Hasty marriage to a man she barely knew. Exile to India - a country she didn't know at all
An emotional love story set in the last days of colonial India
Set against the turbulent backdrop of South India in the dying days of British colonial rule, this heartbreaking yet joyful novel shows us the fascinating world of pre Independence India through the eyes of Ginny Dunbar, the young wife of a tea planter. Ginny has a damaged past she is desperate to keep secret and is caught between a clash of cultures. The exoticism and vibrancy of native India both attracts and repels her and she doesn't fit into the shallow world of the British expatriates whose lives revolve around the Club. Isolated in a lonely marriage to man she barely knows, Ginny struggles to find her place in an alien world.
Kurinji Flowers is a poignant and moving story of Love, loss, betrayal and redemption. If you like the drama of human relationships you will find this an absorbing and engaging read.
Clare Flynn writes historical fiction with compelling characters.and a strong sense of time and place. Her books often deal with characters who are displaced - forced out of their comfortable lives and familiar surroundings. She is a graduate of Manchester University where she read English Language and Literature.
After a career in international marketing, working on brands from nappies to tinned tuna and living in Paris, Milan, Brussels and Sydney, she ran her own consulting business for 15 years and now lives in Eastbourne where she writes full-time – and can look out of her window and see the sea.
When not writing and reading, Clare loves to paint with watercolours and grabs any available opportunity to travel - sometimes under the guise of research.
In 1936, King Edward VIII, in his brief tenure before abdicating, was completely uninterested in hosting the annual coming out presentations of the young debutantes. He frustrated many proud mothers and their eager daughters by shifting the proceedings to the afternoons – and to the gardens of Buckingham Palace. His motivation was doubtless to allow himself a rapid escape, but the British weather conspired to make the Courts soggy and dispiriting.
When George VI and Queen Elizabeth took over, the Courts went back to evenings much to the relief of all concerned.
I was due to be presented at Court in a couple of weeks and, for some reason, the new king had decided the presentations would be made in daytime in the palace gardens. Choosing to break with tradition and forego the solemn dignity of evening Courts in the staterooms was perverse anyway, but doing so in that dreary summer seemed like sheer bloody-mindedness. I was sure I'd have to endure the whole tedious process in the pouring rain. As it happened, it did rain: a torrential downpour. King Edward was safely sheltered under a canopy while the debutantes paraded in front of him, their coiffures flattened or frizzed and their dripping party frocks clinging to their calves like seaweed. But I was not among them. By then, I was in disgrace and exiled from London.