The trapdoor in the kitchen floor of my childhood home opened to a deep shaft. At the bottom of the shaft, a dark stream gurgled. This was this inspiration for my second novel, The Close.
His hand closed around her elbow like a vice. The tentative manner had disappeared completely now. His expression, like his hand, had hardened. ‘This way.’ It was not a suggestion.
Dark secrets lurk on this seemingly unremarkable street in the northern English town of Broadfield. From her bedroom window, seven-year-old Valerie observes the furtive nocturnal activities of the man next door. What’s in the bloodstained bag? What – or who? – is buried in Mr Oliver’s garden? As Valerie pursues her investigations, she discovers that Mr Oliver’s not the only one with something to hide.
‘…exudes a sense of claustrophobia which is effectively crafted through setting, characters and events…’ Alison Campbell Rate.
‘…a novel of complexity and substance…’ Clare Mendes.