What is it about Valentine, the black postulant nun, that causes strange things to happen, or to seem to happen, the miraculous and the tragic, and what is the magnetic power that she seems to hold over men?
Released from the order to test her vocation, she is sent to live in the 27th kingdom, actually a pre-gentrified 1954 Chelsea, in the final home of the Rev. Mother’s much-travelled Russian émigré sister Irene (to be pronounced Irina) and her nephew Kyril.
In truth, the Rev. Mother is rather afraid of her new charge – a thaumaturge she calls her, a worker of miracles – and we never quite learn whether this is a power she exercises wilfully, unconsciously, or simply in the minds of others.
Whatever it is, it sends one man to his death and nearly another, and yet there is a serenity about her presence. “There was about Valentine something of the ease and relief of a ghostless garden at dusk,” Irene concludes.
The aunt has an old-fashioned, aristocratic view of the world, but moderated by progressive ideas about women, religion and capital punishment. In a memorable line, she recalls how the army shot cowards: “Homeopathy, surely, carried to its wildest extreme.”
The writing is darkly funny throughout, with little darts that made me laugh. “I like your hat,” her char tells Irene, who immediately retorts, “What’s wrong with my hat.” Just one line that tells a lot about both characters and their relationship.
The story treads delicately between the real and the fanciful, in the habits of this displaced bohemian household, of their neighbours the drunken major and his long-suffering wife, and of the criminal O’Connors.
To a modern audience, this 1982 parody may seem patronising with its exaggerated working class attitudes, farcically absurd beliefs and cor blimey dialogue.
Yet the surreal comedy has enough to amuse and keep the reader guessing – will the devilishly handsome Kyril seduce the saintly Valentine, will the taxman (or whoever he is) finally grab Irene, will Focus the cat, with a view of the world as silent and detached as that of Valentine, get his rat?
We are left with the unexplained, and finally with a wink from Ellis that she’s just made it all up for fun. And isn’t that the point?