trennels | Readthrough: Run Away Home, Chapters 9-11 (Reply)

As someone who has always liked hanging about in graveyards, I'm wary of ascribing too much to the Infant Dodds' predilection for it, but nonetheless it is poignant, especially Rose's mistaking of cherubim for sunflowers. Their fragility is also implied by the way they react to mention of Edward after his rebuff of their plans. Fob steps into the breach, however. There's a nice echo of the events of Attic Term in Nicola's misgiving about involving a younger girl, and also of End of Term in remembering that name-tapes can betray the unwary. I'm tickled by Peter's observation that Lawrie and Nicola are 'never both sensible over the same thing', because it's so very nearly true, though here, apparently, he's wrong: Lawrie doesn't seem at all bothered by the idea of changing with Edward present. Giles and Rowan are forced to give some thought to what happens if Lawrie is caught: Rowan's injunction to 'stay dumb' seems a bit optimistic, given what we know, for example, of Lawrie's behaviour in the police station in The Thuggery Affair.

Patrick, rather amusingly, resents his very minor role: his talent for crime is underused in this book. And some foreshadowing in the talk of candles and St Jude.

Ann's exclusion continues to be rather painful, and Peter's reflection upon it 'wasn't sure he hoped he be there when they told her or not', really rather brutal. His implying that Rose and Chas rather than Fob relayed the message is, with hindsight, an ominous sign of a tendency to change plans and not keep everyone fully in the loop.

Giles and Rowan's journey down to Bacca Cave is full of ominousness too, though I can't help feeling that the Forest of twenty years before might have made something rather more atmospheric of it. I like Rowan's sense of foreboding as she watches the liner, though.

Nicola's dress is clearly a sort of miracle garment, capable of making even Peter concede she looks good, but the reflection that 'it was probably the only dress she'd ever have which would make her look really super' seems pessimistic for age fourteen and a half.

Patrick's feelings toward Ginty really do seem to have curdled, given the 'unaffable' look. His relief at his subconscious, but definitive, ending of the relationship is Forest on merciless form, I think: I was reminded this time of Nicola's much more muted and guilty relief of the cooling of her friendship with Esther. It's interesting that she compares it to his manner after the gymkhana, which he won at Rowan's expense.

Poor Ginty! Ann's forgetting the birthday suggests considerable upset and perturbation on her part over the Edward row and her probably continued sense of exclusion. Her concern over the dress does seem a trifle over-scrupulous at this stage, by contrast. The chapter ends on a wince-worthy note, with Giles's brusque reminder of just who's coming into Trennels. Giles's daughter in Aunty Nicky's early-80s vintage is surely worth a ficlet?

Lawrie's qualms begin to show: not without reason, as it turns out. There's a nice sense here of the improvisatory nature of even the best-laid plans (which this one is not), as indicated by Rowan's 'there's always something you have to play by ear'. The evidence of Edward's unpopularity is the more effective for it being Lawrie who experiences it, I think. And, oh dear--Lawrie gets carried away in her role as monkey.

I'll leave most of the discussion of Judith's appearance to the comments, but I think it's very effective--her slightly cack-handed sympathy with Karen ('"You've got your troubles too"') is particularly touching, I think. It's a nice touch that Rowan has to stage a sort of mini-kidnapping of her own sister right after the bombshell of realising that Edward's mother is human (is my grief containable? No, I think I feel pretty sorry for everyone concerned). And there's something very horrible about Lawrie's predicament, being pawed and teased by her 'jailers', too. (I sense Bryan--a neat thumbnail character sketch--might grow up to be one of the worser sort of policemen or prison officers, somehow.)

The quixotic Merrick sense of honour is working at full tilt in Patrick's suggestion that, the plan goes wrong, his father would prefer him to be caught along with the Marlows than sneak out of it. (You know, I'm not so sure about that, Patrick: not after he managed to get his Home Office chum to quash the whole heirloom-knife-in-murder-victim's-back-and-cocaine-supply huha, not to mention the comparatively picayune business over the Maths O-level.) The fate of the monkey suit is lucky, isn't it? Imagine if that fortuitous pyracantha hadn't been there. Patrick and Lawrie having a rare moment of mutual liking is fun, as is 'Phyllida Ashley.' The irony of Rowan literally (but not metaphorically) 'turning her coat' after her moment of serious misgiving appeals to me, too.

Poor saddle-sore Edward! Interesting that he seems to get on relatively well with Nicola. Again, though, I feel Forest at the peak of her powers might have made more of the atmosphere of a night-time ride. Edward is delivered to Giles and Peter, and all seems deceptively promising for his escape. I believe this is the moment at which, in the original draft, Mr Buster went to his eternal reward?

Nicola passes a pleasantly sedate day after the disappointment of Patrick being hauled off for his Broomhill interview (the latter worth a short fic, maybe?) Ann's worry over Edward's welfare seems to attract authorial disapproval ('one with the worriers') which again seems a bit unfair.

U-children and U-dogs have dinner in the middle of the day, of course, but I (about as non-U as they come, admittedly) sense this convention was well out of date by the time of the novel, and even within the convention, surely even Nicola and Lawrie have been old enough for evening dinner for a couple of years now? Lawrie's experimentation with punk style then seems particularly out of step with it. I like the contrast between Lawrie's kind of 'nerve' and Nicola's implied in the latter's reflection on it, though.

No sign of Giles and Peter... but anything can happen at sea. And often does.

...and that's it from me.