Novels No. 44 (LL362)

 

Caro Carver. Bad Tourists. USA: Avid Reader Press/Simon & Schuster, 2024.

Carver's opening scene is a scary nightmare—perfect teaser for a thriller. One wonders, is this the product of someone's imagination rather than real? Then: We meet Darcy, stay-at-home mom and mother of three boys, who scored big in a divorce settlement, so what does she do? Treats two friends to an expensive holiday in the Maldive Islands. For her, it's R & R after an arduous child custody fight, and yes, also to celebrate her parting from high-tech businessman Jacob. Friend Camilla is thrice-divorced, the lively owner of a fitness empire; Kate is an introvert, single, a ghostwriter for minor celebrities, working on her own novel. And we learn that the three women bonded due to their association with that introductory scene of multiple murder. None of them had realized that the anniversary of the terrible event is coming up during their holiday week. They've all had therapy to process the trauma, to deal with loss.

Sapphire is an over-the-top posh resort on a small island—all the pampering they can imagine. In a heart-to-heart, the three friends agree with Camilla's insistence that they request re-opening the old murder case because of new evidence: Hugh Fraser, the killer who confessed and later died in prison, was not working alone, as the police concluded. Meanwhile, they befriend young Jade, honeymooning with Rob, but their experienced eyes see that he abuses her. Antoni is a Spanish guest, treating his nephew Salvador to a vacation as an eighteenth birthday gift. Undercurrents are spiralling to the surface: Rob insists he's met Darcy somewhere before, making her uncomfortable; Kate has a panic attack on receiving roses on the anniversary, sender unknown; and who is Adrian Clifton that Jacob is hounding them about?

The three-way friendship for the most part is touching and bantering, yet someone is hiding information. Unseen threats surround them, accidents waiting to happen, degenerating into ugly free-for-all violence. The climactic revelation comes with disappointing—to me—exposition; it doesn't make up for a lack of credible profile building during the story.

Darcy

▪ Darcy had said it was a good idea, that being together in a gorgeous place on the anniversary of the event that tied the three of them together would be healing. (81)

▪ Darcy was like her father, an open book, naturally inclined to share, talk things through. Volatile, too, until she learned to control it. (85)

▪ Who would think that the wholesome mum with the sensible haircut and the wet wipes in her handbag would be a vessel of violence beneath all that chair-of-the-PTA charm? (118)

▪ Why the living fuck would Kate be phoning this number? (167)

▪ "I'd like to know which of you told Jacob about Adrian," Darcy says after a moment. (211)

Camilla

▪ "I teach Pilates, and I emailed a few days ago to offer a free Pilates class to the guests. Do you think you can follow up on that?" (26)

▪ She is seized by blind panic, trying to work out Jacob's meaning, his strategy. (95)

▪ "Darcy tells us you used to be a detective sergeant with the Metropolitan Police?" (141)

▪ "The fucking anniversary! And now you tell us that we're really here to confront someone who may have killed my twin brother!" (185)

▪ She turns her eyes to two men standing at the edge of the causeway. "But they found the body, and one of them said his throat was cut." (228)

Kate

▪ In the back of the ambulance, she shook in giant, uncontrollable spasms as she watched body bag after body bag being carried down the steps of the guesthouse. (8)

▪ Rob stands out, certainly, with his swagger, his tattoos, eyes like knives. (98)

▪ "I'm so angry. I don't have privacy. What if they're here, on the island?" (155)

▪ "The letters spell Briony Conley. My real name." (163)

▪ Whoever sent those roses must think they can destroy her wherever she goes. (173)

▪ The email from Jacob sticks in her mind, the words a software issue. (195)

B.A. Paris. The Guest. USA: St. Martin's Press, 2024.

Still grabbing for fill-ins, thanks to TPL waiting lists. Against my better judgment I picked this up; the last time I read B.A. Paris I was not impressed (The Breakdown, LL232). When Gabriel and Iris Pelley return home from a weekend trip, they don't expect to find a guest installed. It's Laure, wife of Gabe's best friend Pierre; she fled to them for refuge on learning that Pierre had fathered a child some years ago thanks to a one-night stand (during his marriage). He told her he never knew, until he chanced upon the woman and her little daughter on the street. The Pelleys are stunned; Pierre is not responding to phone calls. Laure is devastated, burrowing right into her friends' everyday lives, futilely questioning Pierre's betrayal, thinking the woman could be their friend Claire. Laure's lamentations, and her visit, go on. And on. Pierre does not show up to meet Laure at their Paris apartment after inviting her.

Gabriel is more than half-disbelieving about the affair and the child, yet Laure says Pierre managed a DNA confirmation. Gabriel recently witnessed the accidental death of a young cyclist he knew, who whispered some bitter dying words to him. Now on burn-out leave from work, Gabriel is haunted by the words he can't tell anyone, let alone the boy's mother Maggie. Pierre's situation only adds to his torment. After returning unhappily from the no-show in Paris, Laure uncharacteristically seeks comfort from Joseph the landscaper. New neighbours Hugh and his pregnant wife Esme provide some social relief for the Pelleys... until Laure disappears. That's the crux, and unwanted police attention is about to further upset an already strained marriage.

Oddly, most of the "action" takes place in hindsight which gets a bit tiresome. From the third person perspective, all these people are continually agonizing, heavy with guilt, over their own betes noires and losing meaningful relationships with others. The grand reveal itself is related from retrospect, pages and pages of dispassionate exposition. What I said the first time around (little action, little dialogue, overabundance of repetitive agonizing) pretty much sums it up.

Laure

▪ "Hurt. Confused. He said he never wanted children." (23)

▪ She looked at him, her eyes wide. "It is all right, isn't it, me staying here a bit longer?" (77)

▪ "Are you saying that nobody has seen her since she went for her run—what, about six hours ago?" (164)

Gabriel

▪ "Are you suggesting that Claire wanted a child, so Pierre gave her one?" (32)

▪ "If all goes well, she might decide not to come back at all," Gabriel had said, and they'd both crossed their fingers jokingly. (95)

▪ "What if it isn't true? What if there isn't a daughter, what if Laure made it up to cover something else?" (130)

Iris

▪ The conversation was always about Pierre, and she was tired of hearing about Pierre. (56)

▪ "Have you decided yet about Maggie?" A closed look came over his face. "You can't refuse to see her, Gabriel." (119)

▪ "Funnily enough, I asked Laure if she wanted you to go to Claire's, to see if Pierre was there. But she said it would only make things worse." (131)

▪ She couldn't stop crying, and she needed to, because her tears only added to Gabriel's distress. (190)