A Grand Orchestral Score : All About Evie By Matson Taylor

After a hefty dose of more gloomy choices (war and such like), I had decided it was time for a little light relief and as if on cue, along came All About Evie, Matson Taylor’s second book (I had obviously missed the first), following the life of Evie Epworth. Brought up on a farm in Yorkshire - she knows her way ‘round an udder clamp and a rectal thermometer’ - Evie is now living the high life in London, in her flat, above the Haberdasher’s.

Written from the viewpoint of the eponymous Evie, the novel opens in the summer of 1972 with her working at the BBC on Woman’s Hour, no less, a job which comes to a swift halt after an unfortunate incident which I shall not relate here. She wants to reinvent herself and finds a job in an art gallery. It is perhaps alarming that I realised long before she did, that she should not touch the flower petals on the floor, let alone sweep them up into a dustpan but fortunately, Evie soon realises that an art gallery is not for her, despite having ‘the best swirly chairs in Mayfair’. She moves on to the offices of the magazine Right On! (above a sex shop) where she thinks she might be able to channel her inner ‘Robin Day with Zandra Rhodes’. She settles in as a Listings writer (and errand girl and tea maker), with her posse of new colleagues. I loved ‘Nickwithcollars’ with his theatrical flair, and could cope with ‘Nickstickupbum’ who eventually surprises us with a smile, but Griffin was a real piece of work, despite the ‘botheration of patchouli and wonky fringe’. Variety is the spice of life, however, and these are only three of the ensemble who share Evie’s life.

Catherine and Digby are a delightful couple, very modern in their outlook, confident and adventurous and more importantly, they look out for Evie. Lolo is a warm-hearted Welshman with a love of opera; he works for Radio 3 and it is only a misunderstanding which threatens his burgeoning friendship with Evie – one which is happily put right by the end, as they become ‘two lighthouses…beam to glorious beam’.

Genevieve, or ‘Zharn. Vee. Ev’ as she wishes to be known in an attempt to reinvent herself for life in London, is a breath of youthful fresh air from home, who arrives in search of a career in the fashion world – and is there anywhere better to start than London, staying with Evie? Despite the Common Market, the nearest she’ll get to France is her mum’s ‘soft spot for Sacha Distel’. Most important, however, is the power of friendship.

Although a child of the seventies, Evie (who is somewhat older than me) and I are dissimilar in so many ways - I mean, who liked Butterscotch Angel Delight? Yet we share so many traits and it was easy to quickly become immersed in the life, voice and humour of Evie, and in the period, with iconic references to Mary Quant, Biba and Joni Mitchell, platform shoes and hot pants. Evie doesn’t forget home either and Yorkshire is pretty much embodied in references to Bolton Abbey, Betty’s and the Yorkshire Post among others, as well as the down to earth Doris Swithenbank. Life certainly ‘does not pass quietly by for Evie’.

Every so often, her commentary on life is interrupted without explanation, with a time shift away from 1972, back twenty years, with snapshots of Catherine Macleod, soon to be Gordon and soon to be bored, as the wife of the local doctor in Scotland – at least her father approved. We are also treated to insights into the glorious though recently deceased, Mrs Scott-Pym, in her final months. She looked after Evie after her mother died, and we share Evie’s sense of loss, however ‘not being alive doesn’t stop some one from being part of us’ and Mrs Scott-Pym has left very precious memories for Evie. Trust me, it does all make sense by the end.

And latterly, there was for me an echo of the end of the film Notting Hill, in the frantic car journey trying to stop someone from leaving; Taylor even injects humour into this scene, another delightful misunderstanding which those with a better knowledge of Icelandic music might not have fallen for. I did, and don’t mind admitting it.

Opera lovers may not appreciate the interpretation of the performance of La Bohème as much as I did, or Evie’s description of ‘shouty singing’ and ‘plinky plonky’ music, and fashion lovers may raise their eyebrows at Genevieve’s designs – but after all, these were different times; I had a pair of inflatable arm bands once, but they didn’t look like that! There is a wonderfully atmospheric description of a café in Naples, appealing to all the senses, and another of the theatre at Covent Garden and, and, and...

Taylor’s style is wonderfully conversational, with a couple of kennings thrown in, a good sprinkling of triplets so favoured by the English language, and not a few ‘double negatives.’ Absurd asides generate laughter and wry faces as we recognise something of ourselves in the observations thought, if not always expressed.

I may have missed his first outing but I look forward to the ‘next, new chapter’ in Evie Epworth’s life – ‘something new…something different…something wonderful’.