The Secret Lives of the Doyenne of Didsbrook
The remote village of Didsbrook is thrown into turmoil after its best-known resident, the former actress turned best-selling novelist Jocelyn Robertshaw, is found dead under mysterious circumstances.
Villagers are appalled to learn that the charismatic Jocelyn died from Hemlock poisoning. Police claim she shot and ate a quail that had ingested hemlock. A theory disputed by all who knew her well. The animal-loving Jocelyn would never kill anything, but due to the lack of forensic evidence, police rule death by misadventure.
Jocelyn’s young protégée, Lucy Fothergill, determined to discover the truth about what happened to her mentor, discovers a hidden stash of Jocelyn’s notebooks, revealing jaw-dropping secrets from Jocelyn’s past. The impression Jocelyn gave the world that she lived a near-perfect life was an Academy Award-winning performance.
Believing the events from Jocelyn’s past may have led to her death forty-eight years later, Lucy begins to piece together the clues that lead to the truth.
The sleepy village of Didsbrook is about to wake up!
Purchase Links
https://www.amazon.co.uk/Secret-Lives-Doyenne-Didsbrook-secrets-ebook/dp/B0F9P9DM57
https://www.amazon.com/Secret-Lives-Doyenne-Didsbrook-secrets-ebook/dp/B0F9P9DM57
Author Bio
Tessa Barrie was born in Harrogate, Yorkshire, and despite her parents uprooting her at the age of three and moving her down south, she is proud of her Yorkshire heritage.
Growing up, she recalls her family life being more Little House on the Prairie than The Waltons because her early years were fraught with drama. However, intermingled with all the emotional disruption, she remembers humour squeezing its way through the frayed feelings.
So, incorporating humour in her writing has become very important to her as she believes that, however dark a story gets, there should always be a subtle sprinkling of humour.
In June 2021, Tessa self-published her debut novel, Just Say It, a bittersweet family saga, and her second novel, The Secret Lives of the Doyenne of Didsbrook, a quirky murder mystery, is currently on pre-order and is due for release on 1st July 2025. Her third novel, The Rebuilding of Freya Michaels, will be published in 2026.
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EXTRACT
In 2018, the renowned actress turned best-selling author Jocelyn Robertshaw was found dead under mysterious circumstances in the small village of Didsbrook, and her young protégée Lucy Fothergill is determined to uncover the truth about what really happened to her mentor.
An excerpt from one of Jocelyn’s adolescent diaries: A seventeen-year-old Jocelyn arrives home excited to have finished school for the final time, but her exhilaration is short-lived.
As I approached the manor, Tony Partridge was getting out of his car in the drive. Rather than wondering why the family solicitor was there in my parents’ absence, I had a bizarre thought about his son, Graeme, who always came to my children’s parties until Mrs. Partridge met an Italian entrepreneur during one of their annual Tuscan holidays. After the divorce, Mrs. Partridge lived in Italy with her new amante and took Graeme with her. I wondered if spending his formative years in the Italian sunshine had turned him into Giacomo Casanova.
I waved at him and shouted.
“Hello, Uncle Tony,” he just about managed to wave back. Although it was more like a gesture to acknowledge the presence of a stranger, he’d passed in the street, not someone who had been introduced to me on the day I was born. I’d always referred to him as ‘uncle’ because, as my father’s closest friend, he became my godfather.
“They’re still in Turkey!” I shouted.
“I know.”
His response was muted. He forced a smile as I drew closer, holding out his arms to give me an awkward hug.
As we entered the house, Betty, the family’s cook, came running into the hall like the south-easterly whirlwind she always is, her short, stocky legs rotating like helicopter blades as she ran across the oak flooring.
“Joccie, my little sweetheart! Ted told me you were walking home with Camilla, which meant your old Auntie Betty had to wait so much longer to see you, but here you are, finally, looking as gorgeous as ever!”
She tried to lift me like she always did when I was a child, but I’ve grown an inch or maybe even two since I last saw her, and I tower over her.
“Oh! Hello, Mr Partridge, I wasn’t expecting you ‘n all!”
“No, erm, well, Betty, would you mind making a pot of tea? When you’ve made it, I would like you to sit down with us, too. Ted, as well, if he’s around.”
“Right, you are, Sir. The kettle’s already boiled. I’ll bring it into the orangery presently. Ted was talking about helping at the farm this afty, but I’ll go and give the old bugger a shout. I’ve made a nice chocolate sponge, too. It’s my little Joccie’s favourite. Oh, it’s so lovely to have you home, Joccie!”
“Come through to the orangery, Uncle Tony. I am sure you have tasted Betty’s chocolate cake before, but it really is to die for.”
I felt so grown up and confident as I ushered him through to the orangery.
“I cannot believe I have finally finished school! I hope my exam results will be good enough to go to Cambridge in October.”
Uncle Tony avoided my gaze. His mind was clearly elsewhere, and I remember thinking, how rude!
“I’ve been offered a place at Girton. How amazing is that? Camilla Mortimer has as well, and we’re on the same course. Even more amazing. I can hardly believe it. Beryl Brown has been offered a place at Loughborough. Barbara Dennis is going to Brighton, and Tom Shuttleworth is off to Exeter. Pretty good for such a small village, don’t you think? Five of us from dear old Didsbrook all going to university in the same year.”
Tony managed a forced smile and nodded.
“Do take a seat.”
Betty bustled through the door carrying a loaded tea tray, followed by Ted holding the chocolate cake like a ceremonial offering. “Here we are, Sir. I found Ted in the stable yard. He was hanging around for a slice of cake before he went to help out on the farm. Would you like me to pour?”
Tony Partridge sucked in a breath. “That would be most kind, Betty, thank you.” He watched Betty pour two cups of tea.
“Sugar?”
“No, thank you, Betty.” He cleared his throat, “Betty, I would like you to sit next to Joc, please, and you sit there, Ted.”
“Oh! Right, you are, Sir.”
Betty sat next to me, stretching an arm around my shoulders and squeezing me toward her.
“Oh, it’s so wonderful to see you”.
“Innit, just.” Echoed Ted. “It’s been so quiet around here without you, Joc. Even more so with your mum and dad off on their travels again.”
I bent my head onto Betty’s shoulder, smiling at Uncle Tony, who looked even more sombre than ever. He took a deep breath, pursing his lips.
“Jocelyn.” He finally made eye contact with me. “It has fallen to me to deliver some very unpleasant news.”
I returned his stare, perplexed. Nobody ever called me Jocelyn, except for my old headmistress. I thought about the word unpleasant. It wasn’t a term that featured in my teenage vocabulary. Most things were either cool, super-duper, or bloody brilliant, but never unpleasant. I instinctively reached for Betty’s hand as Tony took a deep breath.
“There is no easy way to tell you this.” His steely grey eyes oozed foreboding. “But it is with great sadness I have to tell you that, following a tragic accident in Turkey, Albert and Fredericka both lost their lives yesterday.”
Betty’s gasp cut through the air like a lightning bolt.
“Oh, my Lord! No, it cannot be.”
I have no clear recollection of what happened after poor Uncle Tony delivered the news that weighed so heavily on his mind and heart. There is no easy way to tell a seventeen-year-old that both their parents’ lives have been snuffed out.
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