The Ones Who Never Left, by Gabrielle Mullarkey

A deliciously chilling story

A frustrated and stalled artist, Lucy has thrown away all her work so far because none of it was worth keeping. Now, about to turn 30, she decides to try being impulsive like Hugh. After only knowing him for seven months, she’s married Hugh and two days later is setting to join him in rural Yorkshire where he’s signed them up as property guardians for an old manor house that’s rumored to be haunted.

In Rook House they find a study that Hugh, a struggling writer of supernatural fiction, appropriates while Lucy turns the attic into a studio. They mostly spend the rest of their time in the kitchen because the dining room is empty and the living room features an unnerving portrait of the original owner of the house, a painting that seems to have a mind of its own.

These two babes in the wood know nothing about living the country. Lucy’s just bought her first car, a bit of a wreck, while Hugh doesn’t even know how to drive. They rely on the occasional housekeeper, Mrs. Bird, to teach them how to use the Rayburn so they’ll have heat and hot water. They hear peculiar noises and debate whether it’s safe to walk in the woods.

As they learn more about the history of the house, the family who owned it, and the ghosts who supposedly haunt it, the two young people encounter strange happenings. The bedroom they use, the only one furnished, is papered with a design of birds stealing strawberries. Not too strange so far.

Next, they explored the remaining six bedrooms, all uncurtained and empty of furniture . . . The smallest bedroom had an open fireplace and bird-free wallpaper—also William Morris—featuring old-gold and pale-green leaves in snake-like coils. “Acanthus leaves,” Lucy identified.

Glancing at the faded paper, she had the strange sensation, just for a second, that the curling leaves were flowing and reforming into Rorschach ink blots, as if the pattern—maybe even the wall itself—was writhing with dark, silent life.

But Lucy is subject to migraines, so perhaps that is what’s happening to her. As the incidents come faster and go from alarming to frightening, it’s unclear what’s causing them: maybe ghosts, a Bertha in the attic, or simply their imaginations? To make things worse, Hugh’s impulsiveness begins to look more like the self-centered recklessness of a spoiled child, and Lucy finds it harder and harder to connect with him.

(Credit: Justin Morrison)

Although the plot accelerates nicely, Lucy and Hugh’s relationship becomes less interesting as it devolves into squabbling and secrets. They are both only children and perhaps lack the emotional tools for a relationship. Orphaned Lucy loathes her stepmother, while Hugh courts disapproval from his cold, wealthy parents even as he accepts their money.

Still, I cannot resist a story about a haunted manor on the edge of a Yorkshire moor, reminding me as it does of my introduction to gothic fiction when I was fifteen. I’ll never forget that November dusk when I curled up on a windowseat in the living room and opened Jane Eyre for the first time.

(Credit: Justin Morrison)

The plot in Mullarkey’s novel kept me turning the pages. There are plenty of shivers and surprises. What makes the scary parts so effective, besides being well-placed in the story, is how they call on fears that many of us experience. These days in particular, we know in our hearts and bones what it’s like to be misunderstood, to be in danger, to feel powerless.

I love the title which came, Mullarkey says in her note, from her wondering if the former inhabitants of the houses we occupy ever truly leave. Now there’s a thought. Many of us experience strong vibrations in the houses we enter. I thought perhaps the strong emotions within may have seeped into wood and stone and become subtle exhalations.

But after this book, I’m considering the places I’ve lived and wondering what part of me might linger there. I think, too, of those who lived in them before me, the ones I know of anyway. This is where the gothic space begins to open: that uncanny disorientation that suggests maybe we don’t know so much after all.

What novel have you read recently that unsettled you?

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a copy of this book free from the publisher. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own.