If things go according to plan, my latest novel, Borderline, will be released in the next couple of months. I’m excited about it because it’s my first book in nearly five years, but also because it’s completely different to either of my previous novels. More will be revealed over the coming weeks, but I mention it here because one of the early readers was John Lawton.

The funny thing is, I’ve never met John. Never even got into dialogue with him online. Another author who’d taken a look asked if I minded it being shared with him. There was a time when I’d have shied away from a stranger checking out my writing prior to publication. Those days are long gone. Now I’ll take all the feedback I can get.

Fortunately, when he did respond, it was with a lot of encouragement, and he was even generous enough to offer up a quote for when it was published. I’ll share that quote before too long, because it made me smile for a number of reasons. Here isn’t the place, though.

Having been ‘introduced’ to him, I was curious about his own writing. After all, it’s great to get an endorsement from a fellow author – but it doesn’t mean that much if the author in question can barely string a sentence together. There was a fair old selection to choose from, but I found myself drawn to Then We Take Berlin. Whether it was the title (almost certainly lifted from the lyrics of a favourite Leonard Cohen song), or the setting, I can’t be sure. Something definitely appealed, though.

Here’s the blurb:

A gripping, meticulously researched and richly detailed historical thriller moving from London during the Blitz, to divided post-war Berlin.

John Holderness, known to most as ‘Wilderness’, comes of age during World War II in Stepney, breaking in to houses with his grandfather.

After the war, Wilderness is recruited as MI5’s resident ‘cat burglar’ and finds himself in Berlin, involved with schemes in the booming black market that put both him and his relationships in danger.

In 1963 it is a most unusual and lucrative request that persuades Wilderness to return – to smuggle someone under the Berlin Wall and out of East Germany. But this final scheme may prove to be one challenge too far…

Back in the 1970s and early ’80s, I loved reading spy thrillers. The Cold War was a breeding ground for fiction that was tense and exciting without necessarily having to go full-on 007. (Not, I hasten to add, that I have anything against Bond. Far from it, both the books and the movies have provided me with many hours – probably weeks and months, if the truth be told – of pleasure.) Naturally, I dabbled in Le Carré, but one of my go-to authors of the time was John Gardner. I enjoyed his Secret Generations trilogy and, my favourite of all, the Herbie Kruger series.

As it happens, Then We Take Berlin put me more in mind of the Len Deighton series that started with The Ipcress File. To be fair, I probably read those books about forty years ago, so my recollections are likely to be overshadowed by the movie adaptations. Wilderness definitely reminded me of Harry Palmer.

The storyline is structured quite differently, though. Indeed, in the early stages, I was beginning to wonder if I’d got the right book. I hasten to add, that’s not a bad thing. I do like a novel that offers a degree of familiarity but takes things in unexpected directions – whether that’s early on or later. Obviously, I don’t want to give the game away, so I’m not going to comment further on that. Nevertheless, if you pick it up and wonder where it’s going, do stay to find out. It’s well worth it.

It is worth noting that, as the blurb indicates, there’s clearly been a lot of research carried out for this book. And I say that because everything written about the time and the setting felt so authentic. Enough for me to lose myself in the narrative and feel as if I was there – even though I’d only just been born the year of the main events.

I haven’t yet returned to the series, but I will before too long. There was something nostalgic about it, though some of that was undoubtedly the nostalgia for my younger days reading similar books. But that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

If, like me, you have a yearning for the Cold War thrillers of the past, this is a great way to revisit it without the worry of wondering if the book will be as good as you remember. Something new to try, but a comfort blanket of territory you’ve covered before.

With any luck, I’ll get the chance to talk to John Lawton about it before too long. And to thank him for a great read – not to mention his generosity towards a complete stranger. That counts for a lot too.

If I have piqued your interest in this book and you want to know more, click on the image below for the Amazon link.