Samantha Smythe has to look after the children, run the house, cook dinner, clear up, be good to her husband, entertain friends, and still find the energy to perform her conjugal rights.She's beginning to feel invisible, undervalued and fed up. When the chance to stay in a gorgeous chocolate box of a holiday cottage beckons she grasps it with both hands and with a car packed full of luggage and fractious children she heads for the Devon coast. But with no Sky TV and swimming pool and intermittently soggy weather can the calm and happy holiday she's been hoping for be achieved? Samantha is sure that their lovely beach break is not supposed to be about sulks and rows and everyone wanting to do different things.Where are the cosy cream teas and the rockpooling?And why is her husband so keen to spend most of his holiday in London (where she secretly wants to be...)?Is it possible that he's finding his relaxation far closer to home?
The premise of the story was promising and I expected to read a warm story set in idyllic countryside. It even had a promising start but rapidly deteriorated after that. The author set up an interesting character in Noel and simply killed it with no real explanation. The story was just a meandering mess trying hard to tie every character together. Giving it a 2.5 for the potential it had.
In my last review I said the great thing about my book club (or one of the great things) was being introduced to books that I would never normally have picked up. The flip side is ending up reading crap like this that I should know by now is not going to be my cup of tea, but because I like to make up my own mind, and have this compulsion to read everything, eventually, and sometimes surprise myself, I read it anyway. It seems this is actually the third of a trilogy about Samantha Smythe, angsty Middle-class mother of 4, happily married to John, but resenting the amount of time he spends at work, while she stays at home living off the proceeds of a series of books about fridges. My literary pet hate is books about women who are living the happily ever after then do nothing but complain about how hard looking after children is - well then why did you have so many of them? So, worried that her 4 year old is turning into a cross-dressing psychopath since the arrival of Baby Sparkle - we reach page 138 before we discover that this is actually a nickname, but she is referred to as such throughout which did my head in a little - it's not cute it's nauseating - Samantha takes the family on holiday to Devon. She meets a variety of characters and because she's a martyr mummy, decides to get involved with village life and saving an old lady's stately home, so she can complain more about how much she has to do. Her eldest son meets a scottish goth who is clearly a bad influence but she does nothing to prevent this, wilfully ignoring the fact he's getting drunk on alcopops, staying out late and tagging - at 12. The next child has a binge eating disorder but again she avoids dealing with this, happily fobbing him off on his new friends mother, and she's happy to let an elderly man take her difficult pre-schooler, while knowing he drinks way too much, because yay at least the kid is wearing shorts again. She looks down on the yummy-mummies without realising that's exactly what she is, blames her husband for how her children are turning out when she's the one who has chosen their lifestyle, and patronises just about everybody. It does get a little dark for a couple of pages before the requisite happy ending where everything works out for everybody except the alcoholics. I guess is you have kids you might relate to this or find it amusing, but I really should learn to avoid this kind of dross.