A couple of regrets
Anight seeing theatre in Brighton would be a source of regret for many people, but for Al, Mike, Sally and Faye it's particularly woeful. For one awkward, titillating night the two couples switch partners.
Even before the hangovers clear it's apparent that this wasn't the kind of drama anyone was looking for.
Jones is an adroit writer with a keen eye for small details. On the first page, a champagne flute halffilled with bubbles judders across a train tabletop, a little morsel of frivolity and joy rattling toward disaster. It's saved by Sally, who, reluctant to be a spoilsport for her husband Al and old friend Mike, okays a second bottle. The road to disaster is paved with second bottles.
Four will hit many readers where it hurts, with themes of infidelity, fertility, lost chances, wrong choices and regret.
It deliberately aims to find and probe old wounds in the reader, the kind of painful but non-fatal injuries many live with: Mike's heartbreak as he Skypes his young daughter from a failed relationship; Sally's struggle to tolerate her husband even as they work with a counsellor to save the marriage. Jones skewers the minor irritations forgiven when love is present and unbearable when it's gone — you can feel Sally's skin crawl as Al smothers a belch.
Less captivating are the prevarications that provide much of the narrative tension. Sally's changes of mind are endless and as everything relies on her decisions she holds the novel hostage.
Bright young Faye is in trouble, a sparkling glass of champagne about to smash, but the drama surrounding her begins to verge almost on teenage angst. She's both victim and deus ex machina, a cudgel to pummel Sue, Al and Mike into revealing their true selves.
Faye claims you only regret the things you don't do; it's a sentiment that becomes the motto of the book, proven both true and false.
Four is filled with longing, remorse and redemption; it will have the reader reviewing their own regretted choices and raising a grateful glass to mistakes that went unmade.