Review by Booklist Review
Collins' debut features two spooky timelines set in The Reeve, an impressively large Georgian house situated on southwest England's Dorset shores. The Reeve only needs some minor repairs to be the perfect place for families. In 2017, Irish artist Orla and her husband, Nick, buy the house to escape city life and benefit their young children, baby Bridie and toddler Sam, who hasn't spoken in months. Nick works in Bristol and returns home for weekends. Forty years earlier, in 1976, Nanny Lydia arrives with newly widowed Sara and her four children, ten-year-old twins Clover and Tabitha ("Tabs"), shy eight-year-old Philip, and infant Owen. Sara wants her family to have a year's holiday in the country after her husband's death. Separated by decades, Orla and Lydia are both effectively stranded at home, increasingly isolated. They hear inexplicable knocks and voices, encounter locked doors, fear the children's imaginary friends, and surrender to the irresistible lure of The Reeve. Fans of gothic fiction will appreciate this tale reminiscent of Ruth Ware's Turn of the Key.
From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review
Collins draws on the folk horror trend for her twisty gothic debut about a haunted house in England. The story develops from two parallel plot threads, both centered on the Reeve, a sprawling 19th-century mansion on the Dorset coast, feared by locals due to a history of children drowning in a pond on the property. In 1976, Londoner and recent widow Sara Robinson moves to the Reeve with her four kids and their nanny, Lydia. Four decades later, artist Orla McGrath and her husband Nick move from Bristol to the Reeve with their two young children, hoping the change of scenery will help break their young son Sam out of his voluntary mutism. Members of both households experience the Reeve as a prototypical creepy old house--they hear disembodied voices and footsteps and glimpse spectral figures. In both timelines, the story builds to a traditional Midsummer celebration, which a local woman tells Lydia is meant to placate mean fairies, ones who "curdle the milk, steal the children." It's here that Collins suggests who's haunting the house and why. Along the way, she skillfully laces her narrative with clues that suggest the events unfolding are not as straightforward--or linear--as they seem. This one is sure to connect with fans of the weird and macabre. Agent: Lucy Carson, Friedrich Agency. (July)
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Review by Kirkus Book Review
Lives and minds unravel in this dual-timeline gothic horror debut. English painter Orla McGrath and her husband, Nick, are residing in Bristol with their 4-year-old son, Sam, and infant daughter, Bridie, when Sam stops speaking. Doctors diagnose selective mutism and counsel patience, but domineering Nick declares that a scenery change will help and buys The Reeve, a sprawling, centuries-old home on a remote Dorset cliffside. The patchy cell and internet service worry Orla, as she'll be alone and carless during the week while programmer Nick stays in the city for work, but Nick insists the isolation will be good for her and her art. That initially proves true, though the atmosphere quickly turns disquieting. Phantom footsteps sound, objects appear and disappear, doors open by themselves, and Sam draws shadowy figures he indicates are friends. Nick refuses to move, however, despite spending more and more time away. Forty years earlier, London nanny Lydia Price relocates to The Reeve when her newly widowed boss, Sara, decides she and her four kids need a fresh start. Though inexplicable phenomena vex Lydia from the outset, including disembodied voices, invisible children's playmates, and dying birds, Sara scornfully dismisses her concerns. Lydia would love to leave but can't bring herself to abandon her young charges to the house or their increasingly distant mother. Collins skillfully intercuts the two storylines, making clever use of structure to maximize tension, resonance, and fright, while the familiar setup fools readers into thinking they know what path the plot will follow. A moody, evocative, close-third narrative underscores the keenly rendered characters' mounting distress and claustrophobia. A harrowing slow burn with feminist undertones. Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
