Madam, Will You Talk? by Mary Stewart

Widowed Charity Selborne had been greatly looking forward to her driving holiday through France with her old friend Louise - long, leisurely days under the hot sun, enjoying the beauty of the parched Provencal landscape. But when Charity arrived at their hotel in the picturesque French town of Avignon, she had no way of knowing that she was to become the principal player in the last act of a strange and brutal tragedy. Most of it had already been played. There had been love--and lust--and revenge and fear and murder.

Very soon her dreams turn into a nightmare, when by befriending a terrified boy and catching the attention of his enigmatic, possibly murderous father, Charity has inadvertently placed herself center stage. She becomes enmeshed in the schemes of a gang of murderers. And now the killer, with blood enough on his hands, is waiting in the wings.

This is my all-time favourite of all the Mary Stewart novels. Although I must have read this several time in the 70s, it was as fresh and enthralling as the first time. Although the reading of Emilia Fox was very pleasant, the speed was awfully slow.

Just when I'd make up my mind that Charity really was TSTL, she'd do something clever, like drive like a race car driver, or finally manage to trick a Bad Guy. So, maybe my review deserves another half a star, but...
I read most of Mary Stewart's thrillers in high school, and the sexist 50's milieu doesn't hold up for me upon re-reading. [spoiler:] I'm particularly nonplussed by the INSTANT falling in love followed 10 days later by a wedding. Nope.
I do give Stewart props for writing a thriller in which the heroine doesn't wield deus-ex-machina good luck but rather is plagued by rather comprehensively bad luck (albeit plot-moving-forward bad luck) and always manages to aaaaaalmost get away...only to turn the corner and into the arms of her pursuer. That feels more like real life.
Plucky David was my favourite character, and if his father's insta-marriage to Charity means that David gets what he wants too, I guess I can consider it a happy ending. As long as no one offers me a cigarette and orders me to obey orders whilst demeaning my naturally feminine lack of logic. Just sayin'.
Also: my least favourite Mary Stewart title. Whaaa??