A real rich romance
An adventure to Cape Town reveals a family betrayal in a tale told with authenticity, wit and charm.
Catherine Bennetto’s second novel is a wry, no-frills love story. It’s fantastic. At about the point the heroine, Jess, was knocking back beers in the sun while floating in a rubber dinghy on a river, I started to think, “Hmm, there’s something very Kiwi about this.” And whaddayaknow. Turns out Bennetto’s from Godzone.
But Make or Break is set far from here. We meet Jess stuck in a typically miserable workaday London. She’s living with her boyfriend, but pops over after work each day to help her sister, a solo mother, with the kids. She’s nice, Jess. Verbose and
funny. Kind.
Boyfriend whisks her to Cape Town for her best friend’s wedding. (The friend is lesbian, Jess’ niece has Down syndrome, another gay couple features prominently: this is good).
Disconcertingly for Jess, on arrival her boyfriend quickly becomes obsessed with climbing mountains and diving with great whites. Jess, rightly, baulks. So boyfriend
It’s not just the guy she falls for, it’s his people, his foundation. This is important stuff that’s often lost in romance novels.
bails on her and takes off with a new, more adventurous buddy.
That leaves Jess all alone in Cape Town. And what a place to be stuck! Bennetto paints a picture of beaches, street food, parties and wineries and great coffee; of art and music and people who know how to relax. She also gives Jess an adventurous buddy of her own: Jimmy, a barman who wants to be a scriptwriter.
They’re platonic for a good stretch, in a matey, piss-taking, genuinely caring way that made me think of New Girl. They’re hilarious together, and their relationship rings rich and real; I think this is because Bennetto has a rare, natural way with dialogue – and because for good chunks of their time together, Jess and Jimmy are hanging out at his place, with his family.
So, as in real life, it’s not just the guy she falls for, it’s his home and his people, his foundation. This is important stuff that’s often lost in romance novels. Bennetto, like Marian Keyes, clearly knows it matters – and like Keyes, she writes peripheral characters and family dynamics with depth and detail. She consistently nails this whether what’s at stake is profound – Jess’ discovery of an elaborate betrayal – or painfully mundane. Life with young kids is particularly well drawn: Moana cutlery, the endless chatter, the stash of confiscated toys on top of the fridge. At one point, Jess is trying to have an emotional phone conversation with her sister, and her nephew bellows down the line: “CAN YOU ASK FOR THE PEAS TO BE ON THE SIDE OF THE PIE NEXT TIME?!”
When writers go all-in like this, so do readers.