With her career as a London barrister in shambles, Frankie Richmond, while falling in love with a sultry lounge singer, finds her life thrown into further turmoil when she is accused of murder. Reprint.
Elizabeth Woodcraft was born and grew up in Chelmsford. She became a mod at 13, worked in the Milk Bar at 15, and danced to the music of Zoot Money, Georgie Fame and Wilson Pickett on Saturdays. This is the world reflected in the stories in A Sense of Occasion.
She took her suede coat and small collection of Tamla Motown records to Birmingham University where she studied philosophy. She then taught English in Leicester and Tours in France. After that, she moved to London where she worked for Women's Aid, the organisation which supports women who suffer domestic violence. Women's Aid helped to bring about a change in the law - the Domestic Violence Act of 1976 - and Elizabeth's experiences during that time led her to retrain as a barrister.
During her time at the Bar she represented Greenham Common Peace Protesters, Anti-Apartheid demonstrators, striking miners and Clause 28 activists, as well as battered women, children who have suffered sex abuse in and out of their homes and gay parents seeking parental rights.
She has published two crime novels, featuring barrister Frankie Richmond - Good Bad Woman and Babyface (Harper Collins). Frankie Richmond's collection of Stax and Motown records is to die for. Good Bad Woman was shortlisted for the John Creasey Award for Best First Crime Novel, and in the US won the Lambda Literary Award. The reviewer in the London Times said about Babyface, 'Move over Rumpole.' A third Frankie Richmond novel - Crazy Arms - is on the way.
Throughout her life, Liz has been writing, plays and stories, and she has always kept a diary. Her book A Sense of Occasion, published in 2014 is a collection of short stories about 4 working class girls living in the 60s. Her latest novel, Beyond the Beehive, continues the story of best friends Sandra and Linda, in the year 1965.
She is an occasional newspaper reviewer on BBC Radio Essex and recently appeared in the BBC East show ‘Living in ’66 – Pop, Pirates and Postmen,' talking about life as a mod girl in Chelmsford. She taught BBC Radio 6 DJ Steve Lamacq how to do the mod jive.
With her partner, she divides her time between Paris and London.
Because the protagonist of this book, Frankie Richmond, is a London barrister, I had expected this to be a courtroom drama. Not so, Margo. Instead, it is a very literate novel that delves deeply into the dual system of lawyering in the U.K. without getting too technical. The mysteries take place outside the courtroom.
Frankie Richmond is a struggling barrister in her mid-thirties. Her chosen field is family law, which is much less lucrative than criminal law, but it enables her to help women in need without having to be assigned to represent rapists or child abusers. In the beginning of the book she is assigned to a case involving Saskia Baron, a young woman she has represented in the past for participating in protest marches. It is a simple plea job and Frankie successfully gets the woman out of jail. But when violent things began happening around the girl—and around Frankie and some of her colleagues—Frankie knows that there is more to Saskia’s arrest than she has been told.
As the story unfolds, Frankie meets a vixen of a singer: Margo Lattimer, who she pursues avidly. Yet it seems like Margo has something to do with Saskia too. And when Frankie gets arrested for murdering Margo’s ex-husband, she has to call on her former lover for legal help. The interaction of all these women is fascinating and their eventual relationships are well worth the time spent. The book, at over 300 pages, is a bit longer than most lesbian mysteries, but I enjoyed every page.
Although I generally shy away from books that hint at police corruption—it is too easy a vehicle to solve plot problems—the crimes in the book, and their solutions, are easy to believe. To put icing on the cake, the dust jacket illustration, which depicts a beautiful blonde smoking a cigarette and staring at a voluptuous woman in a red dress, is smoking hot. Music, in fact, permeates this book like the cigarette smoke on the cover, as Frankie is an avid fan of all Motown music, and often remembers lines from songs to illustrate her various predicaments.
