Narrated by Cornell Collins
I finished listening to Alexis Hall’s Pansies with a happy sigh and the biggest, sappiest smile on my face. I know several people who cite this as their favourite of Mr. Hall’s books, and now I can see why; it’s a funny, awkward, sexy, poignant and gorgeously romantic story featuring two wounded, lovely and lonely people that had me smiling one minute and tearing up the next – and sometimes both at once.
Alfie Bell left his home town of South Shields in the North East of England for a plum job in London, and now has a six-figure salary, a swanky penthouse apartment and the car of his dreams. He’s returned home for his best mate’s wedding, where he accidentally outs himself in quite the spectacular fashion at the reception. Deciding to make himself scarce for a bit, he drives to a local pub where he meets Fen, all lithe grace, pink-tipped hair and attitude … and is mesmerised. It’s not until after they’ve hooked up that Fen angrily tells Alfie that they went to school together, and not only that, Alfie bullied him and made his life a misery for years.
Alfie is horrified – not only because he didn’t recognise Fen, but at the thought of what he did – and tries to apologise, insisting he’s no longer that person – and is surprised and offended when a furious Fen refuses to accept his apology. Back in London the following week, Alfie can’t get Fen out of his mind, and, compelled to find a way to show Fen that he really has changed, heads back to South Shields. He doesn’t have the faintest idea of what he’s going to do or say – he just knows that he’s got to do something to make things right.
The story consists mainly of Fen and Alfie spending time together and talking, slowly learning things about themselves and each other, and exploring what they could be to each other and how that might possibly fit into the lives they’ve imagined for themselves. They’re both likeable, complex and relatable characters you can’t help but root for, and I just loved listening in on their conversations as they speak about what happened between them all those years ago, open up about things they’ve never told anyone and begin to learn each other anew. Fen is a loving and accepting person, but he makes Alfie work for his forgiveness, bringing him to see and understand how badly he’d been hurt by what Alfie thought of as childish pranks, and Alfie gradually comes to admit – to himself and Fen – the reasons he’d been such a complete git all those years ago; how in looking at Fen, he’d seen someone with the courage to truly be himself and, lacking the confidence to do the same, had taken out his frustrations on Fen instead.
Both characters experience a fair amount of growth in this story, and I absolutely loved watching their relationship grow and change. Sometimes it was a case of one step forward, two steps back (Alfie does have a talent for putting his foot in his mouth!) but it was wonderful nonetheless to watch this unlikely couple coming to understand one another and fall in love.
Alfie is struggling to reconcile the traditional values he was brought up with – men are men, they marry women, have children and provide for them by working in a manly profession – with the realisation (or rather, a long-delayed admission), a couple of years earlier that he’s gay. He may now be living as an openly gay man, but he doesn’t think he knows how to actually be gay, so part of his journey is learning to accept that he can be whatever he wants to be and it will be okay.
I liked the way the author plays with stereotypes here. Alfie is good-looking and well-off, and could easily have been one of those commitment-phobic playboy types with a revolving bedroom door, but instead he’s sweet and kind and a bit clueless, worries about the etiquette of picking up a guy in a bar and admits upfront that he’s looking for more than just a good time in bed and wants a relationship. He’s crap at traditionally manly things like DIY – the scene where he’s wandering around B&Q (a large UK DIY chain) doing Approved Man Shopping, “buying multifinish plaster just like the rest of them” made me chuckle – but discovers he likes to cook, and he tries hard to do the right thing… even though he doesn’t always manage it.
He’s the PoV character, but Mr. Hall does a great job of showing us Fen through Alfie’s eyes so that he comes to life in wonderfully vivid detail. Fierce, sweet, sad and loving, he’s also struggling to come to terms with big changes in his life. His mother’s death hit him hard and he put his career on hold to come back to South Shields to try to save her beloved flower shop from going under. But although he knows flowers, they’re not his passion and he feels like he’s drowning, feeling guilty because part of him wants the shop to fail so he can leave it behind. He has to learn to let some of his pain and resentment go so he can move forward with his life.
I’ve listened to Cornell Collins often and have enjoyed his work but I’m going to be honest and say that I wasn’t completely convinced he was the right narrator for this book at first. I’ve never listened to him in a contemporary romance, but it didn’t take me long to realise that I needn’t have worried, because he delivers a really strong, nuanced performance that captures the essence of both leads and hits all the right emotional notes in the story. He gives Alfie a deep, gruff tone and deliberate manner of speech, and does a terrific job of conveying his uncertainty and the sense of adorable bewilderment he sometimes experiences around Fen. Fen’s voice is pitched slightly higher and he speaks a little faster, all pent up energy, frustration and waspishness with an underlying vulnerability and fragility. The bulk of the story takes place in the North East, so most of the characters have a Geordie accent, some of which is written out phonetically in the text in much the same way as Darian’s Estuary accent was written out in Glitterland, although as both Alfie and Fen haven’t lived there for years, their accents are much less pronounced (Fen’s is almost gone). I have family from that area, so it’s an accent I’m familiar with; Mr. Collins has a good stab at it but it often veers towards Yorkshire (and sometimes across the country to Liverpool!) and back again, and some of the words that are written phonetically (“reet” (right) “knaa” (know) etc.) can sound rather odd. I suspect that for many listeners, it won’t be an issue, and ultimately, the performance as a whole is so good, the story so compelling and the writing so sublime that it wasn’t too problematic and didn’t take me out of the story or spoil my enjoyment of it. The secondary cast includes Alfie’s parents and his London friends, and Fen’s dad and his employee, Gothshelley (who makes floral ‘art’ with names such as Woe and Suffering) and they’re all well-characterised and clearly differentiated.
Pansies is, quite simply, a beautiful love story about acceptance and forgiveness and having the strength to be whoever you want to be. It’s about grief and moving on, and about forever and finding home.
And we could listen to musicals. And you could drive my car sometimes. And I could suck you off in the mornings and fall asleep next to you every night . . . And we could walk on the beach and maybe get a dog. I’d quite like a dog if you would. But not if you wouldn’t. Only let’s not get a cat because they’re snooty buggers. And maybe we could do this all the time . . . Cos . . . well . . . that’s what love means to me. But it doesn’t mean anything at all really, without you.
I loved Pansies and know I’ll be listening to it again soon.
Note: the story includes mention of assisted suicide.
Caz
Buy Pansies by Alexis Hall on Amazon
