Arthwaite
Welcome to Arthwaite, a fictional city in West Yorkshire. Like a modern-day Brigadoon, it comes into existence only when you enter one of my books. Its neighbours, Leeds and Bradford, sit shoulder to shoulder with an often hazy delineation between the two. Somehow, Arthwaite nestles between them. Characters may cross freely into actual places. So why go to the trouble of inventing somewhere?
In an early draft of The Price We Pay, I had a gruesome murder scene taking place in the car park of a well-known restaurant. On reflection, I could see how the owners might have a problem with double murders on the premises. It would definitely put you off your fillet steak. Now, all of that kind of action occurs in a completely made-up environment. Any similarity to real establishments is completely coincidental.
Several people have theories regarding disguised real-life locations. I can honestly say they’ve all been wrong. (Not that I would admit it if they were right!)
As you would expect, for two cities so close together, Leeds and Bradford share many characteristics, whether it’s geography, architecture or history. Their populations, however, are fiercely loyal, perhaps best illustrated by the intense but friendly rivalry between the Bradford Bulls and Leeds Rhinos. Personally, I’ve spent all but one year of my life living in the area. I was born in Bradford and call it home now, but I’ve also lived many happy years in Leeds. I have divided sporting loyalties — Bradford Bulls and Leeds United is a controversial combination in these parts. If you’ve read The Fifth Tweet, you may guess how I came by these loyalties.
It’s inevitable that in adding a third city into this mix, there are many similarities. It would be slightly odd if Arthwaite resembled Rome or New York, rather than its actual neighbours. Having said that, Arthwaite has its own Colosseum and a vast park in the inner city. The enormous concert hall was central to The Price We Pay, and Waller Park features heavily in the upcoming Book 2 – Fair Play.
I wanted the Arthwaite Police to be independent of the real-life West Yorkshire force for a couple of reasons. It meant I had much more artistic licence to portray corruption and general skulduggery, upsetting no one! It would also be easy to lose Carrie and her team in a much larger force. I wanted the force to be small enough that nobody questioned the number of juicy cases that came Carrie’s way. It also allowed me to house the lot in a hastily converted former hotel when their previous HQ fell down. I loved the idea of a city knowing its place and making do, rather than having a shiny modern building to play in.
Of course, Frankie and the rest of the cast of The Fifth Series walk the same streets even though they view them more light-heartedly. They have their own police officers watching over them, but Cagney and Casey are adept at avoiding contact with Carrie’s Major Crimes Unit. High-speed ice-cream van chases are more their style.
Repeat after me: I will not get sidetracked by getting Carrie involved with Frankie’s adventures. Then again, anything can happen in Arthwaite…
‘Arthwaite in the middle of the nineteenth century was awash with money. A small number of men, and it was always men, quickly learnt how to amass sizeable fortunes. A promise of regular work and a roof over their heads attracted workers from the rest of the Yorkshire countryside. Those green fields were also home to vast numbers of sheep, a vital resource for the countless mills and factories that the men commanded. The mills needed machinery, so factories were built, turning local iron ore to steel. The foundries demanded coal, a plentiful black gold deep beneath the green countryside.’
