Alys, Always

by Harriet Lane

On a bitter winter’s night, Frances Thorpe comes upon the aftermath of a car crash and, while comforting the dying driver, Alys Kyte, hears her final words. The wife of a celebrated novelist, Alys moved in rarefied circles, and when Frances agrees to meet the bereaved family, she glimpses a world entirely foreign to her: cultured, wealthy, and privileged. While slowly forging a friendship with Alys’s carelessly charismatic daughter, Frances finds her own life takes a dramatic turn, propelling her from an anonymous existence as an assistant editor for the books section of a newspaper to the dizzying heights of literary society. Transfixing, insightful, and unsettling, Alys, Always drops us into the mind of an enigmatic young woman whose perspective on a glamorous world also shines a light on those on the outside who would risk all to become part of it.

Genres: Fiction, Mystery, Contemporary, Literary Fiction, British Literature, Book Club, Suspense

240 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 2012

About the author

Harriet Lane has worked as an editor and staff writer at Tatler and the Observer. She has also written for Vogue, the Guardian and the New York Times. She lives in north London.

Reviews

[Blair · Rating 5 out of 5]

(First read February 2012; most recent reread August 2025.) Delightful to revisit this, one of my all-time favourites; quite simply a touchstone book for me, the yardstick against which so many others are measured. Still completely agree with my original assessment of it, and I’d somehow forgotten it’s also an absolutely perfect summer read.

Original review (written 2012):
Frances Thorpe is a struggling journalist who is driving home one night when she encounters a car accident and stops to help. Although she's unable to see the car's occupant, they have a short conversation; later, Frances learns the woman, Alys Kyte, died minutes later. When she's asked to visit the Kyte family to talk about Alys's last words, her natural impulse is do what's necessary and escape as quickly as possible... until she discovers that Alys was the wife of a celebrated, Booker-winning author, Laurence Kyte. Partly by chance and partly by design, she starts an unconventional friendship with the Kytes' 19-year-old daughter Polly, and soon sees an opportunity to ingratiate herself with the family and to better herself, both personally and professionally.

Frances is single, somewhere in her thirties, and works as a subeditor on the books pages of a left-leaning newspaper. She has few friends, an awkward and distant relationship with her parents, and is often treated as a dogsbody by her boss. However, her desires are driven by something a bit more complicated than simple loneliness. (Faced with potential interest from a scruffily dressed, but nevertheless attractive and available, male colleague at a party in his shabby flat, she baulks and flees.) Rather, Frances's short interaction with Alys awakens something in her. We're never quite sure of her exact motives, which is one of the things that makes her narrative so compelling. But as she begins to realise how far her association with the Kytes could take her, her determination and ambition grow - along with her deviousness.

At several points, Frances is asked, 'where did you come from?' The words are spoken both as an accusation and an endearment. This book - Frances's story - is the answer to that question. With excellent pacing and perfect clarity, Lane shows us how quickly Frances is seduced by the Kytes' lifestyle - not just the privilege and status, but how easy it all is. This is a state Frances becomes increasingly desperate to achieve, and it's difficult to read about it without becoming similarly beguiled. At so many points I just wanted to jump into the book, to live inside it. Frances is a brilliant creation, by turns sympathetic and terrifying, but always plausible.

Engrossing to the point of being absolutely addictive, this is one of those books that makes you feel you've fallen into a different world: after I'd devoured it within less than 24 hours, I looked up from it dazed and a little bit lost. I loved the story, loved the style and found myself thoroughly under the spell of Frances and the Kyte family. The ending is dark, delicious and absolutely perfect. Harriet Lane, you have a fan for life!

[Kathleen · Rating 1 out of 5]

The emperor has no clothes. You know when you find yourself checking the clock during a movie or eyeing the measure of remaining pages in a book with an increasing sense of unease of how the story will wrap up in a satisfactory way and then....it doesn't. Sometimes it turns out it was just a dumb story to begin with that goes nowhere. Welcome to Alys, Always. We're supposed to shiver at the depths of cunning and deceit of the main character, Frances in her quest to "rise above" her pedestrian lineage and upbringing. But the reader is given too little background on her pathological desire and without it, her generally crappy personality makes this tale difficult to read. In fact, each character in this novel is a poorly fleshed out, miserable SOB that elicits neither interest nor empathy. At the end, you'll want to shout "who the hell cares and why did I waste my time reading this"?

[Tea Leaves and Reads · Rating 1 out of 5]

For an acclaimed psychological thriller, this was pretty weak. Maybe it's the inner psychotic inside me that thinks there could have been so much more made of this, or maybe actually many others agree. I was waiting for the crunch, the big one, the bit where she so wildly oversteps the line there is no going back. Yes she manipulates, yes there are the occasional crazy behaviors dropped in but it's not enough.

I felt that the characters surrounding Frances could have been explored a bit more, some more insight perhaps. The various flashbacks to childhood occurring when on the beach or near the sand were never really explained, whilst that's cute, actually by the end I wanted an explanation. Difficult childhood, difficult parents, whatever, I just wanted to know what had driven this woman to behave in the way she did, which, as I've said, could have been fifty times more psychologically disturbing.

[Leanne · Rating 4 out of 5]

In the vein of Notes on a Scandal and The Woman Upstairs, Alys, Always focuses on a character who's on the outside looking in. Mid-thirties and single, working as an uncelebrated and unnoticed editor of a flailing newspaper, Frances Thorpe quite simply lives an unremarkable life. One night, driving home, she encounters a serious car accident and keeps the driver company as they wait for an ambulance to arrive. The driver turns out to be Alys Kyte, wife of well-respected author Laurence Kyte, and after meeting Laurence and his two children in an effort to provide closure, she stars to slowly integrate herself into their lives. As she grows closer to the Kytes, it starts affecting other aspects of her own life - she is taken more seriously in professional circles, she is motivated her to improve her appearance, her confidence slowly builds.

