Early reaction to The Standing Stone on the Moor

My new book is now released, and beginning to attract some positive reviews.

"Another jewel in the Talbot crown" says one and, "a wonderful tale, rich with characters, that pulls you into life on the moors" says another.

Although it forms part of the Talbot saga, the books stands easily alone.

The place of The Standing Stone on the Moor in the Talbot chronology

I wrote the final book in the saga, Tall Chimneys, first of all. That book spans a century from 1910. My next visit to the curious old house was The House in the Hollow, set at the time of the Napoleonic War. The Lady in the Veil takes up the story from 1835, when William IV, an often forgotten monarch, was on the throne.

This new book was an attempt to fill the gap between 1835 and 1910. It was a big ask. Too big, as it turns out; the novel begins in June of 1845 and finishes the following March. But, one character does make the link. A child in the book, she will be a mature lady in Tall Chimneys. So, I'm taking that as a win!

What is the book about?

The book features siblings Beth and Frank Harlish, who, you may remember, are the youngest children of Tom and Sally, gamekeeper and kitchen maid, who made their appearance in The House in the Hollow. Brother and sister now manage the old house, but the Talbot family rarely visits and frankly, its something of a thankless task. While Frank is content nurturing the grounds, Beth is restless. She feels she was educated for better things.

Beth Harlish was an anomaly. She was low-born but well-educated. Her manners and speech were refined but she was comparatively poor, having only the stipend paid out by the Talbots to support her. She must work, and that work was not of any trivial kind—a house as large as Tall Chimneys did not run itself even when there was no family at home. Beth was ladylike but not a lady. Her superior accomplishments meant that the cottagers and farmers’ wives who should have been her natural associates were wary of her, and yet few of the more elevated families in the district would notice her. Her conversation was good, and she could read aloud, play the pianoforte and draw quite well, but her wardrobe was sadly lacking, and of course she could by no means return any hospitality that was meted out to her.

Enter the Irish!

The year is 1845, and with the potato famine at its height, the British mainland saw an enormous influx of refugees fleeing that terrible crisis. Yorkshire was no different and, as the story opens, a group of Irish people have made a camp next to the standing stone. The bring all the richness of their culture, especially music and dancing. Of course they also bring the baggage of trauma and suffering. Leaving home under such circumstances can never be easy.

Beth is powerfully drawn to their leader, Ruairi, although she knows he is a charmer.

While the locals treat the refugees with suspicion, Beth and Frank befriend them. Frank falls under the spell of an exotically beautiful young Irish woman, Aoife, and the Harlishes find themselves more and more at odds with their neighbours, forced to defend the Irish to the extent that when winter bites and the refugees begin to think about moving on, Beth and Frank must decide whether to stay where they belong, at Tall Chimneys, or throw their lot in with their new friends.

But what is the book really about?

Good question! I always say that what a book is about is not necessarily the same as what happens in it, and that definitely goes for this book.

The Standing Stone on the Moor is about displacement - that is, the feeling of being out of place. This theme is most obviously illustrated by the Irish characters, who are patently out of their usual environment but who, more importantly, are made to feel like strangers; other; foreign.

Then there is Beth, neither fish nor fowl, slipping down the gap between the richer, better-heeled folks of the area and the workaday farmers and labourers. In this location she meets Stephen Milton, a poor but well-educated engineer. They are both critically aware of their anomalous circumstances, neither one thing nor another. "A fish," they agree, "be it in ever so small a pond, is still happier than a fish out of water."

Finally, I introduced a delightfully obnoxious character, Peregrine Somersall. Once a lowly mine foreman he has, by tyranny, wily maneuverings, cheating, lying and sheer ambition, managed to clamber his way to great wealth as a mine owner. While has the authority and the money, he lacks any kind of wisdom, humanity, grace or compassion with which to temper the great power he now wields. Remind you of anyone? His blundering, bombastic manner, the way he bullies his poor hapless wife and coerces his weak, well-meaning son provide a bleak kind of humour, but beg the question: how could such a man be permitted to get into such a position?

