Slow Horses shows a motley crew of MI5 agents stuck in Slough House. They’re the misfits, the ones nobody wanted. But guess what? They stumble into wild missions that push them to their limits. Hidden talents pop up everywhere. It’s a rollercoaster of action, laughs and twists. Slow Horses keeps you on edge, from start to finish.

Meet the characters from Slow Horses

Louisa Guy

Louisa is the kind of quietly sharp operator who slips under your radar until she doesn’t — then you’re like, oh, that was her all along. She’s precise, a little too neat maybe, but also has this sudden streak of chaos (funny, right?) when things go sideways and she surprises everyone. Loves lists, hates small talk, probably hums tunelessly while doing administrative murder—metaphorically. Also, and this is random but true in my head, she collects vintage fountain pens and once brought one to a stakeout because why not.

Roddy Ho

Roddy is the techy, slightly wired genius who can make CCTV do backflips and will roll his eyes at you while saving your life — often in the same minute. He’s sarcastic, fast-talking, and definitely has a playlist for every mood (angry, triumphant, existential dread). Underneath the snark there’s loyalty and a weirdly soft spot for bad microwave food; he swears by two-minute noodles. Sometimes he comes off impatient, sometimes he’s the calm centre, so pick one, he won’t tell you which it’ll be today.

Catherine Standish

Catherine is dry-witted, fierce in the small ways, and always three steps ahead even when she pretends not to be; she’s the human who quietly keeps the world from falling apart. Recovering, complicated, and tender in places she won’t show you, she mixes gallows humour with surprising warmth — and yes, she drinks tea like it’s a weapon. She’ll call out nonsense with a single perfectly timed phrase and then make you a sandwich because she’s that person. Also, she occasionally abandons plans for long, moody walks and then sends a postcard, which I find delightfully contradictory.

Diana Taverner

Diana is the high-level, polished, slightly terrifying kind of strategist who can ruin your day with a single raised eyebrow and a spreadsheet. Ruthless when she needs to be, brilliant always, she’s the calm hurricane behind major decisions — and she dresses like it’s a uniform, even if she swears she doesn’t care about clothes (lie). There’s a human core buried under layers of steel and protocol, though you’d have to be very brave or very foolish to look for it. She also owns impossibly neat gloves and possibly an inexplicable fondness for classical music while making ruthless choices.

River Cartwright

River is earnest, hot-headed in the best way, and spectacularly determined to prove he belongs — which makes him both endearing and disastrously impulsive. He wants to be a proper agent, practices his speeches in the mirror, and sometimes forgets to think things through (read: explosive enthusiasm). He’s decent, which feels almost radical in that environment, and tries hard not to let his mistakes define him — though he’s good at learning the hard way. Tiny detail: he has a thing for model aeroplanes and keeps losing the glue, which is both cute and somehow tragic.

Jackson Lamb

Lamb is a walking disaster of genius — slovenly, profane, and infuriatingly sharp; you both hate him and would happily follow him into whatever mess he cooks up. He smokes, he drinks tea like it’s a strategic resource, he yells, and he has the most painfully accurate takes on human stupidity you’ll ever hear. Under all that grumpiness, though, is this weird, stubborn loyalty and a soft spot he fiercely denies; also he hoards snacks in secret drawers and pretends he doesn’t. He’s chaotic but reliable in the exact way that keeps the whole dysfunctional place together, so yeah, he’s basically the messy heart of it all.