She expects to feel that heaviness again as soon as she opens the door, but this time, as she walks from room to room, she feels lighter than she’s ever felt here before. She can’t understand it, because on the surface, the place seems so bleak. It’s been empty for months, and although Peggy’s been popping down to air the rooms, there’s still the unmistakable smell of damp. In the living room, the light patches where the pictures and mirrors used to be only emphasise the extent of the nicotine stains on the already dark wallpaper. In contrast, the dining room still looks newly decorated, albeit in a rather bedroom-y colour.
Down in the basement, the damp smell is so bad she can taste it, so she’s not surprised to see black mould on the wall of the utility room and the revolting scuttle of the strangely prehistoric-looking silverfish as she unlocks the back door. It was raining this morning, and a deep puddle has formed in the area at the bottom of the steps leading up into the garden. She’d forgotten how it floods down here in heavy rain, and how her mum or dad would have to come down and fix the stormboard across to stop it coming in under the back door. She goes up the steps and takes one last walk around the garden. Peggy looked after it at first, but she’s been so busy with the wedding and selling her own place that it’s now quite overgrown, and Eleanor has to push back some of the foliage in order to walk down the path.
When she first found out about Peter, she used to wonder why her mum wanted to spend so much time out here, the very place where her baby died. But now she understands her mum’s need to make things grow, to keep propagating new life and nurturing and tending it to maturity. She does a similar thing herself with her work on the farm, she supposes.
It’s only when she’s back upstairs and taking a last look round before locking the door that she realises what it is that feels so different. The ghosts of the past are no longer trapped in this house; they’ve gone, finally laid to rest.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
The first round of thanks must go to my wonderful editor Clare Hey and my agent Kate Shaw, for their perceptive, honest and insightful feedback on the various drafts of What She Lost. I am profoundly grateful for their continuing support, encouragement and understanding, and their unwavering belief that I would eventually make a silk purse out of the sow’s ear that was the first draft of this novel.
Huge thanks also to the fabulous team at Simon & Schuster for all that goes into preparing a novel for publication, including proofreading, copy editing, and the beautiful cover design.
This book has been the most difficult to write so far, and it would be impossible to thank by name everyone who has supported me, so I’d like to express my gratitude to all those who read early drafts and later drafts, helped me explore plot ideas, soothed my insecurities, poured wine down my throat, and reassured me that I was getting somewhere. My very special thanks to Russell Thomas (who’s done a lot of insecurity-soothing) and to Marian ‘Dill’ Dillon. Hoorah for wine and feedback! ‘When shall we three meet again?’ A special mention also to Ruby Speechley, Iona Gunning, Sue Hughes, and the Hallam Writers.
Authors need a place to write, a space conducive to concentration and creativity, where you can lose yourself in your story without interruption. Thank you to the past and present teams at Couch for keeping me supplied with green tea and coffee while I bash away at my laptop.
When I need to get away from domestic responsibility completely, I rely on the wonderful Annie McKie’s writers’ retreats, which offer a room-with-a-view, gorgeous food, and oodles of encouragement. Thank you for all that, Annie, and for the wine and friendship.
In researching this novel, I read several accounts of women’s experiences at the Greenham Common Peace Camp in the early Eighties, and I found Orange Gate Journal by Ginette Leach particularly useful. My thanks also to Jeremy Holden-Bell, chairman of the Newbury Society, for information on the geography of Greenham Common and access routes to the peace camp at that time.
Before settling to fiction, I wrote a number of health-related books including one on dementia. I was in the slightly unusual position of turning to one of my own books for research, and I’d like to reiterate my thanks to the Alzheimer’s Society, and all those who contributed their personal stories to When Someone You Love Has Dementia.
Finally, not only for the reading and proofreading, the tea-making, dog-walking, wine-pouring and other activities incumbent upon an author’s spouse, my biggest thanks go as always to my husband Francis – I couldn’t do this without you.
Susan Elliot Wright grew up in Lewisham in south-east London. Before becoming a full-time writer, she did a number of different jobs, including civil servant, cleaner, dishwasher, journalist, and chef. She has an MA in Writing from Sheffield Hallam University, where she is now an associate lecturer, and she lives in Sheffield with her husband. She is the author of The Things We Never Said and the Secrets We Left Behind. To find out more, visit her website: www.susanelliotwright.co.uk or follow her on Twitter @sewelliot.
Praise for The Things We Never Said:
‘Passionate, intriguing and beautifully written, The Things We Never Said deserves to stand on the shelf next to Maggie O’Farrell’s books. A powerful and talented new voice’ Rachel Hore, bestselling author of A Place of Secrets and A Week in Paris
‘If you love Maggie O’Farrell, you will love this’ Veronica Henry, bestselling author of The Long Weekend
‘A brave and moving story about how much can be lost and what happens next. A compelling and impressive debut’ Alison Moore, author of the Booker-shortlisted The Lighthouse
Praise for The Secrets We Left Behind:
‘[A] tense and emotional drama’ Daily Express, Best Summer Reads
Also by Susan Elliot Wright
The Things We Never Said
The Secrets We Left Behind
First published in Great Britain by Simon & Schuster UK Ltd, 2017
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Copyright © Susan Elliot Wright, 2017
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