If you’re anything like me, you like British movies with sassy old ladies or gay men of any age (basically, The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel was like my mothership). And therefore, you too will know who Celia Imrie is and gasp in delight that Auntie Una (of Bridget Jones’s Diary) left sieving her gravy long enough to write a book.
“Surely not, just stir it, Una” has got to be my favorite line from that movie (uttered of course by the dishy Colin Firth as Mark Darcy, but I digress).
On to the book: Not Quite Nice is sort of an Agatha Christie meets-cute with the Best Exotic Marigold Hotel with a dash of the British show Vicious. With less snark. Poor Theresa is a sad, pathetic doormat of a granny who has just been let go from the job she enjoyed and is now facing a future babysitting her spoiled monsters of grandchildren and being bossed around by her terrible daughter. It’s quite sad, really. Then, she decides to move. She moves to France. She stumbles into a cooking class to make a bit of cash, and she finds brand-new friends and lots of wine to color her sad life into something much more kaleidoscope. And then, thievery takes place. Hijinks ensue. And what of the mysterious man who enters her life?
This was a nice bit of fun after some of the heavier works I’ve read. I wouldn’t call it super highbrow, but it’s not supposed to be. It’s perfect for vacations or the beach or just when you want something different. I liked the mystery, and I also liked that Theresa began to find herself as a person.
