HOW THE ONE-ARMED SISTER SWEEPS HER HOUSE

The only people enjoying themselves in Paradise are the tourists—at least the ones who haven't been murdered.

Barbadian author Jones' harrowing debut is set on a fictional strip of Caribbean shore called Baxter's Beach in the town of Paradise. It opens with a fable told by Wilma to her 13-year-old granddaughter, Lala, about the nasty fate of a girl who didn't listen. "Curiosity kill the cat, says Wilma, don't make yourself stupid like the one-arm sister." This gambit backfires—when we next see Lala, she's 18, very pregnant, in horrible pain, and bleeding "blurry poinsettia flowers everywhere" in a rickety beach shack. She stumbles to the nearest neighboring house, a fancy villa, presses the doorbell, and hears gunshots inside. She has interrupted her baby's father, Adan, midrobbery, and he's had to shoot his victim. It’s the man’s own fault, says Adan. And Lala’s fault what he does to her, what will happen to their baby, to their friend Tone—yet he's the one who has been torturing animals since he was a boy. In fact, Adan is one of the most repellent and unredeemed villains we have encountered in quite some time. Lala has pretty much figured it out—"Maybe it is time to accept that this man is not the laughing giant you meet riding a unicycle at a fair two summers ago"—but still cannot escape him. He won't let her work—she's a braider on the beach, a job she loves—and has stolen what little money she has. The novel moves among the perspectives of several characters, including Mira Whalen, the widow of the murdered man. Mira is a former prostitute whose tourist client left his wife for her; Adan's crime severs her from the amazing life she lucked into, with homes in England and here on the beach, with sweet stepchildren, friends, and travel, and the only conjugal love and happiness evoked in the entire novel.

A compelling and terribly sad story of lives defined by trauma generation after generation.