How Hard Can It Be?
Kate Reddy is counting down the days until she is fifty, but not in a good way.Fifty, in Kate’s mind, equals invisibility, and she’s caught between her traitorous hormones, unknowable teenage children and ailing parents.She’s back at work after a break, now that her husband Rich has dropped out of the rat race to master the art of mindfulness. But just as Kate is finding a few tricks to get by, her old client and flame Jack reappears – complicated doesn’t even begin to cover it…
Читать How Hard Can It Be? онлайн беплатно
The Borough Press
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
Published by HarperCollinsPublishers 2018
First published by HarperCollinsPublishers 2017
Copyright © Allison Pearson 2017
Cover design by Claire Ward © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2018
Hand lettering by Ruth Rowland. Cover illustration by Henn Kim
Allison Pearson asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books
Source ISBN: 9780008150556
Ebook Edition © May 2018 ISBN: 9780008150549
Version: 2018-03-22
‘Revolutionary … Both funny and unflinching’
ELIZABETH DAY, Daily Telegraph
‘Once again, countless women will recognise themselves … Pearson has a gift’
The Times
‘Zesty, razor-sharp and hilarious … Get ready for Kate!’
TINA BROWN, magazine editor and bestselling author
‘Sharply observed and very funny’
Woman & Home
‘Made me laugh, wince, shudder and shed a tear!’
SOPHIE KINSELLA
‘As sharp and witty as ever … hugely enjoyable’
Daily Mail
‘Funny, heart-breaking, wise and delightful’
SOPHIE HANNAH
‘How Hard Can It Be? is that rare thing: a sequel that matches and even surpasses the original’
Daily Telegraph
‘Brilliantly well observed’
INDIA KNIGHT
‘Pearson deftly balances despair-inducing observations with escapist pizzazz’
Mail on Sunday
‘Pearson makes a sharp point about the lack of value and status that society places on the onerous job of a stay at home mother … in these pages, there is a raw honesty’
Financial Times
‘Sparkling, funny and poignant, this is a triumphant return for Pearson and hopefully not the last we will hear of Kate’
Daily Express
‘A cutting edge of its own’
Metro
‘Wildly entertaining’
Reader’s Digest
‘[Pearson] nails the comedy and the pathos of daily domestic life like no one else’
Country Life
‘Poignant and smart takes on the pressures affecting working mothers … laugh out loud funny’
Women’s Agenda
‘[Peason writes] with acid and a daunting determination to tell it like it is’
New Zealand Herald
Conceal me what I am, and by my aid
For such disguise as haply shall become
The form of my intent.
William Shakespeare, Twelfth Night
Nobody tells you about the balding pudenda.
Whoopi Goldberg
Contents
Prologue: Countdown to Invisibility: T minus six months and two days
Funny thing is I never worried about getting older. Youth had not been so kind to me that I minded the loss of it. I thought women who lied about their age were shallow and deluded, but I was not without vanity. I could see the dermatologists were right when they said that a cheap aqueous cream was just as good as those youth elixirs in their fancy packaging, but I bought the expensive moisturiser anyway. Call it insurance. I was a competent woman of substance and I simply wanted to look good for my age, that’s all – what that age was didn’t really matter. At least that’s what I told myself. And then I got older.
Look, I’ve studied the financial markets half my life. That’s my job. I know the deal: my sexual currency was going down and facing total collapse unless I did something to shore it up. The once-proud and not unattractive Kate Reddy Inc was fighting a hostile takeover of her mojo. To make matters worse, this fact was rubbed in my face every day by the emerging market in the messiest room in the house. My teenage daughter’s womanly stock was rising while mine was declining. This was exactly as Mother Nature intended, and I took pride in my gorgeous girl, I really did. But sometimes that loss could be painful – excruciatingly so. Like the morning I locked eyes on the Circle Line with some guy with luxuriant, tousled Roger Federer hair (is there any better kind?) and I swear there was a flicker of something between us, a sizzle of static, a frisson of flirtation right before he offered me his seat. Not his number, his
