Novels No. 76

With the advent of a new computer plus Windows 11, I struggle with tech changes—trying to find familiar stuff; at least half my bookmarks missing. Welcome to 2025.

Simon Mason. Missing Person: Alice. UK: riverrun/Quercus, 2024.

Talib is a “finder,” a person gifted in tracing lost people; an ex-cop, he is contracted by a police force to concentrate on a specific case, in this instance, Alice Johnson age twelve who went missing nine years ago. Local cops think Vince Burns abducted/killed her, a man presently in custody for a similar crime. Burns will not confess, but enjoys playing verbal games with police. Talib rents a bed and breakfast room from Mrs Wentworth to make Sevenoaks his base. His investigation covers all the former witnesses, and then some—the divorced parents, neighbours, father’s girlfriend, school mates and staff, and a few strangers who’d seen Alice the morning she disappeared. It’s essential that he get to know, even understand, the missing person. In fact what Talib ultimately does is painstakingly reconstruct that fateful morning, and the possible clues in Alice’s life that led up to it.

Always impassive in his interviews, Talib collects conflicting opinions about Alice herself. Basically he is forming an image of a girl emotionally struggling over divorced parents who paid little attention to her, a solitary girl normally comfortable in her own skin. Even the tiniest interaction she’d had with or near another person adds to his building of her personality and thoughts. While the police are dragging a nearby lake, expecting to find her body, Talib’s search has gone so far afield they are rather dubious about him. Clearly he keeps his own emotions in check regarding his discoveries, and in particular, his quiet inner admiration of Mrs Wentworth is never manifest.

This book is not only about parent-child relationships and misunderstandings, it reflects the effect of Alice’s disappearance on all the people she came in contact with. Author Mason gives us a freshly different aspect of a police procedural on missing persons where death is so often predictable. Yet his protagonist remains a man of mystery.

How various informants viewed Alice:

▪ “Looks to me like the sort of girl who likes pretty things. Don’t you think? Make herself look good, smell nice.” (16, Burns)

▪ Mrs Johnson said that from an early age, but especially after the divorce, which Alice had found so upsetting, her daughter, by nature rather young for her age and timid by nature, had needed protecting; (39)

▪ When Alice was small, he said, she reminded him of a small fierce creature, she was headstrong and fearless ... Yes, she was an absolute wildcat, he said. (51-2, Dad)

▪ Alice’s teacher had described her as withdrawn but self-sufficient. (74)

▪ The poor girl was struggling with the separation of her parents; she needed her father’s attention. (74, Dad’s ex-girlfriend)

▪ He remembered how angry she’d looked when she talked about her father’s girlfriend, her mouth snarly and her face all scrunched up. (129, nephew of last homeowner to see her)

▪ “She bared her teeth at me. It was the weirdest fucking thing. And I tell you what. I was scared. Even though she was smaller than me.” (136, schoolmate)

▪ Small, Pauline said. Sort of undernourished-looking. (176)

▪ Whenever Beth asked her a question she didn’t want to answer, Alice just held her gaze and stared her out in silence, not aggressively but with complete self-control. (193-4)

Belinda Bauer. The Impossible Thing. USA: Atlantic Monthly Press, 2025 (UK: Bantam, 2025).

One of the most fascinating, entertaining novels in some time, brilliantly executed by Bauer. Imagine a world a hundred years ago where savvy collectors were obsessed with owning eggs—rather than, say, precious artwork or jewellery. Eggs from wild birds, like the guillemots that nest on the Yorkshire cliffs over the North Sea. Prized for their colour variations and uniquely individualized patterns, the eggs are gathered by local men swinging cautiously on harnesses against the cliff faces (and angry birds). George Ambler is the most important broker for collectors, and one day he is stunned by the magnificence of an egg harvested by tiny Celie Sheppard of Metland Farm. An impossibly exquisite red colour like no other. For many years Celie provides him with rare red eggs—“the Metland Egg”—laid twice annually by the same bird that only Celie’s slender shape can reach on a dangerous overhung cliff. But strangely, no one sees these iconic eggs after Ambler presumably sells them on.

In the present day, Nick Morgan is robbed of just such a Metland Egg, found in his late father’s belongings. He and his friend Patrick are young men naive in many ways, but quick to learn about egg collectors as they hunt for the thieves. Dr Chris Connor is a curator at the Natural History Museum; Matthew Barr is a dedicated but grubby gatherer and collector; Finn Garrett is a bird conservation/protection militant. From them, Nick and Patrick hear that the legendary broker Ambler had been murdered, along with tales of famous collectors, and that possession of wild bird eggs is now illegal. And still, no one knows where the most coveted of all eggs are hiding. So many surprises to come!

The wonderful characters pull us into this amazing story and its settings, based on real events. Lively, dramatic, absorbing, with comic input from the Patrick-Nick duo, it’s no less than captivating. Bauer is a magic wordsmith!

Bits from the Past

▪ For the first time since he was four years old and Tobias had pushed him off a pony, George Ambler felt tears spring to his eyes – so moved was he by how much money he was going to make. (53)

▪ Celie was terrified of the houses on wheels that emerged screaming from a plume of grey smoke, and at first refused to get on the train because she thought it was on fire. (107)

▪ He hadn’t thought of it, but Ambler having sold the egg to royalty would explain it. The lies. The secrecy. (169)

▪ Every manner of securing the Metland Egg while also punishing Celie Sheppard and her family for their lack of respect was toyed with and honed, while all the time his sense of having been cheated and humiliated burned so fiercely that by the time they passed Sheffield he was incandescent. (247)

Bits from the Present

▪ “Jeez, Patrick. Don’t sweat the small stuff. We just go there, tell him we know he took the egg and demand he give it back.” (77)

▪ “Somebody stole that egg from the bird that laid it. Now somebody has stolen it from you. Sounds fair to me.” (95)

▪ “The RSPB is committed to halting this disgusting crime and we hope you will send a clear message to Matthew Barr, and others like him, that there is nothing scientific about stealing an egg, drilling a hole in it, and then killing the chick inside by pouring acid over it.” (91)

▪ “Old eggs are particularly sought after because, if you have data showing that the egg was collected before the 1954 ban, then it can be legally owned.” (133)

▪ “You don’t sell ‘em,” Barr snorted without looking up from his scrolling. “I’d sell my granny before my eggs!” (159)

▪ “All he cares about is eggs. It’s an obsession. He can’t help it. He’s sick. They’re all the same, these collectors.” (186)

▪ “Jeez,” said Nick, “who knew the world of eggs was so cut-throat! Just as well you got out of that car, or you could be dead in a ditch by now.” (201)

▪ “If I screw it up, we’ll both get caught!” Nick rubbed his nose nervously. “Why can’t you go in and steal the key and stall Chris?” (254)