Lisa Jewell is one of those writers whose books I will always snap up instantly, and with Invisible Girl she’s at the top of her game. It’s a hugely engaging and satisfying read.
The invisible girl of the title is seventeen-year-old Saffyre - a name which should have seemed awful, with its “creative” spelling, but I actually kind of liked it, maybe because I liked the character so much. She was magnificent.
Part of the story is told from Saffyre’s perspective. Then there’s Cate, who’s married to child psychologist Roan and mother of two teenagers, Georgia and Josh.
Thirty-three year old Owen lives with his aunt across the road from Cate and Roan, and has never had a sexual relationship. He’s seen as a bit of a weirdo and a loner. When complaints are made about him at work, Owen’s sense of anger and injustice begins to lead him down a dangerous path. When Saffyre disappears, he’s an obvious suspect.
Meanwhile, a string of sex attacks in the area strike fear into Cate’s heart in more ways than one.
I absolutely loved this book - largely, I think, because of Saffyre herself. All the characterisation is brilliant, though. It’s possible to like and sympathise with Owen even though some of his behaviour is, at best, deeply misguided - Lisa Jewell does an excellent job of sensitively depicting how he’s reached that place.
The toxic masculinity of certain characters is balanced by characters like Saffyre’s uncle, who show a very different image of what it means to be a man.
As I said at the top of the review, I found this a very enjoyable and satisfying read - highly recommended.
Looking at it backwards it was obvious all along. But back then, when she knew nothing about anything, she had not seen it coming. She had walked straight into it with her eyes open.
Fifteen year old Ellie Mack: a golden girl with a glowing future, excelling at school, madly in love with her first boyfriend, cherished youngest child of loving parents. Ellie has everything to live for. But Ellie is gone. She simply disappeared one day in 2005, never to be seen again. She was last seen checking her reflection in a car window, on her way to the library. And then she was gone. No clues, no sightings, nothing. The police eventually conclude she has run away, but mum Laurel never believed it. Ellie had no reason to leave home, and every reason to stay.
Ten years later, Laurel hasn't slept properly since 2005. She's lived alone for seven years, waiting for news that never came. Finally, some news does arrive, but far more questions than answers remain.... especially when a new man, Floyd, comes into Laurel's life. Laurel's determination to uncover the truth at all costs, interspersed with snippets from the past and from the points of view of other characters, makes for a seriously enthralling read.
I really don't want to say anything more about the plot; I began this book knowing very little about it, and it was a real voyage of discovery. Knowing more than a very little would spoil it, I think. Missing-child thrillers are ten a penny at the moment, of course, and I approach them with a degree of trepidation (it's a subject which can and sometimes does go badly wrong) but this is something special.
Then She Was Gone is an incredibly compelling, addictive read. The story drew me in right from the start and didn't let go till I emerged out the other end, feeling broken, emotionally wrung out, my head full of the characters and story. (Then I had to go to work, and attempt to function normally!)
There are some great characters here - including one utterly monstrous human being - and all are convincingly drawn. I was especially able to relate to the character of Laurel, who is far from perfect but profoundly driven to learn the truth about what happened to her daughter - as I think any mother would be.
Make no mistake: parts of this book are unremittingly dark - heartbreakingly so. Certain scenes and themes were very upsetting, and packed a massive emotional punch. Honestly, much as I enjoyed the book, I don't know if I could bear to read it again for this reason. I finished it this morning and I still felt tearful now.
(Lisa's acknowledgements at the end describe her fear, having written the book, that it was simply too bizarre, and her editor's radical and brilliant suggestion to balance out the bizarreness. I'd love to know what that suggestion was!)
We expect nothing less than an excellent read from Lisa Jewell, but she's surpassed herself this time. I think this story will stay with me for a long while.
