Another miracle

THE CARER by Deborah Moggach (Hachette, $45)

“The Moggach miracle continues,” proclaimed a cover comment from no less than The Times

on the back of Deborah Moggach’s The Carer.

To tag Moggach solely by the success of The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel — the film based on her book

These Foolish Things — is reductive because she’s written 18 books, including the historical novel Tulip Fever (also made into a film), which I enjoyed very much.

But for the first few pages of The Carer, I was wondering if the miracle might be that she has continued to do so well. The opening chapters felt overly simplistic and cliched. As the main characters were introduced and the scene set, it was matter-of-fact, a tad jolly — as jolly as the subject matter allows, at least — and just a bit lacking in punch.

I felt as though I was being ushered through a museum by a bossy tour guide who needed us to move on so the real action could start. So, we met James, a once-eminent professor, now in his 80s and unable to look after himself; and his adult children, Phoebe and Robert, who haven’t done as well as he did in life, as they hire a full-time carer to do the work they claim to not have time for.

Truth be told, it’s the inclination to do it that they lack; no one can really blame them for not wanting to clean up after a father they remember as distant and often absent. Into their lives comes Mandy, who wears bobble hats and stripy tights and doesn’t share the same left-wing political leanings they do. This is shocking enough for Phoebe and Robert but Mandy also views shopping at the mall — rather than supporting independent artisans and retailers — and watching TV soaps as a day well lived. Phoebe and Robert are horrified when dear old intellectual dad seems to find it all great fun, too.

Then Moggach slowly adds tension to the story and emotional depth to the characters. Mandy, it appears, has secrets and is lurking in rooms she shouldn’t be: “It still made him uncomfortable that under Mandy’s cheery interior, hostility might be lurking,” thinks Robert. Certainly, her pointed observations indicate she’s not quite as happy-go-lucky as we’ve been led to think.

To say more would be to spoil the “Moggach miracle”, which is to confound expectations and take an unexpected trip down memory lane while subtly questioning the way we view ageing, class and what constitutes a happy and successful life. She does it with warmth, affection and empathy for characters, which ultimately makes for a pleasant read.