I really loved An English Murder by Cyril Hare when I read it the Christmas before last, so I was excited to pick up his novel When the Wind Blows for the 1949 Club this week, hosted by Kaggsy and Simon.

The story opens with barrister Francis Pettigrew in a self-congratulatory mood, having married a younger, affluent woman. But his music-loving wife Eleanor is no doting push-over:

“Pettigrew had, of course, taken a ticket for the concert; but it was not until the morning of the event that he learned that he was expected to attend the rehearsal as well. Eleanor broke the news to him at breakfast, while they were discussing the arrangements for the day.

“Mr. Dixon asked me at the party yesterday whether you could come,” she remarked. “You were busy talking to someone else at the time, but I told him that you would be delighted.”

“I wonder how you guessed,” said Pettigrew thoughtfully.

“Honestly,” Eleanor persisted, “it will be quite amusing, and I know you haven’t anything else to do.”

“To answer your second allegation first, I had promised myself a delightful day with the current Law Quarterly Review. There’s an article in it entitled ‘Prolegomena to Pufendorf’ that simply cries out to be read.”

Eleanor’s brilliant blue eyes expressed the liveliest sympathy.

“Do take the Quarterly with you to the rehearsal then, darling,” she said. “You needn’t listen if you don’t want to. Shall I fetch it for you? I think it’s still where you put it last month to prop up the leg of your dressing table.””

Eleanor is part of the local orchestral society and somehow Pettigrew has been drawn in too, with all their internal politics and tensions. There’s a brilliant scene of one of their meetings whereby the reader is introduced to the main characters: Mrs Bassett, obsessed with Debretts and, for reasons no-one really understands, also fairly fixated on the conductor Mr Evans; Mr Dixon whose wife is expecting their first baby, just as his inheritance comes in for a large estate; and Mr Ventry, a cad and a bounder.

At a party to welcome the guest of honour for the upcoming concert – violinist Lucy Carless and her husband – tensions run high. New first clarinettist Tadeuz Zbartorowski knew her before in a tangled history, and she also used to be married to Mr Dixon. Pettigrew is frustrated:

“He felt that he had been pitchforked into a business which he did not in the least understand and about which he really cared nothing, merely through yielding to a fatal impulse of good nature. Why had he ever allowed himself to be connected with the confounded Orchestral Society? Why had he consented to come to the rehearsal, instead of staying quietly at home, reading the Prolegomena to Pufendorf? He was feeling distinctly allergic to clarinets, and didn’t care two hoots whether Mendelssohn’s violin concerto was played with one of them or two, or none. What was more, he was morally certain that nobody in the audience would notice the difference.”

It doesn’t take much guesswork to decide that Lucy Carless’ days are numbered, and she’s found strangled with a silk stocking in her dressing room. Enter Inspector Trimble and Sargeant Tate…

It’s here that I started to enjoy When the Wind Blows less. The set-up is great, the characters well-established, and there’s plenty of humour. Hare was a judge, and very knowledgeable about music, and this shows too. The difficulty is, Pettigrew is his detective and he more or less disappears.

While Inspector Trimble stumbles, Chief Constable MacWilliam brings in Pettigrew, reputation established from previous crime-solving (this is Pettigrew’s third appearance, but I didn’t feel a lack of having not read the others.) We’re told that Pettigrew pretty quickly has the whole thing sewn up, but the explanation happens in a conversation the reader isn’t privy to. To work out motive and means, the reader needs to know mid-twentieth century law, David Copperfield, and the orchestral arrangement of Mendelssohn. I managed one out of three 😀

It’s a bit odd and unsatisfying but there’s still plenty to enjoy and I definitely wouldn’t want to put anyone off (there are plenty of enthusiastic reviews on Goodreads). The characters, readable style and humour carry it through. I particularly enjoyed a cameo appearance by Jenkinson, the clarinettist who was supposed to fill in but was sent on a wild goose chase to a neighbouring village and is distinctly unhappy about it:

“”To add insult to injury, the fellow suggested that I should, as he put it, ‘join the boys’ and take part in, and even add to, the hideous riot of cacophony which had by then broken out in another part of the building. After disabusing him of this idea, which was not easy, I set about looking for a conveyance to bring me here. There appeared to be no cars to be obtained in Didford Parva, and I was eventually reduced to waiting in a queue … for the local omnibus, which finally brought me to the door of this police-infested place. That is my story, sir, and if its recital has been as valuable as its experience was distressing, it should rank as the most important piece of evidence ever recorded. Have I your leave to go?””

So, a wee bit disappointing after the heights of An English Murder which is probably my favourite GA mystery so far. But I still enjoyed this and I’d be interested to read more Hare and meet Pettigrew again.

To end, for people around my age, When the Wind Blows will always mean one of the most harrowing viewing experiences of childhood: