Zut alors, Barbie V. You have done eeet again. I will never be done loving your ominously dropped hints.
Ok, I almost never do this but I need to quote you part of the blurb on the back. Some prelim: Ivor is an up-and-coming government person (of the Britishy sort that I don’t really understand but which involves Commons and division bells and things) and Hebe is his slutty married mistress, and it’s her birthday. Ivor gives her a present (see: title), and then AND I QUOTE: Years later, this gift will ruin his career, his family, and his life. DO YOU SEE THAT, PUBLISHING INDUSTRY??? That is how you blurb a book.
I really don’t know what else to tell you. That’s sort of it. I mean, that and some intriuge and (potentially) mistaken identities and threatening men in leather jackets and a bit of bungled blackmail (with hilarious [but also sinister] results). And I could go on about the foreshadowing and the suspense and the incurable wit but this is Barbara Vine. It would be like telling you that chicken noodle soup has noodles.
Oh Barbara! You are so simultaneously high-brow and trashy! I am not ashamed to read you, but neither am I put-upon. Never, ever change.