I've seen "unreliable narrator" tossed around in various reviews, and I must say that I didn't really see that in this novel. Frances is lonely, yes, and cleverly manipulative, but she is credible - she is always fully aware of what she's doing and none of her narrative is ever disproved. Instead, her voice is almost cautious - she knows she doesn't belong and it's always in the back of her mind that others might fully realize this. She's uncertain how long her good fortune will last, and her fascination with the Kytes and with Alys is tinged with guilt and fear. It goes without saying that she is a fascinating character - she has an inherent understanding of human nature (probably due to years and years of careful, constant observations) and is able to twist it to her will by the end of the story.

This is a very quiet book - the definition of a slow burn - but it's extremely well-written, absorbing and subtly sinister. It's certainly not a typical psychological thriller, and I'm not sure I would even classify it as one - the "action" is fairly sparse and there are no in-your-face twists, but that doesn't mean there aren't surprising turns in the plot. I would especially recommend it if you enjoyed any of the above mentioned novels (apparently it also bears similarities to Gillespie and I, which I'm pleased to hear as I own that one and have been meaning to read it this year!)

[Carol · Rating 4 out of 5]

It took a bit to get started, but once it did I enjoyed this novel about a woman who ingratiates herself into the family of a celebrated novelist and his rarefied social circles. Frances Thorpe’s fixation with Laurence Kyte’s family and lifestyle was reminiscent of Nora’s obsession with the Shahid family in Claire Messud’s, The Woman Upstairs. Frances wasn’t quite as angry as Nora; but, both women divulge personal thoughts of a stifled life and career. Likewise, the object of their obsession represents all that they desire for themselves.

At first, Frances appears to be rather mild and inoffensive. Then the story slowly unfolds to reveal her much more complex (and manipulative) ulterior motivations. The reader may be exposed to her intensions but the other characters in the novel are mostly oblivious.

Very well written, pared down and quietly disturbing…my favorite kind of novel.

[Maciek · Rating 3 out of 5]

Alys, Always is Harriet Lane's debut novel, narrated in the first person by Frances Thorpe - a quiet and rather unremarkable person, who works as a sub-editor for the book section of The Observer and lives alone in her north London flat, having few friends and socializing very infrequently.

Frances is resigned to her life being little more than the plodding job and solitude, until one day she witnesses a traffic accident. Frances pulls over and approaches the crashed vehicle, noticing that a woman is crushed behind the wheel, but remains alive; she comforts the woman, whose name is Alice, and remains with her until the police arrive; unfortunately, Alice dies from her injuries soon afterwards. Frances is soon discovers that Alice's real ame was Alys, and that her husband is the famous novelist, the Booker winning Laurence Kyte - as his family contacts her, in order to learn about Alys's last few moments...allowing Frances an entrance onto the London literary scene, letting her walk in the world she used to know only on paper.

Harriet Lane writes engagingly, and the novel maintains a good pace. Frances's voice is compelling enough to make us want to turn the page, and her transformation - from a mundane newspaper worker to a careful schemer who keep her cards close and plans out her actions in advance to ensure she'll get what she wants - is an interesting, if predictable one. But there is simply not enough material here to make it unique - shades of Rebecca and What Was She Thinking? Notes on a Scandal are present throughout (at one point Frances event picks up a copy of Rebecca from a shelf), but we're simply not given enough insight into Frances herself as to understand her desires and the choices that she makes, which makes them feel scripted instead of something we'd expect her to do. The novel feels more like an earlier and incomplete draft, or a screenplay which would benefit from the actors' talent and craftsmanship. The big moment - Frances crossing the point of no return - never happened, and after finishing reading I was left wanting and disappointed.

[Cyndi · Rating 2 out of 5]

I kinda thought I’d like this book, but alas. Woe is me. 🤷🏼‍♀️ Our heroine begins the story with a life in black and white. Soon she steps into the life of a dead woman and begins to color her life in. She manipulates people and her retribution is a happily ever after. Yeah...a bit weird.🤷🏼‍♀️

[Andrew · Rating 2 out of 5]

Charlotte Black drops back to join me. She’s one of those rare women who looks as pulled together off duty as she does in more formal circumstances. I have to admire her slim-fitting, dark cotton dress and flat, plain sandals and the few adroit bits of silver. “Are you having a good holiday?” she asks as we pause to let two teenagers drag a dinghy over the road, up towards a boatshed.

“Oh, yes. I didn’t really have any plans, and then Polly asked me down, and I’ve never quite got around to leaving,” I say with a laugh.

“Yes, it seems you’ve really become part of the family.” Something in her voice reminds me, as if I needed reminding, that I shouldn’t underestimate Charlotte Black. “What an unusual way to get to know the Kytes.”

***

Harriet Lane’s debut novel, Alys, Always opens with a young woman, Frances Thorpe, driving on an icy road in northern England, when she happens upon the aftermath of a single-car accident. The driver, Alys Kyte, wife of the famous novelist Laurence Kyte, has only moments to live. It is Frances, lonely assistant editor for the Questioner’s books section, who is present for Alys’s final words, which unexpectedly provide her with an entryway into the lives of the London book industry’s upper crust—and through them, their faults, their secrets, and their infidelities.

Alys, Always is a deceptively narrow story. Alys’s death, the event which sets in motion the entire narrative, is treated as if it is nothing more than a minor detail—a plot device to place Frances in the sights of people she at first seems to dislike or feel impatient towards, but later comes to respect and, to some uncertain degree, love.

I say uncertain because Frances’s character is distractingly uneven. From her somewhat humble beginnings as a journalistic benchwarmer, Frances’s internal monologue is, at first, bitter and full of spite towards her contemporaries; there is an air of frustration about her as she simultaneously decries the perceived ambitions and posturing of others, yet willfully adopts such tactics herself when given the opportunity to rub shoulders with Alys’s family—to get to know them on a more intimate level. What begins as a supposed desire to give closure to her family following Alys’s death quickly spirals into a strange obsession with this semi-elite gathering of spoiled-by-life adults.

