The two main characters of this novel are Olivia Sweetman and Vivian Tester. A third character is the lowly dung beetle. Yes, you read that correctly.
Professor Olivia Sweetman is a historian, teacher, writer, popular and plausible to all who know her. She's well dressed, attractive, mother to three children and wife to David, a writer whose star is fading as he struggles to write a follow up to his first successful book. Vivian Tester is a nobody. 60 years old, spinster, bulky, frumpy and altogether the complete opposite of Olivia, she is the housekeeper at Ileford, a strangely ugly country house owned by the Burley family. Their paths cross one rainy day when Olivia visits a small museum in Sussex, and Vivian, working at the museum that day, shows her a diary. It is written by Annabel, a Victorian woman who apparently confesses to murdering her husband and immediately enrols in medical school.
Desperate to write a book about Annabel, Olivia persuades Vivian to become her researcher. Both women are manipulative liars, locking horns frequently and generally being unpleasant to each other most, if not all, of the time.
Vivian has an obsession with beetles – dung beetles in particular – and Olivia has a connection with them as her late father, an Oxford professor, found fame after discovering some hitherto unknown facts about the little creepy crawlies. Now, I'm a fan of living creatures, large and small, furry or feathery, two legs or eight, or anything in between, I don't care, but the frequent references to beetles, dung or not, is a bit over the top and could well have been pared back with little or no effect on the rest of the story.
Occasional clunky, contradictory and childish writing irritated me: weather referred to as “boiling hot” is something I would expect from a child not an adult. Ileford is at once described as ugly, then as stunning. Vivian is described by Olivia, at least twice, as being “on some spectrum somewhere”; this in itself is a nonsensical statement. At times the sequence of events is confusing, as it's difficult to know whether what you're reading is a recollection or something happening in the here and now. As for the twist, it's actually fairly easy to spot quite early on, but it takes pages and pages and yet more pages, before the author finally reveals all.
The title of the book puzzles me, as the “night visitor” is almost an aside. There are too many holes and unanswered questions, particularly about the Incident in France – did the author forget to connect the dots, or just decide it didn't matter? Certainly she couldn't have cared about the ending as it came to an abrupt full stop. Just like that.
If you're a dung beetle, you'll love it.
Thanks to Amazon for an ARC