To Morrow-on-Sea: Setting Dead As Gold on the Coast

      Morrow is not a glamorous place, and as                 Ophelia reaches the high street, she begins to skirt takeaway bins that have been raided by foxes. Between the pound shop and the shuttered nail bar is a homeless man who has given up asking for change and stares dully at his feet. 

Ophelia has been told that, in summer, tourists return Morrow to something of its former splendour. There are artists, pop-ups, concerts, hash-tags and social media presence. She has been promised it is the next Margate by loyal middle-class locals and she suspects there is a grain of truth in it; the town has declined substantially since her childhood visits, but there are still the bijou spots[…] 

My second crime novel, Dead As Gold, is set in fictional Morrow-on-Sea: a place we have all been, at one time or another. It is the rundown, out-of-season seaside town that everyone has spent a wet and windy day enjoying. In my childhood, this was Weston-super-Mare on the Somerset coast. Usually grey, haunted by shrieking gulls, sandy and uncomfortable; indefinably magical and intrinsically gothic. It stuck in my subconscious and stayed there like the sand carried home in socks. How easy and natural to set a crime novel there.

Adam Conlan, the protagonist of Dead As Gold, has moved his goldsmith’s workshop to Morrow after fathering a child on a one-night stand. Seven years later, his life is calmer, and he has found a measure of peace in co-parenting his son. Yet, by the sea, he still feels alone. Then, damaged writer Ophelia Richards arrives at his door and wants to sell her mother’s gold. Adam receives an animal heart in the post, his studio is robbed, strange faces appear at his window. A body is washed in on the tide. 

Like so many British coastal towns, Weston’s (and Morrow’s) heyday was during the nineteenth- and early-twentieth-centuries, as tourists flocked to the fresh air and the sea. As holidaying abroad became more affordable, fortunes dwindled, and so began a slow decline into seasonal work, poverty, poor infrastructure, and blossoming drugs trades. And so, the juxtapositions of Weston and Morrow breathe crime. 

A place that is meant to embody pleasure and fun is also grimy and decaying. What is an escape from everyday life for some is a place where others endure poverty and harsh winters. These are habitations positioned at the edge of the world, liminal, between land and sea. Just the presence of the water lends life-giving and life-taking opportunities. Who hasn’t stood at the tideline and felt the instability of the sand being sucked from under their feet? That half-second panic that we will be pulled away and drowned? The sea has a violence and strength that renders us powerless and echoes the dynamics of a murder. Without spoilers (perhaps just a light tease…), some of the most dramatic moments in Dead As Gold occur next to, or in, the water.

To Morrow-on-Sea, to Morrow-on-Sea

To the gulls with their cries, and the wind whistling free.

The seaside is also the writer’s friend because it is intrinsically sensory and evocative. Everyone can imagine the sounds (gulls, waves, wind, children) and smells (salt, seaweed, chip fat) and touch (gritty sand, cold water, harsh wind) of it. It’s a place that the reader can feel and therefore become immersed in. Ophelia herself is a writer, returning to Morrow to make sense of traumatic events she experienced there as a child, to draw a ‘portrait’ of the place through its characters, folktales, and animals. She can feel Morrow in the way the reader can, and like many readers, it is a repository for her childhood, and all the complex associations that can bring.

The late morning sky is low and heavy, resting its leaden belly on the clifftop where Ophelia walks. The wind is urgent, and she errs away from the edge, where thrift and grass cling on in clumps. From the path, she can still see the sea, making dark laps at itself and the beach, ceaseless, restless, like it had been in her childhood. She thinks of Adam Conlan, living at the edge of the world.

The natural co-existence of murder, mystery, and the sea is demonstrated by the sheer number and quality of classic crime novels you’ll find set on the coast. Consider Poirot’s various adventures (Peril At End House, Evil Under the Sun) or Daphne du Maurier’s OG gothic thriller Rebecca. More recently, Tom Mead’s The House at Devil’s Neck and Louise Minchin’s Isolation Island testify to the enduring appeal of the seaside as a setting for murder; a place where the writer can draw from its drama and power and contrast. And like the tide rolling back in, the more readers return to the setting, the more commissioning editors will keep snapping these books up.

Long live crime novels, and long live the great British seaside

Dead as Gold by Bonnie Burke-Patel (Bedford Square Publishers) Out Now

Adam Conlan has made a new life for himself in Morrow-on-Sea. After a wild youth, the goldsmith had settled down, determined to be around for his young son. But now Ophelia Richards appears at his studio door, asking if he will buy her gold. The writer entices and unsettles him; he sees she is adrift in the same cold pain and loneliness as he is. At the same time, faces begin appearing at the studio window, an unwelcome gift arrives in the post, gold goes missing. Then comes death, then comes Detective Inspector William Kent. Woven through with Morrow’s fairy tales, Dead as Gold is a modern gothic crime novel veined with love, violence, family, and desire. Humans still use fairy tales to explore their deepest truths. So who is a wolf, and who is a sparrow?

You can find Bonnie Burke-Patel on Instagram @bonnieburkepatel