"It is not always sensible to be sensible".

It would be unwise to start a Katherine Rundell story if you have some pressing business to attend to because once started her books are almost impossible to put down.
Within the first few lines of The Good Thieves we are offered the thought that “it is not always sensible to be sensible” and if that doesn`t conjure up the prospect of deeds of derrin` do with a bit of mischief thrown in, nothing will. The intriguing title in any case suggests a slightly sideways look at the world and perhaps that is as good a way as any to describe Rundell`s writing. From The Girl Savage and Rooftoppers, through The Wolf Wilder, The Explorer and Into The Jungle (the latter also reviewed here), her stories swing along with verve, panache and an assemblage of vibrant characters, all of whom you would like to spend some time with, even if you feel you might not be able to keep up with them.
In The Good Thieves we meet Vita, standing alone on the deck of a ship and nodding towards the approaching city of New York “as a boxer greets an opponent before a fight.” How could you not want to know what has brought her and her mother here? Soon you discover she has come to right a terrible wrong and though she may be “small, and still, and watchful”, with one leg bearing permanent testament to a bout of polio she caught when she was five, we soon learn she is nothing if not determined.
Rundell is an author you can trust: despite any number of setbacks and apparently insurmountable difficulties you know Vita will triumph. It is in the telling of how she does so that the magic happens and the adventure takes off. In the company of three, at first unlikely looking, companions, all on the edge of respectable society in their own ways, a plan to thwart the (properly villainous) criminal who has wronged her family are drawn up. Loyalties are put to the test and prove steadfast, friendships are forged and always great courage is displayed, not simply physical courage, though there is that, but also the courage to go against convention when the situation demands.
The descriptive writing is a joy, conjuring up never-to-be-forgotten images - coffee looking like “angry mud”. There is humour, the usual wit and, as we have come to expect from this author, the occasional acerbic though always understated observation which appears to signal the moral compass by which Rundell`s characters are guided.
Clothes and costumes, disguises – especially disguises – colour, music, performance, tenacity, vagabonds and rapscallions all fizz throughout the story and in the end triumph over snobbery, selfishness and doubt. Heart-stopping and heart-lifting in equal measure this is also a book which for once doesn`t cast a “Susan” in a sensible role (see Swallows and Amazons). For that I send a personal thanks to Katherine Rundell.