3.5★
“‘Girls like you end up working on their backs,’ the Sister had told her. ‘Wilful girls. Wicked girls.’ This from a woman who couldn’t keep the excitement from tugging on the corner of her lip when called upon to dole out the Sunday beatings.”
Just because Sister doled out Sunday beatings doesn’t mean she was wrong. Violet Kelly and her twin, Iris, were given to the orphanage by their mother at birth, and when the book opens, Iris has disappeared and Violet, as predicted, is earning a living at La Maison des Fleurs in Paddington, an inner suburb of Sydney.
The madam is Madame, an Irish woman who affects a French accent, throwing in the occasional French phrase, who took Violet in and taught her some of the tricks of the trade. Violet is gorgeous and a quick learner.
“The strategy worked. Now, some months later and well into the winter of 1930, Madame had noticed a pleasing surge in the takings of the house. Violet Kelly was quite simply raking it in.”
Albert is the local butcher’s apprentice, who was also raised in the orphanage with the twins, and he has stayed close to Violet. We know early that Iris got out of the orphanage somehow but left Violet and Albert behind, never contacting them again. Violet claims to be angry and unforgiving
“But the thoughts came creeping back: was Iris sitting in a pretty room, reading the newspaper, searching for her sister? Was she the head of a smart household, admired by a dashing husband for her cleverness, her kindness, her fine manners? Was she a model citizen, fair and wise? Violet hated to admit it, but she wanted to know. Desperately.”
They are twins, after all. The times were as harsh in Sydney in 1930 as in the rest of the world. People were camped in parks and open spaces (not unlike they are now, a hundred years later, sadly), living on rabbits (not today) and whatever they can steal. Violet and Albert are lucky to have landed on their feet (or back, in her case) and know it.
When Xiao Zhu, a powerful Chinese business identity from Madame’s past, arrives with a delivery, the story takes a dark turn. Madame is stunned to see him.
“Xiao Zhu spoke quickly, before she could recover herself sufficiently to demand an explanation for his unexpected appearance. ‘Ah, good. You’re here.’ He raked his gaze over the expensive carpet, the fine glasswork of the chandelier. ‘I hardly recognise the place . . . or you.’ Now she felt his gaze travel her body, taking in her garnet necklace and the fine lace trim of her dress. ‘I believe they call you Madame now.’
He turned away abruptly, ending any opportunity she might have seized to question him. He opened the front door and nodded to someone waiting in the street.
Madame peered over his shoulder. Two men were bundling a cloaked figure from the back of a sleek black saloon car parked on the street in front of the house. She saw a flash of scarlet embroidered slippers as the figure stumbled up the steps towards them.
Xiao pulled the cloaked figure into the hallway and closed the front door again. The hood of her cloak fell away and Madame found herself staring at a beautiful young girl: an almond-eyed Celestial, whose face was etched with fear.
Madame steadied herself against the wall and opened her mouth to speak, but instead a ragged cough escaped her lungs.”
I’ve quoted this long passage as only one example of the general writing style. It feels like scriptwriting. If you’re interested, go back and read it as stage directions. For me, it gives the sense of a simplified story written for young people, for whom I think it would be fun. It’s descriptive but spelled out. It’s something that I noticed so often that it interrupted my reading. When a completely unbelievable (to me) romance was introduced, I pretty much skimmed the rest.
I liked the original premise of the story, and I think the history, language, and mood seem appropriate for the time. I reckon there are young readers who could really enjoy getting a taste of historical fiction with this. The sex scenes, and there are a few, are described but not erotic or sensational.
For other readers, I don’t think Phryne Fisher has anything to worry about.
Thanks to NetGalley and Allen and Unwin for the preview copy from which I’ve quoted.