Alys, Always reads at times like the soft-spoken British cousin to Stephen King’s Misery. There’s a bit of Annie Wilkes in Frances Thorpe (minus the punishing, murderous intent). The speed at which Frances transitions from comforting presence and minor family friend to a talisman-stealing, pseudo-replacement for Alys is alarming and without satisfactory set-up; though Frances’s ambitions are referenced in the book’s twilight, never do her actions feel so deliberate, so calculated as to be attributed to ambition or upward career mobility. Instead, she regrettably comes across as a lost soul who has managed to fumble her way into a position of some influence, with a family that appears, on the outside, to need her and value what she has to say more than her own family, or her employers.

With its titular character little more than a footnote to an unfortunately two-dimensional story, Alys, Always is unable to rise beyond its rather straightforward premise. Frances Thorpe is an unpredictable lead, vacillating between timid, friendly, manipulative, and desperate, with little to no reason given for the changes her character sees. Alys, Always feels less like a novel and more like a draft for a screenplay, its characters static and incomplete.

[Jane · Rating 4 out of 5]

What a wonderful book: it is clever, subtle, clear and compelling.

It begins with Frances, driving back to her home in London on Sunday evening after spending the weekend with her parents.

She sees an overturned car in the road. And so she stops, she calls the emergency services, and then she goes to speak to the woman in the car, to reassure her that help is on the way.

The woman is trapped, and she is injured, but she is calm and lucid. Alys waits with her until help arrives and then she continues on her journey home.

Back to her life in London where she lives a quiet, unremarkable life. Frances is a sub-editor, working for the literary editor of a national newspaper; she wanted to be in that world but she wanted more than she had. Quite understandably.

A few days after the accident Frances learned that the woman in the car had died. The police ask her if she will visit the woman’s family, to tell them what she knew of what had happened, to help them understand. She is reluctant, but she knows that it is the right thing to do.

She was the last person to speak to Alys Kyte.

Alys: wife of Lawrence Kyte, the celebrated, prize-winning author.

She visits an elegant Highgate townhouse, and she sees the world where she has always wanted to live. She takes care to offer words of comfort to Laurence, the grieving widower. And to say the right things to his son, Teddy and his daughter, Polly.

Polly needed a friend in London, near her drama school, and she saw that Frances could fill that role; and Frances saw how much she could gain from becoming a friend of the family.

She worked hard to gain her entrée into their world. And she accepted the career advancement that came her way when the company she was keeping was noticed. In time it seemed natural and right, that she had earned her place in the inner circle of literary London.

Bust she also had to be careful. Because what would the answers be in anyone ever asked who she was, where she had come from?

Intriguing questions, and I was pulled this way and that as I wondered what would happen. At times I felt such empathy with Frances, and I could always understand what drove her. But there were times when I instinctively felt that she should pull away, step back. And she didn’t.

This is a story that brings a clever mixture of influences together beautifully. It could be Patricia Highsmith writing with Barbara Pym. Or Anita Brookner writing with Barbara Vine perhaps.

But no, it’s Harriet Lane, and she has created something that is entirely her own. She writes with both elegance and clarity, she balances suspense with acute observation, and she understands her characters, their relationships, the worlds they move in absolutely perfectly.

She held me from the beginning to the very end.

That ending was perfect: unexpected, thought-provoking, and exactly right.

I am left thinking about everything that happpened, and what might have happened after the end of the final chapter.

And wondering what Harriet Lane might write next …

[Claire · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book is exceptional. "Alys, Always" kept me guessing right up until the end. Frances Thorpe, subeditor for the books section, lives an unexceptional life and is easy to overlook. Then Frances witnesses the final moments of Alys Kyte, wife of a celebrated novelist, and everything changes.

Frances is asked to meet with the grieving family, and is drawn into their world. Alys and Laurence's daughter Polly, a glamorous yet flaky drama student, is Frances' way of getting a foot in the door - by acting as a stabilising force in Polly's life, Frances begins her quest to become a part of the family and sets her cap at Laurence.

As the novel is narrated in the first person, initially it seems as though there is nothing out of the ordinary about Frances' quest to get closer to the Kytes. At times Frances' actions seem almost sinister (i.e. the theft of Alys' shawl), and at times normal. This narrative technique is particularly effective, as it renders Frances believable.

Why Frances puts so much energy into her pursuit of Laurence - all the while making it seem effortless - is also dealt with effectively. He is a talented, charismatic older man; Frances is attracted to him and feels a spark of electricity when they come into contact. Furthermore, the more developed her relationship with the Kyte family becomes, the more Frances advances in literary circles. She is taken seriously on a professional level, and her relationship with Laurence adds an element of mystery to her private life.

Other than the elegance of the prose, what impressed me most was how well Frances plays her hand. She is a fascinating character, and her judgments are always intriguing. Perhaps this book is a how-to manual on playing the long game - though maybe I'm overlooking Frances' tenuous relationship with the truth. As to whether Frances was slightly creepy or normal, there is no definitive answer. This book is not one that you will forget in a hurry.

[Kim · Rating 4 out of 5]

In London, Frances Thorpe works as a sub-editor on the literary column of a struggling newspaper - she is good at her job but ambitious for progression (which is slow in coming), has little social life and is ambivalent towards her parents, who she still sees regularly. On a dark and stormy night, on the way home from her parents, she comes upon the site of a crashed car, partly buried in the ditch. She approaches the vehicle and ends up in conversation with the woman trapped inside, who she is unable to see, whilst waiting for the emergency services to arrive. Having made a statement to the police, Frances discovers later that the woman, Alys, died at the scene and initially is not keen on meeting the bereaved family to give a first-hand account of her contact with Alys. However, when she discovers that the dead woman's husband is renowned author Laurence Kyte, she changes her mind and gradually works to integrate herself into the bereaved family....
I really enjoyed this book, which I think is the author's first - the character of Frances is a bit of an enigma: she seems quite a nice person but she clearly has some sort of hidden agenda when she first visits the family (how much of an agenda is gradually revealed to the reader as the story develops!). Despite all her manipulations, I couldn't help liking the character but that maybe because she is telling her own story, so the real question is how reliable she is as a narrator. The novel was published in 2012 but I was interested to find a newspaper clipping featuring a 2019 play based on the book and featuring Robert Glenister as Laurence and Joanne Froggatt as Frances, so quite 'heavyweight' actors for the parts - must admit I would have liked to see the play! - 8.5/10.

