Clarry Pennhaligan, my twenty-six-year-old heroine in The Love Detective, has a definite romantic streak. She enjoys men and everything they have to offer. She has an innate trust that The One will turn up someday or other but meantime she’s in no hurry and is happy trying a few on for size. But, the refreshing thing about Clarry is that she’s also just a little cynical. Or… depending on your point of view… realistic.
Exhibit A: “A man who’s interested in your life and not just his own, that’s rare in my experience.”
Exhibit B: “Why confidence in men so often displays itself with a sexual edge, I don’t know. Women instinctively recognise it and the suggestion of threat that can lie beneath its surface”
Exhibit C: “But as before, I had misjudged the male capacity for a flagrant display of ego. Chris seemed to find nothing suspect in my breathy admiration. That he should be praised and flattered was something he appeared to take as his due”.
As Clarry shakily embarks upon the path towards becoming a private detective she, perhaps naively, thinks she knows a bit about the world, that she knows a bit about life and about men. But as her investigations proceed what she discovers truly shocks her.
Although The Love Detective falls in to the chick-lit genre it is also a thriller and so there are dark aspects to the novel. Clarry wasn’t prepared for what she found, and she is affected by it. But essentially, she’s a girl who chooses to walk on the breezy sun-dappled side of the street.
“Whilst I wasn’t going to minimise the fear I’d experienced… I was alright and still the girl I’d been yesterday. There would be no need to send flowers”
Personally, I consider Clarry’s decision a wise one. I wonder what you will think?
THE DEFENCE RESTS.