The Tea Gardens
It is one thing to write a historical novel but quite another to present that story in language so naturally redolent with airs and tones of the time that the reader experiences a live travel journal. As such, this is a remarkable example. Set initially in 1930s England then predominantly in India, Dr Isla Fenwick, independent intelligent maternity specialist, belatedly betrothes herself to childhood crush Jovian Mandeville, then travels alone to a Calcutta hospital to pass on her medical knowledge, meanwhile attempting to avoid the forbidden TB ward where lurks not only that dread virus (from which her mother died) but also the complicated, enigmatic dish that is Saxon Vickery, professor and tempter.
The first-person narrative is personal and intimate yet somehow objectively presented, achieving a rare level of reader involvement as Isla rationalises consecutive dilemmas and growing awareness of the folly enticing her. She knows that even smart girls fail occasionally, so how can she possibly wriggle out of this, especially with the added attraction of Vickery’s Darjeeling tea gardens themselves beneath the majestically spiritual Himalaya backdrop? Detailed characterisation of the antagonists’ angst-filled relationships is divulged with a lightness of description as effortless as it is persuasive and enthralling. Intriguing lesser players feature prominently as memorable and meaningful. The author draws often from a deep well of local background knowledge; prevailing geographical, historical and social information runs throughout – women carried bundles of coal on their heads to refuel Indian steam engines. The author’s kempt prose can be summed up using the same words with which she describes the South Kensington house where Isla grew up, “Not overtly showy but leanly elegant…” And as if this excellent story wasn’t enough in itself, a tasty-looking teacake recipe awaits in the afterword. Put the kettle on!
