A Bird in Winter by Louise Doughty (Faber, £16.99)
Doughty’s 10th novel is a slow burn: for quite some time we have no idea why fiftysomething Heather, also known as Bird, has left a meeting in her Birmingham office to go on the run. Using multiple disguises, Heather hides out in a variety of locations in Scotland, Norway and Iceland, with the story taking us back and forth in time until we understand what has brought her to this point: her mysterious father; her army career; the severing of her most important and enduring friendship; the bad decisions that led her into jeopardy, and her essential aloneness. The “hunted woman” narrative is certainly pacey and propulsive, but A Bird in Winter is also a compelling study of trust, and the contradictory desire both to escape and to be found.
A Line in the Sand by Kevin Powers (Sceptre, £18.99)
The third novel from US army veteran Powers, author of the acclaimed The Yellow Birds, is set in Norfolk, Virginia. Arman, an Iraqi granted American residency after serving as an interpreter for the US military during the war and surviving the assassination attempt that killed his wife and child, is now working in a motel. When he discovers a man’s body on the beach after an early-morning swim, the cops soon realise that there is a connection not only between the corpse and Arman’s former life, but also with private military contractor Decision Tree, currently in contention for a lucrative government contract. The quality of the writing may be patchy, and some of the characterisation tends towards the stereotypical, but Powers excels at action sequences and delivers a strong message about the long shadows cast by war and the corrupt nature of the military industrial complex.
My Husband by Maud Ventura, translated by Emma Ramadan (Hutchinson Heinemann, £16.99)
Told in the first person and unfolding over the course of a week, this debut novel, winner of France’s Prix du Premier Roman, is the tale of an unnamed woman’s obsession with her husband of 13 years. Her passion is such that she takes little notice of their two children (“most of the time I’m too busy being in love to be a good mother”), spending her time overthinking and second-guessing his every utterance and choreographing her own, seemingly nonchalant moves. Intelligent but socially and emotionally insecure, she laboriously teaches herself etiquette and combs women’s magazines for advice – but also devises punishments for her man’s real or imagined infractions, such as a too-perfunctory kiss on greeting or a supposed humiliation during a silly dinner-party game. Her responses range from mild gaslighting – moving his keys – to infidelity. Imagining that he will leave her, her behaviour becomes increasingly neurotic and reckless. The final twist may not be to every reader’s taste, but My Husband is a clever, unsettling and, at times, funny tale of unhinged marital devotion.
Case Sensitive by AK Turner (Zaffre, £8.99)
The third book in Turner’s excellent series set in Camden Town in London and featuring goth mortuary technician Cassie Raven starts when a dead body knocks against the hull of her narrowboat home. Intuitive and caring as well as clever, Cassie is something of a “corpse whisperer”, but feels that her connection with the dead has deserted her when the body – an unidentified male – refuses to give up any secrets. It does, however, seem to be decomposing at a far more rapid rate than is warranted, and when DS Phyllida Flyte pays a routine visit, she’s certain that she’s met the guy somewhere before. There’s an ongoing will they/won’t they vibe between Cassie and Flyte, who, as the sole woman on a team of men, is constantly having to deal with sexist micro-aggressions. When the deceased’s identity is revealed, Flyte becomes increasingly uneasy about which of her fellow officers she can trust. Expertly plotted and well researched, with an appealing central character and a strong supporting cast, this series is not to be missed.
The Turnglass by Gareth Rubin (Simon & Schuster, £16.99)
A tête-bêche, or head-to-tail book, usually contains two works by different authors, printed back-to-back with one upside down, so that the volume has, in effect, two front covers (not, of course, that any of this will be apparent on an e-reader). The Turnglass contains two stories by the same author, one set in 1880s England, in a solitary house on a desolate island off the Essex coast, and one in 1930s California; they are not only linked, but self-referential, featuring a tête-bêche novel at their heart. The publisher’s note says that this book may be read in either direction – or both at once, alternating the chapters – but, on the grounds that intrigue is preferable to bafflement, I would suggest reading in chronological order for an intricate and thoroughly mesmerising tale of family plots and schemes across several generations.
