The godmother

Carrie Adams

Book - 2007

Saved in:
Subjects
Published
New York : Harper 2007.
Language
English
Main Author
Carrie Adams (-)
Edition
1st ed
Item Description
"First published in Great Britain in 2006 by Headline Review ..." -- T.p. verso.
Physical Description
388 p. ; 24 cm
ISBN
9780061232602
Contents unavailable.
Review by Booklist Review

Book groups and Anglophiles, take note: Adams has written a fast-paced, witty, and charming novel that will surprise readers with its depth and honesty. Tessa zany, curly-haired, yoga-fit is a highly successful attorney who has been forced by unfair circumstances to leave work. Unburdened for the first time in 20 years, she takes on a busy social schedule, complete with a racy sex life (descriptions are steamy). But what she excels at are her absorbing dedication to friends and her role as godmother to Caspar, a brooding, smoking teen; Cora, a single friend's (often-sick) daughter; and recent additions, twins Bobby and Tommy. She is ready to help at each summon, but the more she gets caught up in the lives of others, the more she realizes that something is missing in her own life. Just when she feels out of sorts, her friends all hit crisis mode, and what starts as a light, relatively chipper read takes a turn to the bitingly realistic. Topped off with a made-for-movie ending, The Godmother is unpredictable and absorbing.--Cook, Emily Copyright 2007 Booklist

From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review

While 30-something Londoner Tessa King questions her no-strings-attached lifestyle, she also witnesses her friends' difficulties in marriage and parenthood while playing godmother to their broods. Nick and Francesca battle to keep their sullen teenager out of serious trouble; Billy, a single mom, can't break ties to her now remarried ex-; Helen and Neil, fairy tale parents to twin boys, are hiding something; successful Claudia and Al struggle to conceive; and Ben and Sasha have no plans to have children. But Ben also happens to be Tessa's best friend, and perhaps the love of her life. When tragedy eventually strikes the group, bonds are tested, and Tessa is forced to re-examine what she thinks will really make her happy. A painful look into the fears, doubts and desires that make and break marriages, this debut novel from Londoner Adams is notches up from the usual chick and mom lit fare. (Sept.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved

(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Review by Library Journal Review

Tessa King is godmother to four children but desperately wants to be married and have her own family. At least she thinks she does. She's really not sure whether she's ready to give up a swinging London social life full of one-night stands, and, anyway, the man she's been in love with since they were teens is already married. And when she takes a careful look around at her married friends, Tessa begins to see that they aren't living such perfect lives: Neil cheats on Helen, who is exhausted from having twins; Fran and Nick's teenage son is doing drugs; Claudia and Al have lost another pregnancy; and single mom Billy struggles desperately to make ends meet. But when tragedy strikes the group of friends, Tessa gets the chance at what she might want most. This heavy-handed British soap opera is overstuffed with too many characters and overdramatic subplots yet remains unsatisfying. For larger public libraries where British women's fiction is popular.-Rebecca Vnuk, Glen Ellyn P.L., IL (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

(c) Copyright Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Review by Kirkus Book Review

A perky debut considers whether a Londoner's life of drinking, clubbing and one-night stands is more enviable than her friends' bumpy marriages and parenting woes. Tessa King is single, blonde, gorgeous and popular, although finding dates is getting harder as she doesn't "do married men." Her group of friends is important to her, and she is godmother to most of their children, including Francesca's 16-year-old son Caspar, whom she tries to discourage from his flirtation with drugs. Then there's privileged Helen, who still needs propping up in her struggles with her new-born twins, post-natal depression and a jerk of a husband; and Billy, whose ex-partner is being dishonest about child support. One of Tessa's oldest friends is Ben (now married to Sasha), whom she's known since they were teenagers. Ben doesn't have children but Tessa wishes he did, and with her, except that she is fond of Sasha too and has no wish to break up their happy marriage. Instead, Tessa turns to a new admirer, James King, until she learns he has a wife and two children. When Helen and her husband are killed in a car accident, Tessa has to fight Helen's unpleasant mother over custody of the twins and is forced to confront her own role in her friends' lives. She confesses her feelings to Ben and he declares his love for her too, but eventually Tessa does the right thing and turns him down. Having found a good home for the twins, she resumes her life of work and godmothering--and maybe getting back together with James, who turns out to be separated after all. Unusually child-centered for chick-lit--and considerably too long--but engaging enough. Copyright ©Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