In this extract, Mr and Mrs Somersall arrive, uninvited, at a summer party held by Beth at Tall Chimneys.

'Who is in authority here? What member of the family can you summon to greet me? I am Somersall, I tell you.’

His wife ventured to join them on the steps of the house. ‘Oh, Peregrine,’ she said, reaching out a tremulous hand. ‘We are not expected. I told you it would be so.’

He shook her off. ‘But we will not be turned away, Mildred. Herbert is here, and his prospective bride, and I have Talbot’s blessing to look the girl over and by God I will look her over.’

Beth began to take stock of the situation and to gather her wits. She essayed a smile. ‘I am sorry to say that there is no member of the family present, sir. I am Beth Harlish. I have the honour to be Mrs Stockbridge’s representative—’

‘Representative!’ Mr Somersall blustered. ‘Hardly. My man of business, intimate though he is with my affairs, would hardly venture to elevate himself by such a title; and you, I apprehend, have not the confidential understanding of your mistress’s concerns as he has of mine.’

‘I am in charge of the house,’ Beth insisted, speaking loudly, ‘in her absence. However little I may deserve such an honour.’

Somersall regarded her narrowly, and then took in the drive—gaily illuminated by torches—and the rooms he could see beyond the hallway—candlelit now, and arrayed in all their splendour. ‘And you entertain your friends, do you, in her absence and no doubt at her expense?’ he asked contemptuously. ‘I do not know when I have ever heard of such presumption. I am a man well acquainted with the overreaching audacious impudence of some members of the lower orders; but this, I think, takes the biscuit.’

‘Sir,’ cried Beth, very angry. ‘You mistake entirely—’

‘Mistake? No, not me. Not Peregrine Somersall. I am no doubt a man who makes many things, but I am not a man who makes mistakes. Now, as to my son. Is he here?’

Beth breathed in through her nose, summoning fortitude. ‘He is,’ she said stiffly. ‘And he will be fetched.’

Mr Somersall said, ‘Fetched,’ you say? I think not. I am not the kind of man to be kept waiting on a driveway. I insist upon being shown inside, and properly received.’

He would have barged past her, but that Beth stepped neatly to one side and said stiffly, ‘By all means, sir,’ and was able to usher him into the hall. ‘Ma’am,’ she added to the timorous Mrs Somersall who cowered on the step. ‘I am Beth Harlish. I think perhaps your son may have spoken of me.’

‘Indeed I believe I have heard your name mentioned, and,’ in a very confidential voice, ‘I do apologise for the intrusion.’

Mr Somersall yelled, ‘Mildred!’ and she hurried in his wake.

The sound of music and the children’s voices permeated from the terrace. Mr Somersall followed them, but not without crossing the thresholds of the library, music room and drawing room to take quick assessment of their size and appurtenances.

‘I do not wonder Talbot never comes here,’ he observed. ‘What poky rooms. Where is my son?’

They entered the dining room and stepped out onto the terrace, which was the only area of the grounds to have any sun at that point in the afternoon. It was in Mr Somersall’s eyes and so he did not immediately see the gathering of people on the shadowed lawn. Only their chatter alerted him to the presence of some dozen people, but it faded to silence at his appearance.

He squinted into the sun, raking the company with his censorious eye. ‘I don’t know you, or what manner of people you are, although by the evidence of these beggarly children I ascertain you are not people of quality. You will know me, no doubt. I am Somersall.’ He looked along the terrace, where a table and two vacant seats caught his eye. ‘My wife will take tea, if any can be procured, and I will have brandy-and-soda.’

Where can you buy a copy?

Right here! There are links on the book's page here on the website from where you can purchase the eBook directly from me or from your usual online store. Likewise, there are choices for the paperback. Amazon or Books.by both offer print-on-demand. Please do not forget to leave your review when you have read the book.