Book Summary:
(from the publisher)
Fredrik Backman meets The Cactus in THE SECRETS OF LOVE STORY BRIDGE (Park Row Books; April 28, 2020; $25.99 US/$32.50 CAN), in which a cynical single father has a surprise encounter on the famous love lock bridge, sparking a journey of self-discovery that may lead him to a second chance at love.
Single father Mitchell Fisher hates all things romance. He enjoys his job removing padlocks fastened to the famous "love lock" bridges of Upchester city. Only his young daughter, Poppy, knows that behind his disciplined veneer, Mitchell grieves the loss of her mother, Anita.
One fateful day, working on the bridge, Mitchell courageously rescues a woman who falls into the river. He’s surprised to feel a connection to her, but the woman disappears before he learns her name. To Mitchell’s shock, a video of the rescue goes viral, hailing him as "The Hero on the Bridge." He’s soon notified by the mysterious woman’s sister, Liza, that she has been missing for over a year. However, the only clue to where the woman could have gone is the engraved padlock she left on the bridge.
Mitchell finds himself swept up in Liza’s quest to find her lost sister. Along the way, with help from a sparkling cast of characters, Mitchell’s heart gradually unlocks, and he discovers new beginnings can be found in the unlikeliest places.
MY TWO CENTS:
Full disclosure, I am not one who usually goes for a romance book. I usually like thrillers, mystery, and drama. However, I was extremely happy to get a copy of this one. I won't bore you with another synopsis but suffice to say that I really enjoyed the story and the characters in this. They were written simply, but with depth, too. It's not every day I read a book where characters seem real to me, but these did.
I also thought that the premise was pretty original. The author wrote well and allowed me to imagine the scenery and the characters without too much description. I have never been overseas, but I have seen the padlocks fastened all along the Brooklyn Bridge when I have visited New York City. I like the idea, but I know the stress they put on a bridge. The author addresses this issue in the story. So, while in some cases, this may seem like a run of the mill romance at first glance, don't be fooled. There's romance, yes, but also a hint of mystery, and also how people come to terms with, loss, sadness and uncertainty in this life.
My thanks to the publisher. All opinions are my own and no review was required. Continue on for a free excerpt from the book!
The
Lilac Envelope
The
night before
As
he did often, over the past three years, Mitchell Fisher wrote a
letter he would never send. He sat up in bed at midnight and kicked off his sheets. Even though all the internal doors in his apartment were open, the sticky July heat still felt like a shroud clinging to his body. His nine-year-old daughter, Poppy, thrashed restlessly in her sleep, in the bedroom opposite.
Mitchell
turned on his bedside lamp, squinting against the yellow light, and
took out a pad of Basildon Bond notepaper from underneath his bed. He
always used a fountain pen to write—old-fashioned he supposed, but
he was a man who valued things that were well-constructed and
long-lasting.
Mitchell
tapped the pen against his bottom lip. He knew what he wanted to say,
but by the time his words of sorrow and regret travelled from his
brain to his fingertips, they were only fragments of what he longed
to express.
As
he started to write, the sound of the metal nib scratching against
paper helped him block out the city street noise that hummed below
his apartment.
Dearest
Anita,
Another
letter from me. Everything here is fine, ticking along. Poppy is
doing well. The school holidays start soon and I thought she’d be
more excited. It’s probably because you’re not here to enjoy them
with us.
I’ve
taken two weeks off work to spend with her, and have a full itinerary
planned for us—badminton, tennis, library visits, cooking, walking,
the park, swimming, museums, cooking, a tour of the city bridges, and
more. It will keep us busy. Keep our minds off you.
You’ll
be amazed how much she’s grown, must be almost your height by now.
I tell her how proud I am of her, but it always means more coming
from you.
Mitchell
paused, resting his hand against the pad of paper. He had
to tell her how he felt.
Every
time I look at our daughter, I think of you. I wish I could hold you
again, and tell you I’m truly sorry.
Yours,
always
Mitchell
x
He
read his words, always dissatisfied with them, never able to convey
the magnitude of grief and guilt he felt. After folding the piece of
paper once, he sealed it into a crisp, cream envelope, then squeezed
it into the almost-full drawer of his nightstand, amongst all the
other letters he’d written. His eyes fell upon the slim lilac
envelope he kept on top, the one addressed to him from Anita, that
he’d not yet been able to bring himself to open.
Taking
that envelope out, he held it under his nose and inhaled. There was
still a slight scent of her on the paper, he thought, of violet soap.
His finger followed the angle of the gummed flap and then stopped. He
closed his eyes and willed himself to open the letter, but his
fingernails dented crescents into the paper.
Once
more, he placed it back into his drawer.
Mitchell
lay down and hugged himself, imagining Anita’s arms were wrapped
around him. But, when he closed his eyes, the words from all the
letters weighed down upon him like a bulldozer. As he turned and
tried to sleep, he pulled the pillow over his head to force them
away.
-
A
Locked Heart
The
lovers who attached their padlocks to the bridges of Upchester might
see it as a fun or romantic gesture but, to Mitchell, it was an act
of vandalism.
It
was the hottest year on record in the city and the morning sun was
already beating down on the back of his neck. His biceps flexed as he
methodically opened and squeezed his bolt cutters shut, cutting the
padlocks off the cast-iron filigree panels of the old Victorian
bridge, one by one.
