sandysbookaday posted: " EXCERPT: I prefer those times when I focus on her, watch her as she leaves the house, her slim figure in expensive jeans and pale jacket, blonde hair loose down her back, so straight compared to the girl's tight curls. On those days I follow them a f"
EXCERPT: I prefer those times when I focus on her, watch her as she leaves the house, her slim figure in expensive jeans and pale jacket, blonde hair loose down her back, so straight compared to the girl's tight curls. On those days I follow them a few paces back; she is so absorbed in the child that she doesn't notice anything that is going on around her. Dangerous, that is. It makes her vulnerable. Makes it easier for anyone wanting to take advantage of that vulnerability. Someone like me.
When she reaches the school, I slip into the cafe opposite and position myself in the window. I'm such a regular now that the owner has my coffee ready for me each morning. Flat white, one sugar. I sip it and watch her squeeze the child tight as if she doesn't want to let her go. She always waits until the girl has crossed the playground and is swallowed up by the building with all the other children, a mere dot against the sea of navy blue.
I can't always be there after school, when the mothers congregate on the pavement outside like a load of birds chirping and flapping their wings. She's always one of the first, her gaze trained on the exit even when she's twittering with the others, her little group of friends. If only they knew.
Her clique stands out from the other mothers, those who arrive last minute in their tracksuit bottoms, carpet slippers on occasion, these harried parents always in a hurry, unconcerned with how they look on the morning school run, just wanting to offload their kids for the day's reprieve. In contrast, her group doll themselves up to look smart, as if they are heading to the office afterwards. Some of them will go straight on to work, but she doesn't have to be anywhere to earn her keep. She'd tell you she runs her own business, but it's nothing more than a hobby as far as I can see. She's like a fifties housewife, flitting around the house all day with a feather duster, making everything gleam for her husband when he gets home.
He will be the first act; she will be the second. Before I move on to the main feature, he needs a little help to see his wife for what she really is. Once that is complete and he can gaze into the dark depths of her soul, I will hit them where it hurts. I've made my first move and I can't tell you how good it makes me feel to see them whirling out of control like spinning tops before crashing to the floor. They have no idea what is about to hit them. I'll split up the unit they think they've created, open the cracks, let them look inside and see that their whole life is built on an illusion, leaving them with nothing.
I'm enjoying working out who will be more devastated by this, him or her. I know who my money is on, but what about yours?
ABOUT 'EVERY LITTLE LIE': Lie #1 was to my new friends, about why I moved here. Lie #2 was to my husband, about who I was before I met him. Lie #3 was to myself, that I would get away with what I've done.
When I met Seb, it was like everything fell into place. My daughter Evie finally had a proper dad, and I had found the husband of my dreams – and what Seb didn't know about my past wouldn't hurt him.
But lately he's been acting strangely. He won't look me in the eye, he keeps coming home late and the other day at the school fair I saw him arguing with an unknown woman – the same woman I've seen hanging around outside our house.
And just as I start wondering whether I'm not the only one with a secret, Evie goes missing…
MY THOUGHTS: I didn't find this an edge-of-the-seat read, but I really loved the first half of Every Little Lie. There's a slight air of menace as we are aware that someone is watching Annie and Seb. There is a woman, hanging around outside the house and there are phone messages, sinister, threatening, that each thinks are meant for them, each having a secret to hide. And then there's Evie, four year old Evie who is strangely attracted to the 'watching woman'.
The story is told from multiple points of view - Annie, Seb, Josie, and Evie - which mostly worked well except there was a certain amount of repetition.
The big revelation, which I enjoyed, came about halfway through, and then the wheels more or less fell off the wagon. There is a huge piece of repetition of information. We learned about it in 'real time' as it happened in 2016. Then, when Annie is admitting to Seb what she has done in current time, we get it all again, blow by blow. Totally unnecessary.
And the ending? That was a miss for me - it just didn't ring true. I liked Annie's character, and Seb's. They were both basically good, honest people who loved Evie. Annie is overprotective but, in the circumstances, that is understandable. Annie and Seb love each other. They love Evie. So sorry, but why the stupid ending? I just don't understand . . .
Having loved Lesley Sanderson's previous books, I am left scratching my head over this.
THE AUTHOR: Lesley spends her days writing in coffee shops in Kings Cross where she lives and also works as a librarian in a multicultural school. She loves the atmosphere and eclectic mix of people in the area, and she loves languages.
She attended the Curtis Brown Creative novel writing course in 2015/6, and in 2017 was shortlisted for the Lucy Cavendish fiction prize.
Lesley discovered Patricia Highsmith as a teenager and has since been hooked on psychological thrillers. She is particularly interested in the psychology of female relationships.
DISCLOSURE: Thank you to Bookouture via Netgalley for providing a digital ARC of Every Little Lie by Lesley Sanderson. All opinions expressed in this review are entirely my own personal opinions.
For an explanation of my rating system please refer to my Goodreads.com profile page or the about page on sandysbookaday.wordpress.com
This review is also published on Twitter, Amazon, Instagram and Goodreads.com
WordPress.com
No comments:
Post a Comment