I’m intrigued by the reviews giving low ratings to this book on the UK site. I’m getting old and picky, so it’s not often that I find a book that I “can’t put down”. This is one of them.
One gripe from the knockers is that Freya is not a very pleasant heroine. Well hello? It’s a novel; it’s not a hagiography. I think she’s great.
Another gripe I’ve read: it should cover a wider range of historical journalistic topics of the post war period. Hello again? It’s not a history book. It’s a novel about a journalist. A fictional one.
I loved the flawed characters, the slowly unfolding story, and the high quality of the writing. The evocation of post-war Britain was excellent. I was a Kiwi exploring London off and on in the early 1960s and the writer managed to take me back there, even though that time was just before he was born.