca, we see three very different women living in the same street, all dealing with motherhood and their relationships in very different ways.

Whitney feels overwhelmed by motherhood, and instead spends as much time as she can out of the house at her business, leaving the parenting to her husband and anyone else, revealing how dull and boring she finds it, resentful of all the mundanity and routine it brings.

Her best friend Blair is the complete opposite, her world is her daughter, and her own wants and needs have been subsumed by her daughter and husband. Yet Blair is not fulfilled either, is desperately lonely, and yearns for something that is her own. Blair slowly starts to suspect that her husband is having an affair – with Whitney.

Rebecca is an ER Doctor, and in spite of trying, is unable to carry a child to full term. Although originally she wanted to stop trying, she now wants to have a child with her husband. As they try to conceive, the gap between them becomes wider, and Rebecca feels that her marriage is failing.

Whitney undoubtedly seems to have the world and her neighbours in her picket fence perfect suburb of Harlow Street at her beck and call. Until one day at a party held in her home, they hear her screaming at her son, Xavier. A few months later, Xavier is in a coma, having apparently fallen from his bedroom window, and as she rushes to his bedside, seemingly bereft, his accident shows us exactly who Whitney really is. and little by little, the seemingly perfect facade of Harlow Street slowly cracks to show us exactly what secrets the residents are hiding.

As the events leading up to Xavier’s fall start to become clearer, and the women’s lives start to unravel before us, you understand that each of these women have one thing in common – that they have put the needs of others first, and that although on the surface they seem content, very slowly you understand that each of them is burying the anger and resentment that they feel, because to show it outwardly would deem them as socially unacceptable.

Ashley Audrain’s incisive and intelligent writing reflects this. If all these women were perfect examples of motherhood – then we wouldn’t engage with them, and the story would feel vacuous. It is the very fact that these women articulate what so many of us express privately is what makes us feel a connection with them. They are not perfect, they are vulnerable and at times bewildered by a world that judges them for their ability to conform to standards that are old fashioned and unforgiving.

The power of this novel also comes from the way in which the plot moves along at a rapid pace, but never feels forced or contrived. Ashley knows that in order for us to engage with and care about the characters, that there has to be a distinct line between scintillating plot twists and truthful character portrayals, and in The Whispers, she achieves this perfectly.

The Whispers is a brilliantly constructed and effortlessly plotted novel that once you start reading you cannot put it down. Ashley absolutely understands not only the dynamics and pressures of families, but also the complicated and sometimes limiting roles we find ourselves in as partners and parents. As the novel draws to its conclusion, Blair and Rebecca find the confidence to determine what they want from their lives, putting themselves first. We also sense that Whitney will finally get the chance to be the mother she realises she wants to be, but be prepared, because life is never that straightforward is it?

I absolutely loved it.

Thank you so much to Jen Breslin for my proof copy.

The Year Of The Cat by Rhiannon Lucy Cosslett

4 Comments

The Year of the Cat by Rhiannon Lucy Cosslett

Published by Tinder Press on 19th January

Available from West End Lane Books and

All Good Bookshops

What They Say

I looked around at my flat, at the woodchip wallpaper and scuffed furniture, and realised that I did have a life after all. What it didn’t have in it was a cat.

When Rhiannon fell in love with, and eventually married her flatmate, she imagined they might one day move on. But this is London in the age of generation rent, and so they share their home with a succession of friends and strangers while saving for a life less makeshift. The desire for a baby is never far from the surface, but can she be sure that she will ever be free of the anxiety she has experienced since an attack in the street one night? And after a childhood spent caring for her autistic brother does she really want to devote herself to motherhood?

Moving through the seasons over the course of lockdown, The Year of the Cat nimbly charts the way a kitten called Mackerel walked into Rhiannon’s home and heart, and taught her to face down her fears and appreciate quite how much love she had to offer.

What I Say

The pandemic and lockdown we all went through now seems for me to be a time I can remember parts of, but also feels slightly surreal, like it happened to someone else. It is also undeniably a shared collective memory that will forever unite a generation who lived through it, and I am endlessly fascinated to read people’s accounts of their experiences as a way to understand mine.

The Year of the Cat by Rhiannon Lucy Cosslett takes us through that period as Rhiannon and her husband decide to get a kitten, and while this memoir may start as a love letter to cats, and the irrefutable impact that they have had on women’s lives and the stories that surround them, this book evolves beautifully into one that holds so much in its pages.

This is a book not only about Rhiannon’s experiences of owning cats through her life and how Mackerel her kitten came to be such a part of it during the pandemic, but it is also an honest and visceral memoir about trauma, PTSD, mental health, motherhood, family and caring.

Adopting Mackerel during such a strange and unknown time, when going outside became something we would never take for granted again, means that as well as focussing on Mackerel and how to look after him, Rhiannon has plenty of time to be alone with thoughts and memories. Unimaginable events that Rhiannon has lived through – a vicious assault by a stranger, and being in Paris at the very time terrorist attacks were taking place, leads her to think about her past and future, as she contemplates whether having mental health issues impact her ability to be a mother.

What Rhiannon captures so perfectly in these pages is the thoughts that so many of us have, but are afraid to articulate for fear of being judged for having them. I had an overwhelming desire to have children, but believing that my own emotional shortcomings and the fact that I didn’t know if I could care for a human being when I found it difficult to look after myself, led me to write my own lengthy diary entries as to the pros and cons of me taking that step. Reader I did, which for my first child led me down paths I never dreamed I would ever follow.

