This book opens with a slice of domesticity: a frazzled wife, an overworked husband, a sickly child, with plenty of eyes that widened and narrowed, faces that crumpled, cringed and continually frowned while everyone folds their arms across their chest. A plethora of dry, mundane backstory including the hot ex-boyfriend from Australia who was the perfect free spirit. Then he pops up on Twitter and takes our heroine back to a fantasy in her head.
This is very much how it is until half-way through. Then the story begins with suspicions about why the toddler is ill all the time. A family secret, which is easy to guess, is often referred to and off-page arguments make the text repetitive. Everyone is in the frame at some point and the one whodunnit is a surprise, and an unrealistic one at that. The ending is a little far-fetched and overly romantic.
Billed as a psychological thriller, this book is neither. There is some reference to mental illness but the story is a family saga with issues such as childcare, taking care of elderly relatives, work-life balance and family dynamics as the main themes. Easy to read and not unpleasant.
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