For professional reasons, I’ve read a lot of self-published romance novels, but they’re not usually something I pick up for fun. Despite enjoying romantic comedies, I’ve just never particularly gravitated towards them. I took The Flatshare home from an office book sale because it had a unique premise in two characters who share space, but don’t actually know one another. I then didn’t get around to reading it for ages, because two book clubs makes it tricky to fit other new reads into my schedule. When a space opened up, The Flatshare got picked partly because I’d seen posters for the new Paramount adaptation, and partly because it’s one of the thickest books on my tottering vertical pile…
The Flatshare is very unlike those instalove romance novels where the characters are immediately and overwhelmingly attracted to one another and can’t stop thinking about getting intimate. Tiffy and Leon’s only understanding of the other’s appearance comes from Facebook photos, descriptions and context clues. Needless to say, their attraction builds slowly, and is based on personality rather than physical chemistry.
Who is Martin? A child? Does this rambly woman with Essex accent want to bring a child into my flat?
The Flathsare, Beth O’Leary
Voicemail continues: Sorry, that’s my colleague, he wants me to go on a cruise with a middle-aged lady to talk to pensioners about crochet.
Not the explanation I was expecting. Better, definitely, but begs many questions.
The epistolary elements came as a very pleasant surprise. While Tiffy and Leon’s notes aren’t as amusingly eccentric as Jaclyn Moriarty‘s use of post-it notes, they are full of character. Beth O’Leary distinguishes between her two characters’ voices excellently, though the switch between Tiffy’s effusiveness and Leon’s spare use of words can be a little jarring.
It’ll be that, won’t it? I’ve ignored someone’s book for so long that it’s actually gone to print without any words in it.
The Flatshare, Beth O’Leary
As is probably necessary in a story where the two leads can’t meet face-to-face, both Tiffy and Leon have a number of things going on in their lives outside their interest in one another. While Tiffy’s life as an assistant editor is rather more glamorous (and involves rather less actual work) than is realistic, Leon’s relationship with his brother is a foundational element of the novel. All the threads of plot and subplot are woven together expertly, with Tiffy having a place in Leon’s stories, as well as he in hers.
The climatic misunderstanding, necessary in all romance novels, involves a huge heaping of dramatic irony. It’s certainly tense enough to keep readers on the edge of their seat, though whether that’s pleasurable or painful might depend on individual tastes. The ending is predictable, of course, but effective and very sweet.
This was a fun change of pace for me, and I appreciated how easy to read it was at a time of year which can be pretty hectic.
Chalk Letters Books 