“Grippingly claustrophobic....” not my words, but those of someone on the staff of Marie Claire. Hmmm, really.
Where do I begin? With Abi, the main character? She is the surviving twin, her sister Lucy having died some eighteen months previously. Abi, riddled with guilt, relocates to Bath to begin afresh. A chance encounter with Bea, who looks strikingly similar to Lucy, sparks a friendship not only with Bea but – would you believe it – her twin brother Ben. He of the long legs, the lanky but substantial body, hazel eyes, freckles and tousled hair – just your average, every day, ordinary looking guy. Surely Abi, poor lonely, grieving,needy Abi, is not going to fall for Ben – oops, too late, within seconds of meeting him she's already blushing, feeling shockwaves and practically drooling. Well – I didn't see that one coming.
Now Bea is somewhat possessive of her brother and does her very best to disentangle Abi and Ben. There is obviously a dark secret Bea and Ben are keeping – something they've done in the past and have run away from. This is hinted at frequently between them, but Abi is kept in the dark. Have you guessed how old these twins are yet? Sixteen? Eighteen? Nope, not even close – they're thirtytwo! Was it the author's intention to make them behave like juveniles, or is it her writing? I suspect the latter as the whole book smacks of teenage writing, aimed at teenagers. The fact that Abi and Lucy were twins and Bea and Ben are twins is rammed home so often, as are their physical characteristics such as the hazel eyes and ski-sloped noses, which are wrinkled with alarming regularity.
Is the author being paid to advertise certain products? Why else is it necessary to tell us that Bea wears Emma Bridgewater oven gloves when removing food from the Aga? She seems always to dress in tea-dresses, usually made or designed by someone called Alice Temperley – but Abi prefers Gap.
This is just so badly written, so contrived, so predictable. To sum up it's suitable for rainy afternoon or deckchair reading for those who don't want to tax their brains too much – or at all. This novel apparently won the Marie Claire Debut Novel Award; one wonders – well, I do anyway – what the others were like.