Two women sharing the same surname of Perry, attend a clinic in The USA for IVF treatment. Tess, the English woman is desperate for a girl, Annie an American just wants a baby. The title of the book suggests that things don't go to plan, and indeed they don't.
With Tess's son Freddie approaching his third birthday she is convinced Something is Wrong. He is a Difficult Child prone to temper tantrums and biting other children. He also looks nothing like her or Italian husband Matteo. They have two older boys and have suffered the loss of a daughter several years before, which is the reason Tess wanted a girl. She's overwrought, overworked, stressed out and hormonal, possibly menopausal, and dislikes Freddie, eventually becoming convinced he is not the child they should have had.
Meanwhile Annie, living in Florida with her husband Carl and Willow, the beautiful-daughter-who-looks-nothing-like-them (what a surprise!). Carl and Annie are laid back, sloppy, untidy who absolutely adore Willow and cannot believe their luck.
So here we have four stereotypes – Tess and Matteo living in Surrey with their branded goods – the iMac and the Balzac armchair, each successful business people. On the opposite side Annie and Carl who live in sloppy, comfortable chaos without a brand name to their names. Four people I can no longer read about because between them there is not one likeable feature or quality.
The writing is often clumsy and odd:
When Tess suggests counselling for Freddie, this is Matteo's reply:
“Come on, Tess, you don't eat meat, but you aren't imposing that on the kids. The same should go for counselling”. Can someone please tell me the relevance of that first sentence?
Another inexplicable sentence from Matteo:
“ Go and get some arnica gel” Matteo says to Luca, pointing towards the balloons netted on the ceiling.
Does that make sense? Is the arnica gel in with the balloons? If so, why? If not why point to them?
The author likes detail – a lot of it. We're given unnecessary explanations for just about everything from why the baby monitor is switched on, to how Tess fills a kettle, to Matteo's pouring a glass of whisky. A death is described as “a little death”. What? Tess's line of thinking is often totally off the wall: thinking about how she takes food out of the freezer only to throw it away days later is compared to what happens to unused embryos.
How many offices do you know that have chandeliers? Tess's does. Of course it does, it's to go with the iMac and Balzac chair.
Foreheads don't just frown, they fold, or they crimp, while Tess's blood pumps, wildly and out of control on so many occasions it's a wonder the woman can function. The author's use of the word “vagina” suggests she has just discovered it and is showing how clever and unabashed she is as it's thrown around frequently. Does anyone know what “a rhombus of pain” is? I'm still puzzling over that one. But the following is probably one of the best. Tess is recalling the day she was in the clinic for the transfer of the embryos:
“....only patches of detail about the day of her transfer – the hair tassels frothing from the doctor's nostrils....”
That really did it for me. I limped on to page 72 knowing it wasn't going to get any better, so have now consigned this to my rubbish-never-to-be-picked-up-again pile, and wishing I had a log burner....
My thanks to Amazon for a complimentary copy