The Woman in the Lobby lacks the satirical punch of Fabulous Nobodies (1989) and the blithe esprit of Wraith (1999) that has made Lee Tulloch such a diverting storyteller. This overlong novel, entertaining in places, engages in some of the lowest common denominators of popular fiction – fashion, drugs and lots of sex.
Dumped by her husband, Violet, a global aid worker, begins an affair with international tennis star Luka Uyanik. ‘Filthy with the scent of a stranger’, she travels to the Hotel Royal Park in Paris to be with him. On her arrival, however, she discovers that Luka has already checked out, leaving neither message nor forwarding address. Reluctant to go home – ‘she wants to sleep under lemur-skin tents in Madagascar, in hotels carved out of rock in Turkey’ – Violet meets Florin, a suave Romanian gigolo. In Violet he recognises a kindred spirit, and before you can say Louis Roederer (enough champagne is consumed in the first one hundred pages to induce cirrhosis) he has facilitated her first pick-up, one of dozens, marked by parodic dialogue and explicit sexual acts.
The Woman in the Lobby by Lee Tulloch
Viking, $32.95 pb, 441 pp
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