When you need a book to be a security blanket, as I did this week, you could do well to turn to the work of D E Stevenson.

This isn’t her best book; it isn’t a book that would stand up to very much scrutiny; but it is mid 20th century romantic fiction done rather well.

Katherine Wentworth was a young widow, living in Edinburgh in the most genteel kind of poverty, and bringing up a teenage stepson and two young twins. She missed her husband terribly, but she knew that he would have wanted her to carry on and to make a happy home for their family, and she knew that was the very best thing for her to do with her life.

She did well, and I found that I liked Katherine and her family – her sensible step-son, and her adorable twins – very much.

Over the course of one spring and summer a great deal happened.

Katherine met Zilla, an old school-friend. She was surprised at how delighted Zilla was to see her, as they hadn’t been close at all; and as she saw more of her she was disappointed that Zilla didn’t appreciate that lifestyle and choices that her wealth gave her, or the lovely home that she shared with her brother. That brother became a good, supportive friend to Katherine, and he clearly enjoyed visiting a family home, forming a lovely relationship with her children along the way.

When Simon, Katherine’s step-son, came home from school for the holidays received an invitation from his father’s family. Katherine was concerned, because though her husband had said little about his family she knew that he had not come from a happy home and that he had never had any thought of building bridges. She and Simom talked about that, and they decided that they would go as a family, leaving the twins with her aunt.

After what happened there, Katherine was glad that seized the chance of a family holiday, in a cottage in the Highlands. It was idyllic, her twins, Daisy and Denis, were in their element, and their mother loved seeing the enjoying themselves, as well as enjoying her own escape.

But, of course, real life – the good things and the bad things – caught up with Katherine, allowing things to be tied up nicely and the story to reach the conclusion that I had been expecting from the start.

That ending was a little rushed but it was a very good ending; a proper conclusion but plenty of potential for a sequel.

The story is predictable. I correctly predicted how each character’s storyline would play out as soon as they appeared; and I spotted so any familiar elements that appear in so many of D E Stevenson’s works.

But the emotions were real, and they rang very true. D E Stevenson was very good at emotions, and at families, and at places.

Storylines and character’s fates played out exactly as I wanted them too, but there was just enough depth to the story to make it interesting; and I have to admit that I rather like this idealised era when the war was long ago, the modern age was far ahead, and the world was so much simpler and nicer.

Some of the characterisation is less than subtle; and the parts of the story that deal with bad behaviour and mental health suggest that D E Stevenson had little experience of that side of life and didn’t do much in the way of research.

I’m inclined to think that she sailed blithely past those things because she liked Katherine and her family, and because she wanted to reached the Highland setting that she so clearly loved.

That allowed me to do just the same; and I have to say that this was a definite case of the right book at the right time.

Oh, this really should be a play!

Picture, if you will, the opening scene.

On a beautiful spring day, a young woman –  Julia – wearing a white dress and a large straw hat with a sapphire-blue ribbon that exactly matches her eyes, is sitting on a bench in Kensington Gardens. She is waiting for her fiancé to arrive.  A handsome young man – Stephen – sits down beside her. He is a stranger but he charms her, explaining that he is there to ward off unwanted attention, and that he will absent himself the moment. And he does just that ….

Julia was waiting to make an important announcement to her fiancé  – Morland. She had decided to leave home, to find lodgings, and to find a job to support herself, so that she wouldn’t be dependent on the allowance her father gave her. They weren’t close, they never had been, and though Julia’s young stepmother was bright and friendly Julia knew that a step-daughter had never been part of her plans. And so Julia’s plans made perfect sense; a little independence before matrimony, when Morland secured an essential promotion.

Morland was not impressed, but Julia held her ground. And – as you would expect in a D E Stevenson novel – things fell into place very nicely. Julia secured a lovely attic room in a boarding house run by the wonderful Miss May Martineau, a theatrical lady who usually let her rooms to theatrical folk. Miss Martineau took a shine to Julia, even finding her a job in a hat shop, where the proprietor, Madame Claire, took a shine to Julia – who had a natural aptitude for the job and who could speak French with her – too.

Such wonderful settings and characters!

Life wasn’t perfect – Julia had to deal with jealous co-workers, and with Moreland who was still not at all pleased with her – but she coped. With the help of Stephen, her new best friend ….

That was the end of the first act. The story was poised beautifully.

I would love to see it as a film, but it would also make a lovely film. A musical even – something like ‘The Umbrellas of Cherbourg’ ….

It had been delightful to meet such a fine cast of characters, to have the story play out just as I would have wanted, and to have it written with such a sure touch; I loved the mix of humour, romance and intrigue.

The intrigue revolves around a real blue sapphire, but I don’t want to say too much ….

But the start of the second act Julia left all of that behind.

A  letter arrived, from her father’s estranged brother in Scotland, asking Julia visit him before he dies. Moreland told her not to go, she knew that her father wouldn’t approve, but she went anyway. She knew that it was the right thing to do.

