I can still picture it. A ghostly green face staring through a pair of gold-rimmed pince-nez. Above it in black letters is the question: Whose Body? The memory takes me back to being twelve, standing in my school bookshop, unable to look away. I bought the Dorothy L. Sayers’ novel, and my love of crime fiction began. In the intervening decades, not only have I read crime fiction, but I’ve enjoyed listening to interviews with authors, and been fortunate enough to attend a couple of crime writing festivals. One question that’s invariably asked is where the inspiration for a story comes from. The answers are as varied as an inscription on a Victorian gravestone, to something pulled from a recent news headline. Perhaps, because I trained as a photographer, and spent my career analysing images, I often find at least part of my inspiration comes from a visual source.
When I began thinking about my story that became “The Fall,” I knew I wanted to use an idea I’d had for several years. It was based on a newspaper article about a high-end mugging and, while in reality the victim was innocent, I could see a way in which the situation might not be quite so straight forward. My problem was I couldn’t find a context in which to set the story. It was winter, and I was flicking through a calendar I’d bought in readiness for the new year, when I saw an image that almost immediately inspired the framework for the story. The calendar was a National Trust one, and the photograph was the view across the Parterre gardens at Cliveden House, Berkshire. Cliveden is built high on a ridge, and in the picture you can see the light catching the River Thames as it winds its way through the trees below. The grounds are open to the public, and I’ve spent many happy times walking here, and along the section of riverbank beside the estate. I knew I’d found my location.
Once I’d settled on the location, I looked at other images of Cliveden, including photographs I’d taken when visiting, and found myself drawn into its colourful past. I already knew some of the stories connected to the house, but I was interested to know more. Although currently a respected, five-star hotel, looked after by the National Trust, (Meghan Markle spent the night before her wedding to Prince Harry here) Cliveden’s history reveals times when something darker was going on beneath its glossy surface. The current, opulent Italianate house was built in 1851, but two earlier properties on the site were destroyed by fire. The original house was commissioned by the 2nd Duke of Buckingham as a gift for his mistress. He later fought a duel with her husband, who subsequently died from the injuries he sustained. But it’s perhaps an event from comparatively recent history that’s defined the house. In the summer of 1961, married politician, John Profumo, met Christine Keeler in Cliveden’s outdoor pool. He was the Secretary of State for War. She was the teenage mistress of an alleged Russian spy. They began an affair, and lied to cover it up. When the relationship became public it led to resignations, national security concerns, a media frenzy, a suicide, court trials and a prison sentence. It was also a contributing factor in the downfall of the government Profumo had been a part of. The British Politician Sex, as referenced in Billy Joel’s lyrics to “We Didn’t Start The Fire,” remains one of the biggest scandals in British political history.
Cliveden’s past isn’t all dark though. Throughout its history, the various houses on the site have been owned or rented by dukes, earls and princes, but perhaps Cliveden’s most glamorous era came in the early twentieth century, during the tenure of William and Nancy Astor. William gave Nancy a tiara containing the fifty-five carat Sancy diamond, currently in the Louvre in Paris, and John Singer Sargent painted her portrait. They turned Cliveden into a weekend party house on a grand scale, with guest lists ranging from George Bernard Shaw to Charlie Chaplin, and Winston Churchill to Franklin D. Roosevelt. The exposure helped American-born Nancy become the first female seated member of the British parliament.
Although Cliveden is far too grand a property for my protagonists, its mixture of intrigue, scandal and decadence were all elements I wanted to include in my story, albeit on a smaller scale. Gradually, the idea of a couple living their perfect life in a beautiful house began to form. While I didn’t envision Miles and Nina as a down-market version of William and Nancy, I did see them as outwardly successful. I imagined their dreams, although shared, to have come between them. I was interested in exploring what would happen if it looked like this lifestyle was ending. For the idea to work, the stakes had to be high and, while there are many ordinary houses close to Cliveden, there are also some spectacular riverside properties with gardens stretching down to the water. I felt one of these could incite the behaviour the plot required, particularly if it was about to be lost.
I can trace my thought process that ended in the idea of a luxury house, where things weren’t all as they appeared, back to seeing the calendar photograph of Cliveden. It’s not the first time an image has inspired my writing either, but it’s not always one as spectacular as this. I was fortunate enough to have a story published in the September/October 2020 issue of Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine. It’s called “Fruiting Bodies.” I came across the phrase I used for the title while looking at pictures of fungi, and trying to determine which species was invading my lawn.
Cliveden historical references: https://www.clivedenhouse.co.uk/the-house/
Trace Evidence 