Books and Bakes: The Twyford Code by Janice Hallett

Books and Bakes Book Club Review: 

At first glance, The Twyford Code appears to be a mystery novel like many others—cryptic clues, a cold case, and a cast of characters from a troubled past. But very quickly, it becomes clear that Janice Hallett has created something entirely different. This is not just a mystery to be read; it is a puzzle to be deciphered. And more than that, it is a deeply layered exploration of memory, identity, and the stories we tell ourselves in order to survive.

Following on from her highly acclaimed debut The Appeal, Hallett returns with another unconventional narrative structure—this time, a series of audio file transcriptions. Rather than presenting a straightforward, chronological plot, the novel invites the reader to piece together events from a sequence of voice memos left behind by a man called Steven “Smithy” Smith. What begins as a simple investigation into a missing person case becomes something much larger: a journey into the heart of a national conspiracy, a reflection on childhood trauma, and a contemplation of how the smallest choices can define our entire lives.

A Story Reconstructed from Fragments

The novel’s central character, Smithy, is a former gang member and recently released prisoner, now trying to make sense of the past. Years ago, when he was a schoolboy struggling with literacy and discipline, his teacher Miss Iles introduced him to the books of a children’s author named Edith Twyford. Twyford’s books, reminiscent of Enid Blyton’s work in tone and content, are steeped in post-war values, boarding schools, and plucky adventures. But according to a growing internet conspiracy, these seemingly harmless stories might contain hidden messages, codes, or even state secrets.

Smithy recalls a particular school trip to Bournemouth, linked to one of the Twyford books, during which Miss Iles vanished without a trace. The official story is that she simply left the teaching profession, but Smithy has always had the sense that something more sinister occurred. With the help of an old mobile phone and a recording app he barely understands, he begins documenting his attempts to uncover the truth.

Each chapter is a transcription of one of Smithy’s voice memos. The device he uses often mishears or mistranslates his speech, leaving the text riddled with errors—some humorous, some frustrating, and many revealing. The lack of punctuation, incorrect words, and inconsistent formatting require the reader to stay alert. Hallett doesn’t spoon-feed any information; rather, she challenges us to read between the lines—literally.

Codebreaking and Conspiracies

As Smithy retraces his steps, reconnecting with former classmates and following up on the Edith Twyford theory, the mystery broadens. Were Twyford’s books actually written as propaganda tools during the war? Is there a code embedded in the text that reveals a hidden truth about British history? What exactly did Miss Iles discover, and why would anyone want to keep it a secret?

These questions drive the narrative forward, but they also create layers of intrigue that make the book such an immersive read. Hallett plays with the tropes of golden-age detective fiction and cold war spy thrillers while also examining the darker edges of British culture—class division, educational inequality, and the criminal justice system.

Through Smithy’s exploration of the so-called Twyford Code, we are drawn into a parallel investigation: not just what happened to Miss Iles, but who Smithy really is. His narration is informal, conversational, and occasionally evasive. We learn things slowly, and some of what we learn turns out to be misleading. There is always the sense that we are not being told everything—not because Smithy is untrustworthy, but because he himself is unsure of the truth. His understanding of the past is fragmented and emotional, shaped by decades of pain and loss.

Structure as Substance

One of the most striking features of The Twyford Code is its format. The decision to tell the story entirely through audio file transcripts is not just a stylistic gimmick. It serves several powerful purposes.

First, it reflects Smithy’s own limitations. He is not a conventional narrator. He struggles with literacy, has a history of violence, and approaches the world with a kind of hesitant curiosity. The audio files are his way of recording the investigation without needing to write anything down. They are raw and immediate, and the transcription errors remind us of the gap between what is said, what is heard, and what is understood.

Second, the format places the reader in the role of investigator. There are no chapter titles, no helpful summaries, and no guiding narrator to interpret events. We must make connections, spot patterns, and question inconsistencies. This makes for an unusually interactive reading experience. It is not a passive story to absorb; it is a jigsaw puzzle that demands participation.

Finally, the structure reinforces one of the novel’s central themes: the unreliability of memory and narrative. Just as the transcription software mishears and misrepresents Smithy’s voice, so too do we all misremember and reinterpret the past. The question of what actually happened becomes less important than how people believe it happened—and why.

A Character Study in Disguise

Although The Twyford Code is packaged as a thriller and structured as a mystery, it is, at its heart, a deeply moving character study. Smithy is not a traditional protagonist. He is older, working class, and shaped by trauma. His story is one of missed chances, social exclusion, and the long-term consequences of childhood neglect.

Throughout the novel, we see glimpses of the young boy he once was—the child who clung to the stories in Edith Twyford’s books as a way to escape a harsh and confusing world. His admiration for Miss Iles, who was one of the few adults to show him kindness, is touching and sincere. His longing to understand what happened to her is not just about solving a mystery; it is about finding closure for a wound that has remained open for decades.

There is also a quiet but profound commentary on the criminal justice system and the assumptions society makes about people with Smithy’s background. His efforts to do something good, to reconnect with the past and to protect others from harm, are often met with suspicion or indifference. But he perseveres, not out of vanity or self-interest, but because he wants to make things right.

Twists, Revelations, and the Power of Perspective

It is impossible to discuss The Twyford Code in depth without acknowledging the major twist that occurs late in the novel. While this review will not reveal it, suffice it to say that Hallett delivers a revelation that forces readers to reconsider everything they have read so far. It is an extraordinary example of how form and content can combine to produce a moment of genuine literary surprise.

What makes the twist so effective is not just its cleverness, but its emotional weight. It is not a twist for the sake of shock; it is a deeply rooted development that aligns with the novel’s themes of identity, perception, and the stories we build around ourselves. Once revealed, it casts the preceding pages in a new light and invites a re-reading of the entire text.

By the end of the novel, the reader is left not only with the satisfaction of having solved a mystery, but also with a sense of loss, understanding, and quiet admiration for a character who tried—despite everything—to do something meaningful with his life.

A Bold, Intelligent Novel

The Twyford Code is not an easy read in the traditional sense. It requires patience, close attention, and a willingness to engage with ambiguity. But for those who enjoy literary experimentation and are drawn to layered mysteries, it is a hugely rewarding experience.

Hallett’s writing is thoughtful, precise, and packed with subtle clues. Her ability to write convincingly in the voice of someone like Smithy, with warmth, humour, and vulnerability, is a testament to her skill. And her decision to build a novel around a format that others might dismiss as too difficult or too niche has paid off in spades.

This is a book about more than codes. It is about how we reconstruct meaning from fragments. It is about the small acts of kindness that change lives. It is about regret, and recovery, and the possibility of redemption.

For our book club, it sparked conversation not only about the plot, but about the ways in which people process trauma, the role of literacy and education in shaping opportunity, and the need for stories that reflect lives so often overlooked in mainstream fiction.

Janice Hallett continues to push the boundaries of what the crime and mystery genres can do. The Twyford Code is a testament to the power of storytelling—both as a tool for discovery and a means of survival.