Book Title: Cover Story
Author: Mhairi McFarlane
Publisher: HarperCollins
Publication Date: May 2025
On the surface, the premise of Cover Story is biting but not unusual: a newsroom comedy of manners, threaded through with romance and professional rivalries. But the surprise of surprises lies in how many unexpected turns the novel takes, how deftly it amplifies the ordinary into something compulsively readable. The effect is the work of a writer in full command of her craft: McFarlane takes the seemingly linear and renders it twisty, quirky, and irresistibly engaging.
The Set-Up
The novel opens not in the metropolitan halls of a grand London paper, but in a small Manchester newsroom. Belle, newly appointed investigations editor, has arrived from her stint in podcasting with ambition in tow. At her side is Aaron Parry, another mainstay of the office, and soon they are joined by an intern rotation that introduces the unlikely figure of Connor: a man in his thirties, with a finance background, decidedly not the fresh-faced graduate one expects in such roles.
‘He’s about as much fun as food poisoning on a ferry, but fair play, he’s a hard worker. Every crap job I throw at him, he takes without arguing. Cicely woulda filed an harassment complaint if I’d asked her to go to Pret.’
Belle and Connor’s initial dynamic has the unmistakable flavour of a Pride and Prejudice standoff. Each makes assumptions about the other; each bristles with animosity. It is a classic enemies-to-friends-to-lovers trajectory, but handled with a seriousness and wit that makes it feel more homage than cliché.
‘Of course you think I look nice, I’m dressing completely differently to my own taste.’
‘You could find the coded insult in absolutely anything I say, couldn’t you?’
McFarlane leans into the Austenian template — mutual disdain, slow recognition, reluctant respect — and updates it with newsroom grit and contemporary verve.
Characters in Quirky Relief
If Belle and Connor carry the novel’s centre, they are surrounded by a vivid cast. Belle’s best friend Shilpa, a recent divorcee, strides through scenes with nonchalance and sharp-edged candour, the sort of character who speaks without a filter and remains all the more lovable for it. We’re given an insight into her personality:
‘Did I superstitiously curse it with that fake runaway bride stunt?’ she’d mused.
Before concluding: ‘No, it was the raging incompatibilities.’
Connor’s brother Shaun, by contrast, is observant and preternaturally wise, doling out advice that shapes both the narrative and its emotional undertones. Connor describes her brother to Bel, “Shaun’s unlike anyone you’ll ever meet. Astonishing forward momentum, Messianic levels of self-belief. Will analyse and summarise you to your face and, even worse, is usually accurate.”
Around them orbit others — Jen, Anthony, Aaron — each sketched with precision, contributing to the medley of voices that keeps the book lively. About Aaron, Bel observes, “He could not encounter an extended silence without throwing a leading non sequitur into it, it seemed.” There’s plenty of delicious descriptions of the journalistic process and newsroom politics, too.
To the untrained observer, Aaron’s attention might look like mockery. In the world of journalism and in the north of England, Bel sensed it was a compliment. He wasn’t putting her on the spot so much as putting her in a spotlight, because he thought she could tap dance.
This ensemble energy is key. McFarlane excels at creating quirky characters who hold their own. None feels like filler, and their interactions — clashes, confidences, collisions — generate a constant, amusing dynamic that prevents the central romance from collapsing inward.
The Plot Unfolds
The novel gains momentum when Belle receives a tip-off from a source, a story with uncanny resemblance to the #MeToo allegations that rocked public life in recent years. The target: a powerful mayor. Determined to pursue the truth, Belle goes undercover, assuming an alternate identity. It is in this capacity that she collides with Connor again — and circumstances conspire to push them into a fabricated relationship.
‘You know what? This is main character syndrome,’ Connor said. ‘
You have to invent this … grandiose antipathy on my part, because someone simply not caring either way about Bel Macauley is too much for you to process.’
From there, the charade only grows. They befriend Amber and Rick, potential conduits to crucial evidence. They maintain their couple performance while untangling corruption, danger, and their own misconceptions about one another. At every step, the novel manages to juggle personal stakes and professional intrigue without losing sight of humour. The undercover operation adds the shape of a thriller, but McFarlane resists formula, choosing instead to highlight the absurdities of performance — romantic, journalistic, and otherwise.
Style and Humour
McFarlane’s prose comes alive in descriptions of the journalistic process: sourcing, networking, piecing together half-truths. The background texture — of Manchester, of the press landscape, of predators shielded by power — is painted deftly, never heavy-handed.
The Shiver was the rare, delicious frisson that you might’ve stumbled on something large and meaningful. Often The Shiver didn’t pay off, but you needed to be alert to the possibility for the few times that it did. You maybe only got two or three genuinely bombshell leads in a career, if you were lucky. In fact, recognising The Shiver went deeper than bylines and exclusives.
What truly distinguishes Cover Story, however, is its humour. There are copious quantities of British wry humour here, working overtime — perhaps even over-performing — to keep the narrative buoyant. Readers will find themselves chuckling at quips, giggling at side observations, storing away lines for future use. The comedy doesn’t detract from the serious undertones; instead, it provides relief, creating a tonal balance that feels both authentic and deeply entertaining.
Sub-Themes and Depth
Beneath the humour and romance, McFarlane threads weightier concerns. Belle’s investigation into sexual misconduct and power imbalance resonates with the ongoing cultural reckoning of the #MeToo era. Belle herself is menaced by a stalker, introducing uncomfortable but necessary questions about boundaries, grey areas, and vulnerability.
Connor’s backstory, too, adds gravity: his departure from finance was precipitated by a workplace suicide, an event that shadows his present and gives dimension to his comic foil. Through him, the novel reflects on professional disillusionment, masculine silence, and the fragile ways people rebuild after trauma. Shaun talks about Connor:
But he picked the wrong career and the wrong woman and it broke his spirit. You’re meeting him in the plaster cast healing mode. Actually, that analogy works well. He’s currently got a hard shell round him while the bones mend. But it’s not part of him.’
The book also toys with class, privilege, and the generational divide: who gets to take risks, who can afford to pivot careers. These themes never swamp the narrative; instead, they surface organically, through character interactions and revelations.
If the novel falters, it is in its abundance. At times, dialogue runs long, descriptors repeat, and POV shifts feel overloaded with too many outlooks. The humour, delightful though it is, occasionally feels like it’s working overtime, gilding moments that might have thrived on subtlety. Yet even here, the excess contributes to the book’s exuberance. It may be “loaded” in places, but rarely clunky; the prose flows, and the characters’ awkward disclosures feel realistic rather than artificially smoothed.
Cover Story is not a thriller, but it keeps readers on their toes like one. It is not a straight romance, but it satisfies like the best of the genre. Above all, it is a testament to McFarlane’s ability to blend the quotidian with the extraordinary: newsroom gossip with undercover drama, enemies-to-lovers with political scandal, humour with trauma.
Readers will walk away with a collection of sharp quips to deploy among friends, morsels of wisdom to live by, and a wry, inside look at journalism’s mix of idealism and absurdity. McFarlane’s Cover Story is a book both biting and buoyant, timely and timeless, a reminder that even in the most serious of investigations, laughter — and love — can be part of the story.
Something can be not your finest hour without defining you.