The Godmother Chapter One A sinking feeling I knew my luck had changed when I was upgraded to business class on my return journey. My curious gold-encrusted traveling companion made the long flight pass too quickly. He turned towards the transit lounge with the unforgettable words, "If you're ever passing through Vladivostok . . ." I waved him off, set my wheelie bag on the ground and, after five wound-licking, soul-searching weeks away, headed for home. This was it. My moment to start again. I had dealt with what had been a hideous year and I'd put it behind me. OK, it was only September, but I had decided to return to the academic timetable. Anything to be able to punctuate what had been and now. New year. New start. New me. Tessa King was back. I smiled at everyone. Sharing the love and our good fortune at being alive. The Customs official eyed me warily and promptly took my bag apart. I didn't mind. Nothing was going to ruin my return. Having found nothing but festering clothes and gifts for my godchildren, he let me go. I was almost jogging by the time I reached the sliding glass doors. An expectant smile quivered at the side of my mouth, ready to burst forth the moment I saw my welcome-home party. The doors opened. I stepped through and yelled "Hi" at a woman I'd never met before. "Sorry," I said. "You look just like my friend." Francesca would have been mortally offended. The woman was older, shorter and wearing velour. I looked around me to check I was where I thought I was. I was. But she wasn't. I must be mistaken. Francesca and I had made this plan on the day of my tearful departure. My greatest friend from university had promised to escape the clutches of domesticity to spend a lost afternoon drinking wine and catching up. It was only imagining this moment that had got me through the previous five weeks. I looked around again. Double-checking the faces of -people who averted their eyes, and the placard-holding drivers who didn't. My smile wouldn't accept there was no friendly face waiting for me and kept grinning at -people who didn't want to be grinned at. Maybe I was early? I checked my watch, knowing full well I wasn't. Eventually my smile accepted its fate and retracted. I sat down on my suitcase while all around me travelers ran into the open arms of their loved ones. I chose not to notice the many others who hurried on alone to the trains and buses. I only saw what I feared. I had gone to India hoping I could downward dog my way out of trouble and I was sure I had succeeded. A peppery heat prickled my eyes. Damn it, how many uddiyana bandhas would it take? "Tessa, over here. Tessa!" I stared at my phone, wondering whether I could be bothered to go through a month's worth of messages to get to the one Francesca may have left if she hadn't forgotten completely. "Tessa!" It was my name, but a man's voice, so I didn't register it. "Tessa, you deaf old cow, it's Nick!" I looked up. Francesca's husband, red-faced, was waving frantically at me. Nick and Francesca had been together since our first year at university. A staggering eighteen years. I knew him as well as I knew Fran and immediately my spirits rose. "Welcome home. So sorry we're late, traffic. Anyway, you don't want to know about that. How are you? You look terrific." We? Was Francesca here? Who was with the kids? And then I saw Caspar, my fifteen-year-old godson. The fact that I had a godson who was beginning to resemble a man was alarming, but he had arrived early to our party and I still marvel at Nick and Francesca's brave decision to keep the baby and make a go of it. These days Caspar reminds me of how far I have failed to come. He sloped towards me. We are very close, my godson and I. Throwing down my bag, I opened my arms wide. Not so long ago he would have run the length of the airport and buried himself under my neck. But he was about to turn sixteen; times were changing. I didn't realize then, how much. "Hey, handsome, you are getting so big . . ." I saw the smile in his eyes, but nothing else in his body language changed. He was bristling with awareness. I know a defensive position when I see it. I'd been carrying myself around like that for months. I lowered my arms. "You might like to know that my plane had a four-hour stopover in Dubai." "Huh?" "United Arab Emirates." There was no register on Caspar's face. "The Middle East? Ever heard of it?" "Yeah," mumbled Caspar. "Caspar, don't mumble," said Nick. "Well," I interrupted, not wanting there to be a teenage scene, "it's the shopping capital of the world. Tax-free. Very iPod friendly." That got his attention. Caspar has wanted an iPod Nano since they came out. But Nick doesn't earn that sort of money and Francesca doesn't work. Which is where I, the fairy godmother, often come in. No wonder he loves me . . . I'd love me. "Isn't it your birthday next weekend?" "Yeah." "Well, let's just say I got so friendly with the sales assistant he gave me a photo of his kids. Who, by the way, live in a different country and only get to see their father every two years--just in case you were feeling a little hard done by today." "I get enough of the Third World shit at home, thanks." Caspar sloped away. I turned to Nick with an open mouth. Sloping? Backchat? This wasn't my godson. Nick shook his head, exhaled long and hard, then lowered his voice. "He's being a nightmare, I'm so sorry. Fran was desperate to come today, I mean desperate, but someone at school has swapped birthdays around, and she's got to bring Katie's party forward three weeks to tomorrow." The Godmother . Copyright © by Carrie Adams. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold. Excerpted from The Godmother by Carrie Adams All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.