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The Sioux appeared in 1965, followed in 1972 by its sequel, The Gold Tip Pfitzer. Their author was no enfant terrible nurtured on creative writing courses but a 62-year-old character actress - Irene Handl. What surprised critics was the gap between the stereotyped roles in which Handl specialised (loveable cockney landladies, eccentric mediums) and her savagely individual fiction. The novels are set in a world of Creole racing driver millionaires, octoroon servants, children fed on peach slices soaked in champagne and pet monkeys with jewelled collars. An Englishman, Castleton, marries into the rich and amoral Benoir family ("the Sioux"), which made its fortune in the slave trade. And old habits die hard.Castleton's wife Marguerite, beauty and queen bitch, is 26 and already on her third marriage. In her bureau she keeps a whip once used on household slaves.

It comes in useful when she wants to beat her nine-year-old invalid son George into submission ("I don't spoil him... I love him far too much to let him make a nuisance of himself.")Alternately bullied and feted, George is dying of leukaemia. The pivot on which all the relationships turn, he's known variously by the clan as Momou, L'ill Marie, Puss, Dauphin, Little Rubbish, Your Flirt and Woozy.If it sounds camp, that's because it is. Characters natter in Ol' Kintuck ("P'tit m'sieu gettin' to look more like Madame votre mre ever' day"), and even old Castleton addresses his brother - a colonel - as "old darling" and "old dear".Reading The Sioux and The Gold Tip Pfitzer is like eating one marron glac too many: something between sweetness and nausea. Even nature is shown as cloying and rotten - "the rocking wands of hundreds of buddleias.. candied with a coating of flies".