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368 pages, Paperback
Published August 6, 2024
There’s a misattributed proverb floating around the internet that says once you save someone’s life you feel responsible for them forever afterwards. After rescuing Harriet Scott from a sinking ship in the freezing arctic in the very first lines of this story, Per Amundsen probably should have unsubscribed to that belief. Because Harriet Scott – famous from her ‘Wild Thornberries’ type eco-family legacy – already has PTSD from a tragic misadventure in her childhood. Understandably, being dunked into another new near-death Titanic-esque disaster does not help.
Adding insult to injury, Per seeks legal action to sue Harriet for throwing off his schedule - a lil’ petty my dude, but totally necessary logistically to ramp up the conflict and tension. As a result, Per gets invested in the whole tangled mess of Harriet: her remedial therapy, her progress, her work, and a common goal unites these two clashing personalities. The author’s background in law helps Harriet’s character ably resolve the underlying legalities, but myself personally was brick-shitting as soon as the word ‘lawyer’ joined the party. Once Per realises there’s more lurking under the surface of the ship-sinking fiasco, he essentially signs on to fix Harriet. That poor, poor man is so over his head.
The front cover – with its hand-written labels and suggestion of chick-lit comedy – had me expecting brash capers ala Janet Evanovich or a Bridget Jones’ Diary calamity, but that is not what “In at the Deep End” is. The comedy is a subtle, outsiders’ observational humour that comes from those almost-cringe moments of a beginning relationship where two people aren’t quite on the same page and you don’t know where you stand. (I’m pinkly tickled, for example, by the mental image of those two stomping down the windswept beach, hand-in-clenched-fist after the disastrous start to Harriet’s immersion therapy.) Such a refreshing anti-thesis to the insta-love trope. Despite Per’s heroic rescue in the first pages, Harriet doesn’t trust him. That’s where the tension and humour are so adeptly juggled.
Actually, through the story’s first act Per’s almost the bad-guy: a daily reminder of Harriet’s trauma and failures. The story did a great job of pushing my buttons on the first read-through and ngl, I got extra-defensive of Harriet: I thought Per was overbearing, unqualified, pushy and short with her. I felt almost personally attacked when Harriet was being manipulated by her work’s power dynamics and I felt suuuper over-protective of ma gal (*sobs* just leave Harry alone ok guys). But Harriet admits to herself she’s getting worse, not better on her own: she needs outside help. She has a goal in mind – a golden carrot of an overseas eco adventure – and uses Per as the stick. As the book’s written in first person from Harriet’s perspective, Per’s motivations remain ambiguous – which helps build his heroism and mysteriousness on first impression. Closer reading or re-reading between the lines does soften the harder edges of his nature and once I calmed my farm, I revised my opinion of him to a misunderstood Mr-Darcy equivalent.
That one of the things I love about this story: it doesn’t over-explain character dynamics. While it’s shown, there’s also room for the reader to bring their own interpretation. There’s no lazy writing such as excessive dialogue attribution or burning glances that convey simultaneous anger and yearning. With the characterisation, tension and plot being so well-paced, of course the actual romance scenes are crackling too. As an unexpected treat, we even get character development in the mix too. There’s also no cliché romance tropes of heaving biceps or maidenly swoons; this is a welcome grounded, realistic, chaotic bundle in the best way. But if you get second-hand embarrassment at mildly awkward encounters, be warned. Harriet doesn’t swoon prettily – she throws up. Frequently. And unglamourously. She’s not grateful of someone poking at her emotional wounds – at times she’s snappish, flaky, unhelpful or downright recalcitrant. And stoic Per also has his foibles: he’s not perennially gallant or unfailing polite in the face of Harriet’s setbacks – he gets exasperated, he clams up, he says the wrong thing.
Yeah, there is angst in Harriet’s flashbacks that might sit uncomfortably with some readers. But given her current extreme reactions, I think the initial accident needs to be a Big Deal or readers won’t sympathise with Harriet’s hair-trigger panic attacks and her long journey to recovery. What adds an extra layer of complexity for me is Harriet doesn’t just worry about herself: she worries about everyone – be it man, dog, or child – in or around the ocean. It makes the reader more sympathetic and patient with Harriet’s flaws, and stops her anxiety from becoming one-note. I think Harriet’s breakthrough moment was deftly handled and developed authentically.
In conclusion: a beautifully-paced plot with complex, stubborn leading characters, an enjoyable protagonist, and meaningful back-story: everything works! And the romance scenes are pure fire! If you dabbled in reading enemies-to-lovers or lite-hurt/comfort fanfic back in the day, I think this is your new ship. I’ve added this author to my must-buy list & my go-to recommendation whenever someone asks for a reading suggestion.