I adore our Slow Horses! They’re such characters and they each feel so real. Nobody’s perfect in life, and the Slough House crew embody this like no other.

This was another adventure that dealt with unexpected twists and turns, and that had connected plot points that weaved together through the story until they were all tied up nicely at the end in a big bow. Sometimes you saw them coming, sometimes you didn’t.

The writing continued to be spectacular and so incredibly engaging and I left every chapter inevitably wanting more. As usual, I was also positively buzzing about Herron’s mastery of seamless dialogue; was blown away by how naturally it all read. I feel this way particularly because dialogue in books can so easily be painful and hard to do right. Writing comedy especially, often proves impossible for some. But Herron’s books are filled with such consistent humour, wit, and brilliant cleverness that I know I’m in for a treat when I get to each installment of this series.

In a move that will surprise absolutley no one, River Cartwright is still my favourite Slow Horse, and as we find in Spook Street, he’s having a really tough time of it. Struggling to accept his grandfather’s mortality and worsening dementia, River – in panicked desperation – ends up unintentionally making things worse, and drags all the Slow Horses down with him, too.

There’s a bit more urgency to this book than the ones that came before it, and although all the Slough House books in general deal with serious topics and themes, Spook Street carries more emotional weight than those that came before it. Largely in part because of River’s ailing grandfather, and MI5 great, David Cartwright. Watching as River loses his grandfather, who is essentially his sole relation, is heartbreaking, and it’s his desperate fight against this that fuels the narrative of Spook Street.

David, who has found himself the target of a mysterious assassination attempt that hails from France, gets passed around like a sack of potatoes between locations as the Slow Horses do their best to keep him safe. For River. (And also because they fear that someone as legendary to the Service as David may accidentally start leaking some of their security secrets.)

Not only River, but more and more, I find myself excitedly waiting to read about Shirley Dander and J.K. Coe’s ventures as life at Slough House keeps trudging onwards. Marcus Longridge is suffering more than most it seems, and finds himself frequently turning to gambling as he tries to pursue some excitement in his life. Louisa Guy is just finding her footing again, after Min’s death; while Roddy Ho, as usual, continues to be just awful, consistently moreso in the books than in the television show. Catherine Standish has the patience of a saint for everyone involved; and, of course, despite his rather repugnant demeanour, and positively rude disposition (that sometimes borders on being pure cruelty), Jackson Lamb still holds a soft spot in my heart, too.

But Mick Herron doesn’t pull his punches, and absolutley noone is safe in this series. We lose Slow Horses at a drop of a hat and are introduced to new members just as quick. I just want to gather them all up safely in bubble wrap, because goodness knows some of their idiocy is what gets them into a few of these utterly bizarre situations. But not only.

The more I read, the more it appears true that some of the powers that be are responsible for why these characters have been moved to Slough House in the first place. Diana Taverner orchestrated River’s admittence in the first book (granted, his actions since then have often be stubborn and headstrong; acting on a hero-complex that he has undoubtedly adopted because of his heritage and peer expectations.) We learn that Moira Tregorian is in Slough House because of the newly-appointed-to-First-Desk Claude Whelan; and Roddy’s been placed there because he’s insufferable to be around for any length of time at all.

Still, I think that the Slow Horses get an unfairly biased bad press.

At times.

As usual, it was very interesting to observe the changes that had been made from book to screen. In the show Lamb and Bad Sam Chapman have history, with the latter even acting as an informant for Lamb in an earlier season. The two are friendlier, which gives more depth to Lamb’s character and allows him to appear more caring and attentive for television audiences.

Roddy Ho still sucks though and, realising Louisa has exactly zero interest in him, starts calling her names in his head and being rather vile. This aspect of his personality is rather muted in the show, and so reading it for the first time came as quite the shock.

But most notably, I think, is the change the Apple TV+ show made to have Claude Whelan, the new MI5 First Desk, be the one to push for the “shoot to kill” on River’s head. Diana appears shocked at this call and actually voices her concerns against the idea.

Whereas, in the book, it’s actually Diana who plants this idea in Claude’s head: that killing River is their “chance to make everything go away.” Claude, surprising me, pushes back with, “young Cartwright is not an enemy of the state.” Diana eventually wins Claude over and has his agreement on the matter. These differences, I do feel, make a bottom-level change to these characters.

Because by contrast, book-Claude comes across as far more intelligent than his on-screen counterpart; and Television-Diana far more caring and human. She is less like someone who would step over others to get to where they want to be. In the show, she’s even the one who visits Lamb and Slough House after the office shootout, which makes her character more humane and mindful.

I sort of feel that I’m viewing two different narratives when it comes to the books and the television show, just that they feature characters that share the same names.

Still, I adore our rag-tag crew of – somewhat incompetent – misfits in either medium. They are so dear to me and I can’t wait to read more soon!