It’s odd, but in trying to formulate this review—and even as I was writing it—I had trouble finding proper words, even proper topics within the book, that might convince a reader to buy it. I’m not sure why I failed. Maybe it is because the book is more literary than most, moving the story with characters rather than plot twists that are either silly or totally outré. But the review is what it is. I liked the book very much and have ordered the second in the series. Maybe when I read it, I will have more to say about this one.
Another Note: This review is included in my book The Art of the Lesbian Mystery Novel, along with information on over 930 other lesbian mysteries by over 310 authors.
Because the protagonist of this book, Frankie Richmond, is a London barrister, I had expected this to be a courtroom drama. Not so, Margo. Instead, it is a very literate novel that delves deeply into the dual system of lawyering in the U.K. without getting too technical. The mysteries take place outside the courtroom.
Frankie Richmond is a struggling barrister in her mid-thirties. Her chosen field is family law, which is much less lucrative than criminal law, but it enables her to help women in need without having to be assigned to represent rapists or child abusers. In the beginning of the book she is assigned to a case involving Saskia Baron, a young woman she has represented in the past for participating in protest marches. It is a simple plea job and Frankie successfully gets the woman out of jail. But when violent things began happening around the girl—and around Frankie and some of her colleagues—Frankie knows that there is more to Saskia’s arrest than she has been told.
As the story unfolds, Frankie meets a vixen of a singer: Margo Lattimer, who she pursues avidly. Yet it seems like Margo has something to do with Saskia too. And when Frankie gets arrested for murdering Margo’s ex-husband, she has to call on her former lover for legal help. The interaction of all these women is fascinating and their eventual relationships are well worth the time spent. The book, at over 300 pages, is a bit longer than most lesbian mysteries, but I enjoyed every page.
Although I generally shy away from books that hint at police corruption—it is too easy a vehicle to solve plot problems—the crimes in the book, and their solutions, are easy to believe. To put icing on the cake, the dust jacket illustration, which depicts a beautiful blonde smoking a cigarette and staring at a voluptuous woman in a red dress, is smoking hot. Music, in fact, permeates this book like the cigarette smoke on the cover, as Frankie is an avid fan of all Motown music, and often remembers lines from songs to illustrate her various predicaments.
It’s odd, but in trying to formulate this review—and even as I was writing it—I had trouble finding proper words, even proper topics within the book, that might convince a reader to buy it. I’m not sure why I failed. Maybe it is because the book is more literary than most, moving the story with characters rather than plot twists that are either silly or totally outré. But the review is what it is. I liked the book very much and have ordered the second in the series. Maybe when I read it, I will have more to say about this one.
Final Rating: 4.8
Note: This review is included in my book The Art of the Lesbian Mystery Novel, along with information on over 930 other lesbian mysteries by over 310 authors.
I read the sequel to this first, without realising it was a sequel. Quite interesting reading them this way round, and entirely feasible since there were no spoilers in the second book. Like that second book, this one features a highly improbable and somewhat convoluted murder mystery in which right-on lesbian lawyer Frankie gets herself entangled and then arrested. In between times she drinks copious quantities of Chardonnay and though she's supposed to be practising at the Bar it doesn't seem as though she needs any practice, ha ha ha.
I could take or leave the actual plot - which hinged rather precariously on Frankie's right-on conscience, clearly more right-on than mine as I couldn't understand why she just didn't leave well alone. What I liked about the book was the sardonic humour and the insider's view of the life of a barrister, even though she doesn't do a great deal of proper work in this one. Moreover the world she inhabits - where all women are gay and all men are pigs (perhaps a tad exaggerated but that's how it comes across at times) is just skewed enough in comparison with the world I inhabit that it qualified as superb escapism. Not expecting jaw dropping storylines, but I hope there are more in this series.
It's been a while since I've read it, so I re-read it to prepare for the second in the series. It seemed hard to get through the second time around, but I think that is because it's very British. There's a lot of talk of levels of legal representation and the British legal system that I'm not too familiar with, so I found that distracting.
2.5 stars. I wasn't really taken with the main character, so will probably not read any more in this series. I need to learn more British legal terms. What's the difference between a barrister and a soliciter?