If we judge a book by its cover (and we do, admit it), this one made me uncomfortable. Is it a photograph of childhood innocence, or something corrupt on the other side of the lens?
Bridget lives in Pt Heed, a fictional Kiwi town full of lovely people. There’s a
beach, cafes, good schools and Bridget and her husband Greg holiday with their good friends Lucy and Tristan, and Roz and Jono. Life is generally good, privileged even, but this novel is intent on rooting through the undergrowth of “ordinary” lives to find the rot within.
Bridget is attempting to grab five minutes peace while sort of supervising her children at an indoor trampoline place when she comes across a couple of lines in the newspaper. A father of two in her town has been convicted of possessing child pornography. It’s a small town and anxious Bridget’s thoughts spiral immediately; she probably knows him, her children have probably been within his orbit. Soon it’s all the school mums are talking about and suspicion is everywhere.
The novel alternates chapters between the present and nine months previously when the three couples and their numerous children were on holiday together. We know that something happened to cause a rift and that Bridget and Lucy haven’t spoken since. The tension in the melding of the two story arcs is fabulous; every character does something that could be innocent or dodgy depending on context and interpretation and they each have a back story of intertwined relationships and secrets.
The author is adept at presenting psychological portraits of her protagonist and those she observes. Bridget is not an entirely reliable narrator; her flaws and perceptions are explored throughout the narrative. One of Those Mothers is a real page-turner, pacy and uncomfortable as it holds a mirror up to our communities and the sometimes very fine line between what is okay and what is heinous. Highly absorbing.
