(Caution – spoilers in here!) After the most horrific day at work imaginable, there’s only one way to unwind and that’s with a bottle of Prosecco and a Penny Jordan romance – and this is Jordan at her very, very best.
In this one, 35 year old Harriet, who has spent her entire life pandering to the whims of her feckless sister, and looking after said feckless sister’s twins, suddenly finds herself free to pursue her own life when the sister ups sticks with the twins and decamps to America. Harriet, revelling in her new freedom, purchases a house in the Scottish borders and sets about living her new life as a children’s novelist. However, this is a Mills and Boon, so poor old Harriet is not destined to enjoy her new life for long. There is a wonderful passage in the book when Harriet is driving to her new abode and considering the brightness of her future before her:
“Yes, she was free for the first time since her parents’ death. Free to write... to daydream... to enjoy the countryside... to do all those things she had wanted to do for so long... to...
Her thoughts sheered off abruptly, and she braked instinctively, feeling her small VW protest as it squealed to a halt, only just missing the man who had so unexpectedly emerged from the trees shadowing the road and who was even now bearing down on her.” (p. 15)
This is the point of the protagonists’ first meeting and it’s an unusual one as “Rigg” (the hero) emerges out of the darkness wearing only his pants. It’s a fabulous scene but what really makes it interesting is the way that Jordan phrases it above – whilst contemplating all the things she is going to do with her newfound freedom, Harriet finds that what she is “missing” in her life, is “the man”. Obviously, this is not a feminist text; and yet, strangely this novel is all about women’s choices. Rigg, we find, is as romantically inclined as Harriet. After being disappointed in love himself, he wakes up one day to find himself “nearly forty” and unmarried. Unusually for a Mills and Boon, we get to see his thoughts for a small space, as he daydreams about Harriet, applauding her choices and way of life.
The front cover of the original 1990 edition of this text does nothing for the novel – Harriet (who bears an uncanny resemblance to a horse) appears to be fighting off a smugly grinning Rigg. I can only think that the cover illustrator read the back (which makes reference to Harriet’s initial fears that Rigg is a rapist – a perfectly natural conclusion being as he emerges from the darkness in only his undercrackers) and the section at the very beginning of the book (where Harriet acknowledges that she is not a traditionally attractive woman) and used that as a basis for his picture.
The love scenes are not too detailed (it’s a better book for it) and how they arise is worthy of note – after a dinner dance, Rigg tells Harriet that “they need to talk”, and asks if he can call around after he has dropped his niece home (“only to talk”). Well, when Rigg eventually polls up (at three in the morning!) Harriet is already in her dressing gown and talking is the last thing on Rigg’s mind. Harriet, who has never experienced love before, is then flung into anxiety and doubt about what has happened between them and whether Rigg will telephone her like he has promised. When he fails to do this, Harriet experiences a very teenage angsty episode (we’ve all done it) when she wonders why he hasn’t rung her and comes to the conclusion that he is no longer interested now he’s had what he wants from her. (Something very similar happened to me once with a dentist from Manchester. I reached the same conclusion as Harriet.) However, it transpires that Rigg couldn’t ring her because he’d had a blow to the head and been in hospital. Poor old romantic Rigg wakes up believing that Harriet will be waiting anxiously by his bedside. Meanwhile, poor old anxious Harriet believes that Rigg has done the dirty on her, seducing her and leaving her flat afterwards. Thank goodness for Rigg’s niece clearing up the misunderstanding by page 183. (For all I know, a similar thing could have happened to the dentist, but I just didn’t have an obliging extraneous character to help me out there. Without that external assistance, I guess, I’ll never know).
There’s a lot going on in this one – the more mature protagonists definitely add another facet to the story. The fact that Harriet is a writer and focuses upon the creative process as a writer (revealing a little about Jordan’s own creative process simultaneously)
is another point of interest. Also, the intended audience of this book seems quite clear in this one – not just through the advertising in the text (I was using the original 1990 version) but also in the escapism that is being offered here for all those women readers who, like Harriet, never have the time or freedom to have the luxury of just pleasing themselves. Definitely recommend this text as one of Jordan’s best.