[Maya Panika · Rating 5 out of 5]

Wow. Just… Wow. It’s rare - very rare indeed - that a book that comes with as many superlatives as this lives up to the hype, but Alys Always absolutely does and more. The writing is superb, the style flinty and sparse yet richly descriptive.
The story follows the Machiavellian scheming of Frances Thorpe, an underachieving, under-noticed sub editor on the literary pages of a floundering broadsheet - a description which does no justice at all to this remarkable novel: a first-person story told in a voice that is entirely believable and recognisable, hesitant but sure, scheming and underhand, but always with a hint of guilt, a tint of fear, that she might, after all, be found out; that she just might not get away with it. The uncertainty adds terrific piquancy to the tale and keeps those pages turning. I’ve rarely read anything quite so compulsive. I read it in two afternoons. I missed two lunches and countless coffees for it. I could hardly bear to put it down at all.

[Deborah Markus · Rating 3 out of 5]

The short review: Hmm.

The details: I have no idea how I feel about this book.

It's beautifully written. It's compelling. I looked forward to the reading time I could steal from a busy day, and was more irritable than usual when my family interrupted me.

But when I got to the end – and it was a good, decisive ending, in contrast to that of Lane's second novel, Her - I felt vaguely dissatisfied. I don't know if that's the book's fault or my own.

I think it must be mine. I'm a terrible shallow reader who likes to be able to empathize, or at least sympathize, with the protagonist. If the protagonist isn't available for that sort of chore, I'd like a friend or family member to pick up the slack. Heck, a distant cousin who flies in for a quick visit would do.

No one of the sort showed up for this novel. I was left all alone in a cold, colorless story that feels as elegant and empty as an unused champagne glass.

The story starts off eerily enough. Frances Thorpe is driving home one night from a visit to her parents when she comes across a car that's crashed. The driver is trapped inside the wreckage, but she manages to make herself heard through the closed windows. Frances calls for help on her cell phone, then waits with the woman, offering what comfort she can via small talk and sympathy.

Before the ambulance can get there, the woman stops talking and starts making pained, frightened noises. By the time help arrives, she's dead.

That would be a life-changing event for anyone. But then, in life-changer #2, the family of the dead woman – a husband and two grown children – ask to meet the young woman who was with their Alys in her last moments and who heard her last words.

And that's where things take a strange turn, indeed.

This book reads like a mystery or suspense novel; but the mystery is why Frances has so little emotional reaction to anything that's happened, and the suspense involves wondering what on earth she's up to.

I don't want to say much because the surprise is very odd – not so much an event as a facet of her personality. I will say that while Frances is by no definition evil, she reminds me a little of Othello's villain, Iago. He was described by Coleridge as "a motiveless malignity" – a seemingly nice guy who destroys lives for no reason.

Frances isn't that sort of destructive force; but it's startling to learn that this woman who seems to spend her entire life drifting aimlessly is exactly the opposite of motiveless.

[Jennifer · Rating 4 out of 5]

This slow burning domestic drama about a sparrow of a woman trying to pass herself off as a peacock reminded me favorably of Ruth Rendell's later work. I admired the author's ability to convey just enough detail about the privileged and luxurious family the protagonist is attempting to gain entrance to through nefarious means. A wonderfully insidious thriller for folks who think they don't like thrillers.

[Carla · Rating 3 out of 5]

After reading the editorial reviews for Alys, Always I was expecting a taut and riveting read. While it has some intense moments-especially the opening chapter-Alys, Always never quite lives up to its billing. The story is about Frances Thorpe, a young editorial assistant (Frances refers to herself as a "sub editor-an invisible production drone") in the books department at a London magazine, the Questioner. One evening while driving in the London countryside, Frances comes across a serious car crash. Although Frances cannot see anyone in the overturned car, she hears the voice of a woman and Frances talks to her, staying until help arrives. The next day the police contact Frances to review her statement about what happened at the crash site, and Frances learns that the woman in the car, Alys Kyte, has died. Although initially denying Alys's family's request to meet with her, Frances changes her mind once she learns that Alys was the wife of celebrated London novelist Laurence Kyte. At her meeting with the Kyte's, Frances embellishes the conversation she had with Alys in her dying moments ("Tell them I love them" Frances falsely claims were Alys's last words) and begins a friendship with Alys's college-aged daughter Polly. Frances uses Polly's grief over her mothers death to ingrate herself with Laurence and his dazzling world of literary high society-people Frances has previously only known through print. Frances is clearly obsessed with Laurence and his lifestyle, and her behavior becomes increasingly erratic in a quest to get closer to Laurence. Polly's older brother Teddy eventually confronts Frances with the "inconsistencies" between the statement Frances gave to the police after the crash and what she told the Kyte's at their initial meeting, but Frances tells Teddy she only added Alys's "Tell them I love them" words to comfort her family. At this point, Alys, Always could become the psychological thriller it was meant to be, but the story losses momentum as Frances and Laurence become romantically involved. None of the characters have the emotional depth needed to carry the story, and the ending is disappointing. Author Harriet Lane's debut novel is sort of a "Fatal Attraction Lite," but it had the potential to be much more.

[Tatiana · Rating 4 out of 5]

Гарриэт Лейн «Элис. Навсегда».

Где-то в окрестностях Лондона живет Фрэнсис – ничем не примечательный редактор «Обозревателя». Жизнь Фрэнсис просто – работа, дом. Мужа нет, друзей тоже нет, с родителями отношения натянутые. Однажды возвращаясь домой от родителей, Фрэнсис замечает странный свет среди деревьев и обнаруживает машину опрокинутую на бок, а внутри машины женщину по имени Элис, которая умирает на глазах у Фрэнсис. Через некоторое время родственники Элис связываются с Фрэнсис и просят о встречи и с того момента жизнь Фрэнсис начинает меняться в лучшую сторону.

