4.5 stars rounded up.
Fearne Hill kicks off her new
Mis-shapes
contemporary romance series with Maybe, a gorgeous slow-burn romance between step/adopted brothers that explores the complexities of grief, the weight of living with unhealthy expectations and learning to let go of those expectations to find happiness and forge your own path in life.
Overworked junior doctor Isaac Fitz-Henry has taken a rare day off from the frenetically busy Emergency Department he currently works in in order to attend the reading of his late father’s will. (For American readers, ‘junior’ doctors in the NHS are fully qualified with several years of experience under their belts, so ‘junior’ is something of a misnomer.) Professor Sir Henry Fitz-Henry KBE BM BCh FRCS (Eng) was one of the world’s most renowned cardiac surgeons, a high-profile figure famous for his many charitable endeavours, both in the UK and internationally, whose acts of benevolence won him great acclaim. Those acts, however, hid a calculating man whose charitable impulses were usually prompted by the opportunity for self-aggrandisement, and who was also a total shit in his personal life; Isaac was nine or ten when he found out that his illustrious father had been living a double-life and had a second family, or rather that he, Isaac, was part of that second family, the first consisting of a wife and adopted son, Ezra. The sudden discovery of the years-long deception led to the death of Ezra’s mother in an accident, after which the devastated, grieving and furious teen moved in with the rest of the Fitz-Henrys.
Although Isaac quickly developed a case of hero-worship for Ezra – who is four years his senior – and the two of them bonded over a shared antipathy towards their father, Ezra never really fit in. Still hurt, angry and grieving over his mum, he’d lash out and behave obnoxiously, his stepmother his usual target because his father was rarely around. When Sir Henry was around, Ezra bore the brunt of his ready disapproval and the pair butted heads all the time, until Ezra walked out when he was eighteen following a massive row. Isaac hasn’t seen or heard from Ezra in the decade since, although he thinks of him often and wonders where he is and how he’s doing, but has no idea how to go about tracking him down.
Isaac knows Ezra has been invited to the will reading and half-expects him not to show. But he does – all lanky grace, black eyeliner, sharp cheekbones and sarcasm, and Isaac is uncomfortably reminded of his long-ago crush – and that it has never gone away. Then the will is read, and Ezra’s name is not mentioned until a short note at the end stating he is not to receive anything from the estate. Isaac is indignant and furious on his brother’s behalf and insists there must be some mistake, but there isn’t – Sir Henry cut his eldest son from his life and left him nothing at his death. Isaac insists he’s going to arrange to give Ezra his proper share of the family money, but Ezra doesn’t want it. With a snarky parthian shot, he walks out of Isaac’s life for the second time. Isaac really hopes it isn’t for good.
Isaac and Ezra are superbly drawn characters who have both struggled to overcome the awful experiences of their childhoods. They’re polar opposites in many ways, but those experiences have created a connection that has never really broken, no matter how much Ezra has tried to distance himself from it. He doesn’t want anything to do with the family who rejected him; he certainly doesn’t want Isaac’s money or his pity or anything else from him, and isn’t shy about making that clear, taking his anger and frustration out on Isaac and generally behaving like a complete knob to him to start with. Ezra is proud and he’s hurting; his father’s beyond-the-grave snub has brought back unpleasant memories of all the times Sir Henry made Ezra believe he was wrong and hard to love - but with those painful memories come memories of Isaac, the intense, nerdy kid who’d made everything seem easier and brighter. And Ezra realises that there is something he wants from the Fitz-Henrys after all - to have Isaac back in his life.
Isaac spends most of his life being completely knackered, but he loves helping people despite all the petty frustrations he faces every day. His career path has been mapped out for as long as he can remember; become a doctor, pass the surgical exams, take up a cardiac fellowship post to expand his research, get published, get a formal training post in Sir Henry’s old department… it’s a long road and far from an easy one, but becoming a cardiac surgeon is what he’s always known he’s supposed to do. Having spent so long going along with other people’s expectations that he’s going to follow in his father’s footsteps makes it hard for Isaac to admit that perhaps cardiac surgery isn’t what he really wants to do and he’s lost sight of the fact that he gets to choose what he does with his life.
Despite the overwork, the stress and the high expectations, it would seem, at first glance, that Isaac has his life more under control than Ezra; he’s got a good job, he has a family who loves him (even though he doesn’t see them often) a very nice place to live and is now, thanks to Sir Henry, quite wealthy, whereas Ezra had no-one to lean on when he walked out and is clearly struggling to make ends meet. Yet Ezra is thriving. He’s so strong and so unapologetically himself, and where Isaac is exhausted and running on fumes most of the time, Ezra has struck out on his own and made a life and a new family for himself, handles the crap life throws at him mostly without complaint, and above all, he has his nine-year-old son, Jonty, who is the apple of his eye and the light of his life.
The romantic relationship between Ezra and Isaac is a nicely done slow-burn filled with lots of longing and affection and warmth and good humour. Ezra is less fazed about their familial connection – they don’t share blood or DNA after all – than Isaac is to start with, although Isaac’s reservations about embarking on a relationship come more as a result of inexperience and worrying he’ll fuck things up and lose Ezra all over again. The depth of their love for each other and the strength of their emotional bond comes through strongly – it’s clear that these two are a perfect fit despite being so different, and that they each bring something the other badly needs to the relationship. Ezra helps Isaac to realise that his wants and needs are important, too, that he’s his own person and not just an extension of their father, and Isaac helps Ezra banish those deep-seated childhood fears that told him he wasn’t worth loving and wasn’t good enough, and that accepting help doesn’t make him weak or mean he’s unable to cope.
The author’s background as a medical professional in the NHS enables her to paint a very realistic portrait of the workings of a busy emergency department, and she doesn’t shy away from exploring the way years of chronic underfunding have taken a real toll on the staff, who somehow, and against all the odds, keep things going and for the most part, do an amazing job in very difficult circumstances. It’s not preachy or tub-thumbing – it’s important to an understanding of Isaac’s character to know what he deals with every day, and why his dedication and willingness to help out isn’t always a good thing.
The story has plenty of the down-to-earth humour I so enjoy about Ms. Hill’s work, and the secondary characters are superbly drawn - Isaac’s friend and colleague Alaric is a stand-out (I hope he’s getting a book of his own!), and Jonty is very much a regular nine-year-old rather than a clichéd plot-moppet.
Maybe is nuanced, heartfelt and emotionally satisfying, a lovely romance about two people coming to terms with the past and working their way towards happiness, and I loved it. It’s a great start to this new series, and I’m eagerly awaiting the next instalment.
Note: The story deals with grief following the death of a parent, and there are mentions of mental health issues, past substance abuse and a brief description of a cot death.