“We feel sure that the young people of Hillingdon will welcome a new feature in our columns, devoted exclusively to their interests. To-day we launch a children’s page, and we want it to be reader-written. The first issues cannot be, but as soon as possible the results of literary competitions will provide the greater part of the material used. We are convinced that there is sufficient talent in this city to fill a weekly page with stories, poems, articles, and sketches of good standard. Prizes will be generous, and every encouragement given to the young writers and artists. Cousin Rosemary will be a friend to all of them, and she will, we know, receive a very warm welcome. All success to her and her Hillingdon Club!”

 

These are tempting words to an imaginative orphan and ones that inspire her to create a new identity for herself. Lintie Oliver, the most mischievous resident of St Anne’s Orphanage, reinvents herself as Lynette Hope, prize-winning writer. Submitting stories, articles and plays under a nom de plume result in colour and excitement flooding into her drab life. The Two Linties is the story of her double life as she grapples with unhoped-for success and the chance to change her own life and help her friends realise their dreams. Out of print since the 1950s, Clare Mallory’s rare novel is a gentle tale of childhood life in New Zealand.

 

 

 

 

 

This London story was first published in 1939 and appears to have been one of those novels that was forgotten after the war once there was sufficent paper to begin thinking about reprinting titles. The title's beautifully clear and you're drawn into a world of City life that's as recognisable to any commuter or City worker today, even if City rents aren't low any more. It works, I think, because it's an enjoyable family story with an uncommon subject at its heart. How many people even today are familiar with the layout of the City - how many just walk past Cannon Street station and don't even look up at the splendour of St Paul's on the daily commute? I try, though the dragons fade into the background after a while, striking as they are. London in your lunch hour probably won't include Wren churches or sandwiches in the parks - most of us manage a quick coffee or a wander around shopping before dashing back to our desks. My office has daft pigeons wandering in circles around the guttering - Redlich has them pottering about around the roof of the cathedral. The only thing I would have liked to do while researching and putting this book together was to visit a Lyons Corner House. I'm told that some could be spectacular and doubt that the interior of a modern coffee house would strike me in quite the same way.