Нравится мне эта серия книг! Истории такие простое, но какие та душевные. И эту историю сложно назвать гениальной. Нет тут остросюжетных поворотов сюжета, тайн, крови или преступлений. Сюжет идет очень неторопливо. История мне понравилось, читалось легко и автору удалось увлечь меня. Очень мне понравилось, как автор постепенно раскрывает образ главной героини, как ненавязчиво, то-тут, то там одной или двумя фразами дает нам понять намерения или цели героини. Понравилась сама героиня, без драм, нытья или каких-то страшных тайн – обычная женщина, с небольшой чертовщинкой внутри!

[Victoria Maule · Rating 5 out of 5]

I have just finished 'Alys ,Always' and enjoyed it so much that I was compelled to post my first Good Reads review.This is a wonderful book with an intriguing protagonist and a fascinating plot.The sense of time and place are utterly convincing, and so well observed. I read it over two days in between the chaos of family life and could not stop myself from dipping back into the book at every possible opportunity.I was completely absorbed by the plot and the characters were so well developed that they felt real.It reminded me of the writing of Ruth Rendell as Barbara Vine and Zoe Heller, as others have already pointed out. I highly recommend reading this book, and look forward to passing it on to friends and family.

[Ellis · Rating 2 out of 5]

I suppose I was meant to find narrator Frances Thorpe to be cunning & manipulative, and I suppose I admire her continued attempts to ingratiate herself into the Kyte family even as the son calls her "Thingy," but this doesn't ever really go anywhere. Yes, Frances goes on and on about how good she is at reading people and giving them what they want and controlling them without their knowing, but I kept waiting for the other sinister shoe to drop and it never happened. Her dreams and her ambition and their eventual outcome seemed too small to me to warrant this book She got the guy! Yippee! And yeah, I know, from Laurence sprung a promotion & the envy of others & all that, but I just don't care. I never felt like she really DESIRED any of the things she ended up with.

[The Bookish Wombat · Rating 5 out of 5]

In this first novel, a female newspaper sub-editor finds a car after a terrible accident and stays with the dying driver. The victim Alys’s family later get in touch and Frances becomes involved in their lives.

This is quite a short novel which starts off going in one direction and then seems to take a sharp left turn into a different kind of book completely. The first section, concerning Frances’ near-monastic life, reminded me of Anita Brookner’s novels, where isolated single women try to come to terms with their lives alone, having failed in love. However, the novel then changes to be something more reminiscent of Zoe Heller’s ‘Notes On A Scandal’ – not in terms of the plot, but more that Frances has something of the Barbara Covett about her. Both of these women narrate their respective novels, but neither are reliable narrators and are intent on manipulating those around them for their own purposes. They both want a particular relationship and are willing to do what they need to in order to achieve its, while trying to justify what they’re doing.

Harriet Lane is very successful in writing a character who begins as likeable, even someone the reader pities, but gradually as more is revealed about her we realise how self-centred and sinister she is. Frances shares this secret with us, as no-one in the novel seems to notice the extent of her puppetry of them, or at least no-one articulates this. Frances’ view is that the family has caused its own downfall through being too little interested in what’s going on around them – the reader may wish to draw their own conclusions.

I found this a very impressive debut novel, a character study of a manipulator who gets her own way. I look forward to reading future books by the author.

[Bibliophile · Rating 3 out of 5]

Frances, a single thirty-something London newspaper sub-editor, is one of those people who are convinced that everybody is having a good time behind their back. She feels overlooked at work, excluded from the cool crowd, and looks down on anyone who actually wants to spend time with her (her parents and siblings). Her life doesn't sound that bad to me. It seems easy enough to change jobs, find a hobby, sign up for online dating and read a couple of self-help books. Lucky for us, she chooses the creepy and disturbing alternative and uses a car accident to ingratiate herself to the grieving family of the victim (the victim being the wife of distinguished author Lawrence Kyte). By shrewdly manipulating the teenage daughter, she infiltrates the posh Kyte family and voila, Frances is no longer invisible.

It reads like a psychological thriller with lots of cringeworthy moments. There is a constant sense of unease as you're never quite sure just what Frances is capable of, and the author wisely steers clear of clichéd murderous madness. I appreciated the subtlety, but Frances remained too much of a mystery to be entirely believable. If she is such a brilliant manipulator, why has it taken her so long to use these expert skills? If she is so ambitious and opportunistic, why hasn't she already done something about her career? If she manages to charm the hell out of a bunch of very picky, snobbish people, why doesn't she have any friends? While I see this as a lack of depth, it also means that the character fascinates me enough to want to know the answers. It is definitely worth reading, and I will certainly read Lane's newest novel, Her.

[Damaskcat · Rating 5 out of 5]

Frances is driving back to London from a weekend with her parents in Suffolk on an icy wintry evening when she sees a car off the road. She finds Alys seriously injured and waits with her until the police and ambulance arrive. Frances lives alone and works as a sub editor mainly dealing with book reviews. She enjoys her job but is conscious she is drifting through life. Gradually she becomes involved with Alys’s family and her life changes.

This is a strange book with an unreliable narrator. We never hear anything about Frances’ previous life or even how old she is. I felt sympathy with her and could see why she took the actions she did take even though they were perhaps morally reprehensible. I thought the characters were well constructed – the charismatic author, Laurence Kyte and his two spoilt children, Polly and Edward. Alys herself dominates the book even though she is dead in the first few pages. The book is well written and it kept me reading because I wanted to see what happened to all the characters and whether Frances’ plans – never overtly spelled out – came to fruition.

If you want something a little different in the way of fiction then this is well worth reading. It left me with a sense of unease about the moral ambiguities which surround our daily lives and the way what we say and do don’t always match what is going through our minds. Harriet Lane is an author to watch out for in the future.

[Shelby (readbytwilight) · Rating 2 out of 5]

Set on one wintry and icy night, our MC Frances, is driving through the countryside where she notices a vehicle that appears to have been in an accident. She rushes over to call an ambulance, and ends up spending the last few moments of the single passenger's life (Alys), keeping her company until the emergency services arrive.
Shortly afterwards, Frances is contacted by a Family Liaison officer, who would like her to meet with Alys's family (husband and two grown up kids), to help them with closure. Although reluctant at first, Frances does agree to meet the family. She soon then becomes 'taken in' by this family's charming and other way of life; using the husband as a way of boosting her career, and working her way to a 'better life' for herself.

