⁠Nostalgia Corner: ‘Murder Most Unladylike’

British boarding schools have been romanticised for generations, with countless children dreaming of joining their favourite fictional institutions alongside beloved characters. Whether it’s heading down to Cornwall to join the girls at Malory Towers, or journeying north to the windswept Scottish Highlands to walk the halls of Hogwarts, these stories have captured young imaginations for decades.

Beneath the polished exterior, Daisy is much sharper than she lets on, carefully performing a persona to fit in

For me, the dream school was a little closer to home, in Gloucestershire: Deepdean School for Girls. This fictional school comes to life in the mystery-filled adventures of Daisy Wells and Hazel Wong, founders of the Wells and Wong Detective Society.

At first glance, Daisy Wells fits the mould of the classic boarding school heroine – popular, blonde, blue-eyed, sporty, and clever (but never a swot). Yet Hazel quickly realises there’s more to Daisy than meets the eye. Beneath the polished exterior, Daisy is much sharper than she lets on, carefully performing a persona to fit in. When she discovers Hazel has seen through the act, an unlikely friendship is born – leading to the creation of their very own detective society.

Hazel, a Hong Kong-born girl attending a British school in the 1930s, arrives with a head full of boarding school stories and the same idealised expectations as many readers. But fantasy soon gives way to reality. As an outsider, Hazel faces prejudice and isolation, but gradually finds her place through her bond with Daisy and their spirited roommates – Kitty, Lavinia, and Beanie. Mimicking Daisy’s carefully crafted confidence helps Hazel make friends and claim space for herself at Deepdean – something that deeply resonated with ten-year-old me and my undiagnosed autism at the time.

We grew up together, in a way – and returning to their world, knowing how they’ll grow, felt (as the title of this article suggests) wonderfully nostalgic

What begins with minor mysteries (like the ‘Case of the Missing Tie’) soon escalates. Their detective skills are truly tested when Hazel discovers the lifeless body of their science teacher, Miss Bell, sprawled on the gymnasium floor. But when she returns just minutes later, the body has vanished.

Rereading this book was the perfect mental reset after weeks of essays (though, at the time of writing, I still have more to finish). I was a few years younger than Daisy and Hazel when I first read the series, and I’d reached their age by the time it concluded. We grew up together, in a way – and returning to their world, knowing how they’ll grow, felt (as the title of this article suggests) wonderfully nostalgic. The girls truly act their age – for better and for worse – and seeing their friendship deepen reminded me that it wasn’t just the mysteries or the boarding school slang that made me fall in love with these books, but the characters themselves.

As for the plot, it had been so long since my first read that I’d completely forgotten who killed Miss Bell and why – as well as the secrets each suspect was hiding (because, in any good mystery, everyone has something to conceal). The reveal was just as shocking to me now as it was to my ten-year-old self – though that may also be down to my coursework-fried brain. Daisy and Hazel aren’t the only stars of the story either; it was a joy to re-meet characters who will return throughout the series and spot early mentions of those who will appear later on.

These moments root the story both in its 1930s setting and in the world we live in today, offering young readers a powerful message: such injustices existed then and persist now – and they must never be tolerated

Unsurprisingly – given that the first book was published in 2014 and the final one in 2020 – the series holds up remarkably well. The racism Hazel faces isn’t ignored or downplayed; Robin Stevens handles it with nuance and sensitivity, never talking down to her readers. Without giving away spoilers, the books also address other forms of prejudice – religious, racial, and related to sexuality – with the same thoughtful maturity. These moments root the story both in its 1930s setting and in the world we live in today, offering young readers a powerful message: such injustices existed then and persist now – and they must never be tolerated.

Overall, preparing to write this article has made me want to reread the entire series next time I visit home, where the books currently reside in my wardrobe. I think that’s a well-earned reward after weeks of trawling through academic articles and secondary sources. But for now, it’s back to prep.