Julia fell in love with Scotland, and with her uncle. He became the father she had never had, and she became the daughter he had never had. But, though his spirits were high, he was growing weaker. He was dying ….

The second act was nearly as lovely as the first, but I had some reservations.

It took time to adjust to the change in pace; I missed the buzz of London and, though the new characters I met were lovely, I did miss the others that were left behind.

And the contrivances became more noticeable – the speed with which Julia became part of the family and the community, the way she was able to extend her stay without having to worry about her job or her room, and one or two other things I won’t mention because I really am trying not to give away too much of the plot. I expect contrivances in D E Stevenson novels, but these were a little too much, and some of the pieces fell into place rather too quickly.

To her credit though the author didn’t try to tie up all of the loose ends. Indeed she left so many dangling that I wondered if she had planned a sequel or simply lost interest. I know Miss Martineau makes an appearance in ‘The House on the Cliff’ but that’s all I know ….

But I did get the ending I wanted – the ending that I could have predicted a long time before it happened.

Every time I read one of D E Stevenson’s books I think that she was my mother would call a ‘people person.’ That she loved people and she loved writing about them.

That makes her books so very readable.

 I am so pleased that I read this one, and that I saw  Julia find her own particular place in the world.

When Claire wrote ‘The English Air by D.E. Stevenson might just be my new favourite DES book’ a year or so ago I sat up and took notice, because I knew that she loved the author and that she had read a great many of her books.

The book was out of print, used copies were horrible expensive, but I was delighted when a search of my library catalogue found a copy. And then I was both sad and cross when I clicked on it to find ‘no copy available’ – experience has taught me that’s library-speak for ‘we’ve lost it.’

Fortunately Open Library came to my rescue and now I have read the book. I’m not quite sure its my favourite of her books – I have a weakness for her more sentimental stories – but I can say that it is a book with wonderful qualities, that it is a book without – or at least with less of – her weaknesses, and that it is a book I would love to add to my shelves if only some kind publisher would bring it back into print.

Not long before the outbreak of World War I a bright young Englishwoman met a quiet young German. He took her home as his bride, they had a son, and they named him Franz. Franz’s mother lost touch with her friends and family in England during the was and she died not long after it ended, leaving Franz to be brought up by his strict German father, not knowing his English family at all.

The story begins in the summer of 1938. Franz has just turned twenty years old, he is a quiet and serious-minded young man, and he has invited himself to stay with his English relations. He wants to improve his English, and to learn more about the country and his culture.

Franz’s relationship with his cousins, and the lessons he learns about the English, are drawn quite beautifully. He was baffled at first by English irony and understatement, and he had no idea what to take seriously and what to take as a joke.  But he was quick to learn, and he came to appreciate the strong bonds and the sense of community that underpinned so many seemingly casual ways.

This part of the story was lovely to read. Of course families and village communities are one of the authors greatest strengths, but what I appreciated here was that she told her story through characters without the faintest hint of a stereotype.

Wynne was the same age as Franz, and she was a genuinely nice, warm, bright girl; a true English rose. She drew Franz into her circle of friends without a moment’s hesitation, and the friendship between them grew into love. It was a relationship that might echo that of Franz’s parents.

Sophie was Wynne’s mother; a widow who was a wonderful mixture of scattiness and practicality. She and Franz’s mother had been close; she was pleased to see that her son had grown up so well, and she appreciated talking with him and sharing memories as much as he appreciated hearing about his mother and being drawn into her family.

And Dane was Franz’s uncle. He had concerns –  he worked in military intelligence and he knew that Franz’s father had risen high in the Nazi party – but he was prepared to watch and wait. Because he liked the young man, who was respectful, who was interested, who was always prepared to listen and think.

Franz never lost his love for his German homeland,but in time he began to question some of the policies that the leader he respected was putting in place.  The Munich agreement came to him as a profound relief, allowing him to continue to love both his countries; but when it was broken he was devastated.

He was relieved that he had taken Dane’s advice to wait before acting on his feelings for Wynne.

He knew that he had to act, and act he did.

The story played out beautifully, moving between Franz and his English family. It grew naturally from the characters I had come to like and to care about; it caught the times, the early days of the war, perfectly; and though it wasn’t entirely predictable it was entirely right. Even better – maybe because ‘The English Air’ was written and published while was still raging – the ending was uncontrived and natural. And that’s not always the case with D E Stevenson’s novel ….

I was a little disappointed that Wynne wasn’t a stronger presence in the story, but having Franz in the foreground was wonderful. He really was such an interesting character, and it was lovely to watch him learn and grow as he faced challenges big and small. That he, his situation, his divided loyalties were set out with such empathy and understanding are what make this story so special.

And the lightness of touch and the perfectly wrought English backdrop make it so very readable …