It's a very short book, but hell does it feel dragged out. Not a single character was likeable, although I think that's pretty much the point. Each and every one of them was selfish in some way; the husband and two kids feeling entitled and spoilt. Nothing much really happens, and I was hoping this was going to be a good nitty-gritty thriller. Unfortunately it's so slow and lacks that intricate plotting that we would typically see in order for it to become a thriller. I wasn't overly bothered or mesmerized by the authors writing, either. Perhaps other readers will enjoy the simplicity of this story, but it just wasn't for me.

[David Rickert · Rating 4 out of 5]

Alys Always is a deceptively complex book. The main character, Frances, witnesses a car accident and, as a witness, comes to know the family in sinister ways. Lane takes you down one road but gradually leads you down a different road altogether as you find out what Frances' motivations are.

Lane makes terrific use out of the first person narrative - she knows exactly what to leave out to create suspense and can use dramatic irony with the best of them. After I finished the book I flipped through it again and enjoyed all the clues that Lane had put in as to what was going to happen later.

[Robert · Rating 3 out of 5]

Alys, Always was a gift. I'm not sure I would have picked up the book in a book shop (the cover looks too chick-lit-y and book-club-y and wistful), but the blurbs and recommendation intrigued me. The book is described as a thriller in some of the quotes, and suspense and psychological drama are hinted at...

...but, to me, it is not a thriller at all. Those quotes set me up for a confused reading experience.

The book starts with the aftermath of a car accident. Right from the start, the prose is rich, descriptions are luscious and filled with metaphorical portent. We're in the head of our narrator, Frances, and Frances looks, looks, looks at things with "poetic" eyes. (I use inverted commas because real poets are often much more matter-of-fact than their reputation when they describe things). I have to admit, the descriptions did not really work for me (an early factual mistake, about the way the shape of shadows changes when you walk away from a light source, threw my suspension of disbelief - and my patience with overly rich descriptions - out of the window), so I must admit to skim-reading many paragraphs of this relatively short novel.


After the accident's aftermath, our narrator, an early-middle-aged office minion working for a literary supplement of a newspaper, finds out that the accident's fatality was the wife of a celebrated author. She agrees to meet the family, to tell them what she saw.

And after that, she makes a conscious decision to become a part of their lives.

I already marked this review as containing spoilers, but if you want to enjoy any aspect of the novel, you should stop reading the review now unless you've already read the book. (And, frankly, you should give most or all of the blurbs on the cover a miss. They will set up expectations. The expectation might colour or taint your reading experience).

So, Frances decides to embed herself into the lives of a recently bereaved family. What makes this a psychological "thriller" is very simply this: Frances does not talk about having any emotions (except, occasionally, fear of discovery - as if her plans are a guilty secret, when, I should think, people like her don't really have sufficient self-awareness to feel any guilt). She comes across as cold and calculating. And she doesn't really reveal what her plans and intentions are. However, her purpose is actually quite harmless: she uses the family to upgrade her own standing. She chooses to gradually make them emotionally reliant on her, and to manipulate the father into falling for her, not because she loves or cares about any of them, but because she wants something from them - prestige, rank, perhaps purpose. Fortunately for her, she has exceptional ability to read people and situations, to pick up all non-verbal communication and understand it, not subconsciously but consciously, and so she embarks on her analytical, manipulative, strategic journey.

It makes Frances almost impossible to empathise with, for me.

It also makes Frances basically an internally male character. If she were a man, she'd read "The Game" and pursue, single-mindedly and without emotional attachment, the purpose of mating with females. She'd be a "player". She is female, so instead she pursues, single-mindedly and without emotional attachment, the purpose of acquiring a mate that will enhance her standing.

Apart from Frances, the novel's main characters are Polly (the daughter of Alys), Laurence (Alys' husband, the writer) and Teddy (the son), with a few minor characters. Honor, the son's girlfriend, also has a small role to play, but almost every other character is so minor that I could not tell any of them apart by their names or their actions.

I can see why readers find this unsettling, but I never got a sense of danger from her. She is manipulative and cold, but not viscious. She does not seem to intend to harm anyone for harm's sake. Is it unsettling to watch a person strategically exploit the temporary vulnerabilities of the bereaved? Perhaps. Is it thrilling? No.

I can see why the book is compared with Talented Mr Ripley (from very vague memory, the basic character is similar, except Frances never cons, never had to kill to cover up lies). I can see why it echoes Daphne du Maurier's Rebecca: Like the narrator of Rebecca, Frances is destined to take up the space left by a charismatic first wife. Unlike Rebecca's narrator, Frances knows this from the start and actively seeks out to fill a similar shape in everyone's lives - she simply decides, after seeing the woman die, that, actually, she could be content with filling her place.

For me, an internally overemotional, externally repressed, socially awkward (but fairly up-front) male, an internally cold, constantly acting, socially hyper-adept (very insincere and fake) female narrator is too far on the opposite end of the scale to be able to empathise and connect, even with first person narration. That, and the rich descriptions, made it a slow read: I only wanted to be in Frances' head in small doses. That said, it's not a boring book and I can recognise writerly craftsmanship, acute characterisation and richly detailed imagination. These things are commendable, and it's not a bad book.

For me, it's a book I can appreciate, but not really love.

(But, should the giver happen to read this review, thank you very much for the gift: I love receiving books and trying new authors & genres when recommended to me - even if it turns out that my literary taste differs a bit!)

[Royce · Rating 4 out of 5]

Unreliable narrators are the best kind of narrators, in this reader’s opinion. Frances had my empathy and sympathy, along with my annoyance and disgust. Frances is a sly fox, and I loved being in her head. Still wondering how she succeeded in fooling everyone, but now I’ve said too much.

