It is not easy to review a book by a writer as well-known and prolific as Simon Brett. His work is read, heard and watched by many lovers of light crime fiction and Home Counties domesticity. It would be easy to say "The mixture as before" and leave it at that, which would tell; one what to expect, but would be almost insultingly dismissive. Simon Brett does not deserve that.
The Bones Under the Beach Hut is the latest visit to the Sussex seaside town of Fethering (next door to Tarring, of course) where ex-Civil Servant Carole Seddon and her friend Jude, an alternative therapist, indulge in serial detection. The hut in question, one among three crescents of beach huts in nearby Smalting, has been sub-let to Carole by Philly, who is short of cash after the disappearance of her boyfriend Martin. When Carole takes possession she discovers that it has at one time been set on fire. She is offered another hut by Kelvin, the objectionable caretaker of the huts. He and the President, Reg Flowers are involved in shady dealings, as are the slightly crazy artist Gray Czesky and his wife Helga.
And then... when the police are called in the eponymous bones are discovered, but whose bones are they? The obvious answer you might think would be Martin's, but no, he turns up, and the bones are those of a little boy. Carole and Jude are on the case, and their investigations take them all round the tightly-knit community of Hutters. Needless to say they are successful, and bring the case to a satisfactory, but sad conclusion.
And so it is the mixture as before, and a good thing too. A gentle, intriguing read, in Simon Brett's fluent easy style, is just the thing for holiday reading. Long may he continue to entertain us.