I'm sorry to say that a dear friend of mine, Eileen Dewhurst, has died at the age of 96. The above photo dates from 2005, by which time she'd retired from writing, but she published twenty-five novels between 1975 and 2003 as well as several short stories which appeared in anthologies that I edited for the Crime Writers' Association and its northern chapter. I met her at the first CWA annual conferences that I attended, and shortly after that she introduced me to her agents, Watson, Little Ltd, who have acted for me ever since. So I'm very grateful for that alone. Mind you, it was slightly characteristic of Eileen that no sooner had she recommended them to me than she left them for another agency, a move she told me later she regretted.
Eileen didn't always enjoy the best of luck with her career, but I felt that she had a great deal of potential as a writer, some of it fulfilled (notably in the short stories), some perhaps not. Her best books include A Private Prosecution and Death in Candie Gardens - the latter benefits from an excellent setting in Guernsey as well as a clever plot idea. Her personal favourite was The House that Jack Built, a complex novel inspired by her love of Coronation Street: she got to know the cast of the soap opera when it was in its prime, and really enjoyed the experience.
I felt that Eileen's writing tended not to get the attention it deserved (as she did!) and I wrote about her work for both the third and fourth editions of 20th Century Crime and Mystery Writers. I encouraged her to think in a focused way about her career and to consider writing a historical mystery novel, a form at which I think she might have excelled, but she never got round to it. One handicap was that she had no interest in self-promotion, and hated public speaking, even though when she gave it a go, she was good at it. In fact, the very first library event I ever took part in was at library in Liverpool with Eileen, John Wainwright, and Roger Ormerod (another of her friends) and she was in great form.
Eileen was educated in Liverpool and at St Anne's College, Oxford, where she read English. She was a born writer, I think, although she didn't have a novel accepted until she was in her mid-40s. That book was published by Hale, but then she was taken up by Macmillan, a more prestigious imprint, and although that relationship didn't last long, her next move was to the perhaps even more prestigious Collins Crime Club, where her editor was the legendary Elizabeth Walter. Many of her books were published in the United States. For a short time we shared a publisher, Piatkus, and a brilliant editor, the wonderful Kate Callaghan.
I spent many happy hours in Eileen's company and I can safely say that she was one of the most interesting people I've ever met. She had great charm, and a pleasing sense of humour. She also had many enduring friendships (often with fellow crime writers such as Celia Fremlin and Bob Barnard - she felt more at home in this community than in any other) but she also experienced more than her fair share of insecurities - her marriage, for instance, lasted only one week, which by any standards is remarkable.
The last time I saw Eileen was a few days before the first lockdown. I took her out to lunch in her home town in Birkenhead and we had a lovely time together. During the pandemic, however, her health deteriorated, while (a terrible fate for a writer) her eyesight was severely affected by macular degeneration. She spent her last years in a care home in poor health, but her cousins in particular proved a tower of strength in those difficult times. It was very poignant when I went to join them in Eileen's flat, when it was being cleared of her belongings. I was very glad that it was possible to arrange for a special copy of The House that Jack Built to be beautifully bound as a token of her long-standing enthusiasm for the CWA, and glad too that she knew that had been done. I shall miss her.
No comments:
Post a Comment