[Barbara · Rating 5 out of 5]

Protagonist Frances is driving home Sunday evening after yet another dreary weekend visit to her parents in the country when she happens upon a car that has hit a patch of black ice, flipped off the road into the grass in the forest. She gets out, unsure if anyone could survive, but she hears a woman talking. As she moves closer she can't see the woman, due to the dark woods and windows fogged from inside, but the woman's voice seems calm. Frances asks, "Hey - are you alright?", then uses her mobile phone to call for an ambulance. As soon as Frances completes the call for rescue the woman distinctly asks, "Are you there?". Frances continues to speak to the woman. To Frances' mind the woman's voice seems so pleasant, kind, cultured she does her best to assure her help is on the way as they trade pleasantries. The woman's name is Alys and she tells Frances her husband will be cross about the car, then there's a gasp or cry and slowly the voice is gone, leaving Frances to wonder where in the world is the ambulance!

This story is short, less than 200 pages, but a lot happens in that small number of pages. We find out that Frances is more complex than anyone who knows her realizes. Her coworkers at the magazine where she's a subeditor barely see her as a person, her parents and sister seem to feel pity for her spinsterly, childless state and her "friends" are mere acquaintances, someone to meet for coffee or lunch. We find the depths of Frances psyche are very disconcerting as the story goes on.

The story brought to mind "The Woman Upstairs" by Claire Messud and maybe a little of "The Girl on the Train". Frances wants to be liked and appreciated. Aly's family want to meet the person who spent the last moments with their loved one, but little do they know how Frances will manipulate their kindness for her own selfish gain. A darkly, disturbing psychological thriller.

[Emily M · Rating 4 out of 5]

Oh, I how LOVE unlikeable characters. And Frances is a very, very unlikeable one. Though she is clearly a somewhat unappreciated and lonesome woman living 'on the fringes,' so to speak, she is also manipulative, calculating, unfeeling, and, at times, downright creepy as hell. At her core, though, she is a very hungry tiger and when she finally sees opportunity brewing, she seizes it -- no matter what.

I'm giving this one four stars (4.5, really), simply because I liked Her just an inch or two more. Both novels are exquisite and so, so quietly wicked and I really truly hope Harriet Lane keeps giving us stories in this vein.

[Kirsty · Rating 4 out of 5]

My review of Alys, Always was published in The Times Literary Supplement upon its publication. To whet your appetite, here is a snippet of what I said:

“Alys, Always cleverly shows how… one event ties previously unconnected people together… Lane’s narrative voice is captivating, absorbing the reader almost immediately and throughout the novel’s various episodes of entanglement, separation and high drama. Her use of the present tense means that we are right beside Frances as her story unfolds… and her characters are quirky and believable individuals. Alys, Always is a fine portrayal of how people deal with loss and learn to accept ‘the tinpot vulnerability of human existence’.”

[Rachel (not currently receiving notifications) Hall · Rating 4 out of 5]

Compelling & unsettling tale of ambition, manipulation & social climbing but no psycho thriller..

For Frances Thorpe a thirty-something, bookish sub-editor and pretty irrelevant to all about her, from colleagues to family, her daily routine and uninspiring existence is interrupted when late one Sunday night she comes across the aftermath of a car accident, stays with the victim and is privilege to hearing her final words. Hearing that the victim - Alice Kite - was confirmed dead at the scene she find herself reflecting on the frightening “random luck and lucklessness of an ordinary life”. Asked to consider allowing Alice’s family to make contact in a bid for closure sees Frances initially ambivalent and certain that she can be of little value to the family as she relays the victims unenlightening final words.

Hardworking, albeit practically invisible, to the contributors of the Questioner as she saves them from grammatical errors and does the legwork for literary editor, Mary Pym, behind the unassuming exterior, Frances is decidedly ambitious and benefits from the much underestimated skill of being a good listener as she teases out peevish insights on the shallow nature of the literary world. What makes Frances reconsider speaking to the accident victim’s family is a passing comment from Mary that literary darling and former recipient of the Booker prize, Lawrence Kyte, is intending to forgo publicity for his forthcoming release, Affliction (the latest of his novels chronicling the “terminal malaise of Western civilisation”) on account of his family bereavement. It is then that Frances realises the car crash victim was not Alice Kite but the Alys Kyte, mid-fifties married mother of two adult children and universally adored wife of Lawrence.

But whether Frances is merely intrigued to meet the illustrious Lawrence Kyte, hoping for a brief glimpse into how the other half lives or is desperate to make a connection to the respected literati whose opinions matter is not immediately clear. It is questionable whether Frances herself knows prior to meeting with the family and it is her immediate bond with immature, self-involved and flighty drama student daughter, Polly, that allows herself to slowly inveigle herself into the fold and become an ever-present and respected part of the literary scene as she bides her time and slowly, warily and oh so patiently, shoehorns herself into a plum role. Adept at picking up on social cues, reading emotions and interpreting body language, Frances’ first-person narrative is laden with menace and malicious intent. But whether Frances is unhinged, after a brush with fame or simply another unreliable narrator is a fascination that will keep readers on edge and speculating until the final and frankly disconcerting closing moments.

Harriet Lane’s prose is a sheer delight and is filled with astute observations on the tedious social facade that Frances finds necessary to uphold in order to move in the right circles. From snidely noting that Alys’s cultured voice goes with the Audi she is driving to a running cynical commentary on colleagues and family alike, she makes readily apparent to the reader that she has a shrewd and far darker plan, without ever explicitly revealing her intent until the moment of opportunity arises.

Controlled and precise, this succinct novel is no psychological thriller but a far more subtle and increasingly chilling character study of the ambitions and subtle manipulation of an individual exploiting their proximity to tragedy and playing the long game. Loaded with foreboding, Lane ups the ante with hints that Frances in not all she appears, gives her first-person narrative a disturbing spin and the growing sense of unease is palpable. For me, the tightly wound tension is on a par with Ruth Rendell’s darker works under her Barbara Vine pseudonym and despite not being the psychological thriller that is is billed as, Alys, Always is a restrained tale of achieving the unexpected with a fascinating protagonist who is hard to like but impossible not to admire for her ruthless, tenacious and frankly audacious plan.

