Why we love... Plum Sykes

The latest novel, Wives Like Us, from Plum Sykes is not only the perfect holiday read; it’s the perfect Cotswold read, too.

But don’t get us wrong. This isn’t the Cotswolds of Morris Men jingling wrist bells, dancing up the sunrise on Painswick Beacon. Or, indeed, the Cotswolds of the borderline-insane tradition of chasing cheeses down the slopes of Cooper’s Hill. 

The only bells in this book would be to summon staff – such as Ian Palmer, the Executive Butler who works for one of the titular ‘wives’, Tata Hawkins. (‘When it came to staff, everyone in Oxfordshire – that rose-strewn English county in which the action takes place – wanted ‘an Ian’, as they put it. He was, in butling terms, a minor celebrity.’)

As for cheese-rolling… again, not as such. There is cheese: but no way is this chased downhill; or, indeed, even served at the simple, intimate kitchen supper thrown by Tata, and arranged by party planner Veronika Ward. (‘Intimate kitchen supper’ meaning valet parking; cocktails, champagne, blinis and caviar). Cheese is mentioned purely in the context of a super-fun Cotswold-based guest list:’…maybe Jemima Khan will come. She’s only down the road…I’ll ask Fernanda to get Michael to bring a cool actor… and there’s that pop star from Blur who makes cheese now, what about him?’

So, what is the lowdown on Wives Like Us? (You might well ask.)

Is there a story to this novel?

Oh, boy – is there! And half. We promise, it will have you riveted, laughing, page-turning; and salivating over the thought of all the Daylesford Organic croissants aux amandes being scoffed. (A bit like in the old days, where they used to subliminally flash pictures of peanuts at the cinema screen to make you feel unaccountably peckish, until the practice got banned.)
It’s the tale of (as the blurb succinctly puts it) one (heartbroken) American divorcée, three rich wives, two tycoons, a pair of miniature sausage dogs, and one (bereaved) butler. At least it confirms that money doesn’t bring you happiness. However, it clearly brings you Daylesford croissants, which is very close to the same thing. (If you’ve ever eaten a Daylesford croissant, you’ll know we’re really down in the noise here.)

Sounds like a fab read…

Spot on. But it’s more than that. You can also use Wives Like Us as a directory of must-haves. Even the village fete (admittedly generously hosted by Monkton Bottom Manor estate) seems to have swapped the usual wonky tables from the local Scout hut in favour of Portuguese embroidered tablecloths, cabbage-shaped Bordallo Pinheiro plates, bamboo-handled cutlery and Czechoslovakian crystal tumblers.

What’s the Cotswold dress-code, then?

Ooh. Big question. If you’ve an ancient title stretching back to, say William the Conqueror, it’s pumps, floral skirts and frilly collared blouses. (And you need to drive a 20-year-old Volvo estate; the more battered, the classier.) Otherwise, we can start with the handbags (Céline, Chanel, Hermès). Maybe a Miguelina sundress. And a haze of Jo Loves White Rose and Lemon Leaves perfume confirming your every location, recent-past and present. (Shuang pyjamas, of course.)

And – more undress than dress – you do need to employ a cold-water swimming coach. (As well as a flamenco teacher. Obvs.)

So who are these wives based on?

Ah. Glad you’ve asked. Now that’s the real question. We couldn’t possibly say. (That’s not an expression of discretion. We genuinely haven’t a clue.) Plum – a Vogue journalist/best-selling novelist – has her own rather gorgeous farmhouse near Stroud. Rumours are flying around about real-life inspiration for these wives. What we can’t work out is whether the real Cotswold wives are horrified by the thought that these might be their fictional equivalents – or really rather thrilled.

Wives Like Us by Plum Sykes is published by Bloomsbury, at £18.99