On Saturday, 24 May 2025, I headed to the Kingsmead Book Fair and sat in on a thriller writers' session where Gail Schimmel unpacked her latest novel, The Finish Line. I started reading it at 11 a.m. on Sunday and finished it three hours later.
Here’s why you should get your copy soon.
This Is Domestic Noir — Jozi Style
Gail Schimmel plants The Finish Line firmly in the genre of domestic noir — a psychological thriller that asks: what happens when danger lives not outside the home, but inside it?
Here, it’s not a murderer in the shadows or a stranger at the door. It’s the woman you’ve known since childhood. The friend you’ve called “family.” The one who smiles wide — and cuts deeper.
Brenda and Denver’s friendship is the engine of this book. It runs on resentment, competitiveness, and emotional manipulation. Schimmel uses familiar spaces — school, suburban homes, PTA meetings, coffee shops — to turn up the tension. It’s Johannesburg’s northern suburbs as a stage for personal implosion, told through the eyes of a working mother of two, a practicing GP, and her “best friend” from school.
Brenda: Straddling Class, Belonging, and Boundaries
Brenda, our narrator, was born to marathon-running parents in a modest home. Her smarts and athletic ability earn her a scholarship to an elite private school. There, she meets Denver — and starts a friendship that will define, and nearly destroy, her life.
Brenda’s relationship to privilege is one of conditional access — she’s accepted, but always aware she’s not of that world. Her self-doubt is quietly internalized, and that’s what makes her vulnerable to Denver’s barbed affection.
She marries young — to her high school sweetheart — and forms true, grounded friendships with a circle of long-time women. A circle that all see Denver clearly, even as Brenda keeps giving her more chances.
Denver: The Smiling Threat
During the panel discussion, Gail Schimmel said: “We all know someone like Denver.” And we do — unfortunately. The one who is obsessed with being the best, whose identity is built on external performance, and who grew up in a family where being seen as perfect mattered more than being loved.
Denver is domestic noir's dream character: she doesn’t shout, she simmers. She’s not a villain in the obvious sense — she’s worse. She’s the friend who frames cruelty as kindness, the one who makes you question your reality.
She’s polished, successful, admired — and utterly toxic.
The Cost of Staying Silent
What makes this book burn is how believable Brenda’s loyalty is. Even as her friends warn her. Even as her family suffers. Even as stories about Brenda begin circulating — and that awful line, “but you’re not that,” rears its head.
Maybe that’s what The Finish Line captures best: the slow corrosion that happens when someone chips away at you just enough to make you doubt your own worth. And how women — taught to be nice, loyal, and non-confrontational — often take far too long to say, “Enough.”
A Global Story in South African Skin
Yes, this story is set in Johannesburg, with 90s racial and class dynamics humming beneath the surface. But it could unfold anywhere — London’s leafy suburbs, Sydney’s North Shore, LA’s gated communities. Because the themes — competition, class anxiety, the emotional minefields of female friendship — are universal.
When Denver Becomes Real
“Luckily, I do not have a Denver in my life now. But I did.”
The beauty — and danger — of this story is that it’s not unique. Every woman who’s had that friend will pause. Will feel the ache. And maybe, like Brenda, will find herself finally reaching the finish line — not of a race, but of a friendship that never deserved the distance run.
Hindsight may be 20/20. But when you’re in the middle of a toxic friendship — or dealing with the undeserved aftermath — self-doubt seeps in.
This story, delivered with terrifying ease, gives you pause. It’s a sharp reminder of how those friendships twist our perceptions and destabilize our self-worth. It’s also a tribute to the people who see the forest for the trees — and who have the courage to tell you what you can’t yet see.
An extraordinary novel. A must-read. But be prepared.