Undoubtedly worthy of reading, but most definitely not a thriller, and some readers may question whether it is any kind of crime novel at all. Regardless of these trifling details it is a disturbing and unforgettable read about one woman’s stealthy social climb from non-entity to a respected player... Involving and skilfully constructed.

[Glassworks Magazine · Rating 4 out of 5]

Reviewed by Cherita Harrell on www.rowanglassworks.org.

In Harriet Lane’s debut novel Alys, Always, the reader is introduced to the narrator Frances Thorpe—a thirty something copy editor for a failing London magazine who stumbles on a car accident one night when returning home from visiting her parents. Frances’s actions in the beginning of the novel mimic those of an innocent do-gooder—a person who stops at the sight of an accident, and discovers a victim hidden by the darkness, buried beneath the crushed metal of her vehicle. Frances attempts to comfort the victim, who later introduces herself as Alys, while waiting on the ambulance to arrive. Frances is unaware of Alys’s injuries, and sits with her during her final moments of life—unable to do anything to save her. After Alys dies, Frances returns to her home, haunted by the woman’s death. Once home she takes stock of her surroundings and comments, “You’re not so badly off, are you?” convincing herself that her basic needs have been fulfilled.

The narrator’s actions at the beginning of the story are deeply misleading. Frances is not a genuine, compassionate person, or a Mother Teresa type. She isn’t flooded with feelings of humility and selflessness. Instead, Frances is methodical, cunning, and as the layers of her persona are peeled away, the reader is made aware of her true nature. Frances loathes her mundane life, and she struggles to find an opportunity to sever herself from the reality of her abysmal existence.

After the accident, Frances is pressured by the police to speak with Alys’s surviving family in an attempt to offer them some form of solace. Initially, she is uninterested in participating in the meeting—as she is unaware of how it will prove to be productive for her. It isn’t until Frances discovers that Alys was the wife of Laurence Kyte, a well-known British writer, that she changes her mind and becomes motivated to meet with the family. During the meeting, Frances lies to the family about Alys’s last words, and uses this deceit to agitate their vulnerable emotions. Frances portrays herself as a confidante for Alys in the moments before her death—giving the illusion that the two connected—and attempts to cultivate a bond with the family. It is at this point in the novel that the reader begins to notice the negative aspects of Frances’s personality, and it becomes clear that Frances is anything but innocent.

After meeting the family, Frances decides to attend Alys’s memorial service, and uses her newfound link with the Kyte family to bolster her status at work. By exploiting their developing relationship, Frances catches the attention of her boss who is not only interested in Kyte’s recent novel, but is also intrigued by Frances’s intimate knowledge of the family. By pretending to be a long time acquaintance—Frances positions herself as a social asset to the magazine, and receives a taste of how her life will improve through her affiliation with the Kyte family.

Lane uses the character of Frances to expose the magnetism of social elevation. This isn’t a particularly complex notion—as many stories have been written detailing how the less fortunate, or socially inept, have clawed and connived in hopes of gaining the livelihood of those for whom they are envious. However, what makes Lane’s story fascinating is how Frances sets out to infiltrate the lives of the Kytes. As Frances struggles to maintain her connection with the Kyte family, she uses the grief and vulnerability of Laurence Kyte’s daughter, to manipulate her, and successfully forges a friendship with the twenty something woman. This unlikely union is the first intimation of how deeply Frances is willing to submerge herself into Kyte’s lives, and highlights the parallel between the characters of Frances and Polly, by revealing how each woman deals with their hidden desires.

The friendship between Frances and Polly provides an interesting layer to Lane’s story—as Polly is surrounded by fortune, and able to achieve whatever she wants. She is the epitome of a spoiled rich girl, a young woman whom uses her father’s affections for her benefit. As Frances observes the ways in which Polly abuses the opportunities made available to her by her father’s status, and money, we witness the contrast between a person who is controlled by fleeting desires, and a person who uses their ambitions as a method to dominate others. Lane focuses her story around Frances’s mission to improve her social status, and uses this as a means to expose the consequences of a person motivated by selfishness. By doing this, she provides the readers with an elaborate tale of greed, and outlines the potential dangers that arise when we prevent someone from getting what they want.

As the story further develops it becomes evident that Frances does not simply hope to gain a piece of the Kyte lifestyle; instead she plots to become a permanent fixture. Frances’s persistence in breeching the family’s inner circle is what heightens the suspense of the story—as the reader watches her vacillate between having her agenda exposed, and attempting to fill the void Alys left behind in her untimely death.

The imagery Lane incorporates in her writing speaks to the contrasting elements present in both Frances’s life, and the Kyte's lives. As Frances trails from the shadows of her world and into a circle dominated by money and power, Lane uses the setting to further connect the reader with the disaster that is Frances’s uninspiring life. At one point in the novel, Polly visits Frances’s after she is too drunk to return home. Frances surveys her home before Polly arrives, and notes the “dispiriting mess: the drifts of old newspapers, the undercoated shelves, the Rothko print in a clip-frame propped by the radiator” as well as the mismatched furniture that litters her home. Lane uses Frances’s belongings to reveal the depths of her normalcy, and provide the reader with an understanding of why she is desperate to elevate herself socially, and why she is specifically drawn to the Kyte’s rich and fruitful lifestyle.

As Frances attempts to solidify her connection with Polly and her family, she uses her visits to their vacation home to fuel her fantasy, and wonders how her life would be if she were Alys. Frances roams through Alys’s home, surveying her surroundings, and wondering what it would mean if all of Alys’s belongings were hers. Lane writes, “Just for a moment, as I stand by the sink peeling a long rosy spiral from the yellow flesh of an apple, I think about all of this and what it means to me”, revealing that Frances not only wants to embody Alys—her end game is to steal her life.

Alys, Always published by Scribner is a quick read—only 224 pages. However, this is not to suggest that Lane’s story lacks any substance. Alys, Always explores the irresistible temptation of ambition—how it corrupts absolutely—and it adeptly explores the dark corners of the human psyche.