Welcome back, readers, and settle in with a hot mug of tea and jam fancy for this month’s book review of The Hazelbourne Ladies Motorcycle and Flying Club (aka THLM&FC).

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Start your engines…

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While THLM&FC is the heaviest book in this year’s list so far (not that my new-found upper body strength is complaining) it is not for slow reading, offering an engrossing mix of adventure, struggle, friendship and romance with a heavy dose of Austenian sharp social commentary that we’ve come to love, and expect, from the English.

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Set in 1919, during the aftermath of WW1, Constance Haverhill is a captivating character whose pluck and determination are sorely tested in her efforts to find a paying job of respectability. Although she has proved herself more than capable, Constance is turfed out of her current position due to a new law being implemented for all paying jobs to only to go to men returning from the war.

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Without any marriage prospects on the horizon and the recent death of her mother, Constance has little choice in becoming a chaperone for Mrs Fog (the mother of her former employer/family friend – it’s complicated) at a cozy seaside hotel at Hazelbourne-on-Sea.

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Nothing to take the sting out of impending poverty like a little beach vacay.

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But not all is lost for our heroine as she is soon swept up by Poppy Wirrall and her family; high society people of means, but who have also felt the war’s effects. Poppy, being on the industrious side, has started a taxi and delivery service and club run by women motorcyclists and engineers. Intrigued, Contance signs up, although the vast differences between her reality, and that of the more well-off members are felt.

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Despite the invisible barriers of wealth and class distinction, there is a spark between Contance and Poppy’s brother Harris (Darcy alert!) who is trying to push against the public perception of being ‘a helpless invalid’ due to a war injury. His skill and knowledge as a pilot is underestimated by potential employers, but Poppy is keen to get him in the air again to offer flying lessons to women.

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Cue much pearl-clutching and monocle-popping* by their peers at such an idea!

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Spurred on by their critics, the livelihood of Poppy’s blossoming business is soon put down to a wager that will culminate in more twists than a box of old Christmas lights!

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THLM&FC is, if I do say so myself, a smashing choice for fans of historical fiction, Anglophiles and engine buffs alike. Helen Simonson creates an evocative sense of time and place that puts you right in the shoes of Contance and Harris, but she doesn’t romanticize the past. Sexist, elitist and racist attitudes permeate the novel, serving as motivation from the minor twits to major villains encountered, and the horrific mistreatment of migrants is shown through the reoccurring character of Klaus, a German waiter whose storyline will break your heart.

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Without revealing too much, there is some comeuppance, with a few notable mike drops worthy of Dame Maggie Smith:

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“I may not have a home to keep going anymore, but I’m certainly not going to lay around all day in despair. I think that’s reserved for people wealthier than I.” [Contance to Harris, who has made a terrible first impression, page 18]

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“Tilly Mulford may be upset, but she is not one to hold a grudge. She has more of a sense of fair play in her little finger than you men apparently do in two heads.” [Iris to Harris, who has put his foot in it again, page 349]

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“Americans are like that, you know. Like to strike a hard bargain … They distrust the word of others because they do not feel bound by such bonds of character themselves.” [Mrs Fog, about the heinous Percival Allerton, page 339]

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And scathing asides:

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“The man is delightfully torn between his desperation to talk all things India with me and his certainty that our being here is an utter violation of club rules. His confusion is quite disarming.” [Captain Kumar Pendra, pages 90-91]

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“She thinks she’s a prin­cess in a castle and we are all her serfs. I swear Evangeline is enough to make one understand the revolutionaries in Russia … You are worth twice a Morris girl, which is why they probably had to have two of them.” [Poppy, page 287]

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“The blue baby carriage they call a motorcycle was a custom gift from Newcombes.”

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“I wouldn’t ride that thing if it were the last transportation out of hell.” [Tilly and Iris, page 135]

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So, sit yourself down and prepare to be transported by The Hazelbourne Ladies Motorcycle and Flying Club!

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(*I’m aware monocles were out of fashion at this point, it’s an expression.)