Hardscrabble romance in Cape Breton
NANCY WIGSTON Women’s lives can be brutal: we need only look around. In this, her tenth novel, Lesley Crewe shines a light on the secrets and lies that bind generations of Cape Breton families. First, we meet Nell, a creative girl, unloved and angry. Despite or because of the tragedies that unfold in Nell’s life and in those connected to her, reading Crewe casts a kind of spell, like listening to your Granny tell old tales over cups of tea.
Orphaned by a car crash, Nell becomes known in her small town as the “spinster on the hill,” living an existence both paradisal and claustrophobic. Surprising events result in the arrival of another orphaned child, named Bridie, whose childhood mirrors the operatic twists typical of the disastrous state of Cape Breton’s roads.
Our focus switches to Bridie’s Sydney childhood, peopled by an array of familiar characters types: the jealous stepmother, the mean older sister; the loving housekeeper. Sharing the wild hair and spunky personality of Anne Shirley of Green Gables fame, Bridie is both desired and resented.
There is one constant amid all the ensuing drama: the comfort of food. Cooking — especially baking — looms large in Cape Breton, where a lemon meringue pie such as the one Gran makes is more than just a pie; it’s almost another character.
An ambitious girl, Bridie defies both expectations and stereotypes. When she transforms Nell’s house into a successful B&B, she gleefully names it The Spinster on the Hill. By the early 1970s, the times they are a-changin’ — even in rural Nova Scotia.
If there is something of the bodiceripper in Crewe’s final chapters, balance is nevertheless maintained with addictive pacing and clever knowingness. When a character comments on wildhaired Bridie’s latest drama, “It’s straight out of a Harlequin romance,” it’s as if she’s read our minds. Yet, after so many ups and downs on so many bumpy roads, what’s wrong with that? Not a thing.