Ann, a financially challenged lady from Brooklyn with no children or home to her name, crosses paths with Justin, a wealthy man with ambiguous cultural leanings, who is engrossed in nebulous real estate dealings in the upstate. Their first meeting takes place in a pub, leading to instant chemistry, and before long, they are headed back to his mansion. The whole affair seems like it’s straight from a fairytale, too good to be true, and indeed, it isn’t. The plot takes a turn towards bizarre with a hint of soap opera-style melodrama and at times, the irrationality of a telenovela. Ann should’ve packed up and left upon realising the sea of red flags that Justin presented. It turns out, Justin is already married to Deborah, who is terminally ill with a brain tumour. Despite the circumstances, he’s open to new relationships and Ann finds herself accepting this unusual arrangement.
The fascinating aspect of this narrative is how the characters justify their questionable decisions, sparking much debate among readers about who’s in the right and who’s not. Things take a twist when Deborah miraculously recovers, after which Ann is already living in the house, acting as a surrogate mother to Deborah’s adored daughter. The leisurely-paced first half gives way to a faster, more intense second half as Edel Coffey throws in dramatic events that threaten to shatter Ann’s fantasy life just as it’s beginning to take shape. Like every other soap opera, a certain level of acceptance of implausible scenarios is needed. But Coffey’s lively writing style makes the journey into this increasingly complicated relationship enjoyable and entertaining.
Rather than focusing on which woman plays the role of the ‘other woman’ – Ann’s quiet anxiety or saintly Deborah with a sinister side – comparing the two misses Coffey’s most impressive characterisations. Pay attention instead to the men in the story and re-read the book, ‘In Her Place’, focusing on how they swing between debonair charm and the weak promise of eventually leaving their wives, hiding their manipulative tendencies.
The understated villainy here is all the more haunting because it’s so ordinary. Women like Ann and Deborah certainly deserve better, and this is never forgotten by Coffey.