A novel of survival, revealing both the strength and vulnerability of a woman drawn into a sexually charged, highly volatile and self-destructive relationship with a sadistic ex-con. Written in short, sharp sentences with vivid descriptions, the prose is brutal and paradoxically comical, as Meg swings between distress and arousal. Whilst I was repelled by the uncomfortable imagery, I couldn’t help but feel pity for her unfortunate obsession.
I sat up and hiccupped. Why doesn’t he love me though? I asked her. Why? Why? It felt comforting to indulge in repetition. I sounded like someone in a play. Why? She shook her head slowly and shrugged, miming one of those haven’t-got-a-clue faces, which was surprisingly annoying. Perhaps he does, I suddenly thought. Perhaps he does, and he can’t show it. Perhaps he needs me to help him. She looked sceptical. And also maybe you should get lost? I said. Honestly, what do you know about anything? You miserable, insincere cow! In a flash it occurred to me. Maybe he’d been trying to tell me something. Perhaps he wanted us to move in together, something huge like that, and he found it difficult. That’s why he’d been a little touchy. It made sense. I reluctantly glanced in the mirror. My reflection had her hands over her ears and her mouth open.