by Paula Hawkins
If I had a dime for every time someone in this book made a bad decision. “It doesn’t feel right to say these words out loud” but of course she does. “I’m ready to hang up the phone, but” of course she doesn’t. I shouldn’t go buy a drink, but I do, I shouldn’t trespass and spy and lurk, but I do.
There are three women in this story and two men. The men are both awful. The women are all awful decision makers. Actually there are four women, if you count the bit part of Rachel’s flatmate Cathy, who probably makes the worst decisions of them all, since she tolerates the awful Rachel who pukes on her carpet. And there are three men, if you count the bit part of the red-headed man Rachel can’t recall how she knows from her drunken stupors. That guy is the only decent specimen of the male sex.
Oh well. It was supposed to be a mystery/thriller, not a character study. It was fairly exciting. Just, of course, not my kind of book. Obviously another book club pick.