It is a specific kind of dread. You know the one—the feeling that someone is watching you, not with kindness, but with a clipboard and a very sharp pencil. That is the essence of reading Zoe Heller. If you picked up a copy of Notes on a Scandal in a bookstore in London, or perhaps found the American edition titled Zoe Heller What Was She Thinking, you already know that this isn't just a story about a teacher having an affair with a student. It’s actually much darker than that.
The book is a masterclass in the "unreliable narrator." Honestly, if you trust Barbara Covett for more than five pages, you’re probably a bit too nice for your own good.
The Dual Identity of a Modern Classic
Let’s clear up the naming thing first because it confuses people. In the UK, it’s Notes on a Scandal. In the US, it was originally released as Zoe Heller What Was She Thinking. Same book. Same biting, acidic prose. Same feeling of wanting to take a shower after finishing a chapter.
Why the title change? Marketing, mostly. "What Was She Thinking?" sounds like a tabloid headline, which fits the plot perfectly. It mirrors the way the public reacts to the central scandal: Sheba Hart, a 42-year-old pottery teacher, begins a sexual relationship with Steven Connolly, her 15-year-old student.
But here is the thing. The title doesn't just apply to Sheba. By the end of the book, you aren't just asking what Sheba was thinking when she stepped into that art room. You are asking what Barbara was thinking when she decided to "help" her.
Why Barbara Covett is the Real Villain
Most people go into this expecting a story about a predatory teacher. That’s what the 2006 movie starring Cate Blanchett and Judi Dench focused on. But the book? The book is Barbara's show.
Barbara is sixtyish, single, and lives with a cat named Portia. She is the kind of woman people describe as "formidable" or "a bit of a battle-axe." She sees through everyone. She hates the "progressive" younger teachers at St. George’s. She loathes their sloppy dress sense and their pathetic attempts to be "friends" with the students.
Then comes Sheba.
Sheba is everything Barbara isn't: ethereal, upper-class, messy, and loved. Barbara’s "friendship" with Sheba isn't a friendship. It is a siege.
The Art of the Narrative Trap
Heller does something brilliant with the structure. The entire book is written as Barbara’s private journal or "account" of the scandal. She claims she is writing it to defend Sheba. She says she wants to tell the "truth" that the tabloids missed.
She is lying. Or, more accurately, she is performing. Barbara uses the scandal as a way to tether Sheba to her. When Sheba's life falls apart—when her husband Richard finds out, when the police get involved, when the press camps outside her door—Barbara is there. She is the "loyal friend" who provides a spare room.
But look at the prose. Barbara describes Sheba’s body, her clothes, and her "wispy" personality with a mixture of lust and absolute contempt. She records Sheba’s most private, humiliating confessions not out of empathy, but to own them.
What Sheba Hart Actually Represents
It is easy to look at Sheba and see a monster. She is, legally and morally, a predator in the context of the school system. However, Heller doesn't write her as a calculated villain. She writes her as someone who is deeply, almost pathologically, bored.
Sheba has the "perfect" life on paper. An older, intellectual husband. A beautiful home. Two children (including a son with Down Syndrome, whom the narrative uses to highlight Sheba's desperate need to feel needed).
Sheba claims she "fell in love." Barbara, in her cynical wisdom, sees it for what it is: a mid-life crisis wrapped in the aesthetic of a romantic tragedy.
The Class Element
You can't talk about Zoe Heller What Was She Thinking without talking about the British class system. It’s baked into every interaction.
- Sheba: The "Bohemian" elite who thinks she can transcend boundaries.
- Steven: The working-class boy who is, in many ways, just a prop in Sheba's drama.
- Barbara: The bitter middle-class striver who uses her intellect as a weapon against those "above" and "below" her.
Barbara hates Sheba’s privilege even as she worships it. She mocks Sheba’s "pottery" as a hobby for the rich. She sneers at Sheba’s husband, Richard, for his self-importance. This class friction is what makes the betrayal at the end feel so inevitable.
The 2006 Film vs. The Book
If you've only seen the movie, you've missed the best parts. Judi Dench is terrifyingly good, but the film makes the "lesbian obsession" much more overt. It turns it into a thriller.
The book is subtler. It’s a psychological study of loneliness. Heller writes about the "drip, drip of long-haul, no-end-in-sight solitude" in a way that is genuinely heartbreaking. You almost—almost—feel sorry for Barbara. Then she says something so cruel that you remember why she’s alone.
The ending of the book is also far more chilling than the movie. In the film, there’s a confrontation on a park bench. In the book, the betrayal is a slow, quiet poisoning of Sheba’s last remaining sanctuary.
Why It Still Matters in 2026
We are still talking about this book because the themes of "victim vs. predator" and "unreliable truth" are more relevant than ever. In an era of social media trials and "cancel culture," Barbara Covett is the ultimate cautionary tale. She is the person who pretends to be your biggest supporter while secretly taking notes for your downfall.
Zoe Heller What Was She Thinking reminds us that the person telling the story usually has an agenda.
Takeaway Insights for Readers
If you are planning to read or re-read this masterpiece, keep these things in mind:
- Watch the Tense: Barbara often shifts between the "present" (as she writes) and the "past" (the events of the affair). Notice how her tone changes when she talks about Sheba's husband.
- Look for the Gaps: Ask yourself what Sheba actually said versus what Barbara claims she said.
- Check the Names: "Covett" (to covet) and "Hart" (a deer/prey). Heller isn't being subtle there, but it works.
If you want to understand the mechanics of a toxic friendship, there is no better manual. Just don't expect a happy ending. This is a story where everyone loses, and the person holding the pen is the most dangerous one in the room.
To get the most out of Heller's work, compare the narrative voice here to her other novel, The Believers. You'll see she has a specific gift for writing characters who are brilliant, articulate, and completely full of it.
