Perfect Liars by Rebecca Reid x Minuty, Côtes de Provence
Sixteen years ago, reads the inside jacket, at an elite boarding school secluded in the English countryside, best friends Nancy, Georgia and Lila did something unspeakable...
The Book: Perfect Liars by Rebecca Reid
I went through a period where I was so tired of domestic noirs.
Every book was described as ‘the next Girl on the Train'. Novels blurred together one dysfunctional marriage or dysfunctional sibling rivalry or dysfunctional extra-marital affair after another. The snide critiques of the female condition become one muddled diatribe in my head, and it was almost always the sister or the psychiatrist (who usually appeared once in chapter four) that committed the crime at the end.
And then along came Perfect Liars by Rebecca Reid. It could have been like all the others but it brought me back to the genre, which is why I wanted to give it a reprise on The Book Cellar.
Sixteen years ago, reads the inside jacket, at an elite boarding school secluded in the English countryside, best friends Nancy, Georgia and Lila did something unspeakable … but now one of them wants to talk. Three women walk into dinner, but only two will leave.
So far, so Mallory Towers for murderinos albeit with a little drawing-room theatre thrown in for good measure.
But after that, any expectations of where Reid is going should be flung from the cliff tops - because Perfect Liars is delightfully dark and twisty.
As the blurb tells us, the novel centers on the friendship between Nancy, Georgia, and Lila. These ladies scheme, swear, fuck, and snort coke - they defy likability and yet are obsessed with convention.
In each of their ways, they appeal to variations on female stereotypes. Georgia, the marriage plot fanatic; Lila, the manic pixie dream girl; Nancy, the British boarding school equivalent of “the Cool Girl”. Each of them has perfected their version of a 'polished, performative femininity' – but not for the men in their lives. They perform almost exclusively for one another.
Think of it this way. In a healthy world, friendships are unselfish. They provide companionship, support, a chance to dance on tables when you succeed, or to sob into a shoulder when things go awry. But a toxic friendship is narcissistic: you look at them and they at you and it’s the speculative measuring and remeasuring of each other’s waistlines, wrinkles, bank balances, career achievements, familial success. They end up embodying everything you wish you were (or weren’t).
It is this latter kind of friendship we recognise between Georgia, Nancy and Lila.
Their friendship, like everything else in their lives, is performance art – curated to prick at each other’s nerves, to emphasise their superiority over one another. They compete, seek out weaknesses and opportunities to exploit each other, question every motive. They are dark mirrors reflecting the worst of each other.
“Why are you still friends?” ask the trophy husbands in turn.
And whilst their shared secret provides an obvious answer – the novel unpacks something far more interesting: it examines our fascination with appearances and the lines we'll cross to maintain them. You can never be sure what the truth is in Perfect Liars.
Now I'll let you decide what's real and what’s false in the end, but there are couple things you should keep an eye out for.
First: pay attention to Reid’s meticulous use of detail. The deliberateness of her language and imagery curates an atmosphere of constant suspicion. Consider those out-of-season blooms in the prologue or the fake flowers throughout Georgia’s pristine home - peonies are to Perfect Liars as the fire is to Lord of the Flies - and similar symbols and clues are everywhere. Reflecting the borderline obsession of the women with status and outward appearance, deeper meanings lurk below every line.
Second: watch how the narrative voice and structure reflect an ever-more-intricate web between the friends. Each chapter is told in close third-person, with new chapters indicating a point-of-view shift from Nancy to Lila to Georgia. The structure is likewise built so that whilst the central plot takes place during a present-day dinner party, we have repeated flashbacks to their time at school (which wisely gives the story time to breathe). These flashbacks divulge more of their friendship, teasing out the secret understood to have consumed their adult lives. The fluctuations in voice and setting mean that each time it seems the mystery might finally get its reveal, another layer is added – a fresh opinion, an alternate recollection, a new personal demon (or the falsification of one). Note them, question them.
Because all of these elements combine into stifling claustrophobia, mounting pressure. There's no escaping the past. Georgia’s perfect dinner party spirals towards chaos. The novel reaches its crescendo and what could have been a comedy of manners transforms into a taut psychological thriller. And thanks to Reid’s dark humour and journalistically precise prose, the reader becomes part of that horror. I dare you not to feel complicit.
You can also read Rebecca Reid’s beautiful, honest words on Substack.
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The Pairing: Château Minuty 'M de Minuty' Rosé, Côtes de Provence
You’ll probably find quite a few bottles of rosé recommended between these pages and whilst it was tempted to go for one that’s maybe a bit unusual, subversive, something dry and novel (perhaps like the Turkish Kayra), I decided instead to stick with a classic. Why? Because what wine is more about appearances these days than the curvaceous Minuty? Distinctive from its bottling to its pearly pink colour and aromatic nose, Château Minuty is a global darling and has stolen headlines and column inches all over the media. Think Elle, Forbes, Esquire, Bloomberg and Harpers Bizarre. I should say here, I am a huge fan. It’s a wine that my parents have drunk for probably fifteen years or so. But I’m also pretty sure I first tried it at Le Club 55 on Pampelonne beach. It has been a wine to be seen drinking for years - and it’s also delicious.
The Wine: Minuty is a Provence rosé from the gulf of St Tropez. The vineyard sits right on the coast and the sea breeze apparently dries out the vines after dew or rain, which limits the risk of disease. It also gives a lovely delicateness to the wines. I also loved this little description on their website about the grape choices: “There’s Grenache for its elegant aromas, Cinsault for its freshness, Syrah for its complexity and a dash of seafront Tibouren for its delicate white fruit aromas. The idea is to lock in all the juices’ bright intensity.” Serve chilled - and don’t be afraid to add an ice cube like they do at Le Plage Keller.
Tasting Notes: The word that always comes to mind when I think of Minuty is fresh. This is a clean, drinkable wine. Light and refreshing, something a little zesty, a little herby, but incredibly relaxed. This wine is warm summer days on the sea, feet dipping into the waves, cold glass in hand.
Where can I buy it? Thankfully, Minuty is no where near as hard to find these days at it used to be. It’s a staple at Majestic (£15.99 MS - £17.99) and Waitrose (£19.99) and you can also spot it on many a menu - including most Youngs pubs.
Fun Facts: When I was looking up Minuty, I kept seeing the phrase ‘mica-schist soil’. It wasn’t something I’d come across before so I decided to look it up. Turns out mica-schist is a type of metamorphic rock, born from the transformation of clay and sediment under the immense pressure and heat deep within the Earth. This process creates a soil rich in mica - a sparkly, silvery mineral - and schist, which is known for its thin, plate-like structure. Together, they form a soil that's incredibly beneficial for vineyards. In areas like Provence, mica-schist is also particularly useful because of its ability to drain water efficiently, ensuring that the vines' roots delve deep into the earth in search of hydration. This quest for moisture stresses the vines in just the right way, concentrating the flavours in the grapes they bear. Moreover, mica helps to retain warmth in the soil, ensuring an even, gentle ripening process that is crucial for developing the delicate, nuanced flavors characteristic of Provence wines.
Have more to add here? Corrections maybe? I’m curious to learn as much as possible so would love to hear from you!