Moriarty has a very particular style – she writes interesting, wealthy women and families, and tells their tales leaving a key part until the very end of the book. I loved it in Big Little Lies and enjoyed it in Truly Madly Guilty, and while it’s been over a year since I read either of those, I found it a bit repetitive in this book. I wanted to care about Tess, who needs to get away from her husband in Melbourne for a while and takes her son to stay with her mother in Sydney. I wanted to care for Cecelia who discovers an unopened letter from her husband which she is instructed to only open after his death, but he is very much alive and the wondering about what is in the letter plays in her mind. But I really struggled. Part of it was that I really struggled with the fatphobia which is every present as Tess deals with her cousin, Felicity, who suddenly becomes thin and is thus a threat. I know this could be argued in many ways, however for the first third of the book, Tess’s attitude is so tied to weight and it’s shit, really. This is how society thinks – fat is bad, if you are fat you are a loser who can’t achieve anything unless you lose weight, if you lose weight you are then successful and a threat and you must be happier if you lose weight. Guess what? It’s not true. It’s this very attitude that is so destructive, and it’s everywhere. I’m so sick of it, and I know that society isn’t about to change. What really annoyed me about it is that, because I’m so aware of it, I wanted to see how important Felicity losing weight was to the plot. And it’s not. It’s all about Tess putting her fatphobia onto the situation, and it wasn’t needed. Sigh.