Marketed as a spy thriller, this was, at best, a very literary take on the genre.
I can’t pretend I liked it much; poorly written (perhaps deliberately) as a parody of the upper-middle class gel, who appears to be the heroine/narrator.
Her interest, although perhaps disguised or deliberately distorted by the true narrator, appears to be entirely in men of the suitably marriageable class, apart from a brief and very clichéd affair with her Cambridge tutor, who steers her toward MI5 where she works unsuccessfully for all concerned.
If there was something cleverer here than the plot twist in the final chapter, I missed it.
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