Since
local boyband Word Up filmed the video for their international smash
hit “Lock Me Up with Your Love” on this bridge, thousands of
people were flocking to the small city in the North West of England.
They brought and attached locks marked with initials, names,
messages, to demonstrate their love for the band and each other, on
the city’s five bridges.
Large
red and white signs that read no
padlocks
studded the pavement. But as far as Mitchell could see, the locks
still hung on the railings like bees swarming across frames of
honeycomb. The constant reminder of love surrounding him, other
people’s, made him feel like he was fighting for breath.
As
he cut off the locks, he wanted to yell, ‘Why can’t you just keep
your feelings to yourselves?’
After
several hours of hard work, Mitchell’s trail of broken locks
glinted on the pavement like a metal snake. He stopped for a moment
and narrowed his eyes as a young couple strolled toward him. The
woman glided in a white floaty dress and tan cowboy boots. The man
wore shorts and had the physique of an American football player. With
his experience of carrying out maintenance across the city’s public
areas, Mitchell instinctively knew they were up to something.
After
breaking away from his girlfriend, the man walked to the side of the
bridge while nonchalantly pulling out a large silver padlock from his
pocket.
Mitchell
tightened his grip on his cutters. He was once so easy and in love
with Anita, but rules were rules. ‘Excuse me,’ he called out.
‘You can’t hang that lock.’
The
man frowned and crossed his bulging arms. ‘Oh yeah? And who’s
going to stop me?’
Mitchell
had the sinewy physique of a sprinter. He was angular all over with
dark hair and eyes, and a handsome dorsal hump on his nose. ‘I am,’
he said and put his cutters down on the pavement. He held out his
hand for the lock. ‘It’s my job to clear the bridges. You could
get a fine.’
Anger
flashed across the blond man’s face and he batted Mitchell’s hand
away, swiping off his work glove. Mitchell watched as it tumbled down
into the river below. Sometimes the water flowed prettily, but today
it gushed and gurgled, a bruise-grey hue. A young man had drowned
here in a strong current last summer.
The
man’s girlfriend wrapped her arms around her boyfriend’s waist
and tugged him away. ‘Come on. Leave him alone.’ She cast
Mitchell an apologetic smile. ‘Sorry, but we’re so
in love. It took us two hours and three buses to get here. We’ll be
working miles away from each other soon. Please
let us do this.’
The
man looked into her eyes and softened. ‘Yeah, um, sorry, mate,’
he said sheepishly. ‘The heat got the better of me. All we want to
do is fasten our lock.’
Mitchell
gestured at the sign again. ‘Just think about what you’re doing,
guys,’ he said with a weary sigh. ‘Padlocks are just cheap chunks
of metal and they’re weighing down the bridges. Can’t you get a
nice ring or tattoo instead? Or write letters to each other? There
are better ways to say I lov– Well, you know. . .’
The
man and the woman shared an incredulous look.
‘Whatever,’
the man glowered, and he shoved his padlock back into the pocket of
his shorts. ‘We’ll go to another bridge instead.’
‘I
work on those too . . .’
The
couple laughed at him and sauntered away.
Mitchell
rubbed his nose. He knew his job wasn’t a glamorous one. It wasn’t
the one in architecture he’d studied hard and trained for. However,
it meant he could pay the rent on his apartment and buy Poppy hot
lunch at school each day. Whatever daily hassle he put up with, he
needed the work.
His
workmate Barry had watched the incident from the other side of the
road. Sweat circled under his arms and his forehead shone like a
mirror as he crossed over. ‘The padlocks keep multiplying,’ he
groaned.
‘We
need to keep on going.’
‘But
it’s too damn hot.’ Barry undid a button on his polo shirt,
showing off unruly chest curls that matched the ones on his head.
‘It’s a violation of our human rights, and no one can tell if we
cut off twenty or two hundred.’
Mitchell
held his hand up against the glare of the sun. ‘We can tell, and
Russ wants the bridges cleared in time for the city centenary
celebrations.’
Barry
rolled his eyes. ‘There’s only three weeks to go until then. Our
boss should come down here and get his hands dirty, too. At least
join me for a pint after work.’
Mitchell’s
mouth felt parched, and he suddenly longed for an ice-cold beer. A
vision of peeling off his polo-shirt and socks and relaxing in a beer
garden appeared like a dreamy mirage in his head.
However,
he had to pick Poppy up from the after-school club to take her for a
guitar lesson, an additional one to her music class in school. Her
headteacher, Miss Heathcliff, was a stickler for the school closing
promptly at 5.30pm, and it was a rush to get there on time. He
lowered his eyes and said, ‘I’d love to, but I have to dash.’
Then
he selected his next padlock to attack.
Excerpted
from The Secrets of Love Story Bridge by Phaedra Patrick, Copyright ©
2020 by Phaedra Patrick.
Published
by Park Row Books
THE SECRETS OF LOVE STORY BRIDGE
Author: Phaedra Patrick
ISBN: 9780778309789
Publication Date: April 28, 2020
Publisher: Park Row Books
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Author Bio:
Phaedra Patrick is the author of The Library of Lost and Found, Rise and Shine, Benedict Stone
and The Curious Charms of Arthur Pepper, which has been published in over twenty countries around
the world. She studied art and marketing, and has worked as a stained-glass artist, film festival
organizer and communications manager. An award-winning short story writer, she now
writes full-time. She lives in Saddleworth, UK, with her husband and son.