This leads me to the other part of Rhiannon’s memoir that resonated deeply with me as a full time carer, and led me to use up all the post it notes I had to hand. Rhiannon’s brother is severely autistic and in a care home, and the lockdown leads to a heartbreaking separation for them. What Rhiannon does so wonderfully in her memoir is not only to articulate what it means to not be able to visit the ones we love, but also what it means to care for someone who has special needs. The love you have is overwhelming, but like Rhiannon and her Mum, you cannot explain to someone what it means to be a full time carer unless they have lived it. To understand what it means to be in a constant state of fighting for everything and explaining repeatedly the same story told in numerous ways according to which professional and which department you are talking to. Rhiannon writes with an innate compassion and understanding that made me teary a few times, because I knew exactly what she and her Mum were feeling.

To read Rhiannon’s memories of living with her brother and mother, and the highs and lows of that time, along with some brilliant anecdotes – including an unforgettable supermarket visit I don’t think anyone will ever forget, added another layer of humanity to this unforgettable memoir, and I loved it. As Rhiannon starts to question her own ability to be a mother, we as readers already know that her lived experiences have given her so much experience already, and that we will her to see what an amazing Mum she will be, and hope she gets exactly what she desires.

The Year of The Cat will connect with many people in many different ways because Rhiannon writes about her own experiences with such candour that you cannot fail to be moved. It is also the first time I have read a book that describes so perfectly the numerous internal conversations about motherhood and the responsibilities of caring for someone else which I had before having children, and that that are still part of my world twenty one years after having my first child, which is why I will endlessly recommend Rhiannon’s book.

I absolutely loved it.

Thank you so much to Mary-Anne Harrington and Tinder Press for my gifted proof copy.

Magpie by Elizabeth Day

6 Comments

Magpie by Elizabeth Day

Published by 4th Estate Books

Available from West End Lane Books,

All Good Bookshops and Online

What They Say

In Jake, Marisa has found everything she’s ever wanted. Then their new lodger Kate arrives.

Something about Kate isn’t right. Is it the way she looks at Marisa’s boyfriend? Sits too close on the sofa? Constantly asks about the baby they are trying for? Or is it all just in Marisa’s head?

After all, that’s what her Jake keeps telling her. And she trusts him – doesn’t she?

But Marisa knows something is wrong. That the woman sleeping in their house will stop at nothing to get what she wants.

Marisa just doesn’t know why.

How far will she go to find the answer – and how much is she willing to lose?

What I Say

I am going to start this review by telling you this will be a bit of a different post from me.

This is largely due to the fact that to tell you really anything too much about the plot of #Magpie would be to ruin it completely – I’m not even joking!

What I can tell you is that as a fan of Elizabeth Day’s writing, Magpie is a brilliantly observed and incredibly compelling novel about the way in which a woman’s worth is measured by her ability to have children and be a mother. It is also a sensitive and empathic depiction of a woman who has been raped and has spent her adult life searching for a way to love and feel loved again, as well as dealing with her complex and at times overwhelming mental issues.

When Marisa moves in with Jake, it seems like she has finally found the emotional stability she is looking for. A beautiful house from where she can write and illustrate her children’s books, and an attentive and understanding boyfriend is everything she has ever wanted. When the glamorous and confident Kate enters the mix and lives in the house too, Marisa starts to compare herself to Kate, and begins to suspect that Kate and Jake’s relationship is more involved that she wants to admit.

Little by little the housemates are starting to impact on each other’s lives, and the once peaceful and idyllic house rapidly becomes a place of unease and tension. Jake, Marisa and Kate may live under the same roof, but slowly each of them realises that they don’t really know each other as well as they may think. The sanctuary they believed they had is slowly slipping away from them. Kate and Marisa clash more and more, and each becomes convinced that the other is going out of their way to upset them – until it becomes clear that something catastrophic is going to happen.

This is the perfect thing about Magpie, because the revelation is one simple line, and with that, everything you thought you knew about Jake, Kate and Marisa is turned on its head. I guarantee it will stop you in your tracks, and you then find yourself flipping back in the book looking for clues. They are there – you just didn’t know because you were too busy becoming absorbed in Marisa, Kate and Jake’s lives.

Added to the mix is Jake’s mother Annabelle, a woman who is besotted with Jake, initially hesitant about Marisa and less than enamoured with Kate. Annabelle seems to have an opinion on everything and a disdain for those who do not agree with her. Whilst she lavishes Jake with love and attention, she remains emotionally distant from Marisa and dismissive of Kate with a plethora of passive aggressive put downs that ensure they know exactly who is Queen Bee.

Make no mistake, this is a novel that is absolutely about women and how our lives are scrutinised and categorised according to our maternal instincts and ability to bear children. We see the sheer physical and emotional toll that IVF and pregnancy can have on a woman, and that how being pregnant means that somehow your body and well-being becomes public property and up for discussion and comment. Magpie undoubtedly also shows us that a mother’s love for her child, and what she will do to protect them is one of the most powerful and passionate things can ever be experienced.

The absorbing narrative that moves backwards and forwards slowly pulls you towards the characters and lets you make your own conclusions about them as you start to discover more about their lives and experiences. Elizabeth’s measured prose and immersive descriptions of Marisa, Kate and Annabelle, mean that you cannot help but feel some connection to them because you understand them so completely. They are not perfect, but who is? If they were, they would not resonate with us as deeply as they do.

Magpie is one of those books that you desperately want people to read so that you can talk about what happens! It is so cleverly written, and sensitively handles many different issues which helps us as readers to understand others lived experiences and to only deepen our emotional connections to the characters. The Magpie of the title shifts its form throughout the novel, as you learn how it is always present, ready to pounce as soon as vulnerabilities are exposed, poised to take what it thinks is rightfully theirs – but be warned – it’s not always who you expect, which is exactly why this novel is so chillingly perfect and utterly captivating.

I absolutely and completely loved it.

Thank you so much to Liv Marsden at 4th Estate Books for my gifted proof copy.

You can buy your copy of Magpie from West End Lane Books here.