A choice of thrillers for end of summer escapism

Publishing has never much distinguished between fame and notoriety, and it’s hardly Charlotte Philby’s fault that her grand-father was the double agent Kim. Still, it seems an odd credential to extol. Philby is a good enough writer to be lauded for her work alone, and her latest book, The End of Summer (Borough Press, £16.99), is spy-free and her best so far.

It’s 1985 and Judy McVee is an attractive teenage hustler who leaves her unsympathetic mother in London and moves to New York. There she supports herself by pilfering wallets from men in bars who mistake her friendliness for availability. But Judy is looking for bigger fish than the suckers in local saloons, and she soon picks out a very different target when she sees a photo in the New York Times of a recently widowed millionaire named Rory Harrington, who summers in Wellfleet, Massachusetts. Driving south to Cape Cod, she covers her tracks by stealing not just one but two cars, before buying a third.

Arriving in Wellfleet, Judy gatecrashes a party she knows Harrington will attend. She meets him, and her beauty and tart humour immediately captivate him. Soon he proves putty in her hands. The only problem for Judy is that she finds herself falling in love with her prospective victim.

The couple marry and settle in London. Early in their relationship, Judy has told Harrington that her mother is dead; but the woman is very much alive, though living in squalor and slowly succumbing to dementia. Judy feels enough daughterly obligation to pay for her mother’s care, and needs money of her own to do so. That, at least, is her rationale for her continuing compulsion to steal.