I don’t always like stories with stations in. They so seldom seem anything like the real thing. When I read about a station I know well, I often think: this isn’t the Euston/Leicester Square/Barbican I know.
But Carole Matthews gets it right. Her Euston is my Euston. I didn’t know about the pub above the concourse, but it was right where she said it was when I actually looked up. The stations are wonderfully described. Euston, Watford Junction, Leighton Buzzard… I’ve been to those places. It’s so nice to read a book and recognise the stations I know and love and even talk to sometimes... (although maybe I shouldn’t admit to that part).
However, I was a bit surprised to hear that Jamie takes the Northern Line from Euston to Leicester Square, then changes onto the Piccadilly Line to Covent Garden. Doesn’t he know they are ‘officially’ the two closest stations on the Underground network (although Charing Cross and Embankment on the Northern Line are the closest really)? Unless there’s a train actually sitting in the Piccadilly Line platform at Leicester Square when you get there, it’s quicker to walk. And if he does walk, he might be able to avoid the Covent Garden crowds he was moaning about.
But Jamie is a bit of an idiot. If he wasn’t, there wouldn’t be a story at all.
It’s a shame about the characters, really. It starts wonderfully, with Jamie running into Teri (literally) and knocking her over. He looks after her, and they end up chatting, and they really seem to get on well. But then, in a twist of Fate that never happens in Mills and Boon, it turns out Jamie is married. Well, he would be, wouldn’t he? Jamie is short for James! We know what they’re like. In fiction, anyway. See Lucy in the Sky, Holly’s Inbox, Watermelon and Got You Back if you don’t believe me. They’re worse than Matthews (characters called Matthew I mean, not the author of this book). Matthews might be okay if they weren’t so immature. Jamie is one of the nicest Jameses I’ve ever read about, but that doesn’t change the fact they can’t stay faithful to save their lives. (The fact that I’m not very good at being faithful either is irrelevant.)
Teri is nice to start off with, but then she gets a bit caught up in the affair, and she becomes a bit possessive. And seriously, I have no respect for anyone who answers the phone when they’re about to be sick. Obviously, I can see why speaking on the phone is infinitely more attractive as an option, but as far as I can see it, it’s not an option. Just go to the toilet, do what you have to do, then dial 1471 and call the person back. And don’t go into details of why you couldn’t answer the phone 5 minutes ago. Even a non-emetophobe probably won’t enjoy that sort of detail.
Okay? Now onto more pleasant subjects. Like adultery.
Let’s Meet on Platform 8 is a very brave story. There is a lot of adultery in fiction, but there are few novels where everyone involved – the adulterer, the spouse and the bit on the side – are all basically nice people. Usually, at least one of them is a clearly defined villain, and they are horrible in all sorts of other ways too (see A Crowded Marriage, Watermelon etc). So the adultery is a positive thing in that it frees up the heroine to find someone nice instead. Or in something like Getting Rid of Matthew, the guy might not strictly be a villain, but you don’t really want him to end up with either of his women because they both deserve better.
There’s no villain here. Jamie is probably correct when he tells Teri that his wife Pamela doesn’t understand him, but Pamela is still a nice and generally very understanding person – it just so happens her marriage needs a bit of work. Teri and Jamie are also lovely until they make the decision to turn friendly cups of coffee into a shagathon. There’s nothing wrong with a bit of flirtation: in this case, it’s very sweet. But there’s no need to bonk everyone you fancy. If I did that, I’d have no time to write book reviews and I’d probably be dead by now.
It’s easier to stay sympathetic to all parties here than in most books, but the book is still not completely successful. You really want to be torn between what Pamela wants; what Jamie wants; what Teri wants. Supporting one person one minute, then changing your mind; hoping it can somehow work out for everyone in a realistic and non-contrived sort of way. But it’s probably really difficult to write a book like this: Matthews does come pretty close. But if you want to read a Matthews book, read the Chocolate Lovers series. It’s not always realistic but it is nearly always funny.
Sunday, 11 January 2009
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